#sorry for not posting anything original for a while

[ollyissleepy]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥

pairings: platonic yandere!batfam x uninterested!male!reader summary: After being caught red handed stealing, (name) finds himself in the Wayne Manor, surrounded by his new family. (Name)'s disinterested in bonding is met with equally not caring siblings and father. As he spends his days alone, (name) realises his new family might care much more than he originally thought the did. cw: stealing, swearing, underage smoking, reader commits a crime, kidnapping, stalking, a/n: So sorry for the delay my classes ended and I got a little lazy. fun fact! the names of the animalns mentioned (and their little perks/personality) are the same as my grandma's just translated ;) based on this idea I had

m.list • part: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

It had been a week since Clark insisted that the teenager move into the house. He still didn't get used to living there; the idea of being constantly surrounded by any family, even as nice one as the Kents, made him feel uneasy.

(Name)'s new room was much different from the ones he used to have. It was bigger than the one in his first home and had much more furniture in better condition. It might not be bigger than the one in the manor, but thanks to the warm sun that kept creeping from the early mornings up until deep into the afternoon, the room in the farm felt bigger. Better. It was located next to Conner's and right across from Jon.

The young boy made it a habit of waking up at the same time as (name) so he can accompany him to the coop and feed the chickens. It was the same this morning, almost as if Jon was waiting for the teenager to open his door to leave his room.

"Hi, (name)!" Jon greeted him. "We should get going; you know how grumpy Gretty gets when she's hungry."

"Morning, Jon. You're right; I'd hate to keep her waiting," (name) joked, walking down the stairs alongside him.

Down in the kitchen they greet Lois, who's already preparing vegetables for breakfast. The woman asks the two of them to collect a few eggs for breakfast after they're done with feeding the hens.

Feeding the chickens, (name) carried Thing Two on his left arm, as it was the only way to stop the other chickens from bullying her. Once the rest of the chickens were all nicely eating, the teenager put the chicken from his shoulder down on the ground, and Jon extended his palm towards her with grains on it. (name) stood tall, watching and making sure everyone was fed.

With everyone happy and fed, Jon and (name) gathered the eggs per Lois' request. Jon carried the basket while (name) walked around looking for them. After finding what the teenager assumed was most of them, he and Jon returned to the house. 

Once the boy is done with his breakfast, he leaves the house to take care of his chores for the day. (Name) greets the animals in the barn, petting a few cows along the way. He gave food to the goats, dodging Mint's attempts at ramming him. With the goats eating, the teenager could easily lead the cows to a pasture, letting them enjoy the nice weather.

Back in the barn, (name) milked the goats so they could roam around as well. He started with Mint, securely tying her to a post so she couldn't bite him. After her, milking the rest was a piece of cake. The teenager let them out to roam between the chickens. (Name) watched the goats trying to climb random things with a smile.

With the animals gone, the teenager could add more bedding to the areas that seemed to need them. Finally done with his morning chores, (name) could return to the house to see if there was anything else he could help with. On the porch he's met with Krypto, excitedly wagging his tail at the sight of the teenager. The boy couldn't help but stop by the dog for a bit, giving him a few much-deserved pets. 

Back in the house, (name) washes his hands in the sink when Lois walks into the kitchen.

"(Name)! Are you done with your chores?" Lois asked, catching the boy's attention. (Name) nods, his focus back on scrubbing his hands. "Great. I could use some help with cooking; are you interested?"

The teenager agreed, drying his hands. He watches as Lois takes out a few vegetables. (Name) cuts them for her, while the woman prepares other ingredients. Halfway through a carrot, (name) zones out. He can't help but think about his mother and how she would let him help with cooking, starting with smaller tasks when he was younger and moving to harder ones as he got older. The teenager noticed his hands shaking slightly.

To make himself stop thinking about his mother, he focuses on the sounds the pots made as Lois was using them. The noise reminded him about the early breakfast with Alfred he ate in the manor. (Name) could only hope the family treats the old man well and doesn't blame him for the boy's escape. 

Late that night, as (name) retired to his room after a shower, Conner barged into his room. Just like the teenager, he was also dressed in his pyjamas. He told (name) how pretty the stars looked that night and asked if the teenager wanted to go and see.

The two boys found a nice patch of grass outside to sit on. The grass was slightly wet to the touch, but neither of them cared about it. They were too focused on the stars above them. Conner and (name) watched the little spots in the sky without exchanging a word with each other; the only thing breaking the silence was the sound of crickets around them.

"I know you don't like talking about your family…" Conner spoke up, glancing at the teenager next to him. "But sometimes you get that look in your eyes when Mom does something nice. Or how slightly uncomfortable you get when Dad helps you with something. I just… wonder why."

(Name) sighed, his eyes still focused on the stars. He tries to gather his thoughts, unsure what to say to the boy next to him.

"My mom died when I was ten. I didn't know my father at the time, so I was all alone. Being around Lois made me remember how it feels to have a mom, is all…" (name) started speaking, his head tilted up with his sight still focused on the stars. "Then I got caught stealing, and they… found my father. At first he and his family pretended that I didn't exist, and I was fine with that. It wasn't like I wanted to be there. At some point I got into a huge argument with my father when he hit me, and, well, I ran away."

(Name) felt bad skipping over a few details, but he didn't want Conner to think less of him. Maybe there will be a time when he can tell the teenager the whole truth.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Conner mumbled, placing his hand on top of (name)'s. "I shouldn't have asked." He squeezes the boy's hand slightly.

"It's fine. I live with you; the least I can do is tell you how I got here." (Name) glanced at Conner and then at the hand he was holding.

The two boys stayed silent for the rest of their time outside. 

Conner didn't pick up the subject of (name)'s family again. For the most part, he acted the same way as before knowing about it. However, he started to include the teenager more in the family activities, the ones (name) used to sit out in his room.

One of those family activities was cooking dinner together. Every Sunday the Kents all gathered in the kitchen to make a meal together for them to eat. Beforehand, (name) used to lie about being tired to avoid joining and would go to bed without a meal. This time, Conner had made sure the teenager would join them.

(Name) was nervous about joining them at first, worried about intruding on their family tradition by being there. His worries, however, quickly melted away after seeing how excited Jon was to finally have him in the kitchen with them.

The Kents made it easy to be around them. All of them respected (name)'s space and always allowed him to do things in his own time. Because of them, every time the teenagers chose to spend time with them, especially with Clark and Lois, they were really happy.

With all the cooks in the kitchen, the meal was ready in no time, and before (name) knew it, he was sitting down at a table next to Jon. Everyone was eating their plate in silence, occasionally breaking it to mention how much they enjoyed the food.

"I was thinking about going to visit Tim." Conner spoke up, placing another piece of vegetable in his mouth. "You want to come?" He offered, looking at (name).

The teenager stopped his fork halfway through the mouth, staring at Conner with wide eyes. With all the fun he had with them, (name) had forgotten that Conner is friends with Wayne.

"Rather not; I'm not the best with rich folks," (name) mumbled, the fork finally making it to his mouth. "Besides, I can't just drop my chores. I did come here to work, after all," he reminded.

"If you say so," Conner shrugged. "But the offer still stands."

(Name) smiled awkwardly but didn't reply.

Conner left the next morning, right after breakfast. Luckily, (name) didn't see after the meal, so the teenager couldn't offer to take him along. 

With Superman's older son gone, (name) found himself spending more time with Jon. The younger boy happily took him along with Krypto on some adventures around the areas where the farm was located. Even going as far as dragging him along on a trip with Clark to Metropolis.

Conner came back late into the evening, long after (name) had retired back to his room to rest. The teenager hears him shuffle around the room. (Name) tries not to think about Conner's trip to the Waynes too much, not wanting to stress over things he's not fully sure of. 'He probably just hung out with Tim and did… normal teenager stuff,' he tried to reason with himself.

He doesn't see the teenager until the next morning, but the moment he does, (name) knows something has happened in Wayne Manor. He couldn't force himself to eat breakfast that morning, the dread he felt making him sick.

Did the family find out where he was? Did Conner say something that helped them with that? Did they track him down? No, there's no way. He got rid of his phone; it should've been enough. And there's no way Conner would say anything to help them, right? Certainly not after what (name) had told him about the teenager's family. 

(Name) had spent his morning chores worrying about the changes in the way Connor's been acting. He was so caught up in his mind that he forgot to tie Mint before trying to milk her, resulting in the goat biting him hard.

The teenager stares at the bitten part of his arm, watching the blood seep out of it. (Name) swears quietly, grabbing a random piece of cloth to wrap around the wound. He could worry about cleaning the wound later. For now he needs to finish all the morning chores; only then (name) can dress the wound and worry about how to approach Conner.

It's not like Conner possibly knowing about him being a Wayne would mean anything. It's not like the whole family knows.

They all know.

(Name) is sure of it. It's as if something changed in them since last night. The teenager noticed it in a nervous smile on their faces. Lois sent his way after he came into the living room, and the way Clark looked like he was holding something back when helping (name) clean and bandage his wound. 

By the time dinner rolls around, (name) knows he can't stay with the Kents for much longer. As much as it pained him to leave the family, deep down he knew there was no other choice.

(Name) needed a plan. A proper one. A 'sneaking off and leaving without three humans with super abilities' kind of plan. For now, the teenager will try to act the same way as before, trying to not seem too suspicious. During the nights, he'll plan a way to leave. He just needs a few days, maybe a week, to think about it.

'It can't be that hard,' he thought.

The family tried to act normal as well, but something about their movements around (name) seemed stiff and a bit forced. As if the new information Conner learnt from the Waynes made them unsure how to act around the teenager.

The only person whose way of acting around (name) didn't change much was Jon. At first it was similar to the rest of the Kents, but after a while he seemed to return to normal.

If (name) were to ignore the awkwardness of the rest of the family members, his days would return to normal. Jon started to help him out with the chickens again, happily talking away about the dream he had or the stuff he saw the day before that somehow he had yet to mention to the teenager. 

As much as the days started to feel normal again, the nights were a different story. (Name) spends the first hour each night planning a possible escape route. However, after that, even after a hard day of work and another one ahead of him, the teenager couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard he tried.

