#remembered its existence today so now im

[jelly-time]

dapper!

[deathisamotherofbeauty]

maybe I truly just am not made for academia bc this degree mentions how it's preparing people for research and investigation ✨ and like girl I just want to be a librarian which nowadays means I need this degree so can you chill out I don't want to be a researcher or whatever

[verytendou]

Anyone have the video of that guy in his regalia getting super hype to perform right before going into the softest flute solo possible

[akuta-coughhackwheeze-gawa]

cant stand seeing people take the complexity of atsushis relationship with the headmaster and claim that the author is trying to push that the abusers a good guy. holy oversimplification of an incredibly nuanced topic and portrayal.

atsushi hates the headmaster. he expresses intense anger at him for what he did even in recent chapters but hes also repressing his sadness at his death because that anger is blinding him and its preventing him from being able to complete the grieving process. i think just in general he was struggling to cope with his own emotions at the time. he hated the director and thought that meant he couldnt mourn him. it was much easier to believe the director hated him and that was that but im glad asagiri tackled this topic because it adds so much more humanity to all the characters and is a pretty common aspect of abuse irl.

when he first comprehends the news atsushi is clearly happy but it also feels a bit like hes playing it up. as if he doesnt exactly know how he should act. he reinforces all hes done to him “he abused me horrifically so of course i should be ecstatic” but it doesnt feel entirely genuine. his real feelings are much more complex than that. tanizaki asks him if he wants to know why the director was here looking for him and atsushi says no, insisting the director mustve been here to hurt him. but the way he responds when he learns of the directos true intentions suggests that he mightve been considering this from the start. after all, the director told him to never hate himself as a child but he either blocked it out or didnt pay much attention to it so he mightve already suspected this.

at this age, he already knew the answers to these questions. as a child he believed he was being punished solely because the director hated him (which the director verbally reinforced) and he continued to tell himself that, trying to ignore the bits that suggested otherwise. he told tanizaki the director was probably there to kill him even though he was told that his punishment was a lesson to help him learn to endure pain so he could survive in this world, even after the director told him to take all his hate out on him and to never hate himself, even after the “poison” didnt kill him.

despite all the realizations, he didnt want to accept it. or couldnt for his own wellbeing. at this point, he remembered the directors words about not hating himself, realized he was being punished for going rampant as the tiger and was being fed nutrients, remembered the directors actions that suggested he wasnt doing what he did out of pure malice yet he still couldnt help but try to deny that the director could ever care about him. by now, atsushi knows that its true but he doesnt want it to be

he was unable to cope with the duality of the directors actions and his own feelings so dazai helped him. he told atsushi that multiple things can be true. the headmaster is despicable, he thought he was doing what was best for atsushi, the directors actions are a huge part of what made atsushi who he is today, atsushi doesnt have to forgive him, the director is unforgivable. he told him that he could still hate the headmaster and that he could cry for him as well. he was validating both atsushis pain/anger AND his grief and it was then that atsushi finally allowed himself to mourn.

its also worth mentioning he said “thats what i think” in regard to the orphanage directors actions keeping atsushi alive and teaching him how to live. at the end of the day, it must be said that this is dazais opinion and dazai is someone who has used similar methods. he gave akutagawa a reason to live regardless of how much trauma and pain it led to. he hurt akutagawa for the sake of keeping him alive. the director wanted atsushi to hate him so he wouldnt hate himself, wanted him to feel as if his entire existence is a burden and hes unworthy to live if he doesnt help others so hed save people just as dazai was degrading so that he could give akutagawa something to chase after, a reason to live, and just as he wanted akutagawa to depend his self worth on dazais approval and fear punishment so that he would listen to dazai and wouldnt become a slave to his own ability and destroy himself.

he did it with good intentions in mind but as he said, it isnt justified. although he can most likely somewhat understand the directors line of thinking because of that. so far it doesnt seem like he regrets what hes done because he believes hes getting the results he wanted (atsushi and akutagawa teaming up). he hasnt been shown to account for the pain he inflicted which i assume would be the case with the director as well. they understand their methods are cruel and horrible but they prioritize doing what they believe they need to do to raise aku/atsu right but i digress

and this wasnt the end of things. atsushi is still angry at the director. he didnt let this prevent him from hating him and he didnt start glorifying his abuser. he was finally able to healthily deal with some of his trauma which he still is dealing with to this day and he isnt portrayed as in the wrong for hating him

it is undeniable that he somewhat feels a bond with the headmaster. he looks to him for guidance and even had to cover that up by imagining dazai in his place. the journey is far from over which is another thing i love. him and akutagawa basically fall on opposite ends of the spectrum. both of them look towards their mentors for guidance but atsushis hate overshadows that while akutagawas admiration overshadows his contempt

in the main universe he has supportive people in his life and dazai is able to help him mourn but he doesnt have that support group in beast so when he learns of the headmasters intentions, he latches onto the idea of someone caring about him and glorifies him. it was a trauma response and including it doesnt mean asagiri is saying that the director was a good man. it is far from uncommon for abuse victims to form a trauma bond with their abusers and akutagawa is even shown doing some form of this in the main series. in beast, rather than helping atsushi mourn, dazai uses this situation to control atsushi and he doesnt get the chance to overcome this. at the end of the series, mori is the one offering to help him mourn and it is implied that he is able to heal eventually by letting go of the headmasters gift and finding something else to validate his existence with.

mori expresses he disagrees with dazai and his method of using atsushis trauma to control him as well as the directors cruel methods, insisting he lets him help him overcome his trauma from the headmaster and he is presented as a positive force in atsushis life who is there to help him heal. if asagiri was trying to insist that the director was a good guy, atsushis singular positive influence wouldnt be disapproving of his methods and preventing atsushi from leaving until he can discard of his gift. and he wouldnt continue allowing main universe atsushi to hate him right after dazai explained why he did what he did let alone in the recent chapters

this was longer than i expected it to be so i hope my thought process is coherent and i didnt screw anything up. im always too chicken to post the long stuff but maybe thisll make it out

[wonyology]

Blueprints Of Us (m!reader x IVE's WONYOUNG) - part I

part II - part III (not yet)

Summary: A heartbroken architect. An ambitious girl. They didn't know each other existed - until the day they met in Hong Kong. What began as a pleasant encounter slowly turns into something neither of them planned: a connection, and perhaps... a new beginning.

tags(?): fluff, post heartbreak stuff, wony being beautiful, i don't even know man

WONYOUNG x yourself/Original Male Character

Word count: ~10k - big shoutout to @stewpidcheescatarinabluu for the hong kong suggestion, i tried something new this time so... hopefully u guys like it. also, i know nothing about architect. as always, enjoying reading!

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Incheon International Airport

It was 11:00PM, you sat quietly at Gate 21, the ice americano in your hand somehow tasted really bland now. Too bland. The terminal was quiet, not the peaceful quiet kind - just empty. A few other passengers sat scattered across the rows of seats, some half asleep, others just looked dead inside, just like you. You weren’t in a rush since your flight to Hong Kong wouldn’t board for another 40 minutes. Moments like these just sucked somehow. 

You scrolled through your phone again. Nothing to check, Just the usual emails from work, maybe too many unread group chats that you didn’t even bother to open in days, and that message - still sitting on top of your Kakao like it was waiting for you to accept the truth. 

[내지민이🩵]

(My Jiminie🩵)

im sorry oppa

let’s not keep dragging this out

you know we’ve been over for a while

You stared at it for a moment. No typing dots. No follow-up.

It was from your now ex-girlfriend, Jimin - Yu Jimin, your hoobae from SNU. You met on campus, she was in Interior Design and you were finishing up your architecture degree. She was popular - the looks, the bright energy, the bubbly personality, she had it all. People noticed her. A lot of guys chased after her. But somehow, she’d only looked at you. She was the one who confessed first - bold, smiling, a little nervous. You still remembered the way she’d asked if you always looked that serious, even when the sky looked nice. Somehow you’d ended up together. For almost 2 years. At one point, Jimin was even talking about moving in together. But… it hadn’t been good for a while. She said she’d been tired and you had no better excuse than ‘I’ve been busy’. You weren’t cheating. You weren’t lying. You loved her too much for that.

But last night - the look in Jimin’s eyes told you she was serious. You got down your knees in the middle of the street, apologizing and begging her for one last chance with tears in your eyes. You never thought you’d ever be that desperate, pleading guy in a drama. You never really begged for anything before. But last night, you begged for her. Jimin cried too, but she still walked away. No yelling, no accusations. She said it hurt too much to keep this relationship alive. She didn’t hate you but she couldn’t survive loving you like this anymore.

You cried too. Harder than you ever had. So much that you weren’t even sure if you could make it to Hong Kong today. But somehow you managed. 

Your studio, DPR, was young but quickly gained a reputation for its thoughtful and unique design. It was catching attention, even getting shortlisted for awards in the recent months. You’d joined it after graduating from SNU - one of their only rare junior hires as the team started expanding. The founder - your boss, Yu Barom, was only in his late 30s - maybe a bit young for his field but respected by many for his work. There was something easy about talking with him - not quite a mentor, more of a close friend. He noticed the shift in you for the past few months but he never pushed. When a partner in Hong Kong invited your studio to consult on a small renovation project, he offered it to you.

“Take the job, Haejoon-ah.” he said. “Explore Hong Kong a bit, maybe get lost for a few days. Might help.”

You knew it wasn’t about the project. Still, you were thankful for the chance - not just for work but also for his understanding behind it. You were still lost in that thought when the boarding announcement echoed through the terminal. Well… enough sadness. It was time to get your shit together and board the plane.

Somewhere in the sky, you found yourself staring out the window, watching Korea disappear into clouds. Becoming an architect was never really something you planned - maybe not at first. But you were good with your hands, better with space than words and building things just felt like the one thing you could make sense of the world around you. You weren’t from money, nothing was ever handed to you easily. But you worked your way up, maybe got lucky along the way - through school, through military service, through sleepless nights at SNU until you ended up here. Thirty years old. Employed straight after university, luckily, in this economy. Respected. And still somehow feeling like something or maybe someone was missing in your life.

The next few days passed in a blur - full of site visits, meetings and late night drafts. The renovation project wasn’t anything massive - just a quiet redesign of a small hotel tucked along Sheung Wan. The work culture in Hong Kong was a bit fast paced but nothing you couldn’t keep up with. You spent your days listening, observing and sketching like you always did. Hong Kong was packed but beautiful, chaotic and sharp-edged in a way Seoul wasn’t.

A bit like that game, Sleeping Dogs. Minus the kungfu part. Underrated game.

Until that day, your early meeting had been canceled and you decided to wander around with no purpose, letting the city carry you away. At some point, you ended up at Tsim Sha Tsui harbor, the scenery looked exactly like those in the 90s Hong Kong movies. And there, tucked at the end of the Star Ferry Pier was a clean, minimalist cafe. You’d seen a bunch of those cafes before. Clean concrete, soft wood counters, art gallery vibes. A cup of coffee won’t hurt. But damn, Hong Kong was fucking expensive. You wandered near the window to calm yourself down while watching the world move. The bitterness hit a bit but you didn’t mind. Not there for the coffee anyway. 

Then she walked in. She took your breath the moment she got into your vision. She was wearing a matching cream and navy stripes crochet set. The cropped cardigan clung lightly to her shoulders, unbuttoned to show the black top underneath. Her high waisted shorts helped compliment her long legs, making her already tall frame even more attractive. Her long hair was braided over one shoulder, giving her look a retro but not too old fashioned vibe. A thin choker with a small pendant was wrapped around her neck, and those earrings just made her look so elegant and rich.  But the main point of her look was the glasses. She walked in while adjusting them - casual but confident, like she knew people were watching her. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She ordered in English, voice soft but confident? Sounded a bit American? Tourist?

You didn’t really care at first, not until she ran into trouble while paying. Her card wasn’t going through. She shifted awkwardly and laughed it off with the barista then muttered something out of frustration. In Korean, loud enough for you to hear.

“아 뭐야, 또 왜 이래…?”

(What the hell, again…?)

Korean!

Before you could think of anything else, you stood up and walked to the counter, phone already in hand.

“It’s ok. I’ll pay for her.” you said in English - more confident than you thought.

 She turned, blinking in surprise.

“Oh no! Please, you don’t have to…” in English again.

You shook head slightly and switched back to Korean.

“I’m Korean, too. It’s fine.” 

She hesitated for a second then offered a small bow with a tint of pink on her cheeks.

“Ah… thank you so much. Really.” voice now relieved. “I didn’t expect to run into a Korean here.”

“Me neither.” you offered a small smile.

She took her drink from the counter then just stood there clutching her cup of coffee with both hands for a moment. She wasn’t moving away. Her eyes flickered around the cafe then landed back on you.

Shit… she’s so beautiful.

You glanced at an empty table near the window.

“Do you… want to sit with me?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

“Ah-umm…” she was caught off guard for a second, eyes dropping to her drink then back to you. Then she let out a soft laugh.

“I mean… yeah. Sure.”

The both of you moved to sit down, she carefully placed her cup of coffee before adjusting her cardigan slightly. You noticed how she kept tucking those few strands of her behind her ear, like she was nervous of something. Neither of you said anything for a moment. 

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.” she finally spoke first, the corners of her lips curling slightly.

“No, you’re doing fine.” you smiled.

She nodded, taking a sip of coffee before smiling again.

“...Can I ask for your name?” her voice was a bit more confident now. “Feels weird just saying ‘thank you’ to a stranger.”

You chuckled under your breath. 

“Yeah, it’s true. I’m Haejoon. Han Haejoon. And you?”

“I’m Jang Wonyoung.”

“Nice name. It suits you a lot.” you meant it.

There was a beat. Then she tilted her head, slightly blushing.

“Can I ask how old are you, Haejoon-ssi? Just… you know. So we know how to talk.”

You smiled.

“I’m thirty, in Korean age. International… twenty nine.”

“I’m twenty two, so… Oppa?” she replied immediately, her eyes were sparkling - like she was testing you, waiting for a reaction.

Fuck.

You coughed. Only once. Just enough to embarrass yourself. You then looked down at your coffee like it suddenly needed your attention.

“That’s fine. I mean, if you’re comfortable with that…”

You scratched the back of your neck.

“Or not. I don’t… mmm, whatever works best for you.”

She laughed - really laughed this time, covering her mouth with two hands. She was clearly enjoying how flustered you got.

