#yes I redacted his birth name what of it

[writingmochi]

part 1

cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. the peeps, enhypen, and other idols)

synopsis: when you told your long-term rival and latest hook-up, heeseung, that you are pregnant with his child; you didn't expect said topic to be involved in your rivalry!

genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, slow burn, drama, rivals since childhood to [redacted], college/university au, pregnancy au, future parents au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)

word count: 24198 (24.2k) out of 60550 (60.5k)

warning(s): pregnancy (what did you expect?), so many curse words!, description of explicit sex (in a flashback sense), rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, manhandling, vomiting, mention of drugs (marijuana, alcohol), mention of blood, dark humor (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

first fic of 2024! i've ideated this since like 2022 and it's here what the heck!! this is part 1 of 2 of a 57k-58k word count one-shot (yes, this is supposed to be a one-shot) but tumblr hates me so i have to divide it into two. thanks for the 200+ notes on the teaser/character intro and i hope you enjoy it!

soundtrack (spoilers for part 2!) | part 2

prologue: a town called valentine

it was valentine 2002 when you and heeseung first met. well, if you consider babies who can’t even talk to each other will know of each other. you have to thank both of your moms for that—getting pregnant around the same time and giving birth in the same year as well.

but the earliest—vivid—memory you have of him was on valentine 2005. you hid behind your mama’s leg as she talked with someone: another adult. you glance around the outside space you’re in, the plants and pathway unknown to you as mama can see your eyes wander with your tiny mouth agape when you look past the other adult to recognize the widening door right beside them. you heard your mother giggling with the other person as they converse about something your 4-year-old mind wouldn’t be able to understand.

“(y/n) sweetie! say hi to auntie.” your mama caresses your hair with her hand as she guides you to stand beside her, her hands moving behind your small set of shoulders before you. the small hands reached for one of hers, holding it tight as you stood beside her.

“hello…” you looked up to meet a beautiful woman. her eyes are wide as they remind you of the mother deer you last saw when you watched bambi with mama and papa. and you can feel a ticklish feeling inside you as you watch her eyes smiling softly at you. as she smiles at you softly.

“hello (y/n)! you’ve grown so much since i last met you.” her hands give a wave, making you raise your hand up as you mirror her while you pick up your mama’s chuckle. the lady moves back, extending her arm as you see a clean hallway full of photos on one side and a cabinet full of shoes on the other. some of them looking similar to your own shoe size.

“please come inside. i’ve set the toys so she can play with them if she wants.” the lady—well, auntie—said as your mama guided you inside with her trailing behind. sitting on the hidden seating area by the cabinet, she helps you take off your shoes before opening her hands to let you hold them. she lets you walk in front as both of you enter a big room with a sofa in front of a television. as per told by mama every time you enter someone’s home: sit down beside mama or papa as you waited for the homeowner to guide you next. the back of the sofa is too tall for your height now and you let your hand graze against the side of the soft sofa when you encounter a large mat laid in between the sofa and the screen.

your brain tingles when you find a few toys you can name—like the ones you own back home—while a few of them you don’t recognize at all. eyes on the toys, you throw away whatever your mama has told you and tug her hand to let her know the existence of them. looking up, she looks down at you, glance at the pile of toys left behind, and gives nods, making you grin as you both sit on the playmat. your eyes immediately look at blocks stacked shaping like a house; its triangle roof, square walls, four windows, and door makes you easily imagine it. you crawl towards it and the box beside it, finding the other blocks left behind as you pull some of them out to make your own little house. as you slowly stack up the blocks—hearing the sound of wood tapping against each other—you heard the sound of giggling coming from behind the sofa.

“sorry, he just finished taking a bath.” auntie said to your mom who was behind you, walking closer to the sofa as you turned your head to face her. that’s when you see another person walking into the room with a small pitter-patter heard behind them. the steps are getting louder and louder as you see a small figure enter the room, walking towards the person laughing. the person wipes his face with his small hand before pausing, turning his head to you.

“hi heeseung!” you heard your mama say as the boy’s laugh slows down and he looks at you and your mama. auntie, who now looks more like the bigger version of the boy, steps in to help him move and sit down beside you. you see him crouch down as you can see his face clearer. yet, his eyes wander on the house made of blocks—his house—and the house you’re making; wider by one block than his.

“that’s (y/n). you were too young to remember but auntie and i always bring you two to playdates since you’re not even one year old. she’s the same age as you.” you heard auntie say as you felt your mama help you to scoot closer. his hand reaches for the box of blocks as you place the final block on your house while he’s pulling out more blocks. you look at the boy’s action as you feel mama, with her larger hand, holding onto your smaller one. your palm is now open as you see heeseung was told to do the same by his mom, putting away the blocks on the mat. your hands meet each other as you say your name. mama helps in closing your fingers, wrapping your hand in his as he follows.

“my name is (y/n).” the boy’s hand also uses the same force when you shake it. both women let go of their children’s hands as both of your little hands are floating, connected, and shaking. your eyes meet his as he looks back at the two houses made of blocks.

“my name is heeseung.” he smiles.

-

1. stay soft, silly

the way the corner of his mouth twitches makes you think outside of the plan you are executing now, nearly done in telling him what he needs to know.

your hands rested on top of your stomach, feeling a little bulge that was not there a month ago. his ice americano contrasts with your hot jasmine tea as you sit across from each other. years upon years of history went on pause for this moment. for a truce that you are proposing.

“and they’re mine?” heeseung sounded. your eyebrows folded, looking down at the swollen part beneath your stomach as you pouted your lips, holding back your giggling as you glanced back at him.

“i haven’t had sex with anyone this past month besides you. so, yeah. the baby is yours.”

it’s funny, you see. with the amount of carefulness you and your friends have taught you of the college hook-up culture you got roped into, you never expected to hook up with your rival. yet tension does what tension does, and it snaps as you both stumbled to kiss each other.

when it comes to your “relationship” with heeseung, the closest to a positive one was when you were in kindergarten, as you’ve known him before by the amount of playdates both of your mothers set up.

little did they know that one time at a playground during one of those playdates, you were left alone to play with your sandcastles as heeseung ventured to play with the other boys, running around the sandpit playing tag and how you see the familiar little jeans pants walks in front of you, knocking the castle down and flying the specks of sand to your face with your slower reaction speed—because of your younger age—not making you close your eyelids quicker. your eyes watering as you wail out, getting the attention of your mama but not the jean-wearing boy’s attention as you hear his mom telling him to stop. apologizing is simple for your younger self, just a plain “sorry” is okay. but when lee heeseung—who you consider your friend at that time—said “sorry” with a grin on his face, you caught onto the impression that he was not sorry at all.

at age 7, you came back from the cafeteria to your class to find heeseung and his gang of boys pulling on a girl’s hair, the familiar sadness showing on her face as you caught her eyes. you’ve known that they’ve played “dirty” and have been teasing other girls in your class before—just not you, which is strange in itself. with a tense set of hands, you push the boys away with your might and stand in between them, helping the girl who cowers behind you. you look down to watch heeseung on the floor, teeth showing and face crunched as he sees the scratch from when you pushed him near his elbow.

“what was that for?”

“to stop you. she doesn’t like it.”

one of his boys helps to pick him up on his feet as you can see him limping. your arms still wide as you protect the girl as best as you can. he pushes his sweaty bangs off his face as you can define the same gaze he had given you when you were 5 at the playground, now fiery. and you exude the same thing with your glare as you see the other boys helping carry him out to the nurse's office, his eyes staying on yours as you feel the girl’s hand holding you back from not walking after him again.

stickers become score markers as you and he tried to compete to get the most out of them, which comes with being nice and clever during classes. you were 10 when you had the same class as him once again, having to compete to be the quickest when raising your hands. but also the lowly giggles you give each other as you both realize just how wrong each other’s answers that comes with the teasing annoyance. it also comes in gym class as the teacher divided you up into different teams during team games—basketball being the most competitive as you are familiar with it. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to run towards you if you have a ball and try to dribble it across the court, pulling it as you try to pass it to your teammate, resulting in a tug-of-war where you both just don’t want to let it go. even with the whistling from the teacher as one teammate gets a hold of it to continue the game, you instead continue to have a screaming match with him.

it continues through middle school as you remember him not hesitating with his power to slam his dodgeball at your stomach during another gym class, making you curl up on the floor as your friends help you to the nurse's office, hearing him screaming “that’s what you get from stealing my lunch” as you remembered the taste of the chocolate bread you pick up from his tray yesterday. at high school as you and him argue in front of the vice principal about each of your club’s fundings, him with his basketball club who is already so successful with their winnings money that they can’t seem to let go to help other clubs who are staying afloat. even with your school having pride in the basketball team and other sports club achievements—making it a staple for the students to watch at least one game during their high school years. you never went to one as you rather babysit your neighbor’s kid for money than watch heeseung’s smug smile as he won another mvp trophy for that tournament.

when college came and you got into hybe uni as a business major, you didn’t expect to see heeseung on campus. you’ve known that since he focuses more on basketball in middle school, you are winning when it comes to academics. but when his smirking face tells you he got into hybe with a full scholarship because of basketball, your heart plummets into the fathoms. you were glad that he’s not in the same faculty as you, but the college environment is so small that your acquaintances recognize each other. you can’t seem to stay away from him who still has his smart for balancing his gpa and non-academic activities.

so when your lips met his own as you sobered up after having the party busted by the police, your mind is telling you to out-better him in lust and pleasure.