It wasn't always about the anxiety (name) felt regarding his current situation, but about something else. Something much more disturbing.

The teenager started to feel as if someone was watching him. Their eyes only being more noticeable during the nights when (name) could just brush it off and focus on the tasks he had to complete.

(Name) would glance towards the window, trying to see if somebody is standing there. Most of the time he only saw darkness outside, a part of him horrified at what or who could hide in the shadows.

There was one time when (name) swore he saw someone standing outside the window. The person behind the glass, however, quickly retreated into the darkness the moment they noticed him staring. He tried to bring it up to both Clark and Conner on separate occasions, hoping one of them would believe him and help. Unfortunately, both of them brushed (name)'s concerns aside, saying how he must've imagined it and suggested resting a while. 

It was the morning after another night of bad resting when (name) walked down to the kitchen to find most of the family in a good mood. He almost let out a sigh of relief when he noticed Jon. The boy didn't dare to look him in the eyes. On top of that, he seemed almost sad. It filled the teenager with worry. Why is everyone so happy to see, except for one person who kept acting happy regardless of the Wayne family roaming above (name)'s head?

(Name) didn't have to wait for too long to find out what was happening. Clark announced the good news over breakfast.

"We're going to have visitors today, (name)," he said, smiling at the teenager. "Make sure to complete your morning chores before they arrive."

(Name) nodded. Visitors? Who might it be, and why is Jon not happy for them to arrive? 

The teenager had just returned from letting out the cows onto the pasture when he spotted a black car in the driveway. At first, (name) didn't recognise it, so he started to walk up to it. The closer he got to the car, the more familiar it seemed. And then it hit him.

It's the same car Bruce drove when he first brought him to the manor.

Without thinking, (name) bolts away from the car. He's running without looking back, trying to get as far away from the car as possible. He knows someone saw him; he hears the footsteps of somebody running behind him. The teenager speeds up, trying to lose whoever was behind him.

Once the footsteps got quieter, (name) slowed down just a bit to save some energy. What he isn't aware of is that Superboy is also following right behind him. The teenager barely manages to stop right in front of Conner when he lands right in front of him. 

"Stop running, (name), we're just trying to help." Conner put his hands on top of his shoulders.

"Help?!" (Name) shouted, ripping himself away from Conner's grip. "I told you what they did, and you still brought them here?!"

"(Name)—" Conner tried to speak.

"They tried to strip me of everything I was, just so they could play family, Conner! I don't give a fuck about the bullshit they had told you. They're insane!" (Name) kept yelling, not allowing Superboy to speak. "You know what?! Fuck you. I thought you of all people understood me—"

"(Name)! Finally!" Dick shouted from behind him, making the teenager stop mid-sentence.

(Name) tried to leave, but Conner helped him down. The teenager tried to move, but Superboy was much stronger than him, keeping him in one place.

"Thank you, Conner," Bruce spoke up, stepping closer to his son. "We'll take it from here."

Conner loosened his grip on the teenager so Bruce and Dick could grab him. (Name) tried to run again, but to no avail, as both of the men were holding him tightly. 

The two men tried to move, but (name) went stiff, his shoes seemingly glued to the ground below him. It left Bruce and Dick with no choice but to drag the teenager behind them, (name)'s shoes leaving marks in the ground as they did so.

It left Conner to walk behind them, watching someone that had deeply trusted him, looking up at him with betrayal in his eyes. The guilt was swallowing his stomach watching (name) not only being dragged away in such a manner but also seeing the teenager so hurt. Just that morning, he honestly thought that he was doing something nice for (name), letting him reunite with his family. Because of all the lies he heard from the Waynes, he had completely forgotten what little information the teenager in front of him had shared.

(Name) is thrown into the backseat of the car, with Dick sitting right next to him. The Kents watch as the teenager desperately tries to open the door to leave. Both Clark and Lois looked away, reminding themselves that it was for his own good. Jon was watching the teenager with sad eyes, wondering if there was anything he could do.

"Thank you for watching my boy, Clark." Bruce shook the man's hand. "I'll keep a close eye on him; make sure it won't happen again."

m.list • part: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

taglist: @amber-content @bellethesleepypotato @leeiasure @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @tenthmilo @eyeless-kun @holyfishbailiffpeanut @cuntiesweet @jsprien213 @marsmabe @cssammyyarts @ilovecoffe0 @phoenixgurl030 @esposadomd @alittlelostmoonchild @stargirl404 @xnutz0 @s4raahi @reeyy0-2@ironsaladwitch @chemicalwindexbottle@ityourguy @im-so-goddamn-tired@dirtydiavolo@etern1tyxxx@whognuthis @verypersonadazzel@staarflowerr @hai-there-how-are-you @depressed--therapist @flightless-magpie

[holdinsteddie]

prompt: scarf

(for @miss-bushido , originally posted on bsky here)

[cw: omegaverse]

Okay, so.

The thing is— well. Eddie doesn’t really know what the thing is, is the thing.

Let’s backtrack: Eddie is an omega. Not a very typical one, mind you, but he is one and actually likes being one, despite what others might think.

He loves nesting and scenting his friends and making people feel welcomed and loved. Yes, he can have a prickly exterior and has been known to growl or hiss should the situation call for it (and sometimes when it doesn’t), but the fact of the matter is he’s actually very soft and squishy. A melty-ball of tender omega goop wrapped up in a spikey metal-head exterior. He can be multidimensional, okay?

Anyway. Back to backtracking:

Eddie is an omega.

Steve Harrington is also an omega, much to the surprise of basically all of Hawkins when he’d first presented.

Eddie had been surprised too, until he actually got to know Steve after going through Literal Hell™️ together.

What better pack bonding than defeating an evil inter-dimensional wizard that looks like the human(?) embodiment of an STD, right?

Eddie learned that while he loved being an omega and that it fit him in a way that worked for him, Steve seemed born to be an omega.

Yeah, he could be bitchy, but he loved and cared for the pack’s pups with all the love of the force of 500 moms, give or take. He was like, the epitome of Omega Mom. Always making sure that everyone was properly scented and well fed and had unlimited access to the pack nest he’d set up in his house. And during the winter, he was wrapping everyone up in scent-thick winter gear.

The pups (re: Mike) had complained exactly one (1) time about it. Steve hadn’t said anything, but had looked so sad that Robin had growled in the way that only pissed-off alphas can and had scared the shit out of everyone present. (Eddie included).

Anyway, sorry, keep getting distracted. All of this to say: Eddie is confused.

Because Eddie is an omega, and Steve is an omega, and if it were anyone else, Eddie would think that he maybe possibly might be… being… courted?

Because, that— that’s what it’s starting to feel like.

It had started a few weeks ago, when Steve had wrapped a scarf around his neck before sending him off to play with the pups in the snow. It was thick and warm, a deep black color with delicate silver accents only visible when you look closely. It was beautiful and had smelled so strongly of Steve’s woodsmoke-and-basil scent that he had kept his nose buried in it the entire time he’d worn it.

And if he’d sighed despondently when he’d hung it back up in Steve’s coat closet, that was between him and God.

(And maybe Max. She’d given him a knowing smirk that had drastically increased his blood pressure.)

Which is why he was surprised when, a few days later, he’d finished up his shift at the shop and walked out to his van only to find that same scarf wrapped around the driver’s side mirror.

He’d stared at it for a moment before slowly approaching and carefully unwrapping it.

And because he was a weak, weak man, he’d immediately brought it up to his nose and inhaled deeply. God, he loved Steve’s scent so much — it made him think of dinners cooked over a fire, hearty and warm and home.

Eddie hadn’t thought about it much at the time, and had brushed the sudden re-appearance of the scarf as Steve being extra thoughtful and doing rounds on the pack.

Eddie had worn it home (and maybe had snuggled it a bit, shut up Wayne) and then the next day he’d made sure to drop it back off at Steve’s.

But then it had reappeared the next day, this time at the coffee shop waiting for him at his usual spot.

And it kept reappearing, anywhere and everywhere, no matter how many times he returned it to Steve’s.

Which is how we get to now, with Steve standing in Eddie’s room, just outside his nest with an angry pout on his face and his hands on his hips, and Eddie having no idea what the fuck is going on.

“Why won’t you accept my courting gift?”

Eddie understands each of the words Steve said individually, but he can’t for the life of him comprehend what Steve is actually saying to him. “…What?”

Steve huffs before holding out the scarf he’d apparently been holding the whole time.

The familiar black wool with the silver thread causes Eddie’s heart to skip a beat or three, and all Eddie can do is stare at it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a part of him is screaming courting gift?? cOURTING GIFT??!! on repeat.

“What.” He gives himself a mental pat on the back for actually being able to get a single coherent word out.

The hands holding the scarf drop a little. “Look, I just—“ Steve starts, and Eddie tears his gaze from the scarf to Steve’s face.

He’s shocked to see that Steve looks… nervous, but not in a good way. “Is it— Do you— Do you not like the gift? Because I can get you something different. I’d already started making this before I’d thought to ask Robbie what I should get you but she said you’d lo— you’d like it and I thought— I just—“

Steve takes a deep breath and Eddie thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe entirely. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Steve keeps his eyes closed as he quietly continues, “I just need to know if you’re, if you’re rejecting the gift or if you’re rejecting me.”

A wounded noise punches itself out of Eddie, and before he can think, he’s tackling Steve into his nest.

Steve goes down with an oof but otherwise doesn’t resist as Eddie begins to shuffle him and his nest around until Steve is at the center, surround by all the softest and most comfortable parts of Eddie’s nest.

“Eddie?”

“Steve.” Eddie cradles Steve’s face between his palms and looks down into beautiful, confused hazel eyes. “Stevie, baby, honey, I am so, so fucking stupid.”

“Hey,” Steve retorts, brows furrowed, and Eddie wants to consume him whole.

“No, shut up. I’ve been stupid, Stevie, so stupid. You wanna know how stupid?” Steve opens his mouth but Eddie doesn’t let him answer. “I had no idea you were trying to court me.”

The way Steve freezes underneath him would be comical if Eddie didn’t feel like he was about to vibrate out of existence.

Steve blinks at him. Eddie blinks back.