“You’re really shy for someone who just rescued me with a cup of coffee, oppa.” she teased.

You raised one eyebrow, trying to recover.

“Yeah, well. Confidence is situational sometimes.”

Wonyoung took another sip of her drink, eyes quietly scanning you from head to toe then landing back on your eyes.

“You don’t look like a tourist, oppa.” she said, tilting her head. “Are you living here?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m here for work. A short project.”

She nodded slowly, fingers playing with her cup. 

“I thought so. You look like you just stepped out of a meeting or something.”

You glanced at yourself - slightly dark tailored suit, the shirt still stiff from rushing in the morning.

“Too obvious?” you asked, smirking.

“A little.” she grinned. “But in a good way. Sharp. Clean hairstyle. Professional. Korean vibe, definitely.”

“Thanks… I think.”

She covered her laugh with her hands again. Feminine. Effortless. Drawing you right in.

“Where do you live in Korea, oppa?” her tone still playful but curious.

“Uhm, Seoul.” you replied. “Mapo-gu side. Not too far from Yeonnam-dong.”

“No way. I live over there too. Right on the edge of Yeonnam, close to Mangwon market.” she gasped a bit.

“Really?” you blinked.

“Um, my friends and I are actually planning to open a floral studio somewhere around that area.”

You leaned back, surprised but kind of amused.

“That’s fairly close.”

“Fate?” she teased.

“Are you stalking me or something?” you narrowed your eyes, taking a risky shot.

Wonyoung gasped, clearly playing it for effect.

“Oh no… I’ve been caught. I guess I’ll have to find a new victim.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Nah, you don’t look like the criminal type.”

She sipped her drink with a small smile. “That’s how we criminals get you.”

You leaned forward a little, resting your forearms on the table.

“Floral Studio? Is that your full time job?”

She pouted her lips a bit before answering. 

“Kind of. Maybe not yet. I just finished school a few months ago. Took a break to travel around with my friends before… you know, real life hits.”

“Graduated from?”

“Ewha” she replied. “Fine Arts. I focused on stuff like fabric theory or styling but ended up falling in love with floral work along the way. I guess it also makes sense because I’ve liked it since I was a kid.”

“Floral work… Like not exactly a florist but arrangements and stuff?” you hummed. 

Wonyoung nodded, swirling her coffee around.

“Yup, like styling, visual work… Maybe it sounds a bit corny but I like how flowers can change the vibe of a place. I did a few stuff with bridal studios, concept shops, even a magazine shoot, once. I guess it just clicked along the way.”

You leaned back again, amazed.

“So not a shop that only sells flowers.”

She smiled.

“Definitely not that. I don’t just want to sell flowers. I want to create spaces and atmosphere that bring memories or scent to people. Does that even make sense?”

“Actually, yeah. It does.” you gave her a small nod, impressed.

There was a brief pause before she spoke up again. 

“I don’t know if it’ll work yet,” she said, looking down at her cup then back at you. “But we’re giving it a shot.”

“And ‘we’ is…?”

“My friends. Two of them. We’ve been dreaming about it for a long time now. I’m actually traveling around Hong Kong with them right now.”

“That’s brave. Really.”

Wonyoung smiled at your words, cheeks faintly pink - then she suddenly looked away and pressed her lips into her cup before speaking up again.

“Why did I just overshare like that?” she mumbled. “I don’t usually talk this much with people I just met.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. It was nice to hear.”

She glanced at you from under her lashes, a little flustered. Then, she straightened.

“Anyway. What about you, oppa? What’s your job? Besides saving girls with card problems and drinking coffee at expensive places.”

“I’m an architect.” you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head.

“Ah, called it.” her eyes lit up.

“You guessed?” you blinked.

“Nice tailored suit. Clean look. Sharp eyes. You’re either an architect or a rich guy who works in finance. Or IT.”

You raised a brow. “Are you always this observant?”

“Only when I’m bored.” she smiled again, this time relaxed.

Then she paused, eyes narrowing.

“Wait. If you think I’m that observant… guess my MBTI, oppa.”

You let out a quiet laugh.

“We’re moving on to MBTI already?”

“It’s fun, oppa. Every Korean has to do this. C’mon, one guess.” she said, leaning in.

You studied Wonyoung for a second. Confident posture. Confident speech. The way she caught herself oversharing but owned it anyway. Stylish. So goddamn beautiful, too.

“You gotta be an E…”

Her eyes sparkled a bit.

“EN… No, ES… ESTJ.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“How?

“Confident. Bright energy. I’d say organized but a bit dramatic. The good kind. I’d say stylish too but that doesn’t really count in MBTI.” you just smiled, taking a sip of your coffee like it was obvious.

I got a bit lucky too, Wonyoung-ah.

Wonyoung squinted at you.

“Okay, wait. That’s scary. I’m an actual ESTJ.”

“I’m good, right? Got it on the first try.”

“I’m suspicious now.” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Do you just study MBTIs in your free time?”

“Nope. An architect’s instinct. I worked with many different types of people too.”

She smiled. “Alright, my turn. Let me guess yours.”

You leaned back, enjoying her presence.

Wonyoung’s lips slightly pursed in thought.

“You’re definitely not an E. Too calm. Quiet but not too awkward. You seem like you hate small talk but… listen well. Hmm..”

Here’s your chance. 

You saw your chance and went right for it. 

“Maybe I do hate small talk.” you said, your voice steady. 

“Just… not with you, apparently.” 

Smooth. 

Wonyoung’s eyes widened just a bit - not expecting that. She blinked then let out a lovely laugh, flustered but pulling her hands up to cover her face.

“...Wow, okay.”

“That was smooth, oppa. You don’t really seem like the flirty type.”

You shrugged, a faint smirk playing at the corner of your mouth.

“No, I’m not. Also, confidence is situational, remember?”

Wonyoung shook her head, laughing into her hands for a second before finally lowering them again. Her cheeks were a soft shade of pink, eyes still amused.

“I swear, if this is how you talk to every girl you meet…”

You raised both your hands in defense.

“I swear on my architect degree, from SNU - you’re the first.”

Wonyoung blinked.

“Wait. Seoul National University?”

You nodded.

“No way.” she stared at you for a second, genuinely taken aback.

“Why? Is that surprising?” you smiled, a little unsure.

“Yeah, that’s like the SNU. Our country’s top school so… you must be something yourself.”

You chuckled, shy now.

“Well… yeah. It wasn’t easy.”

She shook her head slowly, lips parting a little.

“That’s seriously impressive, oppa. I’m kind of… wow. No wonder you’re all quiet and mysterious.”

You laughed under your breath.

“Mysterious? That’s a first.”

“You’ve got that hidden backstory energy, oppa. Do you like, build buildings and stuff?” she asked, sipping her drink.

You smiled at her wording.

“Not exactly. I don’t physically go out with a hammer, if that’s what you’re picturing. I design them. Sometimes interior stuff too.”

Wonyoung laughed, covering her smile again with her hand - a habit you were finding endearing. But it was her eyes that got you. The way they shut lightly when she smiled or laughed, crinkling just a bit at the corner - genuine. Soft. Like the kind of laugh that showed she wasn’t pretending with you. You didn’t mean to stare, but you did. Just a bit longer than you should have.

“Do I have something on my face, oppa?”

“Nothing… Uh, your eyes look pretty when you laugh.”

She paused, her ears turning pink.

“...Well, that’s nice of you to say that.”

You were now aware of how warm your face felt too.

“I mean, it’s true.”

You leaned back slightly, gaze drifting toward the window before returning to Wonyoung. An awkward pause before you spoke.

“Anyway… yeah. I’m taking the architectural license exam this August. And then two other stages… at the end of the year. Then if things go well, I will finally be a licensed architect.”

“Hmm… that’s a big deal, isn’t it?” Wonyoung blinked, clearly impressed.

“It’s… a long time coming.”

“That’s amazing,” her voice sounded so genuine. “Like, really impressive. You must’ve worked so hard for this.”

You shrugged. Wonyoung’s words hit deeper than you expected. She then leaned forward, resting her chin in one hand with her eyes on you.

“I don’t know. There’s something really attractive about people who build things. Like it’s not just work… Care, thought, vision…”

You let her words settle in the space, trying to figure out what this beautiful girl is trying to do. Then she tilted her head slightly with her chin still resting in her palm.

“Wait… can I ask you something a bit random?”

“Sure.” you replied, curious.

“Did you do your military service already? Or are you one of those guys who contribute something big to the country and get exempt status?”

You laughed, it did catch you off guard a little.

“I’m not that lucky. I did mine right after high school.”

“Wow, so you got it out of the way early.” her eyes widened a bit. 

“So if someone dates you now, oppa… They don’t have to worry about you disappearing for two years?”

“That’s one way to… put it.” you said with a low laugh. “Guess I’m low risk that way.”

She nodded, like she was seriously considering it.

“Good to know.”

A short pause came again. Wonyoung glanced at you, down at her coffee, swirling around for a bit. Then she spoke with her eyes still on the cup - quieter this time.

“Umm… can I have your number, oppa?”

She peeked up at you, her tone casual but her cheeks a little pink. 

“Just in case I need to repay you for the coffee. Or, you know… if you feel like talking again.”

You smiled - couldn’t help it.

“Sure,” you said while pulling out your phone. “I’d love to meet you again.”

She took your phone gently, fingers moving quickly as she typed something in.

“Oh - do you want my Instagram too, oppa?” she asked, glancing up with a slight tilt of her head. “Just in case Kakao feels too formal.”

“Sure. Just head into the app and follow your account.” you chuckled.

She did exactly that, tapping around before handing it back to you. You looked at the contact name and had to bite a laugh back.

워녕이녕이🐰

(Wonyoungie🐰)

“A bunny?” you asked.

She looked smug, proud of herself. 

“People say I look like one.”

“Hmm, accurate.”

You barely had time to glance up when two other girls walked in - both stylish, maybe around Wonyoung’s age, laughing about something between them. One girl spotted her first.

“Wonyoung-ah!”

Wonyoung turned, eyes lighting up.

“Oh, unnie. Here!”

But then, the other girl’s gaze shifted to you - and paused. Recognition ran straight to your brain instantly.

“Haejoon-oppa?”

“Yena?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The four of you ended up at the same table, drinks in hands. Yena sat between you and Wonyoung, occasionally throwing glances your way, while Hyewon, her other friend, chimed in now and then with curiosity. 

Yena and you had always had a nice relationship - playful jabs, easy conversation and banter, which was easy when you did military service with her older brother years ago. She’d seen you through highs and lows. Wonyoung seemed both surprised and amused - not uncomfortable. If anything, she looked a little more relaxed now, sipping her coffee as conversations bounced around. Then, in a moment when the other two were distracted, Yena leaned in closer to you while lowering her voice.

“Oppa… are you cheating on Jimin in Hong Kong?”

You froze a bit, the question hitting harder than it should’ve. You absolutely forgot about Jimin when Wonyoung got here. Which was incredible - considering Jimin was on your mind 24/7 ever since you landed in Hong Kong.

“No.” you swallowed once. “We broke up like almost two weeks ago.”

Yena’s brow lifted. “Really?”

You nodded slowly.

“Just before I left for Hong Kong. She didn’t tell anyone yet, I guess.”

She leaned back slightly, eyes scanning your face, maybe she was trying to figure out if you were serious or you were considering cheating on Jimin with the girl sitting next to her. You met Yena’s gaze. You weren’t in the mood to defend yourself - especially when things already ended the way it did.

“Damn. I’m sorry.” her voice genuine, a mix of apology and shock.

“I mean… it hadn’t been good for a while.”

Yena didn’t press further. She just nodded the turned back toward the others, tone shifting back to light as if nothing just happened. Then, you felt Wonyoung glancing at you - her gaze was curious. She hadn’t heard the exchange. But something told you she noticed the shift in your face. And you weren’t sure if that made you uneasy or a little more drawn to her. 

How did I forget about Jimin so easily when you got here?

The conversation drifted back into easier topics - the weather, their trip, stuff in Hong Kong. You stayed mostly quiet, letting the girls talk, sipping your coffee while catching Wonyoung’s gaze looking at you now and then. Then, Yena suggested, casually.

“Oh, oppa. We’re going to eat somewhere at those skyline places tonight. Wanna come?”

Wonyoung looked at you. Her lips pressed like she was trying not to smile but the tiniest spark lit up in her eyes. She didn’t say anything right away, but the others knew.

You looked at Hyewon.

“Are you sure?”

She just smiled and shrugged, totally chill. 

“It’s fine, oppa. More people, more food.”

Yena raised an eyebrow at you, half a smirk on her face - clearly excited.

“Soooo?”

Your gaze turned to Wonyoung, who now was clearly staring right at you.

“Umm… yeah, I’m in.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You sat on your bed in the nice hotel room that Barom booked for you, studio money - crazy money by the way. You were still in your suit, tie slightly loosened now. A lot went through your mind after you left the cafe. For some reason, you didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts for too long. Like usual, you tapped into your contacts and hit call on your favorite person whenever you were in a situation like this

[다빈형] (Dabin-hyung)

He picked up on the third ring.

“Uh. You alive over there? In lovely Hong Kong?” 

“Barely.” you let out a breath, tired. “Also, hyung, are you on the toilet?”

“I’m efficient with my time, man.” he said, completely unbothered. “What’s up? You miss me or are you in trouble right now?”

You rubbed your face. “No, not really.” “Got time to walk around Hong Kong yet? You’ve been there for like one, two weeks?”

“Barely.”

“Site visits killed you already?”

“Nope, not that.” you lied back on the back, staring at the ceiling. 

“I met someone today.”

There was a short pause. Then a groan came from the other line.

“Damn… Don’t tell me you fell in love mid site visit like that. Is she from Hong Kong? Or is it a he? Wait… is it a he?”

“Hyung, shut up. It’s not like that. I just… I don’t know. I feel weird.”

“What kind of weird?”

You hesitated.

“Good weird, I think... Bad timing.”

“You thinking about her again?” Dabin hummed knowingly.

You didn’t even have to mention who her was.

“I forgot about Jimin today,” you said. “Just… like completely forgot. The second this girl walked in.”

“Is she from Hong Kong?”

“Uh… no, from Korea. Seoul. Lives near Yeonnam-dong too. Super weird.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m not kidding.”

“She’s traveling with her two friends. One of them is a close friend of mine, I enlisted with her brother at the same time.”