“who can make each other cum the most? never thought of you as that filthy, (l/n)”

the grip of his hair on your hand tightens as he trails his own to get a grip of yours. both of your heads now straight as you can’t look away from each other even if you want to.

“i take that you’re saying that because you don’t know how to make girls cum with your dick, lee.” you chuckled. heeseung’s gaze is still meeting yours as he pushes your head forward, making your forehead touch his as he mumbles something only you can hear.

“i know i can make you cum on my dick just by the way you’re clenching your thighs, baby. how do we tally the score?”

“start a kiss on the lips when you know you can’t hold back?”

“deal.”

“by the way, who won?” heeseung asked, leaning his body forward on the table as you peer down at his position from you, holding yourself as you stretch your back to help with the pain.

“how many times did you cum? and don’t fucking lie.”

heeseung’s bed is rocking beneath you as he folds you up in half, your knees on either side of you as he pounds into you. gasps fall out of your mouth as you pull on his hair, something you realize he likes after the amount of groan coming out of him from when you tug him. praises come out of your mouth as you try every method you can to turn him on first; to make him cum first. but the way he is pushing down on your abdomen makes you clench harder.

“look at how you’re clenching onto me. you’re close, aren’t you?” he whispered as you felt the breeze blowing onto your saliva-stained neck you are certain had hickeys on it. heeseung had to remind himself that he couldn’t kiss your lips, no matter how delectable they were, changing to kissing your neck.

“n-“ you moan as heeseung’s hand traces down to grip your ribcage, pulling you closer to him so he could find another angle to reach you deeper, pleasuring you both in return. “no.”

“don’t lie to me, (y/n).” his head pulls back from your crook as you watch his bangs faltering from the hard pounding to his mattress. “god, you’re so fucking hot when you’re under me.”

“fuck, just like that.” you retaliate with your own dirty talk, hands holding his waist so he could stay longer in your cavern as you grip him. but when you sense his breath against your skin, nose upon nose touching, the grip on his waist trails up as you cup his face. nodding your head as you feel him getting faster, you pull his head down and make his lips meet yours. you bit your bottom lip as your muffled moans vibrated between the two of you. your body giving up for a moment as he continued to thrust into you, making you let go as you let out a silent scream when you felt the moist gushing against him inside you. heeseung’s lips are unhesitant to kiss between your eyebrows as your body calms down from shaking, eyes rolling back to their original place as you continue to caress his cheekbone before a surge of energy comes back to you. you push him to the side, placing him down on the mattress as your hands grab both of his wrists to rest beside his head.

“i can feel you twitching inside me, hee. i know you’re close,” you said as you bounce on his lap, feeling the way your essence fell out and how much slick is on his penis because of you. as you have the upper hand, you decide to tease him by falling on him slower than the pace you have familiarized, making his wrists flinched under your hold as you click your tongue.

“you like how my walls are sucking you?”

“fuck, yes,” he mumbled under his breath.

“yeah..?” you replied as you leaned forward, making heeseung reach up to kiss your areola as best as he could.

“come on. you don’t wanna cum again?” heeseung asked in such a whiny voice that makes you snicker at how needy he has become. you decide to continue your teasing when you trail your nose along his face as you give a tiny kiss underneath his earlobe where you see the hickey you made on his clavicle. you move your hips so slowly as you feel how he becomes more erect even when he’s inside you.

“you’re the one who denies it yourself. i’m currently helping you here.” you poke your tongue and trace down his adam’s apple to his chest, reaching his nipple and giving it a suck. heeseung’s hip shoots up into you as he wants to take control. your hand moving closer to his palm with the grip that is getting loose as he pushes both his arms to let go of your hold. yet, you pull them back up as you reposition your fingers to interlock with his, withholding what he wants to make you move faster as he thrusts up into you.

you stare at how his doe-like eyes are begging for you after the number of times you have hated and feared the same eyes. how it glistens with tears because of how uncooperative you are even with your pace getting faster. with that, you lean forward as you stretch his hands and place them on your moving hips, letting them go so he can grip it hard as he tries to chase that feeling once again. you drape yourself above him as his blown-out eyes stare right at yours, his orange fiery flame meeting your own blue.

leaning forward more as you sensed one of his hands resting on your back, you brush away his hair that is sticking on his forehead as you whispered the death blow.

“you can cum in me-“

he leans up to connect your lips with his as you understand the signal, making your hips help to stimulate him more. his tongue flicking out and even wetting the skin around your lips as he moans out your name, letting out an exhale as your forehead is on his.

“want to breed you…” he whispered as you nodded, knowing just how much you like cum staining your walls as you give him a peck.

“breed me then.”

as he spoke to you about when he cums in your walls cowgirl style, you couldn’t help but snicker at the memories of his newly known breeding kink and your own creampie kink makes the resulting bun in your oven, making him flick your hand as you stare at him.

“that’s one for you and one for me- what are you thinking?” the way his voice pitches up at the end of the question makes you giggle even more.

“i swear-“ you lean forward as you realize the stage you are in, “the way our kinks create them,” you point down to your stomach.

“with the way your body shivers when i cum in you,” he said as he also leans forward. “i knew you like it. but i didn’t realize how feral you got because of that.”

“how feral we got, heeseung. fucking correct that.”

“oh fuck!” you moaned out into the mattress as heeseung held your hips up when he thrusts back into you from behind. you can sense how every time he pounds into you, his release is coming out alongside him as the wet clapping noises penetrate even the sound of both the cricketing bed frame and both of your moans. his hand goes up to your head and pulls your hair as the other pushes against your stomach, making you bend back towards him as the moans you let out of your mouth are clearer. his lips sucking another hickey onto your shoulder as you lean your head back on him to widen his access. your hands gripping onto both of the hands that are now resting on your abdomen and one on your breast, respectively.

“who can make you feel like this?” the question triggering you right away.

“y-you.”

“say my name, baby,” he said as he kissed your cheeks, making you turn your head towards the side as you opened your eyes to meet his, continuing to pleasure you into oblivion.

“heeseung…”

“go on.” he squeezed your flesh and you bit your bottom lip.

“heeseung!”

the hand on your abdomen leaves to crawl to your nub as your free hand reaches up to his nape, letting you connect your lips with his as best as you can. your body doing gymnastics before it is overcome by your second wave of cum when heeseung stops and twist your upper body to connect both of your lips fully. with his hands enveloping you, you push both of your body down as you let him spoon you.

grinding your hips against him, you reached down to gather both your cums as you give it a lick, making heeseung groan as he helps you push against him. “fuck, (y/n), how are you still so tight?”

“only for you-“ you reply as you shift away, just wanting to kiss heeseung, but then you remember the rules. with your shoulder, you push heeseung so he lays back on the bed as you lie on top of him. your knees folding so you can put your heels on the mattress as you lift yourself up and down on his shaft. you push your hands against is so you can sit and let you see the messiness yourself: both of your thighs are now covered in whiteness as you continue, realizing how sticky your skins are against each other. instead of letting you observe the messiness, heeseung pulls your upper body back to his as he also folds his knees and pushes his heels to the bed, thrusting upwards and making the pace quicker.

both of your moans combine with each other as he rests his arms around your midriff so you can’t move away from him. your head tilts to look behind you at the way heeseung is closing his eyes. as the point of your nose touches his skin, he doesn’t hesitate to turn to you and brought your lips onto his as he gives a few sputtering thrusts before you felt him cumming in you once again, making you fuller than ever.