“…you really didn’t know?” Steve looks so genuinely perplexed that Eddie can’t help the hysterical laugh that barks out of him.

“Didn’t have a fuckin’ clue, sweetheart.”

Steve blinks again, and his face smooths out. “Oh.” Then Steve looks up at Eddie through his lashes and Eddie wants to launch himself into the sun. “So, if I tried to give you the gift now…”

Between one blink and the next, Eddie grabs the scarf and wraps it around his neck way too many times. “Steven Harrington I am never taking this off ever again.”

Forget launching himself into the sun, all he needs to do is look at the way joy blooms in Steve’s expression to feel like he’s on fire. “Yeah?” Steve breathes.

Eddie nods vigorously, and because he feels so happy he could float, he flops over on top of Steve and attaches himself like an octopus.

“You’d better court the hell out of me, Harrington, ‘cause I’m gonna court your ass off.”

Steve laughs, and Eddie can’t wait to never get tired of the sound.

send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!

[wonyology]

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

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 외 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  ㅋㅋㅋ

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!!

[thedevilsrevengeau]

“Long time no see, ya filthy landlubbers.”

Hey, gang! Turns out this blog is a year old... and one year since I've posted ANYTHING for it. Wow, uh... yikes, that's my bad everyone. Sorry if you've been waiting! Thankfully, I'm back on the grind for a little while longer before my last year in college, so I hope to pick this au back up a little more.

I found these old sketches I've whipped up FOREVER ago of the captain and his 'little crow pal', and figured well, while you're waiting, I should share these with you! I think the third one with 'em both is the most up to date form I've got for them, but that'll be refined in the near future.

ANYWAYS, if you've got any questions you'd like to ask the captain, fire away! I'll try my best to look at my ask box here more often, but I'm also participating in art fight this year + some other things, so I still might be slower than I'd like. Sorry about that, it's just the name of the game!

Okay, I'll quit rambling now. Enjoy the sketches! And of course...

Be careful who you trust, out there in the sea.

~

(Original blog: @unholy-screeching9)

[musings-of-a-rose]

Meet the Millers - Chapter 15

Pairing: Joel Miller x Benny Miller x Will Miller x Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 8000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I’m sorry this took so long to get to. I’ll make it up by word count and an additional chapter!  Well folks, it's finally here! I originally ended this series back in April 2022, nearly a year before TLOU season 1 debuted. I thought it was over, but not only did I have a few scenes I wanted to write but wouldn't fit, SO MANY PEOPLE asked me for more. No one more than @theewokingdead so I dedicate this last half of the series to her!

Posted in 2022: This is set loosely in The Last of Us universe. I’ve only played a bit of the game and watched others play (and the show isn’t out yet), so please forgive any inaccuracies. Also it’s a post-apocalyptic world so I’m taking a bunch of liberties here. Because fan fiction.

Ages at the time of this story (so you don’t have to do math):

Reader: 29

Benny: 36

Will: 39

Joel: 51

Main Masterlist

Meet the Millers Masterlist

<<Chapter 14<<

“They were definitely here,” Will kneels down, sliding one of Ellie’s comics out from under a makeshift bed on the floor in a basement. We had ridden more than several miles out, following their trail, which led us here. We had ditched the horses once we realized we were tracking other people as well. Horses are really obvious and may be a magnet for anyone who is starving through winter. Will hands me the comic and I gently run my hand along the front, a memory of Ellie overacting a scene from it flashing before me. I swing my backpack around and carefully stick it inside, resituating the pack. 

We head back out and into the house next to this one. Benny counts on his fingers, giving us the countdown before he opens the door. The door opens and we move as one unit, a quiet gasp leaving my lips as we all take in the mess in the living room. 2 dead bodies, each brutally tortured and eventually killed, left behind to rot. Benny moves into the room, pushing each body over with his boot to look at their faces. Neither one of them familiar. I let out a breath of relief at that. We clear the rest of the house and meet in the kitchen.

“Think that was Joel?” I ask, gesturing towards the living room.

Will nods. “Looks like his handiwork.”

My mind wanders back to a conversation that Joel and I had, about his previous life. The one  after outbreak day. Where he tortured and stole and lot of other horrible things that he very much regrets. A small lump in my throat forms and I swallow it down, thinking of what that must have cost him to do that. But I also know that it would be no hesitation on his part to do that to anyone who hurt any one of us or took-

“Someone has Ellie,” I blurt out over their conversation.

Benny’s eyebrows pinch together. “What? Why do you think that?”

“Why else would Joel torture people like that? He’s not sadistic. And if it was for supplies, he’d have just taken them. Or…or maybe killed them. But torture? He was after information. And the only reason he wouldn’t have waited for us to catch up is if-”

“Someone took Ellie,” Benny finishes, his eyes hardening as he clenches his jaw. “So…how do we find these fuckers?”

Will takes out his map and starts to study it while I motion for Benny to follow me. I head back into the living room and we each start to pad down the bodies. Finding nothing of importance, we head back into the kitchen, Will hunched over the map he spread on the kitchen table. He glances up at us. “Anything?”

I shake my head. “No. Not even a weapon. Joel must have taken them. You?” I walk up and place my hand on his back, looking down at the map. 

He points to a few places on it. “There are some neighborhoods around here, like this one. And this resort up the road a few miles. It’s a lot of houses.”

Benny shifts his rifle up higher on his shoulder. “Let’s look outside. See if we can find anything. Joel is good about covering his tracks but maybe he left us some clues.” We all file out after Benny, Will stuffing his now folded up map back in his inside jacket pocket. It doesn’t take us long to find some tracks, but they also look like an injured person walking. 

“He’s hurt,” I say, pressing my gloved hand into the bootprint in the snow. “I’m not sure if it’s a leg injury, but he’s limping pretty good.” I swallow down that familiar lump. “It looks like just him. No tracks for Ellie.”

“Fuck,” Benny whispers. “Let’s go get these assholes.”

Despite being injured and in a rush, Joel does a pretty damn good job of covering his tracks, the thick snow giving him extra cover. We track him for a few miles, Will referring to the map and deducing that we were heading towards the resort. But then his tracks veer off, heading down a road when the resort was up it. 

“Do you smell that?” Benny asks and we all sniff. Smoke. We all start looking around for any sign of a blaze. The trees are tall, making visibility difficult, even in snow. We continue following his tracks, rounding a corner before we see the smoke billowing out from a small building, probably a former restaurant of some kind. We draw our guns, picking up the pace towards the burning building. 2 figures come from around the back of the building, stumbling in the snow. We all freeze and I jam the scope to my eye, aiming towards the moving people. 

“Joel! Ellie!” I nearly yell but remember myself and whisper it to the boys instead, pretty much running towards them. They see us and turn towards us, both of them leaning on the other. Ellie crashes into Benny and I lunge at Joel, throwing my arms around him and immediately jumping back when he cries out in pain. 

“What happened? Where are you hurt?” I start pawing at his clothes. Joel gently takes my hand and guides it over his clothes to his abdomen. 

“Here. Roughly stitched. Got infected but Ellie got me antibiotics.”

“I need to look at that wound asap. Are you ok to walk?”

He nods. “Yeah. We need to get away from here. Where are the horses?”

Will chimes in. “Had to send them off once we knew we were tracking people other than you two.”

“Damn. Would’ve been nice.”

I move to Ellie who leans into me, a quiet sob wracking her body. “Hey, sshhh it’s ok. Joel got you. We’re all here now. Ellie, I need you to tell me. Are you injured?” 

She shakes her head and speaks into my shoulder. “Just a little. Nothing major.”

“You can walk?” She nods. I look at them all. “We have to move.”

—----

Somehow, we manage to get a few miles from the blaze without any issue, a small gas station our salvation. Once cleared, I guide Joel and Ellie into the back office, motioning for Joel to sit in the office chair and Ellie on the desk. She insists she’s fine, but I know that look. She does have some minor abrasions on her hands, some small bruises and cuts. The blood on her was not hers and I hope the fucker it belongs to died slowly and horribly. She’s quiet. Too quiet. As I wipe the last of the blood from her face, I cup her cheeks, getting her to look up at me. 

“You’re ok. But some wounds can’t be seen with your eyes.” I lean in and hug her tight, whispering in her ear. “Please come talk to me when you’re ready.” She nods against my shoulder and pushes away, hopping down off the desk and heads into the main store to help Benny and Will. I look down at Joel. He looks exhausted, his face a little more pale than it should be. 

“Take off your shirt, Mr. Miller.”

“I am a married man, miss,” He chuckles, sucking in a breath at the pain. He pulls up the edge of his jacket and shirt, exposing the wound that he had tried his best to cover. There’s dried blood around it, a little fresh bleeding from his exertion, but I can see the infection leaving his body.

I kneel to get a better look, lifting the makeshift bandage from his stomach. He hisses, but doesn’t move. “This wound is the only thing keeping me from bending you over this table,” Joel says just loud enough for me to hear. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, cowboy.”

“Just wait until I’m healed.”

—----

We wait in that gas station for a few weeks, letting Joel heal fully. His wound had been infected, but, thanks to Ellie’s intervention, the antibiotics had gotten to work right away, saving his life. Benny and Will kept Ellie busy, helping her to practice shooting, taking her hunting in the nearby woods to catch rabbits or a stray deer. She’s quieter though. Reserved. She told me nothing had actually happened but that something had almost happened before she killed the man. Good riddance to the man, but that does leave a mark on someone. 

The day before we leave, Benny and Will take Ellie into the woods to inspect their traps and Joel makes good on his promise, pushing himself inside of me as I moan his name, his body pressed over mine, pinning me to the desk. It’s not long before I let go and he follows, the sounds of our moans filling the small office space.

—----

“Ok but wasn’t that giraffe cool as fuck?” Ellie smiles as she gestures back towards the dilapidated building where we had found an actual, living giraffe, living its best life. For some reason, the infection never spread to animals, which I’m grateful for. They seem to be fairing well for themselves. Better than most humans anyway. 

But more than that, I’m grateful for the smile they put on Ellie’s face, her first true, whole face smile in weeks. Months? I lost track of time, worried about Joel and then worried about Ellie. The snows had melted, giving way to a beautiful spring. The air is still cool, but it doesn’t feel like snow will make a comeback. Spring is here to stay for a bit. 