“That’s really weird.”

“Yeah, but this girl… She’s bubbly, cute, beautiful… said she’s about to open a floral studio with her friends. There’s something about her, flirty but just enough. She… uh.” you trailed off, suddenly self conscious. 

“She called me oppa like five minutes after meeting me. I swear, hyung, my brain just shut off right there.”

A snort came from the other line.

“Jesus Christ. You’re down bad.” he said, his American accent popping off.

“I’m not, hyung.”

“You are, Haejoon-ah. You forgot your ex for hours because the way a pretty stranger said oppa sounded so sweet. That’s not normal, at least for you.”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face.

“I’m just… confused, okay? I didn’t plan for this.”

“No one plans to fall in love in foreign land, Haejoon-ah. It just happens.”

You laughed, maybe at yourself.

“She’s different, hyung. She’s bold but sweet, confident but also shy. She actually listened when I talked about my architecture license exam - like, really listened.”

“Huh… that’s a first. You rant for hours about this and it always scares women off.”

“C’mon, man.”

A beat passed, then Dabin’s voice softened.

“Look, I get it. You’re in a weird place - post breakup, in Hong Kong, maybe tired from all the work. But it feels ok to feel something, even if you don’t know what it is yet. Just overthink it too much.”

You closed your eyes for a second.

“I’m having dinner with them tonight.”

“Already? I thought you’re shy and all.”

“No, not like that. Yena’s there. Our mutual friend. She invited me.”

“And you said yes.”

You hesitated. “Well… yeah.”

“Good.” he sounded satisfied. 

“At worst, free dinner and maybe a decent view. At best, you get a second chance at romance.”

You didn’t reply to him right away.

“Maybe I’m her type.” you added under your breath. 

“The way she talked to me… you know.”

Another snort.

“You’re so screwed.”

You stayed quiet for a second, and he didn’t let that slide.

“Seriously, though - this is why you can’t do casual, Haejoon-ah. You were built to be a hopeless romantic.”

“I’m not-” you groaned.

“You are, dumbass.” he cut in, in English, then the latter part back in Korean. 

“You look and act quiet all the time but deep down you want to be in love. You just won’t admit it.”

You turned around on the bed.

“She smiled so prettily, hyung.”

“Oh god.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. That’s what makes this fun to watch.”

You smiled a little.

“Shut up and get out of the toilet, man.”

“Already did. I multitask really well.”

You shook your head. 

“Anyway, thanks hyung.”

“Anytime, man. Don’t overthink stuff. You always do that. Wear something good and enjoy the dinner. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I overthink a lot.”

“Yeah, go impress your floral girl. I’m out.”

And he hung up. You stayed there for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling again. Maybe you were really screwed. But you didn’t hate the feeling.

The steam still lingered faintly in the bathroom mirror when you stepped out of the shower. Were you nervous? Not too sure. You dried off and ran your hands through your hair and sprayed on a bit of cologne. Then you reached for the shirt - the striped Oxford you’d laid out before the shower. Clean lines, soft fabric. It slipped on easy, giving a casual but sharp vibe - yeah, you’d pulled this off before. You rolled the sleeves and went for the white trousers. Not quite clean fit but slightly wide legged, relaxed. Your shoes were black, polished, a little more formal but complimented the look well. Casual, comfortable, but presentable. Just the right line between effortless and intentional, you thought so.

You were reaching for your watch and glasses when your phone buzzed on the bed. It was Dabin.

[다빈형]

don’t chicken out man

just act like your normal self and you’ll be fine 

You stared at the screen, lips twitching. Typical. You slid on your watch, put on the glasses and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. You didn’t forget to grab the wallet before reaching for the door.

Let’s see where the night goes.

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped into what felt like another world. Hong Kong was really like those 90s movies, or even better. The restaurant wasn’t open air, it didn’t need to be with this kind of view. Glasses stretched from floor to ceiling, wrapping around the entire dining space, revealing the Hong Kong skyline in its night glory. The scenery below shimmered like jewels, skyscrapers glowing in all kinds of colors as the city exhaled into the night. On the far side, Victoria Peak…is it Victoria Peak?... cast a quiet silhouette against the fading sunset. Inside, the lighting was soft and warm - elegant and expansive. It was decorated with polished floors and golden accents. Everything didn’t feel loud - just intentional, to emphasize that quiet luxury vibe. A curved bar hugged one side of the room. Every detail, from the wine bottles gleaming to the jazz music felt like it was designed to make you stay longer and spend more. 

You scanned around the space - there they were. Near the window, seated at probably one of the best tables in the restaurant, Wonyoung along with Hyewon and Yena looked like they really belonged there. And next to Wonyoung, an empty seat was waiting for you. Here we go. You exhaled once, calming yourself before walking toward them.

Yena spotted you first as she lit up and raised one hand, half standing from her seat.

“Oppa! Over here.”

Hyewon turned and gave you a small, friendly wave. 

Wonyoung looked up at you briefly then dropped her gaze with a small smile. A bit shy, maybe. You reached for the table. She was wearing a tweed mini-dress, the kind of clothing that looked straight out of a Milan runway but still fit her like it was custom made. Those golden sequin trimming sat at the collar, cuffs, and hem - giving her look a playful yet youthful, elegant vibe.  It caught the warm restaurant lighting so well whenever she moved. Her hair was down, long  and softly curled over one shoulder. Her bangs emphasized her features so well, giving her an almost doll like vibe. But it wasn’t just about the look. The way she carried herself - composed, like she was completely at ease in this kind of place. 

This girl must come from royalty.

You found yourself smiling at Wonyoung before you even realized it.

“Sorry, I’m late.” you said, adjusting your watch out of habit. “Hong Kong traffic was insane.” 

Yena scoffed dramatically.

“We were about to order without you, oppa.”

“Yah, you were not.” Hyewon added with a laugh, nudging Yena lightly.

Wonyoung didn’t say anything, fingers fiddling with her wine glass before looking up at you again.

“At least you made it.” she smiled.

You scratch the back of your neck out of habit.

“Yeah… wouldn’t want to miss the view,”  you said, eyes flicking briefly to hers before quickly adding.

“I mean, the city - the skyline.”

Wonyoung looked like she was trying not to smile too much. You nodded towards the empty seat toward the empty seat beside her.

“This one mine?”

“Obviously, oppa.” Yena smirked. “Where else?”

You then carefully slid into the seat beside Wonyoung - close enough to catch the subtle perfume she wore, faint but lingering. Deadly. Her arm brushed lightly against yours as she shifted, and neither of you moved away too quickly. 

“Glad you could make it.” she whispered loud enough for the two of you to hear.

You turned your head, this time not able to look her in the eyes.

“Me too. You look stunning by the way.”

That made her pause for just a short beat. Then her smile appeared - a little shy, a little warm.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, oppa.” Wonyoung tilted her head. 

“That shirt looks really good on you.”

It was your turn to be shy, unsure whether to thank or deflect this time, but-

“So how’s Hong Kong treating you, oppa?” Yuna cut in, her eyes glinting as she leaned across the table with her face in her palm. “Working hard? Or just pretending to?”

You exhaled, wasn’t even sure if you were thankful or disappointed with this vibe shift.

“Umm… both, I guess. It’s not a big project but we’re packing in as much as we can.”

“What’s the project again?” Hyewon asked, curious.

“A small hotel in Sheung Wan. Mostly renovation. Nothing massive but enough to keep me up the past few nights.”

Wonyoung gave you a knowing glance.

“Sounds like you don’t get enough sleep.”

The corner of your mouth was tugging upward.

“Yeah, well… comes with the job, I guess. Can’t really complain.”

She hummed softly in response - like she understood more than she let on.

“Still… I hope you get at least one good night here. Would be a waste otherwise.”

You glanced at her, something light but still meaningful passed between the two of you.

“Sooo” Yena cut in, eyes sharp with curiosity. “What’s it like back in Korea? Your job, I mean. You said your studio’s in Seoul, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s on Mapo-gu side. I got snapped up right after I finished the five year program, it was hell - honestly.”

“Architecture major?” Hyewon asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, SNU. Lucky enough to land the job straight out. The team’s pretty tight - a younger studio but we’ve been gaining attention lately. That’s why I can’t sleep these days.”

“Ooh, smart and stable.” Yena said with a fake dramatic tone. “Sounds like someone’s type.”

Wonyoung muttered something under her breath, half laughing.

You ignored the burning feeling on your ears and continued. 

“The pay’s not insane, but good enough for me to afford a nice apartment, help my family and still have enough to save… or splurge once in a while. I’m taking the architect license exam this year so… hopefully better pay after that.”

“Help your family?” Hyewon repeated. “That’s really good of you.”

You nodded, now a little self conscious under the weight of their attention. 

“I mean… they did a lot for me. Wouldn’t be here without them.”

Wonyoung gently traced the rim of her wine glass. The way she looked at you had changed. Warmer. Respectful, maybe. Enough to kill you.

“And what do you splurge on, oppa?” Yena swooped back in with a grin. “Don’t say boring stuff like books or anything like that.”

You chuckled.

“I mean… I bought a nice car off from a friend a year ago. Sometimes… travel, hobbies if I have time. And, you know - those dinners where my friends drag me out and the wine list has names I can’t even pronounce but I pretend anyway.”

That earned a laugh from Hyewon.

Wonyoung tilted her head.

 “Ooh, red or white, oppa?”

You raised your eyebrows. 

“I mean, they taste the same to me. Anything is fine, depends on the company.”

Wonyoung blinked before looking away at the Hong Kong skyline with a breathy laugh, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear like she was trying to compose herself.

“Oh, wow.” Yena muttered. 

“You really are someone’s type.”

You looked down at your glass. You didn’t mean to put it like that. Whatever the case was, it lingered in the air between you and Wonyoung, even as Hyewon and Yena picked the conversation back up.

“Okay, we need food before I get drunk. Who’s hungry now?” Hyewon was already looking at the waiter.

You relaxed into your seat, feeling Wonyoung leaning closer to you. But neither of you pulled away.

By the time the food arrived, the atmosphere had settled into something warmer. Comfortable. It came with good drinks and beautiful Hong Kong city lights, with laughter spilling out between bites. You were swirling your wine glass absentmindedly, half listening to Yena and Hyewon debate over where to go after this. Then the conversation drifted again.

“So how was that spot you and Yena-unnie went to see? The one near the bookstore?” Hyewon turned to Wonyoung as she asked. Wonyoung’s face lit up instantly.

“Oh, it was actually so cute.” she said, nodding. “In Yeonnam-dong, not too big but the lighting’s really great. Especially in the afternoon.”

“And the outside looks beautiful too.” Yena added, grinning. “We were already planning a small coffee counter in front and Instagram photo spots.”

Hyewon looked impressed. 

“You two were out there for like, what, over two hours?”

“Over one hour, unnie.” Wonyoung replied, smiling. “But we saw the vision.”

You looked between them, your architect side was genuinely intrigued now.

“Sounds like a solid location.”

“It is,” Wonyoung said, her voice certain. “We’ve been talking about this studio for so long, it finally feels like it’s happening.”

“We’re just basically waiting on the right person to help us design it,” Yena added, throwing glances your way.

Hyewon caught the way Yena looked at you and smirked. “You’re not even subtle now.”

You raised your eyebrows, not saying anything yet. Wonyoung, however, didn’t look away.

“We had someone before, but the timing didn’t work out. So…” she said, calm. “We’re open to new ideas.”

Then she tilted her head just slightly, her eyes meeting yours.

“Or maybe the right person’s already here.”

A short pause arrived at the table. You exhaled a small laugh, surprised but not at all opposed.

“That sounds a lot like a pitch.”

She smirked, smiling into her wine glass. You glanced down at your plate, suddenly a little more aware of how warm your face felt.

“I mean, I could show you guys some on the projects I’ve worked on. If you’re curious.”

Wonyoung looked up first. 

“Really, oppa?”

“Yeah, I got a few files on my phone. Not all flashy, but solid enough.”

“Solid enough?” Yena said. “You’re underselling yourself, oppa.”

“I’m just saying.” you muttered, “They’re not exactly viral cafe material or anything.”

“Still.” Wonyoung said, her tone softer now. “We’d love to see them.”

Her gaze lingered, warm and steady. She really meant it.

“We’re serious.” she added. “Send them later. Or show us now if you want.”

You hesitated for half a second, then reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, unlocking it with a swipe.

“...Okay. Just don’t expect an aesthetic Pinterest board.”

Yena immediately. “Don’t worry, oppa. We’re not like that.”

You opened an app and tapped into a folder you hadn’t shared with anyone in a while now - site photos, render stuff, construction shots and a few finished interior works. Some cafes, a private rooftop home renovation, even a small art gallery for a chaebol’s daughter tucked in some corner of Gangnam-gu, that project paid really well. All designed just the way you liked it.

The three of them scooted in without hesitation, gathering on your side of the table. Yena leaned over your right shoulder. Hyewon peered in from across the table, leaning closer to get a better look. And Wonyoung - she was right next to you, too close. You could smell her perfume again. Then, without warning, she shifted even closer and rested her chin or your shoulder, like it was nothing. You felt like you were clinically dead. Her fingers reached out for the cuff of your rolled up sleeve. She began fidgeting with the fabric - gently folding it up and down, smoothing it out like it needed her help. Like she knew she was clearly setting every nerve in your arm on fire. Your breath stopped for a moment and your heart felt like it forgot how to beat. No one else seemed to notice.

For the next fifteen minutes, the restaurant faded out. They asked about your lighting choices, space planning, even what kind of clients you dealt with. 

“You can go into the other folder. There are more pictures…uh, easier to see how they turned out.” you said.

Wonyoung lifted her chin slightly and reached forward, tapping the screen.

“This one?”

“Yeah, that’s the finished shot.”

Her eyes scanned the photo, then she smiled - drawing you in.

“I like how you designed this space,” she pointed at a spot on the screen. “It feels like a nice touch. Like it’s lived in.”

And then - as if it was the most natural thing in the world - she replaced the hand that had been playing with your sleeves with the other one, letting her fingers drift along the back of your hand. She traced small circles there. You knew, she was actively trapping you with the gentlest, most casual touch in history. 

She’s got you good now.

You didn’t even know how to feel anymore. She didn’t look at you but her fingers never stopped moving. Yena and Hyewon, on the other hand, were busy talking and discussing about how the design would fit into their studio - where the flower prep area could be, how much the light could control the whole space, how their storage area could be hidden. And then, Yena swiped one more time before pausing. 