“and that’s another two for each of us,” you replied as heeseung let out a snicker.

“still a tie, huh?”

“yeah, but we decided on a tiebreaker, right?” he responded with a hum.

with how sweaty, sticky, and tired you both are, you decide to do a tiebreaker with you sitting on his lap in a lotus position. your breath meeting his as both of you work in tandem (with a little burst exerted once in a while) to make any of you cum first and declare to be the winner of this messed-up game you made. heeseung licks the skin below your neck and plays with your breasts as you let your fingers experiment with his nipples and the way your nails scratch against his back muscles. you know that both of you are exhausted because the only sound that comes out is the small moans and whines left over. you looked down to see the messy environment you made between both of your crotches, making you scoop it up as you lift your cum-covered forefinger to your mouth, sucking it in, before pulling heeseung’s head so you can let him taste both of you.

his wide eyes glance up at you as he puts on a show to make you turn on more, swirling his tongue around your middle finger as the hand that was holding your shoulder blade reaches to your face, making his thumb pressing against your bottom lip so you can suck it. your hips grind on him faster, bouncing a few times, as both of your moans are muffled by both of your fingers. pulling your finger back, a string of saliva connected it and his lips as you cup his cheek. heeseung bites his lip as he pulls the thumb out to see your swollen lips. as you stare at each other—thinking back to the past few hours that have gotten you here in this position—you sense something strange within you. something so unfamiliar when you stare at him than the other moments you blatantly glare towards him. with the way he glances around your face as he connects your forehead with his, you recognize he might have sensed the same things too.

you don’t remember who is the first one to reach out, but as both of your lips connect, you let yourself envelop him as he did you. both of you not stopping and helping each other out as both of you cum in quick succession. not letting go of each other’s lips as you both pull away slowly; looking at the string of saliva connecting both of you as you stare at each other.

“we don’t need to discuss that.”

“no, we don’t,”

both of you replied right after the other as you see heeseung looking away from you to glance at the window beside the table. you glance at the condensation forming on the glass of his americano before glimpsing towards the booth where he sat. a duffle bag beside his backpack; you guess it will be for his basketball practice, it is near the college basketball season after all. but as you glance up at the man himself—you notice how different he has been since you were children. the way he muscled up and the baby fat on his face sheds away from the amount of sports he has to consume weekly. but, with all the invisible scars you both inflicted on each other from then until now, you weigh in just how ridiculously complex your relationship is that you don’t know if he wants to agree with it or not.

“well, now that you know…” you started, rubbing your hand against your sweater paws, “you don’t have to contribute to their life.”

heeseung hums, turning back to look towards you with confusion written on his face.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to get involved in taking care of them. it’s hard enough to be a senior-year college student, let alone raising a baby. it’s my choice to keep them, so i have to take responsibility for that.” you grabbed the now lukewarm cup of tea as you take a sip from it, placing it gently on the small plate as you continued with, “especially knowing how complicated we are.” you use your forefinger to point between him and you.

the man’s face is hard to read. he jutted his lips, biting the inside of his cheek as you see him blink whilst looking towards you, trying to get a read on you as well. being 8 weeks pregnant, you just wanted the meeting to end because you have all the other things you need to organize: telling the girls about your pregnancy diets and symptoms, telling the university about them and maybe they could give you leeway with the tests and studies, setting up appointments for with the ob-gyn and the doula of your choice, and telling your parents.

your parents who knew heeseung’s parents.

this will be awkward as fuck to experience.

“and i wish we could have a truce for the next 40 weeks.” you said, already with an exasperated voice that seemed to even surprise heeseung. “with this lifelong rivalry going on and how both of us doesn’t even want it to stop, please just… give me a slack to take care of them as best as i could.”

when you expected heeseung to reply with an okay—knowing your status as an expecting mother to at least give you some slack—you were met with a piercing gaze instead. how he looks between your face and your hidden stomach behind the table. he rests his hand on the table when you watch him considering something, and you didn’t even fucking guess he will do what he does.

“no.”

“what?”

“no. there’s no truce.” he leans forward, recognizing the gaze in his eyes as you just want to punch it out of his face for even thinking about what he’s thinking.

“no fucking way you’re thinking about this.”

“why not, (y/n)? think you can’t take care of yourself enough for the baby?”

your palm is now against your forehead, brushing against your face as it trails down when you let out a groan, “you’re trying to make a rivalry on taking care of this baby…” you let out your guess as heeseung lets out his signature smirk and a voiceless ‘bingo’.

“how? they’re in me, heeseung.”

“by giving them good nutritious food, interacting with them, i don’t know. but i know from knowing you for years that you can’t take care of yourself, knowing you have three other roommates-“

“you also have three other fucking roommates. sheesh.” you shake your head as you lean back. “anything for the baby has to go through me first, you know? i can deny it if i want.”

“then we can argue who’s right. they’re my baby too and i have the right to be involved even if you don’t want to.” your phone vibrates after heeseung’s brash reply as you see the silent alarm of your next schedule of the day. you tug the strap of your bag to your shoulder and gulp the rest of your tea.

“whatever, i have another thing to do.”

“does it involve the baby?”

“no. unless you wanna join my research class.”

you stood up from the booth as you straightened your sweater down, making heeseung glance at your abdomen before looking back at your face. “just so you remember: i’m doing this for the baby, not you.”

rolling your eyes, you flip him the bird as you walk away from him to your only class of the day, making heeseung let out a strangled smile.

-

“what the- what do you mean?”

the game continues as the other three guys look towards heeseung who is obliterating them with his king dedede, the sound of the fighting comes from the tv of their living room apartment as his fingers nimbly move on the switch controller, making the other three characters fly from the platforms as the familiar “game!” announcement calls.

the boys are sitting in various ways; beomgyu and jeongin are on the floor and jimin is beside him. the soundtrack of the super smash bros ultimate is playing in the background as heeseung smiles.

“i’m gonna be a dad.”

jeongin, the closest to the main port of the switch, quits the game as beomgyu lets out another loud shout—outside of the game—and jimin, who is sitting besides him, shakes his body with outstretched arms.

“BROOO!” beomgyu rubs his hand across his long hair as he faces heeseung fully, who is regretting not recording the reaction of his best buddies about this.

“how does heeseung, who doesn’t even like hooking up, get someone pregnant?” jimin asks to himself but also to the others as jeongin now stands in front of him, shielding the tv from his sight.

“forget that. who did you knock up, lee heeseung?” jeongin cuts through as heeseung leans back against the headrest of the couch. a mix of expressions showing on his face cause he doesn’t know if he has to laugh, be angry, be sad, or what else. he lets out a sigh as he picks the right voice tone to tell them.

“it’s fucking (y/n).”

“okay, now hold on!”

jeongin jumps, shedding the stern aura that he just created a few seconds ago. heeseung glances down at beomgyu who has his jaw dropped with jimin gripping on heeseung’s shoulder very hard.

“SINCE WHEN DID YOU TWO HOOK U-“

“shush!” jimin stands up and covers his hand on jeongin’s mouth, not wanting another complaint from the neighbors both horizontally and vertically.

“when?” beomgyu asked jeongin’s questions concisely as heeseung glanced towards the sofa and the kitchen right beside the front door of their apartment.

“you remember the party that got busted by the police?”

“yoon keeho’s party?”

“yeah, that one.” jimin acknowledges beomgyu’s answer as heeseung continues.

“long story short, (y/n) was alone and i went past her, teasing her for seeing that her friends left her behind when the police showed. she was tipsy which she shows by how easily stumbles. so i dragged her with me to our apartment when we escaped. i don’t know where you guys were, but she’s gotten a bit too annoying so i have to sober her up. we talked, and the tension was just too…” heeseung remembers as he was the one reaching for your face, to tell you to shut the fuck up, but the tension melted away before both of you proposes the game that you did. “so, we did it. and she asked me to meet up this morning and told me the news.”