Ellie walks alongside Joel, the two of them sharing an old can of Chef Boyardee Joel had found in a busted up RV. My heart swells watching them. Their relationship has definitely deepend since the events at UEC. They’re closer, Joel looks at her like I imagine he looked at Sarah, and my heart breaks thinking about the teenage daughter I never met. 

We’re getting closer to one of the hospitals in Salt Lake, hoping that the first one we picked on the map was the one where the Fireflies were. Still are. If they weren’t chased out or worse. We take a quick break, Ellie and Joel sitting on a crumbling cement barrier, sharing the last of the can of beef-a-roni. I start to walk over to join them when I hear Joel telling her about the scar on the side of his head and how he lost his hearing. Immediately, I turn back to Benny and Will, sandwiching myself between them. I know this story, and if Joel is telling it to Ellie…well I definitely don’t want to ruin that moment. 

Benny nudges my shoulder with his. “You want some jerky?”

I blink, pulling myself back to the present and look at him. “Sure.”

He holds the open bag of jerky in his lap, between his legs, in a very suggestive spot and smirks, his eyebrows waggling. “All yours, sweetheart.”

I punch his shoulder, chuckling along with him, but still reach over and grab some jerky, making sure to lightly touch him as I drag my hand from the bag. I don’t miss the way a light flush blooms across his cheeks. Will puffs air from his mouth next to us. “Can’t take you guys anywhere.”

I turn to him, leaving Benny squirming in his seat. “What ever are you talking about? I was simply getting some food.” I lean in towards him, getting close to his face. “Why, do you have snacks in your pants I could get, Will?”

His ears heat up and he smirks. “Darlin’, you’re welcome to anything in my pants.”

Before I can reply, Joel clears his throat. “If y’all are done eye fuckin’ each other, let’s get moving.”

Ellie chuckles as we all stand up, gathering our things, and hoisting our packs on. We fall into a sort of grouping, picking our way across the rubbled streets of Salt Lake City, a once bustling hub of activity, now reduced to crumbling buildings and, apparently, wild giraffes. 

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Joel asks, looking at Ellie as we walk. She looks at him, eyebrows raised. “Shitty puns.”

Her face lights up, a smile spreading across it. “Say no more!” She slides her bag from around her back, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out her worn joke book. She flips through a few pages before she settles on one.

“People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow.” 

Joel gives her an overly dramatic, disgusted look and tsks. 

“Too soon?” Ellie asks, fighting back a smirk.

“No,” Joel replies. “It’s topical.” 

Ellie chuckles, her eyes landing back on the book. “Oh I love this one! Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Why?” She pauses, waiting to see if anyone would reply. “Cause they’re METEOR!”

We all laugh, Joel making a pained face. “That’s terrible.”

“Fuck you! That was actually good!” Ellie replies, hitting him in the shoulder with her book.

“That’s a zero outta ten.”

Ellie sighs. “Alright….ok, what did the green grape say to the purple grape?” Another pause. “Breathe, you idiot.” She watches Joel’s face expectantly, holding back her own excitement. Meanwhile, Joel is fighting for his life, trying not to smile, a small smirk breaking through his gruff attitude while Benny howls with laughter. 

“That was a three outta ten.”

“What?” Ellie and Benny respond at the same time. “That was a seven, minimum!” Ellie continues.

Joel thinks. “I’ll give it a five.”

“Five??”

“Five outta ten.”

“Fuck you, five. That was a-”

The clear metallic sound of something hitting the ground behind us, rolling across the rock spattered cement brings our laughing to a screeching halt. We all turn and look down just in time for the thing to ignite, Joel leaping to cover Ellie and Benny over me. We all hit the ground, ears ringing like mad, smoke everywhere. I can’t focus, the ringing too loud. Too disorienting. I can hear Joel calling out for Ellie, can feel the weight of Benny on my back. But then suddenly he isn’t. Before I can look, something strikes the back of my head and everything goes blank.

—----

The sound of muffled yelling is what brings me back to reality. My vision is blurry at first, the room I’m in coming into focus the longer I blink. The voices get clearer too and I realize there’s a voice that’s not a Miller. Or Ellie. I shake my head a little and the voices click into place as I blink the last of the blurriness from my eyes.

“You take me to her. You take me to her RIGHT NOW!” Joel demands from a cot on the other side of the small exam room from me. 

A sigh. “Joel, you know it has to be this way. Do you think I want Ellie to die?” That voice. I know that voice. I hadn’t heard it since I left the Fireflies. Marlene.

Wait did she say Ellie had to die?

I sit up, a little too fast and the room starts to spin as her and Joel continue to argue, saying something about them needing to operate on Ellie’s brain to get the infection out to make a cure. Which..honestly doesn’t entirely make sense. Even with my head spinning I know it doesn’t make sense. There’s no guarantee that a cure would work from that and then you’ve killed your only immune person? I press my hand to my head as Marlene walks from the room, telling the other Firefly soldiers to walk us to the highway to meet our companions, presumably Benny and Will, and only then give us our packs and a knife. I hear them grab Joel and move him to the door, gruff hands yanking me up from the bed and my feet slide a little on the tile floor.

“Hey! Don’t touch her!” Joel gruffly commands, his hand reaching for mine. His fingers barely brush mine before the soldier prods him in the back with the barrel of his rifle. “None of that. Keep moving.”

Joel looks at me and I nod, my head finally clearing at the severity of this situation. They push him forward towards a stairwell, Joel pausing for a brief moment to look at a floor map on the wall. As we’re shoved into the stairwell, I watch Joel’s broad back, the changes in it as he makes up his mind. I know what he’s going to do from the moment he looked at that map. We go down a couple of flights of stairs before he pauses, mid way down the next grouping of them.

“Hey! Who told you to stop?” The soldier behind Joel places his hand on his shoulder to push him forward and Joel makes his move. He grips the soldiers wrist and spins, knocking him out with a couple of well placed punches, quickly grabbing his gun. While he moves, so do I, throwing my head back and ramming it into the man behind me, catching him off guard. I duck as Joel rams the butt end of the rifle into the man’s head, knocking him out. As the men moan on the floor, Joel looks at me. His eyes are dark, his intention set. No one will stand in his way to get to Ellie. I nod at him, bending down to pick up the second gun. 

“I’ll follow your lead,” I quietly say to him, checking the mag and loading a round into the chamber. He studies me for one quick moment, then nods his confirmation.

“Stay behind me.”

“Understood.”

We move through the hospital in a violent dance. I barely do anything except watch his back. Joel moves with a sole purpose, taking out everyone who poses a threat, even a few people who put down their guns, who most likely would’ve taken them back up when we passed them. The way he moves with precision is beautiful, his muscles shifting with every move, the veins in his arms bulging as he reloads a newly acquired rifle, stepping over the body of a soldier he’d just taken out. It’s horrifyingly beautiful and I can see why Joel has the reputation that he does.

Finally, we arrive in pediatric surgery, the lights glaring out from one of the operating rooms. Joel pulls back the slide on his handgun and quietly pushes open the door, aiming the gun into the room. The nurses all scream, stepping back, but the doctor just turns and looks at Joel, a mixture of confusion, arrogance, and fear in his eyes.

“Unhook her,” Joel quietly demands.

The doctor replies. “No! What are you doing? You need to leave my or now!”

Joel fires a warning shot into the air, the nurses screams echoing through the small room. “Unhook her.”

The doctor, now frantic, reaches to the side and grabs a tool off a tray, like a small blade. A scalpel. “No! I won’t let you take her!”

Joel fires a single shot and blood spurts from the doctor’s forehead as his body crumbles to the ground. The nurses scream again, huddling together as if that would save them. Joel turns the gun on them but doesn’t fire.

“Unhook her.” They don’t move, their hands trembling. “Now!”

One nurse moves forward and unhooks Ellie from the machines. She quickly steps back, giving Joel as much room as she’s physically able as he steps forward, gently scooping Ellie into his arms. She’s so small, her eyes still closed from the anesthesia, resting against Joel’s bicep. He turns and strides from the room and I follow, not looking back at the nurses.

The halls are quiet now, Joel having taken out any soldiers that were running at us. But that doesn’t mean we’re alone. Our guards still up, Joel stops to punch the elevator button, shifting Ellie up a little to get a better grip. Once we’re inside the elevator and the doors close behind us, Joel reaches over to press the garage button. The elevator lurches and starts its descent. 

“Do you need me to take her?” I ask quietly. I know his bones have to be aching. His face hardens, resolute as he shakes his head. 

“No. I got her.” We’re quiet for a moment as we watch the floor numbers tick down. “We’re going to leave. If there’s a car, we’ll take it. Find Will and Benny on the highway and head back to Jackson.” 

I nod. “Sounds good.”

The doors open and I stride out first, gun raised, my head on a swivel. I see nothing and we start forward, Joel tapping my arm with Ellie’s bare foot and nodding towards a truck that has the hood open, a battery attached to it charging. We head for it, but then Marlene steps from the shadows, her gun pointed straight at Joel. 

“I can’t let you leave with her, Joel.”

“You can. You can let us go.”

Marlene shakes her head. “She can change all of this. You can..we can forget all of what you just did, if you give her to me.”

Joel looks down at Ellie, then back up at Marlene. “You’ll never stop looking for us.”

“No. Wait, Joel-”

BOOM! 

A single shot rings out from the gun Joel had in his hand, concealed by Ellie’s hospital gown. Marlene flies back, her abdomen spurting blood as Joel steps around her, gently laying Ellie down in the back row of the truck. Marlene reaches up towards me. 

“You…you have to stop him, Ghost. She’s the answer.”

Before I can answer, Joel is back by my side, raises his gun, and Marlene becomes forever silent. Quietly, we get in the truck and drive out of the garage, making our way out of the city to the highway that moves around it, hoping that we’ll easily find Benny and Will. I reach over and grab Joel’s hand resting on his leg, giving it a small squeeze. He glances over at me, worry etched in his features for the first time.

“I…I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t…you shouldn’t have had to see that.”