That photo. You were standing in the middle of a large gallery, dressed sharp and clean. On one side, Moon Seo-yoon - the chaebol’s daughter - radiant in a white jumpsuit. On the other side, her supermodel friend, Lee Gawon. Their arms hooked through yours and leaning a little too close to your shoulder, Gawon's face tilted toward yours like she had something to tell you.

Oh fuck. That wasn’t supposed to be in there.

“Wait, oppa.” Yena gasped. “Is that you?”

You cleared your throat, dreading this already.

“Uh, yeah, The small art gallery for the chaebol’s daughter I told you guys about a few minutes ago. That’s… uh, Moon Seo-yoon. The opening for her art gallery.”

Hyewon leaned in closer to confirm. “The Shinsegae girl?! You worked with her?”

“Uh… yeah,” you muttered, the wine glass suddenly looked so interesting.

Yena squinted at the screen. “Is that… Gawon?! The model Gawon?!”

You nodded slowly. 

“Yeah, she’s friends with Seo-yoon. That was…kind of a last-minute invite.”

Yena let out a low whistle. “You really are in the higher society, oppa.” 

“No, I’m not that kind of person. I just… work with them a lot.”

And just as you were mentally preparing for another disaster to strike, you felt Wonyoung’s fingers rhythm change - no more circles. She pinched the skin near your knuckle.

Once.

Twice.

Quick. Barely painful but somehow definitely felt too territorial. You turned your head slowly to look at her, your eyes wide. Wonyoung wasn’t looking at you - her face was perfectly neutral, like she was just watching Yena scrolling on the phone and nothing else. She nodded, playing along. You felt like she just claimed ownership of you in front of her two best friends. But her fingers returned to exactly where they were moments ago, this time resting against yours. 

And then, just as your heart began to settle, Wonyoung launched another attack. You felt a soft pressure on your shoe, the tip of hers stepping lightly on yours under the table.  Just enough to let you know she was there. That she knew exactly what she was doing. You couldn’t move. Not when she had a hold of your hand and foot.

Your ears were burning. Your chest was tight. You hadn’t felt like this in a long time.

Wonyoung said nothing. Then-

“Wait-” Yena spoke up, rescuing you from the moment. “Is that who I think it is?”

Hyewon gasped. “No way.”

“Huh?” you blinked, dazed.

“This one.” Yena turned the photo to show a photo of you, maybe a few months ago. You, standing inside of what looked like a sleek, private room. Behind you were works of art - like actual pieces from international artists, you didn’t know who they were but their paintings seemed too expensive for you. They didn’t pay attention to that. But more importantly, right beside you stood T.O.P from BIGBANG, hand over your shoulders, smiling while wearing sunglasses even indoors. To your left, an actor and some directors. Well, not an ameteur actor. It was the Lee Byung-hun. Yena looked at you, mouth open.

“Oppa. You know T.O.P and Lee Byung-hun? Why does he have his arm over your shoulder like you two hang out?”

“It was his gallery room at his house.” you replied, the pressure of Wonyoung was still on yours, like she was still making a silent claim. 

“I helped… uh, worked on that. Not alone, obviously. But he was really cool. I've been a big fan of BIGBANG since I was a kid so…”

“You were at his house?” Hyewon asked, eyes wide.

“Just for meetings and other stuff.” you said quickly. “And a few celebrations.”

Yena shook her head in disbelief. 

“Is this normal for you? Like high profile people and celebrities?”

You let out a breath, thinking of what to say. “No, not really. Our studio does a lot of stuff for those people, private commissions and stuff. I just happened to end up working with them sometimes.” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual.

None of those celebrities, those clients had ever made you feel as dismantled as you felt right now - under Wonyoung’s control. Still, you haven’t said a thing. No one else noticed the power struggle happening at the table, except the two of you. Wonyoung was winning. Effortlessly. Quietly.

Eventually, Yena passed your phone back with a shocked look in her eyes, muttering something about reevaluating her life. Hyewon sipped her drink and leaned back, stretching. Everyone shifted in her seats, the dinner settled back to its normal rhythm. Wonyoung drew her hand back and sat properly in her chair, crossed one leg over the other and turned her head towards you - her eyes soft and her voice calm.

“Oppa.” she opened, casually. “About the floral studio…”

You looked over at her, trying not to look too hopeful.

“Would you, you know… maybe help us with it?”

Her tone was light, but she didn’t smile this time. Like she really meant it.

“We want something warm and open. Something people walk into and just feel good by already being there. I think…” she paused, searching your face. “You get what we’re going for.”

There came the offer. No teasing anymore. Just honesty. You blinked twice before answering.

“Yeah… of course, I’d love to. Need a call to my boss but he trusts me.”

And this time, Wonyoung smiled. 

Damn, she’s beautiful.

Before either of you could say anything, Yena clapped her hands together.

“Then let’s celebrate. More drinks. Yayyy!”

Hyewon raised her glass. 

“Yayy! Cheers to our studio.”

“And to our new architect oppa who we found in Hong Kong.” Yena added, raising her glass.

You laughed under your breath as your glass clinked with theirs. Wonyoung took a sip, this one longer than the last ones. A few minutes passed in relaxed chatter, then Yena turned to Wonyoung, who was now resting her cheek on one hand, the other playing with her glass.

“Wonyoung-ah,” Yena said, suspiciously. “Are you okay? You know you’re a light drinker.”

“I’m fine, unnie.” Wonyoung replied, too quickly as she straightened up in her seat. “Totally fine.”

“You say that everytime.” Hyewon laughed.

“She’s almost at that stage.” Yena explained to you.

“She’s about to get all red, pouty and whiny. It’s slowly coming now.”

“I don’t pout.” Wonyoung mumbled in her breath, definitely pouting. You bit back a smile and looked into the scenery before she caught it. 

When the bill came and the plates were cleared, the mood stayed light. Yena stretched and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“We were gonna walk around a bit before heading back to the hotel. Maybe grab something light to eat along the way.”

Hyewon then turned to you.

“You should come with us, oppa. You’re already out, might as well stay longer, right?”

Wonyoung looked up at you then, eyes softer, sparkling under the warm lights. You paused.

“Yeah. Sure… Why not?”

The Hong Kong night air had cooled down just enough for the walk to feel nice. The four of you strolled along the Tsim Tsa Tsui Promenade, shoes tapping against the stone path as the city night life goes on in the background. Stunning. The skyline glittered on the other side of the water - skyscrapers lit up in colors, typical Hong Kong. 

Yena and Hyewon had drifted ahead, laughing at something between them. You knew it wasn’t an accident. They didn’t walk too fast - just far enough to leave you and Wonyoung behind. Wonyoung? She was blushing now - cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling from the wine, her steps were slower and a bit uneven. She was still very elegant. But her restraint was on a thin line, in the most dangerous way possible. And then, this girl reached for your shirt collar. Two fingers, light grip. Enough to pull you down, her lips were close to your ear, too close. You stiffened, holding back your breath.

And then, she whispered, slow and warm:

“...I know about your ex, oppa.”

Your heart dropped, heavy.

What the fuck?

“Yu Jimin.” she added. “Yena-unnie told me about her.”

You didn’t move any further. Well, you couldn’t anyway.

“She was beautiful, you know.” Wonyoung murmured, candies to your ear. 

“I spent like thirty minutes stalking her Instagram when I got back from the cafe.”

Her breath was so soft, hitting your ear and neck. Warm too. Her words did things to you that you couldn’t describe.

“Perfect skin. Beautiful face. The kind of girl that people noticed even when she’s not trying. Nice… body, too.”

You swallowed hard. You didn’t know what that tone of her was. Jealousy? Bitterness? That made it even worse. Then, Wonyoung let out a quietest laugh, enough to kill you.

“I was really sad when I thought you were one of those guys, you know? Fresh out of a breakup, walking around all polished and lonely. Looking for some new girl to satisfy your needs.”

No, I’m definitely not that type of guy.

She paused then pulled back slightly - just enough to tilt her head and look up at you, lashes heavy, smile lazy from too much wine.

“Oppa, you’re not those guys, right? 환승연애*…?”

*환승연애/hwanseung yeonae: like transit love, when some one’s fresh off a relationship, starting a new one but still deeply in love with the previous lover. Popular term recently in Korean, it went off due to a few dating programs.

Those words hit harder than any punch you ever took. You were about to answer, opening your mouth when Wonyoung cut in. 

“Yena-unnie vouched for you. Said you were a really nice, serious guy. Proper. Mature. The kind of man who does not play around. Just my type, oppa.” her smile widened, just enough.

And then she slid her hand up, slowly, calculated - the one that had been resting at her side, brushing over your chest before moving up to your throat, tracing around. Then, she hooked her finger at the second button of your shirt and unbuttoned it. Just one. But it felt like she had just stripped away all of your remaining confidence. Wonyoung then looked up, her voice low, dangerous.

“I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

You blinked.

“And I’ve never acted like this around anyone before…sober or drunk.”

And then she decided to finish you off with one last action. She poked you on your chest - right where your heart was - a few times, lightly.

“So… you better gain my trust, oppa.”

Wonyoung didn’t wait for a reply. She knew she had you in the palm of her hand. She turned and kept walking to catch up with Hyewon and Yena. Her hair was flowing in the wind, shining under the city glow.

Am I in a 90s Hong Kong romance?

You stood there for a few seconds. Breath shallow, chest burning. One button undone. Wonyoung did all that to you in just under one day. You dragged your hand over your face and exhaled.

Fuck…

The four of you eventually reached the end of the promenade, a quieter area where Yena was calling for the rides, Hyewon humming something while scrolling on her phone. Wonyoung was leaning slightly against a railing, Miu Miu bag over her shoulder. This girl looked far too classy and elegant to be tipsy - until you walked to her. She turned to you when you approached, eyes a bit wide, lips pouting in that dreamy, tipsy fashion. 

She could kill a thousand men with that look.

“Oppa.” she muttered. 

“Was I crazy… or annoying today?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Just wondering.” She leaned in again - the same way she had all night. 

“I don’t act this way normally. Or touch that much. Or…”

Her voice dropped, sultry but still had you waiting.

“...look at someone like this before. I just want to let you know that.”

Without waiting for your answer, she reached up to adjust the collar of your shirt, her knuckles intentionally brushing your jaw.

“I’m a little drunk.” she whispered, cheeks blazing. What were you supposed to say now? 

“But I still know what I’m doing, oppa.”

Her eyes wide, glassy, shining under the city glow. You could feel that lingering closeness. Then Yena called her, standing near a car. Wonyoung blinked slowly, like she didn’t want to let go before taking a small step back. One hand brushing her hair, the other playing with her expensive bag. Before she left, she said just one more thing. An order. Her voice low, sultry.

“Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

And then she walked away. You were now at a new chapter in your life.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

That night, you were on your bed. The hotel ceiling felt like it was spinning slowly above. Not from the wine, you were sure. You were on your phone, looking at her Instagram.

@for_everyoung10 - she already hit the follow button when you gave her your phone to add her contacts. She had already followed you back too.

140K followers. Not a celebrity. Not an influencer. Just… Jang Wonyoung. She wasn’t exactly a model either. But you could tell a few small local brands already caught on - tagged her in photoshoots for linen clothing, soft pastel colored clothing, “princess core” type of fashion. Nothing over the top. All clean, natural. Wonyoung looked like she belonged in every frame. You scrolled. Slowly.

A few GRWM (get ready with me) vlogs in her reels.

“Hi guys, get ready with me to…”

“Today I’m going for a smart casual look…”

“I’m using this foundation from…”

Fuck… her voice is so addicting.

A few clips of her dancing around with Yena and Hyewon somewhere.

A few clips of her trying out new cafes with her other friends.

You kept going. You didn’t even know you were smiling. Or that your chest was beating irregularly. What the hell was she doing to you? You were still staring at her feed when it hit you.

Shit. The studio.

You had casually agreed to a design project on the spot - with a girl who’d unbuttoned your shirt, poked your heart and walked off like she hadn’t messed up your whole system. You sighed before tapping on the group chat with Dabin and Barom.

[You]

you guys up?

[바롬보스] (Barom Boss)

barely. why? don’t tell me u got arrested in hongkong?

[다빈형]

is it that girl again?

it’s 12am in korea rn

[You]

video?

The screen flashed. Incoming video call. You answered.

Barom’s face filled the top corner, probably on his bed too. Dabin joined later - his face already grinning.

“Okay.” Barom said. “Talk.”

You rolled over on the bed.

“Hyung, I may have… accepted another project.”

Dabin squinted. “Define may have.”

Barom raised a brow. “Define project”

You sighed. 

“A floral studio. In words. In Yeonnam-dong.”

Then Barom broke into a laugh, switching to English with his Australian accent.

“A what? Since when do you design flower shops?”

“Since he met that dreamy girl this morning.” Dabin added, not without laughing.

“Why do I have to talk to you guys in English everytime?” you said.

“Deal with it. I’m your boss, us two are 교포*.” Barom replied.

*교포/gyopo: ethnic Korean but born and raised/living in foreign countries.

“Heritage.” Dabin said.

“So what’s the story? Client fell for your crisp suit and mysterious vibe.” Barom asked.

“Nothing like that.” you replied.

“Tell us.”

“So they’re just starting the studio - flower based shop, maybe a small coffee counter at the front, photo friendly interior. It’s been a passion project for them. They had someone to work on it but it didn’t work out. Wonyoung - the girl, asked me over dinner. I said yes before thinking too much about it.”

“Wonyoung?” Barom asked, confused.

“The girl I’m… you know.” you replied, rubbing your temple.

Barom nodded, like he understood exactly what you meant.

“Look, I get it. Your performance over the past few months has been solid. And honestly, we don’t have a crazy load right now. You’ve been clean on deadlines since day one. As long as it doesn’t clash with other projects, I’m okay with it. But…”

He stared right at you through the screen.

“Don’t take the job just because she’s pretty. That shit doesn’t end well.”

Dabin nodded.

“Yeah, especially with you, man.”

“C’mon, man.” you replied.

“But hey, I trust you. When you come back from Hong Kong, talk to me more about this and if it’s okay, I’ll send you out to lead this project. Like usual, you do most of the work and I just take a look at it before signing it off. Perfect teamwork.”

“Hey, thanks, man. I appreciate this trip, you know. After the break up and all that.”