“and what are your thoughts?” jimin asks, making the high-stakes emotions lower as he lets his friend talk about what he is feeling.

well, for heeseung, shock was an understatement. when he heard you utter the three words to him as he asked you what makes you want to meet up, never did he expect that to come out. surely, he has a breeding kink, and he had expected that to happen. but you told him you’re leaving early to get a plan b pill. maybe it didn’t work, but he doesn’t want to assume much about your body. then, he can sense the hidden sheer happiness blossoming within him. he wanted to smile and give you a hug, but then he remembered that it was you. that outside of his bed that night, you didn’t see him as a friend.

for someone who doesn’t hook up with people, heeseung knows how the hook-up culture works. he had heard multiple women fucking his three roommates from within his room and he could use his noise-canceling headphones against them. people might presume he is picky—a basketball jock who stays hidden and doesn’t want to hook up with anyone unlike his younger teammates—but the level of comfort is different when he has to do it with someone he doesn’t know and that’s why he rather stayed away. you? well, you are an anomaly.

though close because of your upbringing, he doesn’t know you outside of what he knows. that you were the kid who broke his truck even after he said sorry for ruining your sandcastle at that playground. that you were the kid who pushed him to the floor back when you were 7. that you’re the girl who he competes with to get the most stickers and not letting go of the basketball even though he stole it from you correctly. that he saw you stealing the bread from his tray as he came back from the vending machine. that you were the one telling the vice principal his basketball club doesn’t need as much money as they do because of their successful run, not knowing that their assistant coach stole the winning money.

so when you decide to create walls from your words, try to spin it so he doesn’t have to care about his baby, he had to say no. it’s as if you’re trying to keep the baby to yourself and not letting him in even though it takes two to tango. so, he found the most relevant way: competing for who takes care of that baby the right way—even if they’re in you. he doesn’t even think far from that thought no matter how ridiculous it is as now he realizes what a logistical nightmare it’s going to be.

“you’re making a game out of taking care of your own child but not your baby mama?” jeongin questioned after hearing heeseung’s rambling about this.

“yup…” heeseung paused, a pregnant pause. “and i need all of your help.”

jimin’s face changes as he hears the way heeseung described his face, rubbing his palm against the creases forming on his forehead as he can’t comprehend how beomgyu easily accepts his role. jimin’s head perks up at heeseung calling his name.

“yo!” jimin replied.

“since you’re the only one out of us who has a direct connection to (y/n) through chaeryeong, you’ll be my eyes, okay? asked about (y/n), how she’s doing, and all that stuff.” heeseung nodded as he expectantly looked at the boy who stood beside jeongin.

“gotcha,” he replied, his eyes wide as heeseung turned towards jeongin.

“innie, you’re my source. find any article about pregnancy and what my role is gonna be as a dad. yadda yadda yadda. all that stu-“

“i do you one better, seung.” jeongin said as heeseung lifted his eyebrows at him, tilting his head.

“my mom is an ob-gyn doctor.”

-

“miss (y/n)!”

“wear this!”

there is sounds of pitter-patters all around you as you sense the weight getting heavier on your figure. a small cape hanging off your shoulders and a crooked crown on your head, you sit down cross-legged against a round table full of toy food and kitchen utensils. girls and boys alike sit on the chairs by the table with their own capes and crowns, playing around with their cups as they all have a tea party—with the other side of the room playing with legos.

“here is your tea and cake.” you see the girl beside you giving the plate of rubber cake and an empty tea cup.

“thank you, princess rami.” picking up the teacup into your hand, you let out a loud slurping noise to drink it, before flinching away as you fan your tongue.

“i’m so sorry. is it too hot?” rami asked as you shook your head.

“i’m okay. thank you for asking,” you replied as best as you could.

“you must be careful, princess rami.” the boy across from her spoke as you tilt your head to him.

“i’m alright. prince yujin. i will be more careful with the tea.” he gave out a smile as one girl called out.

“if we are all princes and princesses, how should we call miss (y/n)?” hyunseo asked across from you.

“well, miss (y/n) should be a queen!” woonhak replied enthusiastically.

“but if miss (y/n) is a queen, should she have a king?” hyunseo continued.

“or another queen. i have two queens at home.” yujin filled in as you gave off a smile with the implication. but then the kids started to bicker with each other as you looked around the room once again.

as you entered high school, you were determined to beat heeseung in another way other than school-related activities. and what other way by being independent and richer than him at a young age? so you raked your head of a simple work that can help you gain more pocket money when one of your aunts asks you if you can babysit their daughter and how she will pay you. seizing the opportunity, you get to take care of your baby cousin as you go to your aunt’s home to help her with her food and stuff. hearing your enjoyment by the dining room table, your mom suggests more opportunities to babysit children of your family members from both sides—to your youngest uncle’s 4-year-old son and your oldest cousin’s 6-month-old baby—you have an array of skills gotten from doing childcare as your mom recommend you to babysit her juniors’ children at work, making you who wanted it for the money now wants it for the children.

it needs a certain level of charisma to charm a child so they can listen to you and with the array of children you had to babysit, you’ve met and adapted as best as you can to all of them. from being the calm tutor for a baby who is training his motor skills to help a child practice balancing on a bicycle, you understand what a child wants under their tantrums. that love you give and the love you accept makes you want to contribute more to childcare. so you started volunteering in non-formal schools and orphanages, helping to at least make their days a little better. and that’s why you worked part-time as a daycare attendant since you entered university as it is a more established institution where you can shuffle your study schedule alongside your work schedule, meeting kids who are being sent here that are still younger than school age. it reminded you of your own childhood and you’re hoping that your inner child could be happy and satisfied that you let her feel that feeling again.

“guys…” your spoken voice cuts their conversations, and they all turn to you. “a queen doesn’t have to have a king or another queen by their side. a queen can stand alone too.”

“but wouldn’t that make the queen lonely?” rami questioned, making you pout your lips as you still can’t comprehend just how blatantly honest children are that it pierces through each layer of your heart to find the right spot.

“yes, the queen will be lonely. but she also has her princes, princesses, knights, counselors, and more around her. love doesn’t always come from one person, it can also come from a group.” you replied, making the group rowdy up as they converse about love and being independent—well, ‘lonely’ as they called it—when you feel a light pat on your shoulder.

turning your head, you see a younger girl other than those around the table holding a paper, stretching it towards you.

“for you, miss (y/n)…”

you slowly pick the paper from her small hands as you observe the drawing. a simple figure made of circles and triangles with different colors. a pink filled-in shape on one side of the triangle with the circle-shaped and another taller one holding the figures hand, a yellow crown-shaped drawing on top of a circle with a smiling face inside.

she drew you.

“awww. this is so sweet and nice.” you return to look at the younger girl, a warm smile showing on your face, “thank you, hyein.” you rub your hand on her hair—something you remember she likes—as her smile widens before she runs away towards her table, where she has a few more papers scattered.

you glance at her before looking at your own stomach, unconsciously rubbing it as you can feel your own child inside you now growing along with time. then, it all came so suddenly when you felt yourself regurgitating, hand coming up to your mouth as you stood up as fast as you could towards the staff bathroom. knocking open the door of the open stall, you kneeled down as you puke out your lunch for today, feeling your gag reflexes kicking in. you sensed a hand soothing down your back as you reached for the flush to drain it down the toilet bowl.

“you okay, (y/n)?” you hear the familiar voice of your supervisor, yoonah, behind you. nodding your head, you reach for the toilet paper and tear it apart as you wipe the remains and saliva off your lips. reaching for the crown that fortunately doesn’t fall when you puke your inside, you hold on to it as you stand up and veer around to the sink to clean your mouth, gargling and spitting out as you wipe the droplets of water from your lips.

“how is it going with the pregnancy?” she asked as you watched her reflection behind yours in the mirror. you nodded your head and chuckled.

“didn’t vomit for the past three days and i thought that was enough, and well, here i am.” you stare at your face, seeing your eyes glistening with tears with the number of times you had to cough out until your phlegm came out. you turn your head to face your boss as she gives you a solemn smile.

“so, i have already talked to hr and we agree to have you reduce your work day to just one per week. you can enter anytime between the weekdays depending on your schedule because you have lots of things to juggle with your ob-gyn appointment. we don’t want to weigh you down more.”

you looked sideways when yoonah didn’t seem to see you being glad of it. though it helps with not exerting your body—as per doctor park’s request—it will definitely reduce your money because of the appointments and others. you haven’t told your parents yet and maybe you can ask them for more money after but with the way your friends have already helped ease your part of the rent so you have enough money for your own diet and consultations; you don’t want them to provide more for you.