I squeeze his hand harder. “You did what you had to do to protect your family. They would’ve killed her. Killed us. And it honestly doesn’t make any sense. For them to just kill Ellie from the start- wait. I see them!” I point out the window to 2 figures walking down the side of the road. They turn and Benny throws his hands in the air, his mouth forming a “whoop!”. I hop out and move to the back, giving one of them the seat with more leg room as I place Ellie’s head on my lap. As we drive back to Jackson, we fill them in on what happened. Will isn’t happy about it, but understands. Benny simply says “Fuck those assholes.”

We stash the truck and walk the last several miles to Jackson, grateful we didn’t have another couple of months work of walking. Benny, Will, and I make it down the side of the hill several feet before we realize that Ellie and Joel aren’t with us. We wait for a moment and they come over the edge, Ellie retreating back into her mind as Joel looks on, worried. He’d asked all of us to not say anything to Ellie about what happened. He’d told her raiders had come and it was all we could do to get her out in time. I don’t think she buys it, but I follow Joel’s lead. A pit grows in my stomach, like this will come back to haunt us. But for now, I’m choosing to look forward. Especially when the gates swing open and Tommy runs to greet us, sweeping me up into his arms as he holds me close. 

—----

5 years later…

“Do you both have to go so early?” I complain as I lay sandwiched between Joel and Tommy, who had joined our..family within a year of us returning from Salt Lake. Tommy presses himself against me from behind, growing harder every time he grinds his hips against my ass, his hand making its way between my thighs. Joel faces me and grips my chin gently, staring into my eyes.

“Sorry, angel. Tommy agreed to switch so Ellie could sleep in after last night.” He glances up behind me, giving a quick nod to Tommy, who’s hand gently pushes my back forward slightly, angling my hips up. He slowly pushes into me and my lips part, a small gasp coming from me as he stretches me. As Tommy starts to rut into me, his thumb teasing my clit, Joel’s grip on my chin doesn’t loosen, his silent demand that I keep my eyes on him. His other hand reaches out and gently pinches one of my nipples just as Tommy hits a spot inside me and I cry out, my orgasm flowing through me as Tommy reaches his, biting my shoulder as he comes. He soothes the bite with a kiss, as Joel brings his lips to mine, kissing me softly. Tommy pulls out and I whimper into Joel’s mouth. Tommy disappears for a moment before tossing a wet rag at Joel, who rips himself away from me to yelp, cursing at Tommy as his chest glistens with the water from the wet rag. I chuckle, swiping at the water with my bare hand, like that would do anything. I just wanted to touch his chest. 

Tommy closes the bathroom door behind him, the shower turning on. Joel focuses his attention back on me, cupping my cheek, rubbing his thumb across it before lightly kissing me. “Roll over and spread your legs.”

My entire body heats up and I nod furiously, quickly rolling onto my back, spreading my legs as wide as I can while Joel watches me, his eyes raking down my body. He kneels on the bed, rag in hand, and dabs at my sensitive pussy, gently cleaning his brother off me. He presses one of his large fingers inside me and I squirm as he cleans me out, wiping his hand on the rag when he’s done. Without saying a word, he lowers his mouth to me, dragging his tongue up the center of me and I gasp his name, my hands flying to his head, fingers tangling in his greying curls. He continues to torture me, bringing me to the edge and then pulling back, his nose gliding up my center. 

“Please, Joel,” I beg, my body wound up and desperate. 

He gently kisses my pussy and I whine, bucking my hips into his face. He chuckles, a quick, light lick to my clit before backing off again and I huff, opening my mouth to tell him off. Or something. I can’t remember because Joel dives back in, coming at me like he can’t hold back any longer and a handful of seconds later I cum, fingers digging into his head as I hold him there, his name a chant on my lips. As I start to come down, Joel pulls away, crawling up my body, pinning my wrists on either side of my head. His eyes stare down at mine, nearly black with lust.

“I’m gonna fuck you into this bed and you’re gonna take it. Got it?” 

I nod. “Yes. Yes, I’ll take whatever you can-” Joel pushes into me with force and I cry out, wrapping my legs around him as he loses himself in me, having edged himself too. He cums a few moments later, his forehead dropping to my chest as we both breathe deeply, trying to catch our breaths. He drags his eyes up to mine, happy and content. 

“Hopefully that makes up for the early hour.”

I chuckle. “I hope you’re getting up early tomorrow too.”

—----

“I think I missed my morning patrol time?” Ellie says as she walks up to me at the main gate, horse reins in hand. 

I shake my head. “Nah. Tommy swapped with Joel so you could sleep in after…after the New Years Party last night.”

“Oh. Right. That was..nice.”

I smile at Ellie. Joel and her had been going through something lately and neither of them would explain it. Maybe they couldn’t. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah. We..talked last night. I’m going to come to movie night tonight.”

“Oh thank God. I’ve been outnumbered by boys for so long.”

Ellie laughs. “Sorry about that.”

I squeeze her arm. “Don’t worry about it. I know you’ve been going through something and sometimes you just need your own space. You know I’m always here to talk, right?”

She nods, adjusting her saddle. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Will and Benny walk up, coming from the guard post on the wall. They each press a kiss to my lips, while Benny reaches out to ruffle Ellie’s hair. She dodges, swearing at him and they play wrestle for a moment, Benny giving up when she pokes him in his only ticklish spot. Will helps me up onto my horse and I lean down to kiss him again. 

“Be careful, darlin’. We think that storm might come in. If you need to take shelter, just radio in as best you can and hunker down.”

“Of course. Love you.”

Benny helps Ellie onto her horse and she punches him on the shoulder. “Ouch.” 

“Plenty more where that came from.”

Benny rubs at his shoulder, smirking before turning to me. “Should’ve never taught her how to fight.” I lean down and kiss him, his large hand cupping my cheek as he holds me there for a moment, pulling back just enough for me to see his bright blue eyes. “Be careful, sweetheart. Don’t take any chances if that storm rolls in quick.”

“I promise. Stay safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

—----

“I’m so glad Jesse showed you this place,” I say as I take another cookie from Ellie’s outstretched hand. She’s smiling, for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Yeah, me too. Great place to wait out a storm like that one coming at us.”

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the special plants and snacks stored here?” I raise my eyebrows, smirking.

Ellie puts her hand on her chest, looking fake shocked. “What are you saying?”

Static scratches out from the walkie. “Ghost? Ellie? You there?”

I pick it up, pressing the button. “Yeah we’re bunkered down. Everything ok in Jackson?”

The operator, Allie, answers. “We’re fine but have you heard from Joel and Tommy recently?” 

Ellie and I sit up. “No. Have you?”

“Not since they started route. They’re not answering.”

Ellie and I look at each other, fear and worry coursing through my veins. “Roger that. We’ll go look for them.” 

“I don’t think that’s-” I click off the walkie and look up at Ellie, my own worry echoed in her features. 

“Let’s go find them,” She says, quickly gathering up her pack and heading for the door, zipping up coats as she walks. We make it outside, the wind already blowing, our horses complaining about going back in it. I grab Ellie’s arm and she looks at me.

“We should split up. Stay on channel 4, ok?” I hold up my walkie and she clicks hers to channel 4, holding it up to confirm. She turns to get on Shimmer, her horse, but I grab her arm again.

“What?”

“Just…be careful. Don’t forget to radio me if you find anything.”

“Yeah. Of course. You too.”

We hop on our horses and take off in opposite directions, both of us terrified at what we might find. Best case scenario, their walkies are dead or the storm has blocked the signal and they’re tucked away somewhere safe. Worst case…I’m not thinking about that.

I ride for about half an hour when a sudden lurch in my stomach has me pulling on the reins to stop my horse. Anxiety and panic flood my system. I look around, not seeing anything, but I can’t shake this feeling. I ride for another couple of minutes, thinking about what structures would be near enough to their route-

The resort. 

I turn my horse and spur him on, riding into the wind and snow as the blizzard creeps towards us. It’s so hard to see in this, and the rushing sound in my head doesn’t help. They’re at the resort. They’re tucked in all safe. Nothing is wrong. But the closer I get to the resort, the more the panic rises, making me gasp for breath a few times. I finally break through the line of trees and see the resort…and a couple of horses outside it. I hop off mine and take out my gun, checking it before quietly moving to the door. I try the handle and it turns easy, allowing me to slip inside. The roaring of the wind is muted, my ears and eyes taking a quick moment to adjust. But then I hear the sounds coming from upstairs. Thuds and- no. No!

Joel’s grunts and cries of anguish are loud in my ears, each one coming after a painful sound blow. For a brief moment, I have to choke back the simultaneous urge to vomit and to run towards him, hell bent on putting myself between him and whatever was making him make those sounds. 

“No! Please stop!” 

Ellie. Begging and crying. She’s not alone. Another voice, female, scoffs. 

“Do you think he waited? When he killed everyone in that hospital? They were just there to find a cure. And then he came in and bam! Dead.” 

I move through the hall and up the stairs like a ghost, the reason I earned my nickname. I reach the top of the stairs, a door standing ajar in front of me, Joel’s grunts sounding weaker despite me being closer. I swallow hard, bracing myself for whatever is behind the door. No one else is in the hallway, so I move up to the cracked doorway and peer inside. Tommy lies crumbled in a heap on the other side of the room, two young women standing over him. He’s breathing, so he must be knocked out. The men in front of me are holding Ellie to the ground, her arm pinned painfully behind her back before he kicks her in the ribs, telling her to be quiet. Rage fills me, but my eyes drag up and to the center of the room, where another young woman stands over a bloody pile of rags, kicking it again and again. I focus on the rags for a moment before I realize what exactly I’m looking at, the blood in my veins freezing in fear, but also burning with rage.

Joel. Not rags. Joel. Beaten so badly that I could hardly recognize him. 

My brain clicks, all expression sliding off of my face as I slowly stand, taking my knife from my pocket. My blades quietly slices into the one man with his foot on Ellie’s back and before he realizes he’s dead, I’ve sliced into the other man, his blood gushing down his side. Ellie doesn’t move. I raise my gun just as one of the 2 women look up and see me, horror on their faces. 