Barom nodded, understanding your position.

“Yeah, you needed a break. Honestly, I should’ve made you take one sooner.”

“You almost worked yourself into death.” Dabin added.

“C’mon man…” you sighed.

“So how did you meet this girl?” Barom asked.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

After 30 minutes of video call, you set the phone down on your chest, exhaling slowly to calm yourself down. For a second, it was quiet before your phone buzzed.

[워녕이녕이🐰] sent you 2 images

You didn’t even have the chance to text her first. This girl always managed to surprise you. You tapped on the notification.

Wonyoung on her bed - makeup still there, cheeks a little flushed, long hair splayed around in that messy perfect way. The light was warm. Soft. Your brain short circuited immediately. Still staring when another text came. Stunning.

[워녕이녕이🐰] 

do i look cute?

hyewon unnie took it for me

she said i looked like i was in a drama  ��ㅋㅋ

You hovered over the keyboard. Typing before you backspaced. Rewrote it.

[You]

i think you just ended me

[워녕이녕이🐰] 

so should i post it on insta?

or…

keep this between us?

like a gift for u

Your heart skipped. You didn’t even know how to answer.

Damn… she got you good.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

yayy!! wony is the best!!! so i tried something new. at least that's what i thought. pls let me know what u guys think about this. i had a lot of fun writing this. thanks for reading!!

[coriphallus]

DA: The Veilguard Spoiler review pt2 - The Grime

this is a hard one to tackle without strawmaning anyone because itll be a direct response to alot of defense ive seen for the games morality system so ill just start by saying, iykyk

never a genre has been better equipped to discuss ethics than the interactive medium of games and yes, bioware games have been doing it since baldurs gate and no, theyve not always been 'centrist' and 'conservative'. im not even gonna entertain that idea. do you remember the cultural landscape DA:O released to? the landscape it was developed in? dont give me that just because zevran doesnt write in his little notes -that you can conveniently read- 'gay good. not me but me bisexual'

Thedas is a flawed world and its a world thats just as desperate to hang on to its status quo as our own. every time you play an elf thats thriving, or a human thats queer, or a mage thats not institutionalised you exist in a world that doesnt want you, it is an act of defiance that you do.

im sure we can all see why these games were so popular with the audience they can only weakly try to pander to today.

derailing time again; so one of my favourite paintings of all time is saturn devouring his son. it makes me feel so uncomfortable that it gave me nightmares as a child, and i still cant look at it without feeling this knot in my throat. i hate it. i hate how it makes me feel, how that man looks at me in terror like its begging me for help while cannibalising another. weird story but i was bewitched by that painting as a little kid.

it is not a well drawn painting, the proportions are all over the place, brush strokes crude and inelegant. it doesnt even have a deeper story nor was it intended for an audience. i will never know what goya thought of when drawing it.

i thought alot about that painting later in my life when i was struggling with mental health problems, i thought about goya alot too as an adult and after learning about his life. i stared at his paintings and remembered when i told my dad that i hated [saturns] big eyes and hed jokingly said "it would be scarier if he didnt have eyes"

i know what the drawing looks like now, nearly everyone with a little access to the internet does. if somebody removed saturn from it, we'd still be left with a brutalised headless carcass of a man in a canvas too big for itself. if we removed that too all we'd be left with would be void.

i dont want to live in a world where all i know of goya is his rococo work, i dont want to stare at the painting of a void knowing what filled it before. i hated every second of germinale but i never wanted it to be anything other than itself, the story it tells could never hold credence otherwise.

DAV has done its best to paint over it, but its still on the old canvas and i cant look away from the negative space its left, i know whats under it and it unsettles me, infuriates me. it hands me a palette with baby blues and pinks and tells me to paint over it to make a prettier painting. didnt i hate the eyes? wasnt it gross before?

i am not going to write why we need some grime in art, but its absence is disheartening. and to those who say hanged people in the streets or blighted villagers is dark and mature ill say no. its a kids idea of maturity, its the aesthetic of it with no substance. it means nothing to me if rook can just drench themselves in gallons of blight as they crawl through it. the horror of blight has never been the black goo and slimy tentacles, or the monster woman with way too many tits. it is watching people you love slowly fade away, it is a woman who was forced to cannibalise the contaminated flesh of her friends because the woman she loved betrayed her, it was the sheer scale and inevitability of it.

one area we go to is overrun by it and the game begs me to feel hopeful that flowers are growing again when it never let me lose hope. people have already prevailed, they have roofs over their heads and a steady supply of food on their tables. their spirit is unwavering.

its bad, everybody says. the sky is grey and soil is blackened, as my rook turns some statues to access a haunted house whos inhabitants are long gone and the only story they could ever tell is gone with them.

if the question is do i want to see famine? plague? misery? abuse? assault? the answer is yes. yes. i want to see it all of the filth. i rather face the fucking monster head on with its big bulging eyes and misshapen limbs than stare at the abyss its absence leaves on the canvas.

and if nothing else, this bastardization is disrespectful to the people who gave the IP its fame.

Why choose to be good?

back in the bsn days ive wondered why, even in a fictional universe where your choices have no real-life repercussions what-so-ever, players had more 'good' playthroughts than 'bad'?

what happens when you start killing NPCs, when youre needlessly mean to them? the game actively closes off its own content. you get less out of the game. just as, completely incidentally, you'd get less out of your life if you just started killing everyone around you. The world would be emptier, youd be alone.

in that quote i stole from good place chidi doesnt ask "why be good?" the wording is painfully deliberate. doing good is always a choice, and often not the easy one. what makes the act matter is that you chose to do it, even when given 6 other options not to. did i stop in the middle of an important quest to help a man retrieve an heirloom from a darkspawn infested hut? did i hear what that heirloom meant to him?

i cant stop thinking about that speech ever since playing this game after knowing its predecessors.

So, why do it then? Why choose to be good, every day, if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.

i cant stop looking at this game that spits on its own legacy and think how could they have missed what fundamentally makes us human so bad, what makes us relate and empathise with eachother. what makes us pick the option to interact with an npc who openly hates what hawke is, and allow us to see the traumatised man underneath.

these characters of fiction are written by real people. i have absolutely nothing in common with a guy from canada yet for a brief moment in time i feel a sense of camaraderie as ive felt with goya that i couldnt articulate as a kid.

Nothing too terrible

DAV says it over and over again -as its wont to do with every piece of its flimsy morality- that people can change, people can be redeemed yet it shines as the game with most static characters in its franchise. it simply says things, and since it has nothing to show for it it makes sure to say it repeatedly, in case you missed it.

so when i first played DAO i was in high school, i started with a human noble because fresh out of dark side edgy kotor fame i wanted to be a posh brat. also because, ya kno, we were poor my entire life up until that point and i wanted to have power.

i committed to it, even as the game stripped cousland of everything he had, because i thought a man like him would. i picked the racist options, the sexist options, the options a man in couslands place would. halfway point of the game as i exhausted the initial dialogues something happened; this man who got paid to kill people, who showed no remorse nor care for his victims, begged my cousland to stil his blade.

and i did. i thought maybe he would be as confused as i was, maybe he had a moment of clarity but from thereon bit by bit he was less of an asshole. the characters grew around me, and my character grew around them. i chose to be good because -textually- we were in this together, at the end of all things.

rook is not a character, theyre a mascot. and quite frankly i think they may be a very evangelical mascot because they remind me of evangelical preachings of jesus more than the man from the bible (and i say this as someone whos only exposure to christianity has been through foreign media and the bible ive read that one time). they are the epitome of do no evil and their existence hinges on the frail concept of moral purity. theyre not a person trying to do good, who wants to be good, they are 'good'

-and lemme tell you its a wild choice to have someone like that locked in a prison of 'regret'-

rook can be mean to only one person in the game, and thats someone they dont even have a personal beef with for the most part. but even then they would be shouting at a wall because the game doesnt only undermine them with its narrative, but also every npc in the game suddenly gets possessed by the ghost of wattpad rejects past for a moment to tell them everyone can be redeemed. and i believe it because i played the other games, i believe it because i know zevran and sten and morrigan, isabela and thom and iron bull and dorian. i know it because i can see the vague shapes behind the new coat of paint but i am not rook.

so no, the game fails to get people-can-change points by its own merit, and it cannot gain points from its prequels because it destroyed them. none of those characters i watched grow exist in this universe. zevran cant exist with DAV crows, fenris` story cant exist in an imperium with invisible slaves only glimpsed through empty cages and broken chains left scattered on the ground. i dont know which morrigan this NPC is, is it the woman who grew to learn kindness, who begged to sleep with her friend just to save them despite knowing it would play into the plans of a destiny she so desperately tried to break free from? or is she the clever puppet her mother groomed her to be who wanted to harness the power of a god? i dont know her, i dont know this dorian or this isabela beyond their names ipso facto this is not a sequel.

bellara asks an assassin why he is trying to save the world and his answer is "ive done some things in the past im not too proud of. nothing too terrible, but some of it was bad." and i can hear the games desperation for me to not engage with its material in that 'nothing too terrible'

lucanis never killed anyone innocent, taash never harmed an animal they could shoo of or reason with, emmrich venerates the dead and is friends with every wisp he pulls to use in menial labour, davrin joined the wardens willingly because he wanted to do good...

rook tells harding that her anger is justified when shes not even allowed anger of her own.

nothing too terrible.

aside from creating boring and nonsensical and static characters it creates a dreadful echochamber that we're forced to sustain. No taash is not valid, their gender is but their behaviour is not and for the character to grow and mature it needs to be addressed. lucanis doesnt need to be pampered in shock blankets he needs to see how repressing his problems and jeopardising his health puts people around him in danger etc etc. they are adults and they need to learn more complex ways of healing. and if rooks flaw is that theyre an enabler, then that needs to be acknowledged by the narrative in some way too, and not mindlessly endorsed because they say some buzzwords.

none of these interpersonal relationships feels real because none of these people feel real beyond some draft of themes and tropes. some interactions literally remind me of two bots in facebook comments

i look at this dialogue wheel with familiar symbols and all im reminded of is hawke telling carver he carries every death with him, of him telling his uncle that he wasnt fast enough, of him begging the person he loves to tell him that his mothers death wasnt his fault.

and they dont. they just sit there with him.

[locomoqo]

first time for everything

— taehoon seong x reader

details: NSFW under the cut, fem bodied reader, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v, protected, its reader's first time!

A/N: WAHHH HI TO THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS (I lost ur rq while editing im so sorry TT) i hope i did ur request right!!! kinda went overboard with this (wc 2.1k lolol) also one down on my list yippee!!

Taehoon isn't known for being expressive. Stoic and cold, he's got the looks and the body, but ask any girl he’s dated before, and they'll tell you he was distant, maybe even an ass. But ever since meeting Hobin and the rest of the group, he’s started to change, little by little. He still keeps up that tough exterior around others, but when he's with you? That facade crumbles, piece by piece, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He still remembers the first time he met you, and to be honest, he didn’t care much for you back then. But over time, he began searching for your presence in every room he walked into, his hands instinctively seeking yours whenever you were near.

He’s realized something important: he could exist without you, sure, but living without you? That’s something entirely different.

So, he’s been trying—trying to be romantic, to show his affection, just like tonight. It was supposed to be a perfect evening. You and Taehoon had planned a simple night out: dinner, followed by a quiet stroll through the city. The weather was fine when you left, the sky clear, and neither of you bothered checking the forecast.

But, of course, halfway through your walk, the sky darkened ominously. The first raindrop hit Taehoon’s cheek, and before you could even register what was happening, it was pouring. The kind of downpour where even an umbrella wouldn’t have been much help—not that you had one.

His hand found yours as the rain came down in sheets, the cold droplets soaking through your clothes almost immediately. “C’mon, we’ve got to find shelter.” he said as he put his jacket over your head. You both broke into a sprint, your shoes sloshing in the growing puddles, water splattering up your legs as you ran.

After a few minutes of dashing through the rain-soaked streets, you found temporary cover beneath the awning of a small convenience store. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, flickering occasionally as if protesting the weather.

“I don’t think it’s stopping anytime soon,” Taehoon muttered, pulling out his phone from his pocket to check the weather. It was almost as if he had been cursed today because, to his surprise, his phone was dead. You shivered, your wet clothes clinging to your skin like a second, uncomfortable layer.

“So… now what?” you ask, trying to sound optimistic, but even you could hear the weariness in your voice. He scanned the street, brows furrowed. Most places were either closed or looked far too expensive for a short stay. But then his gaze caught something in the distance—a neon pink sign glowing faintly through the mist of rain.

A love hotel.

His gaze drifts over to you, observing your tired and freezing state. His gaze drifts back to the hotel, it’s embarrassing, but you’re both soaked, cold, and honestly exhausted. “...I have an idea.” He hesitantly suggests the idea of staying at the love hotel for the night. You followed his gaze, spotting the hotel’s unmistakable pink glow.

A sigh escaped your lips, half-amused and half-resigned. It wasn’t the kind of place you’d ever imagined staying in, especially not under these circumstances, but you were soaked to the bone, and the idea of a warm, dry room was becoming more appealing by the second.

“Sure I guess we don’t have much of a choice,” you say with a nod, your voice tinged with humor despite the absurdity of it all. With a shrug and a mutual understanding, the two of you dash through the rain once more, making your way towards the hotel entrance.

The lobby was clean but unmistakably catered to a certain type of clientele. Soft, suggestive lighting bathed the room in a warm glow. The hotel clerk barely looked up as you approached, not fazed in the slightest by the soggy couple in front of her. Clearly, she’d seen it all before.

You can’t help but laugh a little at the situation as she handed the keycard to him. “Never thought our first stay at a love hotel would be like this,” you joke, nudging Taehoon with your shoulder. He only grumbles and nudges you back, pocketing the keycard before walking off to go to your room.

“Well… this is cozy,” you said with a small laugh, trying to break the tension. You grabbed one of the complimentary robes from the closet, grateful for something dry to wear. Taehoon did the same, tossing his soaking wet jacket over the back of a chair.

The robe was soft against your skin, warming you almost instantly. You both slipped into the large bed, the thick blankets swallowing you up in their warmth. Despite the slightly awkward circumstances, the room itself was comfortable, and you found yourself relaxing into the plush pillows. The rain outside continued its relentless rhythm, drumming softly against the windows. It was oddly soothing now that you were out of it, tucked away in a cozy room with nothing to do but rest (or at least that’s what you thought).