“that’s great and all, but what about my pay? can it be adjusted? it doesn’t have to be 200%. like, do I only work one day for a pay of two like usual? or is it the regular one day pay? if it’s the latter, maybe a 25% increase will be great? for the consultations and others…” you said, not realizing that you had a few stray tears leaving out your eyes. nice fucking job, hormones.

yoonah picks up the crown from your head and she places it above your head, straightening it up as it rests right at the top of your head, “i will take about it to hr. you know that i’m on your side with this.” she pats your shoulder as you let out a faint “thank you” and see her walking away out of the bathroom. you brushed the tears away as you wet your hands to help unswollen them, even if it is for a bit. staring at yourself in the mirror, you pull your body up straight as you turn sideways, rubbing your abdomen as you can feel the life being put into you; piece by piece, cell by cell, forming into a human being.

as your feet enter the room one by one, tons of footsteps greet you as you look down to see the crown-wearing kids you are playing tea time with approaching you. their faces showing weariness so explicitly that you feel your heart tugging at them.

“are you ok, miss (y/n)?” hyein—the first one to be there—spoke as she was surrounded by kids taller and older than her. you notice someone holding onto your hand with their tiny one, seeing rami brushing the skin as you feel soothed.

“i am now. thank you, hyein,” you replied, letting your body fall as you kneeled before them, seeing the number of children you have taken care of for the years you had worked here. in your mind, it seemed ridiculous to think of your next move, but in a way that they have taught you so much about taking care of others, it’s proper to tell them yourself.

wiping the corner of your eyes as you feel your hormones acting up again, you speak, “what do you know about your moms?”

“mommy is very sweet to me,” hyunseo replies as she steps forward to stand next to hyein, their height difference looking so cute.

“mom is the one that picked me up from here.” woonhak also replied when you can see his mom’s smile on his own from the number of times she picked him up and showed that same smile.

“both of my mamas are the best in taking care of me and my brothers.” yujin added as there were more children rambling about their mothers, creating a wall of cacophony that seemed more like the background noise you heard each week as you worked. their voices dwindled as you looked expectantly at them one by one, a smile urging them to wait for something to come out of you.

“well, you see, i’m going to be just like your moms.”

yujin was the one that caught on first as he stepped closer and hugged you. while the others still looked confused, he turned around to looked at them and state it himself.

“MISS (Y/N) IS GOING TO BE A MOM!”

“miss (y/n)!”

“no wa-“

you heard the surge of children hugging you as you laughed out loud, seeing yoonah by the door as she also followed your laughter while you were surrounded by the children who were either hugging you or asking you questions.

“settle down, children. miss (y/n) needs a space to take a breather.” yoonah spoke up as she approached you who has a grin on your face.

“you said that you don’t have any king or queen?” yujin said as you felt your cheeks getting warmer, he now held onto the crown that slipped down your head from the number of kids that is surrounding you. while you could feel a hand on your stomach as you looked down to see hyein sitting down—remembering that she also has a pregnant mother with a little sibling on the way for her.

“it, it will be hard for me to explain it to you, but…” you felt yoonah’s hand on your shoulder as you glance at the closest clock in the room—finding the time for them to go home has come. “your moms are waiting for you to go home.”

you push yourself up to stand as yoonah guides the kids to pick their items up by the cabinets as you stand up straight, seeing the children walking around you when you see rami stepping beside you, arms wide open as you crouch down to give her a hug. you felt other sets of arms surrounding you as you giggled, pulling away your arms as the children noticed it.

“i’ll see you all next week!” you stated as yoonah brought all of them to the door of the daycare before opening them, seeing all of them going to their respective parents and guardians as a few of them acknowledged you. you turned around as you started your usual clean-up process, picking up the drawings that the children made and putting them in their own folders so you can give them to their guardians when they graduated, putting back the toys into the boxes, returning the costumes back to the wardrobe as you place the robe and crown you were also wearing, and you wanted to do one more thing, but you heard someone clearing their throat.

“i’ll clean the furniture and floor. you have done so much and you needed to eat and rest.” yoonah told you as you sighed, knowing that you seemed to be hungrier after you vomited out your food.

“thanks, boss.” you winked as she chuckled, bringing yourself to the staff room with the drawing that hyein gave to you—pinning in your mind to collect it with the drawings the kids you’ve taken care has made for you.

when collecting your things into your backpack, you glance at the paper that you printed out from your laptop as you scan the words, seeing your inked signature on the bottom as you see the blank space with the name right across from yours. heeseung’s name.

since he decided to be involved—you remembered while you talked to your faculty about your pregnancy and how they asked who the dad was, you decided to bring him up as a “student from another faculty.” it might make him think twice if he wants to be involved or not because he will get his name pin up on a note somewhere, which will be noted to his coach, lecturers, and more of his status. you are ready to be mentally burnt by the judgment your peers might give you, but is heeseung also ready?

you haven’t thought of the way you’re going to give heeseung the letter when you see minjeong’s name from your vibrating phone as you pick up the things you are bringing home and you hear yoonah talking as she sees you already leaving.

“carpool picking you up?”

“yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend.”

“okay, take care of yourself and i’ll follow up with your request.” you felt yoonah giving you a side hug as you gave a smile and wave when you pushed the door open. you breathed in the outside air to see the dark gray chevrolet camaro parked near the front of the building. walking to the back seats, you opened the door to be met with the music playing as minjeong greeted you.

“how’s work, (y/n)?” she instantly asked as sungchan lurched the car to a drive when you glanced at the bags of things beside you.

“freaking embarrassing. i vomited suddenly when i hadn’t vomited for the last 3 days but the kids reacted to it pretty okay. and i told them i’m gonna be a mom.”

“that’s so sweet!” she said, glancing back from her seat in front of you as she reached to touch you, making you sit in the middle with the console right in front of you as you see sungchan’s playing with the volume of bluetooth-connected car radio play the song that sounds so minjeong—which you can recognized right away.

“what did you guys do today?” you wiggled your eyebrows as you heard sungchan’s laugh from the way he looked at you from the rear-view mirror.

“you know what me and jeongie usually do, eat, shop, fuck, repeat-“

“no, we didn’t fuck today-“

“we did a quickie before we left to pick (y/n) up, winter.”

“okay! ughhh…” minjeong said, rubbing her face in embarrassment before replying, “i brought him to this cafe that has all these criterion collections that aren’t available on any of the streaming services we own. so i bought so many dvds for us to watch.”

“which are?”

“older movies, foreign movies. you did say that you enjoyed watching japanese movies, so i bought some of them for us to watch.”

“fuck, i love you so much for that, kim minjeong.” you replied as you heard sungchan’s little tsk, making you both giggle as his possessiveness is showing at the most ridiculous time.

“so, (y/n),” you hummed to sungchan’s starter words, “you haven’t told me who is your baby daddy.”

“guess!” you tugged yourself forward as your face was between their seats.

“how should i guess when i never see you hook up with people?” he replies as you glance at minjeong who is just watching him, an amused smile on her face.

“what if i say it’s song eunseok,” you mentioned his fellow frat bros.

“eunseok is dating that junior of his he has classes with. and he’s a loyal guy so i don’t think so.”

“what about park jisung? he’s hot in my eyes.”

“you don’t seem to be the kind to hook up with your junior,” he replied, making you squint your eyes.

“zhong chenle? he’s a fellow biz major like i do.”

“you’re definitely not his style.”

“now, that’s rude.” you hunch yourself back on the back seat as minjeong’s giggles compete with the music playing.

“you’re gonna be so shocked if we told you who he is.” she added as you nodded along, “two hints though: he’s our age and he’s a fellow jock-“

“that’s too much, jeong-ah.” you cover her mouth as her muffled nagging rings in the car. you can feel her lapping your palm, tickling your nerves and making you pull away as it’s now sungchan’s turn to have a giggling fit while watching his girlfriend and her roommate bickering. the trip was close between the daycare you work and the apartment tower you rented off-campus—but since you’ve mentioned to your roommates that you’ve been having back pain and vomiting sessions, they decided to help you out by being by your side as they drop you off or picking you up—just like what chaeryeong did as she drop you off to work before going to the dance studio.

so, when you stare out to see the small lobby of your apartment, you’re already with your backpack tucked to you as you open the door of the backseats. sungchan helped widen the door for you before going to the other side to help minjeong with the things she bought from their date. as you stood by the tiled floor of the lobby, minjeong gave sungchan one last kiss on the lips as you heard him say, “bye, babe! bye, (y/n) and hope you rest!”