“Wait-”

I hit my first target in between her eyes, her body crumbling to the floor. The other girl raises her hands but she meets the same fate as her friend, their bodies lifeless and staring blankly ahead. I turn to face the woman standing over Joel’s bloody body, a broken golf club in her hands. She looks at me, her rage fueled by my apparent indifference to it. I aim my gun at her, gently pulling the trigger and…it jams. She glances down at Joel and back at me before she raises the golf club, aiming it at the back of Joel’s neck.

I yell, a primal, guttural scream, as I drop the gun and lunge at this person, tackling her to the ground before she could do anything. She struggles against me, yelling back and we roll for a couple times before I’m on top, pinning her arms beneath my knees. My hands wrap around her throat as she chokes and sputters, her body jerking as I watch the life start to fade from her eyes. But then I let go and she gasps for air, choking as she breathes rapidly and deeply. Once she’s caught her breath, I wrap my hands around her throat again, watching with a blank expression as she tries to fight for her life. I bring her back 3 more times, each time she gets weaker, her sputters less and less. I want to watch the life leave her eyes for what she’s done, watch her die here and now knowing that all of her companions, her friends, are dead because of what she’s done to my husband. 

“Joel!” Ellie cries out from across the room, still barely able to move. I blink, coming out of my rage vengeance and simply watch as the girl under my hands chokes, sputtering, her limbs fighting back less and less. I watch as the light leaves her eyes, the last thing she sees is me. I release her, swinging my legs off her body before I come to, the rage leaving me the second I lay eyes on him.

“Joel?” He’s on his stomach, his bloody cheek pressed against the hard ground, his eye bruised and puffy, gashes and scrapes bleeding and puffing up not just on his face, but across his body. His leg has a homemade tourniquet above what I’m assuming is a gunshot wound. His shirt is torn in several places across his back, revealing deep puncture wounds, a small stream of blood spreading out onto the floor. 

“Joel?” I don’t know what to do. My hands hover around various parts of his body, but I'm afraid to touch him. I don’t know where to start, what the worst injury is. I’m trained for medical, but this is…

Tears well in my eyes and I try to fight them back. “Joel, baby?” I put my face in front of his, pressing my hand to his bloodied one. “Joel, it’s me. It’s Ghost. I’m here. You’re safe. Ellie’s safe. So is Tommy. I got them all, I just need you to-” my voice cracks, the tears no longer able to be held as his tired and pained expression meets mine.” 

“Joel, please hold on. Let me look at you.” I throw my walkie at Ellie before returning my attention to Joel. “Look at me. Joel, you do not have my permission to die. Do you hear me? You c-can’t. Y-you can’t leave me, Joel. Please,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. He opens his mouth, gasping for air as he coughs out blood.

“Joel? No, NO you can’t! Please, please-” my entire world goes black.

—----

“You take me to her right now!” 

Joel’s voice rips me from my unconscious state. Where am I? My head spins, slowly coming back into focus. Joel? He’s alive? I blink, my vision clearing, and realize I’m back in the hospital room. In Salt Lake. What the fuck just happened?

“Joel, you know it has to be this way,” Marlene says in a poor attempt to console him. 

No, no this isn’t right. Didn’t that girl who was beating Joel say her dad was here? He was the doctor? I know what happens if we go down this path. I've seen it. 

“I don’t have another choice, Joel.”

“I do,” Joel says threateningly.

“Wait!” I sit up a little too fast, holding the side of my head while the room stops spinning. “Marlene, wait!”

She turns to look at me, but her body remains fully focused on Joel. She’s right to mistrust him. “I really have no choice, Ghost.”

“Marlene, you knew me. Know me. I’ve learned a lot, especially since leaving the Fireflies. You know I was studying not just sniper but medical. Healing. I learned…a lot. And let me tell you…I don’t think they need to kill Ellie.”

She turns her head fully to me now, the other soldier in the room tightening his grip on his gun. “What?”

“Think about it. This..doctor… wants to cut open her brain, right?”

She nods. “To get the cordyceps out.”

I shrug. “Yeah, but there’s no guarantee that it will work. I mean, she’s probably more than likely actually infected, not immune, and we don’t know what in her stopped the cordyceps from taking hold. Could it be something in her brain? Sure. But it could also be in her dna, or a myriad of other things.”

Marlene watches me for a few long moments. “What’s your point?”

I puff out some air. “Look. Everyone is wanting a cure, right? A preventative? But what sense does killing your only immune person make? Wouldn’t you want to make absolutely 100% sure it has to come from her brain before you kill her and then oops it doesn’t work? She’s your only immune person…right?”

Marlene takes longer than I like to answer. “She’s the only one we have now…but I’m not a doctor. Let’s go ask him.”

She jerks her head towards her soldier and addresses Joel. “Absolutely no funny business or they will kill you and her,” she points to me. Rude. “Got it?”

Joel nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

We quickly head up a couple flights of stairs to the pediatric surgery ward, where all of the lights are off except for one room. I’ve been here before, in..whatever I experienced a moment ago. Panic soars through me as images of Joel’s bloody and beaten body flash before my eyes. I pause for a moment and feel Joel’s large hand at my lower back.

“You ok, angel?”

“Mm no. But ask me later, ok?”

“O…k…”

Marlene pushes into the surgery room where a male doctor and 3 nurses stand over Ellie’s body as they do final preparations for surgery.

“What is this, Marelene? Get them out of here!”

She holds a hand up. “Not yet, Jerry. Just wait. You too.” She speaks to the nurses, who back off Ellie. 

The doctor, Jerry, looks pissed. “We only have a short amount of time. I won’t let you-”

“Are you certain you need to cut into her brain to make the cure?”

He looks shocked, even behind his face mask. “Well, yes.”

Fuck this guy. “How certain?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level. 

He looks over at me, his eyes raking my body up and down, assessing me. “Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter. Answer my question.”

“You wouldn’t understand. You would’ve been what, 5? When the outbreak happened?” He scoffs and I resist the urge to punch him.

“8, actually. But yet somehow I know more than you?”

He crosses his arms, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Why am I talking to her?”

Marlene speaks before I can. “Because that girl? I know her. She’s studied healing and medicine under some of the best people in this shitty world. She’s also the best shot I’ve ever seen and you have someone she cares about strapped to your table, so yeah. I’d answer her question.”

Jerry looks between us both, finally sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know…maybe like 65%?”

She doesn’t show it, but I know Marelene is shocked, her body language shifting slightly. Joel tenses beside me and I reach out to squeeze his hand. 

“Only 65%? You promised me a cure.”

Jerry gestures around. “Yeah well, I had to get her here. I have to look at her brain and then I can tell you better.”

“But how do you know her supposed cure doesn’t lie in her blood? Her dna?”

He looks back at me. “What do you mean supposed?”

“Assuming she’s immune and not infected.”

He watches me for a few long moments. “I…hadn’t considered that possibility.”

I point at Ellie. “You have no idea if she’s immune or just infected and her body has somehow prevented it from taking hold. Could it be in her brain? Sure. But it could also be in her blood. Or anything else.”

Jerry crosses his arms, cocking his head to the side. “You’re right. Unfortunately, it would be too difficult to know.”

“Why?”

Jerry gestures to the room. “Look around. We barely had enough power for this room, let alone a whole lab to do testing. We simply wouldn’t be able to accommodate that. Not without more power.”

Joel speaks up. “You know where there’s more.” Not a question.

Jerry nods. “Yeah. Marelene knows the specifics, but Gracepoint Hospital, on the other side of the city, has a ton of solar panels that would hook into the power grid for this hospital.”

Joel nods. “What’s the catch?”

Marlene and Jerry exchange a look. “It’s never been cleared. There’s a lot of infected in that area. We never took the risk.”

Joel nods, biting the inside of his cheek. “And I’m assuming these are the only ones?”

Marlene nods. “The only ones we know where they are and that they’ll work.”

Joel glances down at me and I nod. “Alright. Bring us my brothers and we’ll get your solar panels. But you have to promise that you will not place 1 cut on her body.” He steps forward towards Marlene and Jerry, his voice dropping. “Or I will hunt you until the ends of this earth and personally remove you from it. Agreed?”

Jerry swallows hard, glancing at Marlene, who also realizes the weight of Joel’s words. He is absolutely serious. They both stick their hands out and shake Joel’s and mine. “Agreed.”

Joel nods once. “Alright then. Marlene, bring my brothers to the lobby, And get a map to show us where this hospital is.”

Marlene moves to speak to her soldiers, sending a couple of them towards the highway where they’d already brought Will and Benny. Joel takes my hand again and pulls me out of the surgery, one last look at Ellie before he rounds the corner and brings me into another empty room. He closes the door and turns to me, clicking on a flashlight and setting it upside down on a table to illuminate a tiny space. 

“Alright, angel. I need your head in the game if we’re doing this. What’s wrong?”

I open my mouth to speak, but instead, tears fall freely from my eyes, my chest heaving as I sob. Joel pulls me to his chest, holding me tight as he cradles the back of my head, whispering to me as I cry. I pull back enough to look up at him, my hands lightly tracing his face, his beautiful face. Every scar, every line, all of it. All of him. I cup his face and pull him to me, kissing him gently before he pulls back, his eyebrows pulled together in worry.

“Are you ok, angel? What happened?”

So, I tell him. How I had woken in that bed and watched Joel kill nearly everyone here because they were going to kill Ellie. How I never spoke up and didn’t think twice about it. Our life over the span of 5 years in Jackson. How the group of young people came and beat him, how his face looked, and how I didn’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if he survived. Then I woke here, a chance to do it again, which is why I spoke up. 

His eyes water and he pulls me to him again. “Oh angel. I’m so sorry. But that wasn’t real. I’m here. We’re here, together. It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere.”

I sob again for another few minutes, trying to let go of the lingering images of his blood covered body. Then I pull back, wipe my eyes, take a deep breath, and let it out, stretching my limbs before looking back at Joel, determination in my features.

“Let’s go get those solar panels and help save the fucking world.”

—---- 

>>Chapter 16>>

General Taglist:

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I am unable to tag you:

@charlispersonallyhell @wretchedmo

[menofprogress]

Sorry everyone, but atp im OBSESSED with this person, like what is their goal? This is their 4th (that i know of) blog where they repost art, mostly arcane, but occassionally other fandoms, usually the exact same art across multiple blogs.