Taehoon watched you for a moment before he reached out, his hand finding yours under the blankets. He didn’t say anything, just gave your hand a gentle squeeze. The sudden contact has you turning your head to him, “What?” You ask with a small smile, squeezing his hand back. “Nothing.” He says, “You just look pretty in this lighting.” He tucks your hair behind your ear. You giggle at his words, “Is this really the Taehoon Seong I know?” You joke, shuffling under the sheets to get closer to him. 

The space between you narrows, your eyes flickering briefly to his lips. That subtle movement prompts his hand to slide to the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. It was meant to be soft, sweet—just a gentle press of lips. But when his leg accidentally grazes against your core, drawing a soft moan from you, he instinctively rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. The kiss deepens, becoming more intense than either of you intended.

He nudges his knee against your heat again, and the needy whine that escapes your lips spurs him on. Your hand guides him to your breast, slipping it beneath the fabric of your robe. His thumb circles the sensitive peak, the kiss growing even deeper, as if testing the limits. Your hands tremble slightly before finding their place on his chest, pressing gently against the warmth of his skin. The lingering kiss stirs something between you, a tension that had been building all night.

You’ve been here before—kissing, touching, letting your hands roam—but tonight feels different. There's an urgency in the way he touches you, a hunger that hasn't surfaced before. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake. The soft sigh that escapes your mouth only encourages him further, as your body arches into his touch.

“You okay?” he whispers, his voice thick with desire but still filled with care.

You nod, breath catching in your throat as his hand slides your robe open, his thumb grazing the underside of your breast. Meeting his gaze, you see the mix of tenderness and longing in his eyes, and it sends your heart racing.

“Taehoon…” you whisper, and he hums in response. “You know how we’ve never actually...done it before?” you ask, your voice hesitant. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “What if we changed that? Tonight?”

His brow furrows slightly, processing your words. “Are you...sure?”

“Yes.” You nod, your hands tracing the lines of his arms, feeling the muscles tense beneath your fingers. With that, the atmosphere shifts. The kiss becomes hungrier, more insistent, your bodies pressing together as the heat between you both rises. His hands explore your body with newfound confidence, pulling you closer until there’s hardly any space left between you. Anticipation builds, making your pulse race.

A mix of excitement and nervousness washes over you, but it’s overpowered by how much you want this. How much you want him.

Taehoon pulls back for a moment, his hands cradling your face with such gentleness, grounding you amidst the growing intensity. He looks at you like you’re his entire world.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation. When you nod again, he stares at you for a moment longer, feeling his restraint slowly breaking.

“We’ll take it slow,” he promises, his voice soft but heavy with desire.

His hand ventures lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear, his long, slender fingers sliding effortlessly against the slickness of your arousal. You bite your lip as he smiles, murmuring, “Already so wet.” He glances at you briefly, then back down at the glistening wetness between your thighs.

Throwing the covers over his head, he adjusts himself on the bed, moving closer to your core. A shiver runs through you as he pulls your underwear down, and a sharp gasp escapes when his tongue traces a slow line between your folds. Instinctively, you want to close your legs, but he holds them apart, his grip firm.

The way he devours you is intoxicating, and you can feel the walls of your cunt clenching around nothing as he thrusts his tongue deeper inside. He knows exactly how it's affecting you—the sounds spilling from your lips make him grind against the bed, chasing some of his own relief.

“T–Taehoon-!” you moan, and that's when he decides to bring his fingers into play. He thrusts them inside you with deliberate, powerful movements, causing your thighs to tremble and your moans to come faster. He hums against your core, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through you. The knot in your stomach tightens with every precise curl of his fingers and the attention his tongue gives your clit.

It's clear this isn’t his first time. You know it’s not. But it’s the first time he’s doing this with genuine intent to please, rather than just seeking a quick release. As you come undone beneath him, he withdraws his fingers slowly, savoring the taste of you. He gives you a moment to catch your breath before leaning up and pressing his lips to yours again. Your hands fumble with his shirt while he works to remove his pants. He breaks the kiss, his gaze shifting to the bedside table.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, confused by the sudden pause. He opens the drawer, pulling out a condom.

“Protection,” he says simply, tearing the packet open with his teeth. You giggle, “You should do that more often.”

“Are you implying we’re going to be doing this more often?” he asks with a smirk, positioning himself at your entrance.

“Well, that depends,” you tease, a playful smile on your lips, “on whether or not you do our first time justice.” Taehoon rolls his eyes but there’s a touch of seriousness in the air. “Just tell me if something doesn’t feel right, okay?” he quietly says, searching your eyes for any hesitation. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

Slowly, he eases himself inch by inch into you. You gasp, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you adjust to his size. He stays still, giving you time to get used to the feeling. “You alright?” he groans, pressing gentle kisses to your face, wiping away your tears. His hand finds yours, fingers interlocking. “M–Mhm,” you manage, squeezing his hand as you exhale shakily. He begins to move, dragging his length out slowly before thrusting back in, drawing a sharp moan from your lips.

“Fuck…” you breathe out, your body trembling as he finds a steady rhythm. He starts slow, not wanting to overwhelm you, but soon his pace quickens. Your soft walls grip him with each stroke, and his breathing grows heavy as you pull at his hair, your nails leaving crescent marks on his skin. The sound of your moans drives him wild, his own deep groans mingling with yours.

“You feel so good, too good,” he grunts, burying his face in your neck, biting and kissing as he continues to move. Your moans fill the room, echoing off the walls as sweat beads on your skin, your head lolling to the side.

“I’m gonna–I’m gonna cum–!” you pant, legs tightening around his waist as you approach your peak. Taehoon’s thrusts become more urgent, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice strained with desire.

You let out a loud moan, your body shuddering as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. Taehoon follows soon after, his movements slowing as he cums into the condom, his body finally coming to rest.

“So,” he starts, lifting his head from your neck with a smug grin, “did I do our first time some justice?”

[blorbocedes]

BLONDE TWINK BARES IT ALL! GETS A MASSAGE ;)

williams!era nico gets a massage by dr.dot for RTL in a video that looks like a casting couch bad porn intro. 1/2/2009

below i explain the lengths i went to find this 👇 its v long

so our story starts a few months ago when i began frantically dming my oldest nicologist friend @colors-of-feeling if she remembered this video. I had only half remembered recollections at this point, and i really only remembered the video because it looks so much like a casting couch porn intro. I know I screenshot it but I went through my gallery and couldn't find it. i knew I had seen it a very long time ago and care is one of my first mutuals, so anything nico I've seen she's seen. she doesn't rmbr 😓

now im like holy shit did i make it up. still i plead care to turn her archive public so i can go through it. no luck. i went through my own archive, even though i know I didn't reblog it because it had been a youtube link instead of the video. and i regretted it so bad, because i know that low quality few hundred or thousand views videos from 2000s is basically lost footage because youtubes search is basically incomprehensible. I also went through the archives of other blogs that nico posted back in 2021 for any sign that I didn't just project and Imagine it. no luck.

feeling defeated i go to my final hope, the nicologist of all nicologists @distantlaughter... with only half baked and increasingly hysterical descriptors "umm its like a casting couch video! a boat! but the boat is parked 🤔 maybe the masseuse had pigtails" i rambled, normally like a normal person.

ren the absolute darling immediately pops up with a video of shirtless nico get massaged. its not.

and another one. not that either 😓 we underestimated just how much nico posted getting a shirtless massage.

finally. FINALLY. ren dms me like 10 seconds of this video hidden in a nico rosberg compilation fan video that is even in worse quality. but it's this video!!!!!! it EXISTS!!! im not crazy....... but that 3 pixel collage was proof that it was real, but alas not post worthy. There was an RTL logo in the corner so in one final futile search, we searched RTL archives which unfortunately did not go far enough. We were doing literal detective work like from the 10 seconds of the fanvid we concluded it was like, probably an RTL monaco promo video hence the coastline and the boat, and given nico's hair length it must be williams (or 2010 merc). but nothing further than that. still ren is the absolute goat nicologist who figured it out from just my descriptions alone 🙏🙏🙏

with that I ended my search, knowing it was real at least, even if it wasn't the full video.

today i got a storage full notification. so I started frantically deleting random videos I had on my phone from years. and buried in august 9, 2022 almost exactly TWO years ago . was 5 seconds of this video and the when the screen recording closed you could see it was from a video called Dr. Dot.

this time im posting the video, im also going to ask @argentinagp to gif it so this buried, almost lost footage less than 1k youtube video can get a second life again, and so we can all enjoy weird late 2000s whoring drivers out. ❤️

all of this could be avoided if simply 2 years ago I had reblogged and tagged the original link. archival work is often thankless and pointless but wow, sometimes it can feel so rewarding. so enjoy!

which brings me to the most important part. doesn't he totally look like a twink in a bad porno here?

[velvetvexations]

i think a lotttt of newly out or young trans people just. don't know who blair white is. don't remember kalvin garrah (although i heard he's apologised now?). don't remember the absolute onslaught of "tucute caricatures" in the mid-2010s, and the criticisms and eventual discarding of it. ive been out and online in some form or another for, holy fucking shit, a full decade now, and having watched all this unfold and change and mutate into the discourse we have today, while more and more laws are being made against our existence across different countries is... look, if your post attempts to invoke other trans people's dysphoria, or calls them a tucute/transtrender without saying it outright, or dismisses their experiences of transphobias as not real/not bad, then you're not combatting transphobia within the community, you are the transphobia within the community. you're being a transmed. saw a post that was like "oh it's not safe for you to transition? its not safe to do anything, take the estrogen" yeah or how about we respect people's abilities to judge whether they're safe or not??? "stop telling people they're still valid if they don't transition" but... they are. ive been out for a decade and ive not transitioned. id love to but testosterone is a controlled substance and i can't afford all the appointments necessary to get it right now. im still a man. hrt should be something people take when they want, if they want, when they feel ready. but saying stuff like that gets twisted into "so you're against transition? you're against the same thing cis transphobes are against?" no mfer im against transmedicalism. im against the in-community pressure to transition as soon as possible without thinking it through. im pro- telling people that transition is worth it, that it's awesome, im pro- combatting all the lies about how dangerous it is that are spread by cis people who don't understand us, but "if you don't transition for any reason you're still trans" and "yeah if you realise it was a bad idea you can always just detransition so if you think it's for you, go ahead!" isn't... those are both good messages actually. transmeds used to just say tucutes dni and then you'd know they were an asshole right out the gate. now they couch it all in talk about how detransitioners are traitors to the community and tmes with a complex relationship to gender are lying intruders. we already did this!!!!

SOMEHOW TRANSMEDS RETURNED

[goo-dripley-art]

actually remembering to do smth, doodles of stuff in my room if it were a darkworld. more (kinda unorganized stuff) under the cut lol

little explanation rq: the idea i had in mind for the world as a whole, the creation splits the psyche into a couple of dudes (shoutout to my BrainGuys) who are now trying to "end the dream" so to speak. basically, im locked away in the container and the #Girls must save me..... they will be shown later

which leads into Lockinsky! He's a lock-box that I keep some personal items in. I thought the idea of a power-hungry dude who Literally wants to fill the void within was a cool lil idea.

Pockitt is, if you could believe it, a pocket knife i've had since i was a little amoeba. Highly skilled assassin, she shows up occasionally just to be a dickhead. No allegiance to anyone, she's just in it for the love of the game. and money.

bunch of doodles. featuring pockitt's living blade (maybe her sister????? i havent decided)

Creeptake is probably my favorite of the one's I've designed so far. When Lockinsky took over he locked a lot of things away; any perceived threat to his rule was swept under the rug. Art was a big one, and an entire gallery (my unsorted art folder on my laptop) of what he calls "freak pictures" was abandoned...

Normally, you wouldn't even be able to get here in normal game play... unless, you find the curator. Since "Man" does not exist in this reality, she takes his place to offer a progression item. Completely optional.

Back to Creeptake. They're a living painting who simply is not content to be forgotten. They want to be seen, to entertain... Their "fight" is more of a chase sequence than anything. Very IB and Ao Oni inspired in that regard. Little fight segment at the end that, in essence, is a prolonged staring contest.

i luv creeptake thats my booboo. it's a real softie once it calms down.

it also talks like, this. ^

but it aint a darkworld without like. players n whatnot. say hello to the 4 bitches that share this brainspace🫡

There's a doc i have with a couple o loose ideas, but i dont feel like getting updated screenshots. you understand, of course

(shoutout to my friend giving me the idea of 'ForeCaster' as a class. its peam)

I imagine the gameplay would be a little different (i keep picturing a more borchestra-esque placement system) but i didnt feel like reinventing the wheel

thats all i got atm though, was gonna do some area sketches today if i can stay awake long enough. thank you for coming to my Slime Talk (ted talk if it was slime)

[chair002]

old clip but i remembered about it today and ughhhh just. everything about it.

BACON: Alright Mape, are we a team? Just like Season 5?

im pretty sure theyre talking about this specific duel theyre about to have and not chingpire as a whole but it applies still. the fact that early chungpire happens after Mapicc tries so hard to get Bacon to join Mawn and this is him finally getting what he's been wanting & pining for for sooo long. but also unlike all those times Mapicc tried to convince Bacon to join Mawn and Bacon gave him the cold shoulder, it's Bacon who's the first to start reminiscing how theyre a team again 'just like season 5'. And damn it sounds like he's missed this as much as Mapicc did.

MAPICC: Just like the old days, buddy!

and mapicc picks up like yeah!!! it is just like season 5!!! even though its nothing like it really, but Bacon just existing by his side makes it 'just like season 5'. It's not been a long time since S5 but this 'old days' makes it sound very nostalgic and like something worth missing.

BACON: Dude, we could do all of our old pvp tactics.

Minecraft PVP equivalent of going around a park with your ex and pointing out all the spots you've once had dates at and going do you remember when we did this and that? Remember our shared history and do you think we could do it again? Havent you missed ittt havent you missed me? Surely Mapicc still remembers it all too, he still knows what to do and how they work together and how he can reproduce those old habits.

MAPICC: You run and I carry?