“see you next week, baby.” the girl said as both you and her are waving your hands at the boy, who has entered the car driving off into the ending sunset of today. stepping inside the entrance of the apartment, you and she enter the empty elevator as you catch a glimpse at what other things minjeong had bought when you see a box from a chicken fast food brand, making your mouth water as you think about it, but you knew that you’ll be nag by dr. park for eating junk food.

pushing the handle after you put the pin on the keypad, you enter and instantly kick your shoes off as you are met with ryujin who is tying her hair up, walking towards you as she helps with minjeong’s bags. the apartment was left as you remembered this morning: a few scattered papers from either you or ryujin’s homework, the weighted blanket by the sofa now folded, and the smell of hot choco on the coffee table alongside ryujin’s laptop as you remembered that she only has online classes today.

“what did you bring?” ryujin wiggled her eyebrows as she rummaged open the bag that you’d seen when she instantly brought it to the kitchen counter when you saw her already cooking something. out of all four of you, you and ryujin are the ones talented in cooking so it’s not a surprise to see her cook for herself, but when you see the large plate that is places beside where the stove is, you know she has been making dinner for all four of you—as only chaeryeong’s the one who is not finished with her work today.

“why did you bring back fast food, minjeong? we promised to also have (y/n)’s diet.”

“that’s my leftover. chan said that the boys had too much stuff in their fridge so i brought it to us.” you then felt minjeong’s hand behind your lower back as she stood beside you, “hope you are okay with that.”

“of course, i’m okay.” you give minjeong a smile. “all of you aren’t obliged to follow my diet cause i know you love red meat, jinnie.”

“it feels wrong if i don’t follow you, though.” ryujin replied as you and minjeong go to your separate ways—she walked to her room while you stepped into the kitchen to see the food that minjeong brought. the chicken was a leftover but you also see her bringing back different meats and seafood.

“i almost forgot to ask you, but can you give me the list of the food that you can and can’t eat? just so i can help with the recipes and so we can pre-made food.” ryujin said as she put her arms behind your back, soothing you as you viewed her making japchae and beef on the pan.

“will do, ryu.” you give her a salute as she gives your cheek a squeeze before you let her be. taking your bag handle as you step towards the direction of your room, the bell of your apartment rings as ryujin turns towards you, making both of you tilt your head as you volunteer to get to the intercom.

when you press the button, the screen shows you someone you don’t expect to see as you can recognize the wolf cut hair you’ve seen while scrolling on your instagram. your footsteps immediately go to the door as you hear the ringing “hello”s from the intercom, opening it up to see the boy you’re trying your best to mask your feelings for with a box.

“heyya, (y/n)!” he replied as you widened the door to gaze at the box.

“h-hi beomgyu.” you give him a small smile as you try your best not to lock your eyes on him. to be having a crush on a boy like him is ridiculous, especially knowing that he is your RIVAL’s best friend. and the fact that you still have a crush on him since high school to then be found being in the same uni as him. if he doesn’t have heeseung by his side, you know you will brace yourself to approach him first. but now with his success as an indie musician, you know you are probably in a losing battle knowing just how spicy heeseung talks about you knowing that he has so many fans aiming at him and how you can’t compete with them—not as much as yeonjun though.

“wha, what’s this?”

“it’s for you.” he pushed the box towards you as you tried to peek inside when you felt a presence behind you.

“let me get that.” another pair of hands open by your side and you see the smirk on beomgyu’s face falter to see ryujin pulling the box against her.

“hi ryujin,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice as you finally be able to look at him with your heart eyes before back at ryujin.

“beomgyu,” she replied before leaving the door to put the box away. you eye the boy who is staring at the empty space for a few seconds too late before you are back in his attention, returning to the cheeky smile you adore.

“thank you for that!” you felt your palms getting sweatier than ever, rubbing one of them against the door to dry it.

“you gotta have to thank heeseung for that.”

the way beomgyu named he-who-shall-not-be-named shutters your fantasy as you were met with the reality. of course, it’s from heeseung, not from the boy you had a crush on—even if it means that the baby daddy trusts his best friend so much to tell him that he is having a baby with his rival. beomgyu seemed to be the nicer guy between the two. so, a girl can hope, right?

“oh yeah, wait for a minute!” you were so caught up in the way heeseung terrors you and slips back into your mind and how you wanted to slam the door when you heard his name when you remembered the paper that he had to sign. you pull the paper out of your folder as you pull one of your sticky notes and write a simple note to him. giving a smile to beomgyu, you handed him the paper as he stared at the words printed on it.

“give it to heeseung and send it back to me after that, or if he wants to submit it himself, then that’s fine. i have to give the contact person the info if he decides to send the paper to the administration himself.”

beomgyu nods as he chuckles at your note before giving a last “i will” before walking and waving away, making you close the door as you wonder how did he know where you lived. eh, that’s fine. you got to see what heeseung gave you as the box rested on top of the counter right beside ryujin who was pouring the japchae into the bowl.

slowly opening it—scared that he might have a jack-in-the-box mechanism inside it—you were met with plastics covering greens as you tugged a few of them out to be met with a bunch of fruits and vegetables still packed in their grocery’s packing. your shoulder meets ryujin’s as she took a glimpse at the new ingredient you picked out of the box.

“from beomgyu?”

shaking your head, you feel a piece of paper inside the box as you pinch it between your fingers. straighten the creases, you see the scribbles on the note as you read it in your mind.

eat them for the baby’s health and your own sanity - lhs

“heeseung,” you replied after you finish. ryujin gives a small hum as you catch the smirk on her face before you shove her with your shoulder. both of you open the plastics of the greens, vegetables, and fruits that heeseung bought for you, ryujin saying out loud the names of the greens as you and her bounce ideas of what kind of food she can make to cater to your diet.

“kale, cabbage, broccoli…” she picked another vegetable, carefully pulling away the plastics as the waft of the smell entered the kitchen. you knew of the vegetable, but being pregnant equals being sensitive to smells. and the way that you instantly wretch at the smell makes you scurry away from ryujin.

“hey, who rang the be-“

minjeong was pushed away as she saw you opening the door of their shared bathroom, making her turn around as she heard you wretch out the remaining food and saliva inside of you that is followed immediately by a flush from the toilet bowl. she walked to the kitchen to see ryujin holding stems of leaves on her hand.

“well, now we know she can’t eat arugula.”

the chime of the lock unlocked rings alongside the opening of the door of their apartment as ryujin and minjeong stare at it, seeing chaeryeong trying to breathe as she takes off her sneakers.

“WHY IS JIMIN PESTERING ME ABOUT (Y/N)?”

-

thumps and squeaks are what beomgyu heard as his eyes gazed at the lights coming out of the gymnasium. his feet working in tandem echoing through the night as he took another glance at the paper, another step away from the door as he pulled the handle to see a bunch of boys running around the wood-floored gym. beomgyu’s eyes searched for heeseung as he bit his lips, not wanting to be late for his own band practice with the boys.

turning towards the bleachers, he’s seen one of the boys that beomgyu remembered being on heeseung’s profile. his hands on top of his knees as he leans forward to see the 3 x 3 half court game beomgyu realized isn’t a part of training—but more of them having fun. he is taking a glimpse at heeseung who is muttering a curse word under his breath because the ball was stolen from his hold.

“hey, uh, sheep!”

the boy turns towards beomgyu with squinting feline-esque eyes before they widen, realizing who called him.

“your jersey has ‘yang’ on it. so i called you sheep.”

“nah, that’s okay. you’re beomgyu hyung, txt’s guitarist…�� the boy stands up, their height almost the same as each other, but beomgyu knows that the kid can grow taller—from both basketball and his unfinished puberty phase, probably.