They use barely related words for tagging, probably to draw as much attention as possible to their reposts. But what for? Tumblr doesnt reward page impressions or engagement like other apps do, literally the only thing youd "get" out of reposting art is praise from fans, but they dont even seem to be after that? They dont claim to have drawn anything themselves and on a past blog even "credited" the original artists (which doesnt make the repost less shitty). In fact, the posts seem to be automated and while the littlegreen dot suggests that theyre online, they never really interact with anyone on here. So theyre not even reaping the positive attention or praise theyre stealing from the original artist.

As far as i can tell from the few actual pieces of coherent words we have of them they dont seem to be a native english speaker, but they are fully capable of understanding the criticism ppl throwat them for stealing art. Iirc they initially even responded to the criticism or deleted negative comments, but now theyre just letting ppl (including me) accuse and insult them in the notes of their posts without doing anything about it. Like, if i were them id have blocked me 10 times already. Im assuming they think any engagement is good engagement, but, again, tumblr doesnt reward that! And theyre not sprinkling in some of their own content so they can profit off of the attention the reposts are giving them, either.

I just dont get it, why do this???

Sigh. Here we are again, please block, report and ignore @samqueenwitch . This has to be their 4th blog full of stolen art now.....

Theyre also branching out to kpop demon hunters now

[glitter-stained]

"why does fanon love making Jason care about his goons when he kills them in canon" I'm sorry to tell you that Jason's Robin run is a significant work for his characterization. And that Willis Todd was in fact a goon. Like, that's a significant thing that happened.

(jaybin fans exist not every Jason fan is a hardcore UTH fan who thinks everything about Winick's writing is pure and just and the right way)

[ajastu]

god okay. sorry for yet another text post. but i'm just still thinking about the argument that veilguard is bad because the only option re: morality of your player character that it gives is kindness.

Now, to preface. I understand where this criticism comes from. Veilguard IS a departure from the general scheme of the previous games, in several aspects. And i understand how people would be upset at not having quite the same kind of options/ways to influence the world. It took me some getting used to, also.

What i do disagree with, however, is using that to claim that the game is bad, irredeemable, and also meaningless n soft or whatever.

Because it's really not. It's just different, with a different narrative focus. I've played the previous games several times, and as i said before, origins is in first place for me. Veilguard is a very close second. And i'm not more right or wrong in this opinion than someone who thinks datv is the worst game in the series.

You can still make choices that will influence the world in wildly different ways, they're just not... ''genocide or no genocide'' kinds of choices. Which i can see how some people would not consider the difference significant enough to be interesting for them personally. Which is whatever, im not their dad, i dont really care.

However. I think it's kind of weird to say that ''the game made me resent being a nice person'' or that "kindness you dont have the choice not to offer isnt worth a lot"

Like, game criticism aside. That is just an objectively weird thing to say.

There are ways to phrase that particular dissatisfaction in a way that will not make most people side-eye you. This is not one of those ways.

The thing is, it was a deliberate choice in characterization. Since game development at AAA scale is. an incredibly complex beast, i suspect there were many different reasons for it, and not all of them purely narrative. It is also not 2009 anymore. We are not getting another Origins, like, probably ever.

But. Rook is established in the very second cutscene to care about other people. It makes sense narratively, too, with Varric being the one to recruit them. Their backstory also shows that they gravitate towards the 'moral' choices. It's not bad writing. It's deliberate.

That does not mean that everyone has to like it. And i don't think the people who are upset about the change in this gameplay aspect are stupid or wrong.

We are all different people with different preferences, and i really am sorry if the game ended up being a disappointment for you. I know how it feels, and it does suck.

But i also do think it might be worth to examine the way people choose to phrase this complaining. The claim that kindness is somehow diminished in value if you aren't offered the choice to be cruel alongside it. I just think that, like. misses the point of what kindness is?

I know what those people mean when they say it, i just...fundamentally disagree with the sentiment. And i think phrasing it in this way is incredibly weird. sorry 🤷‍♂️

There is a better way to talk about this particular complaint. I just never actually SEE that being done. and i do think a lot of it comes from not actually engaging with the source material people are trying to criticize. Like, the person i sort of quoted earlier explicitly said they have not finished the game. If you never give something a chance in the first place, if all the information you have is second-hand, then i do not find your criticism valuable in any way. There is no substance to it, no backing. You are not proving a point, you're just chasing your own tail at that point. There isnt even a bone to chew. You've only heard of the bone. you havent actually experienced it.

Another part is people being too twisted up in the emotion of disappointment to actually see that they're not making compelling arguments, necessarily, and that they're actually being a tar pit.

I know not everyone thinks as much about the push towards dismissing the value of kindness for kindness' sake as i do. But like. It really is very weird to see this insistence that game bad bcs it didnt have the option to do a murder to an innocent person, or something. While also dismissing the horrible things we Are shown as 'not in your face enough'.

And honestly, personally? I dont love origins or any of the other ones specifically for the ability to choose the evil options. It's never even been a choice for me, because you can very well play the games without having to make the bad choices. theres always a workaround. And that workaround doesnt even harm u in any significant way. there isnt an actual like. terrible complexity here. I enjoy the dwarf politics quest a lot but ultimately, knowing the outcome? its EASY to choose Bhelen. Unless you're playing a dwarf noble origin, i guess. Rip Harrowmont 🙏 you would have made a terrible king.

And again, my personal opinion is not more right or wrong than that of someone who adored the prev dragon age games exactly because they allow you to make some terrible terrible moral choices.

At the end of the day. why are people still so pissed about a game that came out almost 6 months ago that many of them havent even played in the first place? Relax. take a walk if you can. Maybe move a snail out of the road if you find one. There tends to be a lot of them after it rains. Think about the ones that didn't make it. Try to find compassion for lives so easily dismissed. Maybe that will make you think about whether or not kindness on its own really is so lacking in value.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Time has come, the results are in, it was a tight race, and we have a tie! So let's see who got it wrong. A lot of you, since the one with least votes was....

#2 The LIE. Learned how to play the piano as a child. I never learned how to play it or any musical instrument for that matter. My sister did. You know how it is, younger siblings get all the breaks lol. No, actually, she just had an amazing ear. She could play anything in the piano after hearing it once and then she taught herself guitar and my thing was always singing so I would do that while she played whatever. I had some guitar lessons in uni but it didn't stick.

#1 Had to work with an ex after they dumped me. TRUTH! I appreciate some people saying they hoped this one was the lie, but unfortunately it's true. And it happened twice with the same person. But unlike the show, we weren't together that long, like less than a year. It was in my mid-twenties and I was working in theatre, and he was an actor and, as it turned out, a prick. It was very dramatic, but long story short, I had to see him every day during rehearsals and while the play was running. Funny thing about this though. One of the things I always think about when I talk about this is that part of my job was to handle the set and props. The actor in question had to drink something at some point in the play. Every day I was tempted to put something in that bottle, just like hot sauce or even lemon juice, because he had to chug that thing in one shot. But of course I never would've done it, because that show was as important to me as it was to everyone who worked on it. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it every day. Honestly, I was kinda crushed but I got over it quickly. And this isn't even the worst work/romance related story I have.

#3 Went to uni with an olympic gold medalist. TRUTH! There was indeed an olympic gold medallist in my uni. Triple jump gold medal to be specific. A couple of years younger than me, but we got to hang out during freshman orientation and he was cool. But yeah, he was the university pride and joy. Not unlike Jiwon. Weird thing is that I keep forgetting about this. It wasn’t until I was talking to @colourme-feral about the show and how I found it weird that he was so famous for a gymnast and then I was like, wait a minute. That’s exactly how it was when I was in uni. It was similar in the way that when he walked in the room everyone turned around to look at him. But also he was really tall, so he was hard to miss. But it was mostly in the beginning, after a while he was just another student. Which is probably why I keep forgetting about it. This was fun. Tagging folks who interacted with the original post under the cut so they can see the answers.

@colourme-feral @mikuni14 @thisonelikesaliens @littleragondin @incandescentflower @yannig @italianpersonwithashippersheart @sorry-bonebag @delesaria-blog @watchthisqqq @porridgefeast @pickletrip @benkaben @toastofthetrashfire @nabi-unveiled @dramalove247

Two truths and a lie - QL edition

I was tagged by @yannig here. Decided to make my own post and put my own spin on it. It's still two truths and a lie but make it things ql related. Cause I can make anything ql. It's pretty self explanatory, but yeah, two of these things are from a ql show and my life, and one just from a ql. Vote for the lie.

QLs referenced are - The Ex-Morning, Depth of Field and Ball Boy Tactics. I think there are enough qls around to make a bunch of these probably but I decided to go with recent or current ones.

tagging some folks to play if they feel like it but of course no pressure. you can just vote. @thisonelikesaliens @nabi-unveiled @dramalove247 @watchthisqqq @colourme-feral @mikuni14 @incandescentflower @littleragondin @sorry-bonebag @emotionallychargedtowel @troubled-mind @italianpersonwithashippersheart @mikuni14 @porridgefeast and if you see this and want to play consider yourself tagged here ➡️@💜

[shrrrrimp]

BSD OC time woo‼️

what do we think chat? :3c

(the second one is still a sketch)

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

(edited to add information ↓)

"Lailaps"

Real name: Yūsei Araki

憂誠 荒木

ユウセイ あらき　

SKILL: The Crawling Chaos

Manipulates the fear, dread, and horror of people and animals. Allowing her to control them through their fears. Her stitched mouth is to restrain her ability as it activated by her scream. And although her snake companion —Pearl— isn't a part of her ability, it still helps her control her victims.

AGE: 21

BIRTH DATE: November 28

HEIGHT: 171 cm

WEIGHT: 57 kg

BLOOD TYPE: O

LIKES: Flowers, animals

DISLIKES: Unreasonable people, herself

[stygianheart]

I think one of my “favorite” things is when people misinterpret what it means to be aroace. Watching people so clearly not understand the complexity behind the spectrum of aromatic and asexuality and then proceed to say they “stand with” aroace as an ally is so hilarious to me. Especially when they use this to start bashing on a perfectly fine ship, especially because said ship gets in the way of theirs.