Now for this you need to know that in S6 Mapicc brings up multiple times how dissatisfied he was with Bacon as a teammate. Not directly but he'll say stuff like 'Flame is a teammate I don't have to carry' and then when Bacon doesn't respond in any meaningful way he will add 'Very tired of carrying teammates' just to you know. Reiterate that idea. (clip) There are other instances of him doing this but HERE he is not being malicious. Here it's just teasing. It's obvious he wants to fight together with Bacon, why would he complain about having to do it after he actively sought it out? He's not mad. And usually Bacon doesn't respond well to comments about his skill level because. You know. That's like the one thing he is insecure about in himself. But he just laughs! He giggles at Mapicc's playfully mean comment and it's not hurting him. Yeah, the implication is that Mapicc had to carry Bacon around like dead weight the entire Season 5 and thats pretty hurtful but it doesnt even matter anymore because theyre back together and the atmosphere between them is so friendly and in a weird way mawkishly nostalgic (which does NOT happen with losers often they are never sentimental about each other) that Mapicc's comment just cannot be taken in any negative light. They're gonna have fun together and they know it. And its just. aghhhhh. 13 second clip but so much can be said about their dynamic at that point in time i love it!!!

[asmogorna]

Okay so there’s this ww artist on ig called like tooth lilys or something and he’s always causing drama in the ww fandom and he mouthed off about your art and now heaps of insta ww fans are like talking about you :| free publicity?

ahhhh so thats whats happening .. lmao thats crazy

i checked out their story, and i sure doooo love how they leave some things out when talking about both situations that they mentioned to make me look worse ..

ok so

warning, yap session incoming

the "will wood in a (miku) binder" thing happened back in fall 2023 when i was still semi new to the fandom and didnt know a lot of things. so tho i to this day i dont think it was that big of a deal, i wouldnt do it today

it was an artwork made for shits and giggles, the context of which i have explained here before. i never meant to imply that will wood is trans and i certainly dont "headcanon" him as that. my curse is that even when joking around i tend to try and make my art look good, so i get why people thought it was unironic. and i know that it sounds like a lame ass excuse, but it legit didnt cross my mind that people would think i drew will wood as a trans guy or smth. legit my only thought process was "funny haha internet thing" + "my favorite thing" = "good idea"

now the usage of his real name is something i am genuinely sorry for, but it was an accident and a genuine mistake on my part. i remember seeing someone mention it casually in some comment section, and assuming that it was ok, since i didnt know he was in any way against it. (i also thought that it was the same name that he used in "the real will wood" in that one section cus it sounded a bit similar).

when i was informed about the fact that he doesnt want it spread around i deleted the post right away and apologized, so bringing it up like something i did on purpose and out of malicious intent is a tad bit .. misfitting, if you can use that word

now the hot topic of the day: my waywood art

i have said this before and i will say this again, how i feel about rpf is solely based off how the people involved feel about it

to clarify: i never drew anything inappropriate or even suggestive with them, the "worst" thing is 2 simple sketches of them smoochin. or. this.

idk if this is what they were referring to when talking about me drawing will wood and gerard way "making out" (specifically. because i think "making out" implies to be more sexual stuff than small kisses). and if so, then it once again feels like blowing things out of proportion

and now the point i want you to get: will wood wouldnt give a flying fuck

like i said earlier, i never drew anything inappropriate, because that would actually cross will's existent and real boundaries. you know, the ones that he stated

im not making some conspiracy theories about him being gay, like some people seem to imply in their inbox messages to me

im not sending a whole ass smut fanfiction to litwtc gmail or something, i dont bother him in instagram dms asking if he wants to fuck gerard way, im not shipping him with people who he actually knows personally and has to look in the eyes of from time to time

im not doing anything that he would actually care about

him and chris have joked about him being attracted to gerard before, and though im not saying that you can joke about everything theyve ever joked about, i feel like in our case its clear that will clearly doesnt care about the implications ? (i generally believe that ww fans would get their panties twisted about less things if more of them listened to what these 2 talk about so calmly on litwtc but i digress)

if he saw that some random teenager on tumblr is drawing him and gerard way (gasp of horror) holding hands, he'd laugh at it max and then move on with his day

people are treating the whole situation like i posted pictures of him from when he was a kid or leaked patreon content or drew him fully naked or anything else that, you know, would actually affect him in one way or another

what im doing is innocent fun which isnt even likely to reach either of them. will wood very rarely checks tumblr and, once again, i genuinely dont believe he would care. and gerard way aint got no internet + he doesnt care x 2

it is weird but rn this is what brings me the most joy, even if its silly to say. both will wood and gerard way mean a lot to me and putting them in situations together makes me happy. i am but a child full of fun whimsy

i wont be posting any more explicitly romantic art to avoid more drama, and i also wont be responding to all the anon messages i received because there are like .. too many of them. an overwhelming amount i'd say. sorry about that

i really didnt mean to cause such a fuss, and i understand why some people might be uncomfortable with what i do

i fully understand why you would dislike my waywood hyperfixation shenanigans, and i dont have a problem w you over that, but treating me like pure evil because of a thing so insignificant is just.. overdoing it

once again, i will be toning it down, but it really isnt the end of the world if i dare to draw will wood and gerard way being a tad bit gay (which is, i apparently need to mention, not me actually saying that will wood the alternative musician is a homosexual gay who is in a genuine for real actual real gay homosexual relationship with gerard fucking way the lead singer of my chemical romance. i think speculating on other people's sexuality and gender identity is boooo tomato tomato tomato)

sorry for the rant and sorry to all who were disappointed by my lack of remorse. come back in a couple years when i turn 18 and stop having fun and artistic freedom

thank you for your attention and i hope i at least cleared some things up to those who werent w me throughout every event where i get involved in fandom drama

bye bye

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Cg!Van x Little!Reader (me)

This is the most self indulgent fic you’ll probably ever read. So. Yeah.

Notes -> crying, lots of crying, negative self thought, the most brief mention of sh, she/they papa Van, fem little!reader (who has had a very bad day. Probably got yelled at by their principal or something, I wouldn’t know), a weird anecdote because im not used to this writing style.

Word count: 1034

The water is hot - burning really - where it had been ice cold only moments before. It had been a feeble attempt to calm your breathing, jolting your body with cold water to slow your heart. It’s a fact you learnt in 10th grade science, from your batshit crazy teacher who warbled on about genetic modification all year and quit with no warning. It worked for about ten seconds today before you were back to hauntingly achy cries. The tears - at least - don’t burn in comparison to the water you’d just shot up unthinkingly in temperature. They won’t leave tracks after you get out, either, the only worry you need to have right now is that you are being so loud and everyone can definitely hear. At least the thought of everyone knowing how much of a pathetic cry baby you are is distracting your mind from the real reason you’re here. The bone rattling, bower constrictor wrapping around your chest, levels of anxiety you’d felt today from only a simple miscommunication. One you hadn’t been able to explain because you were crying - loud and ugly in front of too many people who now all knew how wrong, and bad, and stupid you were.

You cry a little harder- simply because the thought of today is too much for you. Everything is - in this headspace - too much for you. At least that’s how you feel, when all you can do is tighten your arms around your shins and cry for your Papa. They aren’t coming, though, because Van is out at the shops and doesn’t know this is happening. You shouldn’t let the next thought in but you do anyway - even if they did know what was happening, they wouldn’t care. Because you’re a stupid, over dramatic, crybaby. Your body hurts, you feel sore and raw as you claw at your skin for some sort of solace. Nothing works. Water pools in your mouth, which you have to garble over to breathe. At least, you think, the snot is being washed away as you cry - unlike earlier today when a tissue box had been shoved into your hands because it was just awkward to watch how your face became so stricken with tears and snot and red, hot shame. No one’s watching you now, you have to remember, cry as loud as you want.

There’s a knock on the door - the kind of sound which feels unreal and you almost second guess its existence until it comes back accompanied by a voice. “Kiddo, can I come in?” It’s Van’s voice - sturdy and calm like it always is. You want to respond, but all that comes out is a pitifully desperate whine and another wave of pathetic tears. Van lets herself in anyway - because they know you need them right now, because even if you don't have words to ask for it you still deserve comfort.

“Oh, baby,” their voice is low and gentle as they crouch down by the side of the bathtub. Van rolls up the navy fabric of their sweater sleeve and stretches an arm out to hold against your bare back. “Poor thing,” she coos - and the gentle tone is enough to still your tears for a moment. Just long enough to notice the growing ache spreading across your forehead. Van’s hand rubs back and forth across your back - they don’t seem to care that the shower water is splashing up onto their clothes. You lean into the touch, desperate to be held and reminded that you’re still worthy of this gentle touch. “I need you to take gentle breaths with me baby.” You’ve stopped crying, yes, but your breath is still coming in and out with such speed you might inflate your lungs so much that you just float away.Van is breathing loud, and slow, she doesn’t tell you to copy her breathing but it’s there for you if you want it. And you do. You copy her slow breaths until yours match perfectly and your hearts are probably beating at the same time. You can finally jam your thumb into your mouth, that feels nice. “Let’s get you out and cozy,” Van hums. There isn’t any pressure in her voice, just a level of certainty which makes you feel not in charge for just this moment. It’s ok to let Van take control when you’re like this.

She lets you stand up on your own time, holding your arm tightly when you start to sway. Everything feels heavy and you want to drop back to the shower floor and start crying all over again. But you don’t, and you won’t, because Van is holding you and she won’t let you fall. “That’s it, you’ve got it,” she praises gently as you finally step out of the bathtub and onto the soft mat. Van is quick to wrap you in your towel - it’s pink and still a little damp from when you’d showered this morning. “Can I help?” Van asks, though definitely still in charge here, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable the whole time. You nod - words still feeling too far away - and let her dry you off and squeeze the remaining water from your hair.

“Such a good girl for me,” she hums as she works. You don’t think you’ve done anything particularly good today, or ever really, but the praise is comforting nonetheless.

Van takes you to her room, which is clean and grown up and warm. They tell you to lay down on the bed and you don’t fight because being a baby right now doesn’t feel bad or wrong. It feels like Van dressing you in a pair of her boxers and a jumper which is way too big, and that is undoubtedly good. She climbs up onto the bed next to you once you’re dressed, wrapping her arms tightly around your body and pressing her lips to the top of your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she promises - a distant part of your kind wonders who told her what happened but it’s quiet and you don’t have the energy or words to press it now. “And even if you did - I’d still love you.”

[theworldofotps]

Daddy's Brat

Pairing: Randy Orton x Reader Word Count: 1,123 Description: You're upset that Randy decided to invite friends over instead of spending time together.

Warning: A little smut, some oral male receiving enjoy

Got this idea from Randy pulling on Paul Heyman's tie last night and just the man existing. Also realized I only have one other piece of Randy writing and its only from Christmas which is a problem in itself, so I needed to fix that. __________Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox​ @mrsacklesevansmgk​ @xladyxfatex​ @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @rebellious-desires @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter​ @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks​ @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty​ @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. ________ You knew you were in for it when Randy’s expression tightened, the two of you were entertaining friends for the day. It had been a while since the two of you had been alone since he was busy away at work most of the time. You were hoping it would just be you two for the day but that was quickly lost when he told you that your friends and his coworkers would be over in an hour after walking up. Putting on a smile after sighing you got ready and had spent most of the morning and into early afternoon talking over a large range of topics. Followed by one of Randy’s favorite lunches you had prepared especially for him.

Everything was going well until you felt that all too familiar itching desire to have Randy put you in your place. You couldn’t help it, the time apart and now him being right here but not having laid a hand on you since he got back home. Was driving you mad with want and the need to be as bratty as you possibly could. You’d had enough practice where your friends wouldn’t take notice but Randy sure would.

Like when you purposely spilled his drink down his white shirt to see the fabric cling to his body or questioned him on everything he said under your breath. The occasional snide comment here and there that got a chuckle from everyone else but a narrowing of the eyes from your boyfriend. When your guests finally left, and the door closed you watched as Randy stood staring at the closed door.

Very quietly you backed up and slowly turned to start making your way from the hall.

“Don’t move another step y/n.”

Staring at him in shock you frown, he never called you by your name unless he was referring to you while talking to someone.

“That’s not what you call me.”

You huff crossing your arms as he turned towards you, his eyes pinning you to the floor as he locked the front door.

“You think you deserve to have me call you by anything else when you were being such a brat?”

“Regardless of what I do I am always a nickname.”

Stomping a foot, you watch as he actually had the nerve to chuckle at you turning you quickly leave the living room.

��I don’t remember telling you to move.”

“Well, I don’t remember asking you.”

Randy stopped short just for a moment as he watched you, so this was the game you were playing when his schedule was clear for the rest of the day, and he planned on using it to his full advantage. You didn’t hear him following you up the stairs, only knew he was there when a hand grabbed the back of your neck. Guiding you into the bedroom Randy closed the door and released his hold on your neck spinning you to face him.

“What was with that attitude today?”

“What attitude?”

“You still choosing to be a brat?”

“Yep.”

Popping the “P” you watched him with a smirk waiting to see what he was going to do, Randy rubbed his chin and nodded slowly. A faint chuckle reaching your ears, you could feel your body run cold as he slowly started walking towards you. Randy reached out, capturing your chin in his hand and pressed you into the wall.

“Someone upset because they haven’t got the attention they’ve been wanting?”

Your silence was the only confirmation he needed; Randy leaned over pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry we’ve been so busy, and that this morning was a surprise to you. I’ve just been trying to get everything done before turning our phones off for the next two days. I didn’t forget that you need attention.”

You could feel the bratty behavior slowly slipping away and offered a small smile that was until he scooped you up over his shoulder and carried you towards the bed. Sitting Randy laid you over his lap and slapped your ass quickly a few times.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh language that pretty mouth should only be used for two things right now sucking daddy’s cock and telling him how badly you want this.”

Biting your lip to hold back the moan you gasp as his hand connects with your ass again.

“I know you want to moan baby why don’t you?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Mmm, I always love when I have to fuck the brat out of you.”

Gently pushing you off his lap Randy captured your chin again watching as your eyes widen when he starts sliding his free hand under your shirt. Feeling your soft skin as he made his way down to your shorts.

“I missed you while I was away.”

He mumbled his thumb sliding back and forth across your bottom lip before pushing it between your lips. His other hand found its way into your panties where his finger dragged along your slit that smirk that made you first fall for him crossed his features again.

“I knew you always enjoyed when daddy slapped that pretty ass and this just confirms it.”