“i’m jungwon! i’m guessing you’re here for heeseung hyung?”

beomgyu glanced down at the paper as he nodded, “i couldn’t stay until he finished cause i have band practice. so, this document is for him to sign.” he told jungwon what you told him as his ghost patted himself on his shoulders for being right. beomgyu uses his thumbs to point behind him after jungwon picks up the paper that he pushed towards him and gives him a thumbs up before a loud "thank you" rings as the gymnasium door opens, leaving jungwon with a slight chuckle creeped out of his lips.

the boy couldn’t stop his curiosity as he turned the paper so he could read the writing, skimming it down as his eyebrows as he couldn’t stop his speech before it was too lat-

“HEESEUNG HYUNG IS A DAD?!”

jungwon’s shout makes movement screech to a halt as he looks up at his boys, also staring at heeseung, who is glaring at jungwon and the paper he is holding. but, his reaction speed was too slow to pull it off his grips as heeseung lost against the other five boys who had huddled towards jungwon.

“shut up!” sunoo exclaimed.

“it’s true, sun,” jongseong replied as he could hear jaeyun and riki screaming and laughing before they scurried to run around heeseung.

“who is this (y/n), hyung?” jaeyun speaks into his ear, making heeseung grimace as the three walk towards the crowd with sunghoon now holding onto the paper.

“isn’t (l/n)(y/n) your senior, jjong?” sunghoon calls out, making said boy read carefully the name with the signature on top.

“oh yeah! we had a marketing communication class together. didn’t know you knew her, hyung.”

heeseung steps in between them as he snatches the paper out of sunghoon’s grip in a quick frame. his eyes scan the paper that is written—the letter to the university administration about your status—and he can see his name printed on the side of the paper from yours. then, he finally read the note you have sticking onto the paper.

sign it and give it to the administration office. if you’re serious.

“won, it’s your turn to play,” he said as the boys stared at him. “i have things to do, plus i have a morning class tomorrow.”

“okay, hyung.” jungwon’s answer was followed by his offer to the older boys to continue the match as he felt another hand holding onto his forearm, turned to see the youngest boy with a small smile on his face.

“you gotta have to let us meet this (y/n) noona. i bet she’s pret-“

“go back to your place, riki-kun. jake’s calling for you.”

“hey, lanky. come on before i make you and jungwon switch.” jaeyun’s voice penetrates through the conversation at the correct moment as the smirk on heeseung’s face is growing. they’re leaving him alone as he walks towards his backpack and duffle bag—finally feeling the surging soreness from pushing himself hard while training and off-training. sure, it’s excessive. but the tournament is a month away from now, and he had to train for that, knowing that the matches would be back-to-back if he passed the quarter-finals.

the wood of the bleachers screeches beneath his body as he pulls out his pen, staring at the paper one last time—trembling breaths coming out from him. who knew that a single signature could hold so much power?

yet with how you are trying to deter him, to remind him that signing this will mean that the whole university will now know lee heeseung is a future father: that actually made him shake. he could feel the boiling anxiousness giving a few pumps of steam into his mind, clouding the plans he had already made in his mind from the information jeongin told him. he knows the future scenarios on both sides.

but fuck it, right? he’s not usually caring about what other people perceive. so what if he is known as a dad in nine months? but, he had to think about the parental leave you’re proposing—it might actually make him graduate late.

yet, the view is clear as he lets his pen glide on the paper.

the baby and your scowling face as you realize that his doing is the one that makes that baby so healthy.

tucking the paper in between his laptop and his wireless earbuds on his ears, he waves goodbye to the boys who are playing with sunoo giving a beautiful lay-up before he pushes the door to get out of the gym. the streetlights shining the pathways as he still can see students roaming around the campus at night—most are going to the library to maybe pull an all-nighter.

the screen illuminates his face as he scrolls down at the text jimin had sent him about you. but he had to do another victory lap first when he dialed the generic full name’s number.

“hello?”

“that will not work, (y/n).”

heeseung heard the grainy chuckle in his ear as he let his muscles’ memories take him home in the night's dark. eyes staring at the path that opens up onto the sidewalk where sparse vehicles are going about on the asphalt streets.

“so you sign it?” he caught the way you sigh against your phone while heeseung is focusing on both the conversation and what jimin texted about your condition.

“and i’ll be giving it to the office.”

“hmm, okay…” heeseung’s eyes scan through the words, letting his face contort and relax as he consumes it to his mind before it’s broken by a grainy sound of metal from your end.

“also, thanks, by the way. for the arugula. made me vomit my stomach out.” heeseung heard you reply as it slowly became more mumbled, hearing you eating your dinner’s food as the noises of the night came back into his cochlea, shaking his nerves as only white noises entertained him as he looked around—seeing his apartment building at the distance.

“and don’t make jimin ask chaeryeong about me again. she’s traumatized now and we have each other’s number saved.”

heeseung didn’t want to save your number at first. but when his mom brought him to her meeting with your mom, catching up after a long time and discussing that both of you have been accepted by the same university, they insisted that you both to have each other’s numbers saved. “for emergency sake, so you both have each other to rely on.” his mom explained, making him discreetly roll his eyes while you continue to listen to your music without giving a glance to him. yet, you’re the one that gave him your phone first so he can type his number, making a small “:p” the first thing you text to him.

“i’ll tell him.” he clicked his tongue as he caught the way you omit another information from him.

“but you’re not gonna tell me you have a doctor’s appointment next week?”

“how’d you kno-“

“jimin, from chaeryeong, and so, from you.” his smile gets bigger. “gotta have to thank jimin for that one.”

“so you want to join? what if you have a class?”

heeseung’s feet brought him to the lobby of his apartment building, his vision now on the elevator as he stated something so obvious to him.

“i have questions and i rather miss class than leave it unanswered.”

-

your hands are tugged inside your hoodie’s front pocket as you wait for your name to be called. the usual soreness is tamed as you let chaeryeong massage your back carefully, relaxing most of the tender muscles that are holding you up. you can see a little bump protruding out of your stomach that was not there when you discovered you were pregnant in week 8.

remembering the way you have to buy five pregnancy tests is ridiculous when your only symptoms are headaches and vomiting. but it quickly escalates to morning sickness and how you notice just how sensitive your senses have become—the way your fingers realize little grains of crayon as you pick up the kids’ drawing to how you’re triggered by little noises coming out off your room. it feels too strange for it to be food poisoning and with all five tests showing two blue stripes: all the problems you have faced for the past month—why your period is late, the morning sickness—all click inside your mind.

your girls were the first ones you spoke to, recalling how they waited in front of your shared bathroom as you flipped the tests around, hitting you one by one with the truth of your condition. then tears start to show as overwhelming emotions compete to show dominance and you hear chaeryeong’s voice from behind the knocks on the door. you open the door to feel them hugging you as you show them the tests, how they can’t wait to be your baby’s cool aunts from differing perspectives as they know of your history related to children, pregnancy, and motherhood from taking care of so many children, how your parents open up to you about why they couldn’t give you a younger sibling, and the responsibility you are willing to take care for them. at that moment they hugged, you’ve already fallen in love with your baby and you are determined to let them have a happy life.

the obstetrics and gynecology department’s walls were more pastel than the other parts of the hospital. maternity pack posters hanging as you read the words, planning your next steps as you waited by the door to your doctor. your fingers interlocked and thumbs twirling around each other as you attentively listen to the open door and your name being called. scouring your eyes around, you saw a little playground area for kids barren as you eyed the small set, mothers around you waiting also for their appointment—some with a sleeping baby in their hands, another with a large bump. the atmosphere is so serene that you can collect your thoughts and arrange them for the next seven months from your due date.

“hey, (y/n).”

your eyes blink as you turn around in your seat to face forward once again, looking up to find the familiar face you’ve been thinking about for the past few days.

heeseung wears a simple hoodie like you do, both of his hands tucked into the front pocket as the strap of his bag crosses his chest. a thin-lipped smile on his face as you didn’t see his usual resting bitch expression.

“heeseung…” you reply as you gnaw on the inside of cheek as he stands there, “i haven’t gotten the call from the doctor yet. so you can sit down.” your eyes glance quick at the vast space beside yours on the sofa you are also sitting down. he gave a quick nod before sitting on the space beside yours, a noticeable space between the two of you as you both lean more against each of the tables placed as the barriers between the sofas. even if you felt a piercing presence beside you, you tried your best not to look at him. the phone call when he called you was the last time you spoke with your voice to him—you having small talk with him as he found in the hospital doesn’t really count—yet he still gave you another box of ingredients for your unborn child this week, no arugula this time.

well, you are glad to see beomgyu more and you don’t mind seeing beomgyu every week if he’s the one that does heeseung’s errands for his child.

both of you stare forward at the doors and wall in front of you, nearing mirroring each other even by the slight twitch of both of you wanting to look at each other. but, also not really. the tension is stronger than when you told him you’re pregnant with his child. the fucking effects of the continued declaration of rivalry as you can calculate how far both of you are willing to push even for the past week and you can guess what you both will push more for the next 7 months.