Aroace does not mean no attraction. The plastered poster face for it is people who don’t feel ANY types of attraction, but that does not mean everyone. Aromantic people can date and fall in love. Asexual people can fuck. Aroace people can do both.

Yes, aroace rep IS needed. But we still have it via Luffy—just because Luffy kisses someone (hypothetically) doesn’t mean we just yeeted the aroace label off of him. He is STILL aroace. You know who else is aroace? Bon Clay, for one. Zoro as well. Yet I don’t see people screaming that shipping Zoro with someone completely erases the aroace label, now do I?

Ugh, I’d totally make a whole ass essay about this, but it’s half till midnight. It’s just. Been on my mind for a few hours and I need to say a little shit

[artfulacrostic]

okay i know we're past ddba 1x08 now and i still haven't finished articulating the meta i have for 1x04 but LISTEN im unable to suppress my Thoughts about the titles of all these episodes. veryyyy interesting choices imo! this is about to be a LONG ASS POST so warning you here and now.

okay so in this post i wanna talk about episodes 1 and 3, which both feature titles based on what are commonly perceived as old irish blessings. for ep 1 we have "may you be in heaven a full half-hour before the devil knows you're dead" = heaven's half hour, and for ep 3 we have "may God hold you in the hollow of His hand" = the hollow of his hand. now the actual origin of both of these is usually attributed to being "irish blessings", but there is some amount of disagreement about the precise origins, and how authentic or inauthentic they actually are. also is it just me or are the writers for ddba obsessed with the idea of references to irish culture and/or matt's relation/lack of relation to it?? ep. 5, lol....

anyway, the phrase that inspired the title for ep 1 is, as best as i can find, possibly the last line of an irish drinking toast, but i couldn't find nearly as much online discussion of it and what i did find seemed unsubstantiated. therefore, i'm gonna leave that one as a more nebulous nod to general circumstances of the episode (literal drinking toast to cherry, with foreshadowing to foggy's impending demise) with just a sprinkle of matt's distant ancestry for fun.

ep 3's title, meanwhile, has a LOT more interesting background! the way that heather does the title drop ("may God hold them in the hollow of his hand") implies that she's using it in the way that references this "irish blessing" poem/song:

May the road rise up to meet you, May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, The rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

now, this poem has dubiously vague origins, but one thing that is known is that the first line is basically a slight mistranslation of an actual old irish phrase, where people tend to mistake one word that means "be successful" with another word that means "rise". so while the actual meaning is closer to "may your road/journey be successful", the fact remains that the first line does appear to have an origin as a general irish "good luck". the rest of the poem, however, is probablyyyyy not exactly an ancient blessing, but something people came up with to accompany the mistranslation line. several irish people on reddit have called it "yank tosh", which i personally think is hilarious, bc that sounds about right. (i'm a us citizen with irish ancestry that i'm about as connected to as matt is, aka mr. "where's your family from then?" "i'm from hell's kitchen").

in addition, you might have noticed that rather than "the hollow of his hand", the poem actually reads "in the palm of his hand". this is as far as i am aware the more common modern phrasing (and the one i'm familiar with, from the embroidered pillows in my grandmother's house on the irish side of my family—for context i'm about as connected to my irish ancestry as matt is, aka mr. "where's your family from then?" "i'm from hell's kitchen"). however, from searching online it does appear that "hollow" is still used once in a while, just not as often in the context of the poem, especially when it's set to music.

soooooo now we finally get to my argument: despite the title drop via heather which points to the poem, i think the deeper and more accurate reference that the ep 3 title is really making is to isaiah 40:12, which is the origin of the actual God-holding-something-in-the-"hollow"-of-his-hand imagery. check this out:

 12 "Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and weighed the heavens with his palm? who hath poised with three fingers the bulk of the earth, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance?"

now that's what i'm TALKING about. your context for isaiah 40—let me be clear, i am speaking from a context of catholic study of this book, since that's what i grew up on and that's presumably how it's relevant to matt our catholic guilt poster-boy—is that post-babylonian exile, isaiah the prophet's message to the people of god is 1) comfort for their pain, 2) reassurance that their sins will be forgiven, 3) hope for the future aka the coming of the lord and how it's imminent and they need to get ready for that, and 4) general glorification of god's awesome power and strength, etc, and that if they have hope in him and persevere everything's gonna be allll good, baby!

unfortunately. the biblical israelites are not so good with the idea of the exile as a just punishment to absolve them of their previous sins, and they express that they feel they have not received the justice they deserve:

  27 "Why sayest thou, O Jacob, and speakest, O Israel: My way is hid from the Lord, and my judgment is passed over from my God?"

and basically the next bunch of chapters in this book is a piece by piece dissection of why they're wrong about this; god is literally putting them "on trial" in order to refute their arguments here, as he says in the first verse of isaiah 41:

1 "Let the islands keep silence before me, and the nations take new strength: let them come near, and then speak, let us come near to judgment together."

so! what does all this biblical circumlocution add up to in relation to episode 3? glad you asked!

if the episode represents the main themes of isaiah 40 and the book in general, then here we go:

a) what is matt guilty of or feel that he's guilty of? aka, what is his sin that is being paralleled with that of the biblical israelites? well, most recently we have attempted murder, the death of foggy due to association with him, the death of other people (father lantom, etc) due to association with him, and probably other less grave but still bad things like chronic severe and premeditated lying (lol), willfully missing mass (seems like it from how we see him passing by and not going in to the church), etc.

conclusion? i'd say that if the israelites can be forgiven for their sins— 

 2 "her iniquity is forgiven: she hath received of the hand of the Lord double for all her sins..."

—then so can matt, despite everything.

b) in the same vein, what has been causing matt pain? aka, what has been his babylonian exile? i'd say probably the loss of his old life, which, as we heard in ep 7, is still so raw after a year that he feels like his new life is "fake" (ouch).

conclusion? i'd say guess what matt, good news:

1  "Be comforted, be comforted, my people, saith your God..."

...aka don't worry, the pain is coming to an end. one way or another, his babylonian exile is about to be over.

c) what is coming in the near future, and what should matt do to get through it? well, here's the clincher: salvation is coming. get ready.

 4 "Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall become straight, and the rough ways plain."

this could not just be literal "prepare the way jesus is coming but also a metaphorical sort of, "the oppressed will be lifted, the high and mighty (fisk) will fall, the corruption can be cleansed, and the fucking terrible shit hand you have right now could get better". it super hurts that this episode (1x03) feels like a success for those goals for a moment before hector gets murdered and matt and hector's family are all left with nothing but good intentions.

conclusion? catholicism is big on not just faith, but also works, so matt needs to keep going in the face of all this shit and trust that due to both his own efforts and his faith, things will improve. also not to mention,

29 "It is he that giveth strength to the weary, and increaseth force and might to them that are not." so matt my guy hang in there.

d) the hollow of his hand means WHAT EXACTLY, THEN? you are thinking. GET TO IT? well, here we go: heather's toast is a bit bitter for matt to swallow, why? because of this:

 12 "Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand...?  14 With whom hath he consulted, and who hath instructed him, and taught him the path of justice, and taught him knowledge, and shewed him the way of understanding?"

what this boils down to is power: who can do these things? only god. who can god consult with on these things? nobody, because god invented them. god being able to measure all of the waters in the world in the vastness of just one hand provokes an image of awesome power beyond human comphrension. this phrase and much of isaiah 40 in general is a comprehensive reminder of why, in the catholic belief system, god is in charge. not humankind. god knows everything, is everything, and has a Plan that involves holding every creation gently in the palm of that hand, just like the water, measuring the breadth and span of their existence and understanding them down to every atom.

the toast hurts because matt believes god is all-powerful, all-knowing, and yet god's plan didn't involve foggy nelson surviving. god may be holding the court case, foggy, and men who cook in his hand, measuring them and protecting them symbolically, but on earth, it's humans who have to put in the work, because free will is a thing. this is what matt believes. and he believes that he didn't put in the work. he couldn't protect foggy, just like he can't protect hector from being murdered even after doing his best to win his court case. heather might be making a pithy wish for god to appreciate and protect the case, foggy, and a man who cooks, but the man who cooks is still going to be the only one of those things intact by the end of the night.

but he hasn't allowed himself to fully succumb to despair, even in this spiral he's been in for the entire season. he can't, because he has to put in the work. the question is, what is the kind of work he's meant to be doing? what is god's plan for him? so deep down, even though he's in pain, exiled from his old life, a sinner who can't even make it through the doors of church, salvation is coming. he can't make himself extinguish his belief, or stop hoping.

 31 "But they that hope in the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall take wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."

[chaos-in-one]

Current syscourse mood:

[drlancaster]

Take some Teru concepts I made while I finish up the last few things I'm drawing!!!

I'm so sorry they're taking so long I have had a really long week 😭

Go read The Forgotten Son pretty pretty please :3 it's by @teruthecreator on ao3 and it's so good. You'll love it I promise

Oh um this is me editing this, I originally forgot to actually tag him when first I posted this. ANYWAYS HE USES THE SAME NAME ON AO3 AS HE DOES ON HERE

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[themyscirah]

Okay so basically the United States MINT of all people is going to be working with DC to make a line of coins! These coins sadly won't be in circulation (the things I would do to live in a world where I could get Batman coins from the supermarket) as they're collectors coins, but will be releasing over the course of the next 3 years, 2025-2027.

Designs haven't been released yet (the same is true for all 2025 designs) but we know there will be 9 coins in total (3 each year) with the first year featuring (of course!!!) Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman.

Although we know the first three heroes to be featured, the remaining six have yet to be decided, and it turns out the Mint is putting out a survey on their site to gauge which of a group of culturally significant heroes people want to see most! (link to the form is mentioned in the article above)

The considered group includes: Supergirl, the Flash, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Captain Marvel, John Stewart GL, Aquaman, Hawkman, Jamie Reyes BB, Robin (Damian?), Cyborg, and Batgirl, of which 6 will be selected.

As someone who does a bit of coin collecting myself (mainly circulation coins like the quarters sets, but I also have a couple proof and collectors coins) I think this is a really cool and interesting idea that showcases the history of the comics medium and these characters and their influence on American culture. Really excited to wait and see what the designs look like for the coins already announced!