A soft whimper left your throat as you sucked his thumb feeling one of his fingers slide into your pussy with ease. Randy inhaled through his nose as he watched you. It always made him weak in the knees to see you like this. Feeling his cock straining against his pants Randy stepped back and pulled them down, licking your wetness from his fingers while you worked to free him from his boxers. Your lips wrapping around him had Randy groaning in pleasure.

Your tongue flattened as you slowly took more of him in your mouth, your head slowly moving back and forth as your cheeks hollowed to form a suction. Randy’s fingers tangled in your hair as he started moving his hips watching as you choked a bit when he hit the back of your throat. Tears springing to your eyes as you moaned softly.

“That’s it brat let daddy use your mouth fuck so wet.”

Randy’s head fell back for a moment as he tried to collect himself before looking back down at you. The sight of you choking on his cock made it twitch in your mouth. Pulling you off he picks you up dropping you on the bed.

“We’ll finish that later but right now I need to fuck you before I lose my mind.”

He spreads your thighs pressing a kiss to each knee then slowly slides into your wet heat both of you moaning as your walls stretched to fit him. You knew that you were in for a very long night.

[stillintoeddie]

HANG UP | carlos sainz x original female character

social media/real life/messages fic

part 4/6

~~~

gabby44 hi twitter or as would max call it: hello x 🤓☝🏻

i’ve got a bit of time right now since we all happily landed in canada this morning, and i thought we could do a little q&a so ask questions below xx

user1 where do u get ur clothes from??

gabby44 mostly by thrifting, vinted, depop. i got some designer pieces but most of them were gifted to me. i don’t rly like spending too much money on clothes.

user2 have u ever had a boyfriend? i feel like you’ve never talked about this publicly

gabby44 i have. but i’d rather not talk about it since it was before my “career” and he didn’t give me permission to mention him x

user3 how long have u known max?

gabby44 since i was 10 and he was 12 :)

user4 are u talking to someone right now? romantically?

gabby44 not that i’m aware of. but i do have a crush if that’s what u mean x

user5 what’s ur favourite song at the moment?

gabby44 i can’t stop listening to say my name by destiny’s child so that’s my fav at the moment x

maxverstappen when will u give me back my hoodie my dearest, most loving, beautiful friend?

gabby44 next… question x

user6 have you ever thought of max in a romantic way

gabby44 as much as i love max and i think he’s one of the best good looking men out here i can’t think or never thought of him in a romantic way. we’ve shared so many memories with each other that shaped us into siblings that im physically unable to look at him romantically. but i love him the most in my life.

user7 do you stay in touch with any other f1 driver other than max?

gabby44 i keep in touch with most of them but day to day it’s charles, lando and carlos x

user8 if you were to kiss, marry and kill previously mentioned f1 drivers how would u put it?

gabby44 i would marry max because we already basically live and spend so much time together we started to fight like an old married couple, kill charles because if i chose it any other way alexandra would murder me and it leaves me with kissing carlos but i’m not complaining xx

user9 i’m moving to a new country next month and i’m very stressed. how have you dealt with leaving your family behind and moving abroad? i’m aware you move occasionally a lot when the races are on but i mean like in general. how to do it?

gabby44 unfortunately i do not have an exact answer. it was easy for me because my dad and i’s relationship wasn’t the best and it wasn’t hard for me to leave it. i saw it as an opportunity to start a new, better life. and i had max by my side. i recommend moving to a place where you know at least one person, then its easier. i moved out when i was freshly 18 and i met such an amazing people throughout the years. if you ever need an advice you can text me. i gave you a follow so we can chat when you need it:)

gabby44 okay you lot it’s over for today because i’ve got errands to run and my phone keeps overheating. remember don’t charge and use your phone at the same time. anyway, ill do something like that again very soon xx

~~~

gabriela put the phone down and got up of her bed. it’s a race day tomorrow and since they’re in canada she has the opportunity to go to her favourite coffee place. it is most definitely not a very popular place but the coffee there is amazing. she put on the first tracksuit she could find and put on her redbull jacket. it was a bit cold today.

‘what are we gonna listen to today?’ she asked herself as she put on shuffle on spotify.

tides thrash inside

baby, i’m high octane

forever in shock wave

my core vibrates in an opium haze

she left the hotel room, went to an elevator and walked passed the lobby. she didn’t notice a single sing that was around her.

yet you think we’re the same

the skyline falls as i try to make sense of it all

i thought i’d uncover your secrets, but turns out there’s more

when she had her headphones on, the world didn’t exist. she didn’t think about anything.

or that’s what she was used to.

you adored me before

oh, my good looking boy

she couldn’t help but think of carlos. of his eyes. of his lips. of his smile. of his hair. of his arms, hands, back, ears.

she missed him.

she’s not talked to him since the “argument” before her meeting with her father. the truth is she wasn’t mad. she was just stressed about her meeting. she always got tensed when it came to talking about her father.

she doesn’t even know why she didn’t talk to carlos in the first place. she’s not talked to anyone but max since that day. her father embarrassed her. the whole night was a disaster.

‘if you invited me just to embarrass me in front of your new wife then you could have at least pick a better place with better food so it wouldn’t go to waste fully.’ gabriela snapped at her father after he just commented on her looks.

you look pale, your hair is too long, your nails are overgrown. why haven’t you gotten married yet? choose a better career, you’re not gonna live off of being a photographer for silly drivers. why aren’t you with eric anymore?

‘i do not appreciate your tone, young lady.’ he snapped back at her as he grabbed the table. ‘i invited you because i simply thought you were done being forever mad and childish.’

‘childish? me? i am being childish?’ she stood up and looked at her father’s wife. ‘it was nice to meet you and i feel pity for you for marrying such a dick.’

everyone gasped. looks like she said it a bit too loud.

‘goodbye, father. do not contact me ever again.’ and with that, she left.

turned off her phone, got home, got dressed into a random set of pyjamas. but she didn’t do one thing. didn’t lock the door so after a few hours of being offline and not giving anyone updates on her being, she saw max in front of her door. she didn’t say a thing. she just let him in. and he stayed, as usual.

as always.

it’s always gabriela and max.

both the children of abusive fathers.

~~~

‘thank you, cheers.’ exactly 5 seconds after leaving the coffee shop she bumped into someone’s back which resulted in spilling half of coffee. ‘fuck, i’m so sorry- oh god, carlos?’

‘you’re lucky you always get your coffee iced,’ he muttered pretending to be mad but his eyes were giving him out. he couldn’t be mad, especially at gabriela. ‘i’m joking, mija. what are you doing here? are you okay? you’ve sort of vanished since we last talked?’

‘i’m…okay. the meeting with my father was hard, as usual. and listen, i’m sorry i left you hanging and was rude. i guess i was just nervous about my father and you know how he gets into my head. anyway, can i make it up to you somehow?’

‘first of all, let’s get you a new coffee and then we can go for a walk to some shop to get us new shirts,’ carlos said with a caring smile on his face. no longer than 5 minutes later carlos got back with two coffees while gabriela was waiting outside. ‘there you go, an oat iced latte with a vanilla syrup.’

‘how did you-‘

‘some things never change, no?’

~~~

‘okay so, tell me how meeting with your dad went.’ carlos said as he sat down. keeping eye contact all this time.

‘long story short as soon as i arrived at the restaurant he commented on my clothes, then said that i look fat and why did i break up with my ex. even tho we broke up 3 years ago but huh, this is how much attention he’s paying to me.’ gabriela began explaining. ‘also said that my job is “stupid, useless, won’t get me anywhere and these boys will fuck you and leave you without a job” but i actually don’t remember that i signed a contract to “be fucked” but i signed this stupid contract to do what i love.’

she was ranting and ranting and ranting and carlos was just sat there listening. she told him about everything that happened in the last year and he was so mad that he wasn’t there for the past year to help her go through that like he used to. he was aware they were just friends back then, like they are now and that she had max on her side but he just had the need to help her. to take care of her. to be next to her at all times.

‘and yeah, that’s basically what happened.’ she finished and looked at her friend. ‘i’m sorry i ranted to much but i didn’t think i needed it that much.’

‘that’s okay, cariña. i understand,’ he said and pulled her closer to him. ‘i’m here now and i’m sorry i wasn’t there earlier.’

gabriela felt safe with him, happy. heard.

‘i missed you, you know?’ she confessed quietly.

he looked at her and smiled, ‘i missed you too, mija. very much.’

~~~

lando my bfs gf and i

liked by: carlossainz55, gbrlle44, maxverstappen1, baileyphillips and 899,763 others

user1 what did i miss

user2 user1 i know this song

baileyphillips u mean my girlfriend

carlossainz55 what on the hell

gbrlle44 carlossainz55 we are on earth chilli

maxverstappen1 and what if i died right now

danielricciardo KI KI KIIIIIIIII

lando danielricciardo RHAAAAA

user4 where is her outfit from it’s so gorg

carlossainz55 i’m trying to read the caption but i don’t get it

charles_leclerc why wasn’t i invited

lando charles_leclerc it wasn’t planned look at our faces we look confused

gbrlle44 lando u always look confused xxx

~~~

dailynews SHOCKING NEWS gabriela herrera and carlos sainz recently spotted together in public again! not long after that a formula1 driver lando norris posted on his instagram account a confirmation about previously stated topic. are they going to confirm it publicly? or is gabriela going to wrap another man around her finger and say that they are just friends AGAIN and leave him just like he left her long time boyfriend max verstappen? stay tuned for more. as always, fastest and most accurate daily news.

~~~

max: have you seen the newest post this shitshow posted?

gabriela: no, should i?

max: i think you should but wait

incoming facetime call

‘what?’ gabriela said as she saw max’s face on her phone

‘show me your surroundings.’ max stated calmly but his voice low.

gabriela super confused switched her camera around to show him that she’s on her bed, only a bag of crisps in sight and potentially something that looks like a tv remote. ‘what are you needing this for?’

‘okay now, stay on facetime with me and look what i sent you.’

‘you’re so weird max-‘ she said and as she opened her laptop and looked at the screenshot the screen. ‘can’t be-‘

the second she saw it her phone fell off her hands and all max heard was a long chain of swear words, both in english, spanish and some in a language he didn’t recognise. ‘QUE CARAJO I WILL FUCKING KILL SOMEONE WHEN I FIND OUT WHO WRITES THIS SHIT.’

‘calm down babe, you know how they are.’ max stated calmly, trying to calm her down. but the second gabriela starts to speak in spanish- it’s over. ‘gabriela, breathe.’

‘i don’t understand this max, why do they hate me so much? i didn’t do anything, ever.’ she let out a quiet sob, she really didn’t understand why this was happening to her.

‘it’s okay, none of this is true anyway.’

‘yeah, not entirely…’ she said quietly as she put her face in her hands. ‘carlos and i did go on a date tho. well, i wouldn’t call this a date because it was freshly after we talked to each other after all this time of being no contact but we went out a few times after that but it was strictly friendship-wise. i think.’

‘that’s fine,’ he said. gabriela noticed a small change of his facial expression. ‘you’re a grown woman, you know what you’re doing. and i’m rooting for you.’

‘thanks max.’

‘no problem, gabs.’

~~~ author’s notes ~~~

alright people i’ve got two more parts prepared, and i think you will like it although the last part will be just ‘social media’ written! i’ve got so many ideas in my head for new fics that i will write and since i’ve got some issues with focusing i can’t write it at the same time or i will mix up the stories AND WE DONT WANT THAT DO WE xx

i also have some max ones. and messy stuff that includes both max and carlos. stay tuned x

[lemotmo]

I still hate it. I get it from a business standpoint and this makes perfect sense. But he's dad and I'm devastated.

Q. He just signed the death certificate of his own show.

A. I'm going to preface this entire reply by saying I don't think he's really dead but I'm going to answer this way too dramatic ask from a pragmatic standpoint. So for the sake of this reply he is dead. AGAIN I DO NOT REALLY THINK HE'S DEAD BUT SOME OF THESE TAKES ARE INSANELY OVER DRAMATIC SO IM GOING TO REPLY TO THIS AS IF HE IS TRULY DEAD.

Instant reaction being raw and angry is understandable and relatable but the argument that no television show has ever done anything like this and survived is a frankly absurd argument. This is not new for television. It's definitely not new for ABC. In fact if he is truly dead I believe it was an ABC decision and not a Tim decision. There is a legitimate argument to me made for the long term benefit of killing a character like this off. Lots of shows that have run as long as 911 has need a reset at some point. This is an insanely expensive show to make. It will be going into its 3rd season on a new network which means there were probably several cast members who were due for new contracts and given the show's current status on the network those new contracts most likely came with pay increases. If you're a suit in the financial position at ABC it makes sense that something would need to give. Angela and Peter are the two most expensive cast members. And if the choice was between Peter Krause and Angela Bassett you're keeping the movie star every time. That's business. We can all hate it but it is.

As for the people yelling at me that I willed his death into existence by saying he was overused, I cannot help you. There is a drastic difference in saying a character desperately needs a rest and killing the character off. If you don't understand that, I don't know what to tell you. Tommy did not serve any kind of major role in this event. Stop that now. He is a helicopter pilot. They brought him in to fly a helicopter as a distraction, which is what his character was for his entire run of this plot, hello! and to allow Buck to verbally state the EX part out loud. I do think we will get a scene between him and Eddie next week, which I still think was the real reason he was brought back in the first place. Being pissed off at him getting a reaction to the death over Eddie is legitimate, understandable rage. That was inexcusable on every level. And I'm glad even the media is pointing that out. For one the man cannot act. He is incapable of emoting and looked constipated more than anything else. It was bad all the way around. The other problem was it was legitimately not a great episode in general. The plot was absurd with even the slightest bit of critical thinking applied. But moving characters and plotlines along with the use of grief is a media staple. That is common practice so people acting like the show basically has to start over from scratch because Bobby died is ridiculous. I cried hard last night. The dialogue was moving and did its job but the plot overall was absurd and does not feel real in any way. In conclusion I don't think it's real BUT if it is there are legitimate arguments to me made for doing it. We don't have to like it but that doesn't make them less true. I do think hell be alive and back by the season finale though. 🩷🩷

Thank you Nonny!

All right, this is the last ask I'm answering tonight. I'm tired and I need a break. 🥱

I thought this one was fitting to end on for today. 😋

I still hate how they went about this and I'm also still very much in camp 'HE ISN'T DEAD', but yeah... if he is we will have to deal with it in some way.🤷‍♀️ It'll hurt, but I'll get passed it because I still love this show too much to give up on it. ❤️

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