“miss (l/n) (y/n)?” the door opened as the nurse spoke of your name making you jump up from your seat as heeseung followed behind you to enter the doctor’s room.

“(y/n)!” the young doctor said enthusiastically as you sat down on the chair in front of the desk.

“doctor park!” you answered, cadence matched hers.

“how have you- oh.” dr. park looks at the man entering behind you, looking between the three women in the room and the empty chair near the door before he hears her speak, “is this the dad?”

“yes, i’m the dad, lee heeseung,” he replied steadily as dr. park, who is standing up, shoots her hand out to him.

“i’m dr. park jihyo, (y/n)’s ob-gyn doctor. didn’t expect to meet you as (y/n) said that the dad might not be involved.”

heeseung’s eyebrows were raised, chortling as he realized what you implied, “after she told me, i decided to be involved.” his eyes peek from the side to see you giving a stare with no movements on your lips, sitting down on the chair beside of yours as you want to continue with your appointment.

“well, welcome to your tenth week of being pregnant. how are you feeling?” dr. park asks, looking at you with a warm smile as you see the nurse taking care of your document.

“the morning sickness kinda gets pretty worse and overflows out of the morning. definitely more sensitive towards scent, flavor, and texture. i also have already sensed growth on the bump since it is a bit more protruding than usual.” your hand unconsciously caresses the hoodie covered in your stomach, feeling the tenderness of the skin that is just muscles of your abdomen being pushed to cater to the baby.

“your stomach and intestines are being pushed by the uterus as the fetus grows and it’s very normal. since we already did the blood and urine test and went over your family history back in your first appointment, we can go to an ultrasound to check the growth of your baby.” dr. park replied as she nodded at the nurse who instantly walked to the bed and set things up for your scan.

“i’m sorry to bother you, doctor. but i have a question.”

your head shifts towards heeseung as he asks, the doctor just giving him a nod.

“(y/n) said to me she’ll get a plan b pill after our… time. yet, she still got pregnant, but isn’t that still supposed to work?” the way his voice pitches makes you hold on to a smile, recalling to when you asked the doctor the same question in your first appointment. you gave the doctor a big nod for her signal.

“well, (y/n) said to me she consumed a plan b pill less than 24 hours after your intercourse. but plan b pill, or levonorgestrel, works by delaying the release of the egg from the ovaries. she also said that her period, which started around a week or two weeks before she discovered she was positive, was late. so, we can assume that while you two have sex, (y/n) was already in her early stages of ovulation with the egg being released into the fallopian tube and the egg got fertilized.”

heeseung nods along with the doctor’s words as you remember the same explanation given to you in the previous meeting. you’ve tried using pills before but you know it will affect your hormone and physical health in the long run—you are not a serial fucker unlike a few people you recognize—so you rely on protection like condoms and morning-after pills right after that. heeseung not wearing one makes you want to laugh at how funny the scenario is and how you can just remain rivals for the rest of your life if you remind him to put on the rubber.

the nurse calls for as you follow her, stepping out of your shoes as you lay down on the bed. she gently brushes your hoodie up as your skin is exposed while she also pulls the band of your pants down below right above your underwear line. the chairs move as you glance at heeseung following dr. park as she takes the seat beside you to check on the machinery. the liquid is cold as it touches your skin as your eyes catch heeseung who is looking at the exposed stomach where his unborn child is.

as the transducer spread around the gel on the stomach when you feel it pressed down, you looked at the screen across from you hanging on the ceiling as the doctor moved around, marking the size of your uterus. you heard her gasp as you turned to look at her warm smile that widens into a grin.

“congratulations to you both!” she replied as she continued to move the transducer around, making you and heeseung realize that there’s a fetus inside you, but not just one.

“TWINS?!”

-

2. katana-like knife

heeseung gazes at the ultrasound he is holding with both hands, seeing the way the doctor has assigned twin 1 and twin 2 on the screen. the twins are in different sacs; he remembered what the doctor said, making them fraternal twins. she also says that not only you were ovulating when you two fuck, but you were releasing two different eggs around the same time and he got both of them pregnant.

he recalled both of you doing a hilarious staring contest as you couldn’t stop yourself from making funny faces as the doctor described the growth of your twins. fucking heck, he hadn’t told his friends that he was having twins. how his body trembles as the realization hits him while he’s looking at his babies—yes, plural—makes him even want to be more attentive, to now realize that he had two to take care of. and those two make him know you have to adjust your diet once again.

if it weren’t for him buying ingredients, he doesn’t think you would adapt easily to what the babies need. he’s won on this occasion. but what comes next?

his phone vibrates on the table as he takes a glimpse of the text message showing on the lit-up screen.

(l/n) (y/n): i’m heading home for the weekend. my parents will definitely see that i’ve been knocked up.

even he can see it as he had walked past you before on campus. you’re now wearing more oversized clothing pieces—t-shirts, hoodies, cardigans—as he realized the slight bump on the surface of them. it’s been over two weeks since that check-up appointment and the growth has been faster than he expected.

(l/n) (y/n): not asking you to join me.

(l/n) (y/n): if you aren’t brave enough to take the consequences, i’m fucking winning this :p

“that’s it” he shakes his head as he tugs the ultrasound picture into his wallet before putting it back in its place, hands opening the messages.

lee heeseung: threatening much. i’m in.

if you want to make this a competition, let’s make this a competition.

lee heeseung: hey mom. sorry for texting you randomly. but i’m going back home for the weekend.

all he had to do was wait, as he could hear the sound of his mom talking with your mom on the phone about how their children would be home together, asking to meet up.

and that moment goes exactly as he had expected as he drove the car with you in the passenger seat, leaning against the door as you both let the radio play boring-ass repeating pop songs from some random radio station. none of you seem to react, just to make each other annoyed enough to know who will concede and connect to bluetooth first—even not listening to good-ass music is a competition between you both.

you sighed extra loud as you listened to an old-ass pop song from the mid-2010s the radio seemed to have a lifetime contract for it to play for fucking ever. you wish you were the one driving now, but you didn’t bring your car for this semester because it needed maintenance and you were in a healthier mood for this year. you catch a look at your phone, seeing your mom asking where you are right now as auntie lee has arrived at your home—cooking up the food for all your family to enjoy.

“which one is your car’s bluetooth?” you gave up on hearing the radio station as you playfully checked every menu to find the bluetooth menu.

“the brand of the car, duh,” he answered, still focusing on the highway as you remembered that it’s nearly a few exits away from the side of the town you and he grew up in. he took a glance at the bluetooth speaker as he sees,

“‘mitski’s brainchild personified’? you liked her that much?” he actually snorted, making you see the name on your phone on the screen in the middle of the dashboard.

“shut the fuck up. she’s my comfort musician, just like kaede from slam dunk is your comfort character.” the way your fingers lightly tap against your phone, makes him chuckle as he can hear you holding onto your emotion from not spilling through your words, not commenting on how you mentioned his liking for slam dunk as if you remember it so well, even if it also stuns him.

you’re playing a playlist of yours that is just… instrumentals. a perfect playlist to hear whilst commuting as you let yourself take a breather from this world. eyes gazing to the window outside as you rested your phone on your lap. the scent of heeseung’s cologne accustomed your memories as you let the music speak while you both remained quiet. maybe, because it is an instrumental track that you both couldn’t comment on, that he can’t take a jab at your music taste unless you put on mitski or boygenius, that it gives a soundtrack so vague it resembles the way you perceived your relationship to each. sure, you still hate him for everything he has done to you in the name of winning. but, with two babies on the way, the concept of the rivalry between you both is there yet so blurry. which one is a concrete rivalry? which one is the softer one? why should you trust what he gave to you? why did he join in to take care of them?

the car zooms fast on the highway, yet you can see slower cars on the outside of the highway and faster cars zooming past you on the other lane. it’s like what your dad had said before—"you don’t feel how fast life is until you look at other people’s lives"—and to think that you will be home in overtly large clothing to hide your bump to know that he’s going to be a granddad just concretes the idea of that in your mind. you turn your head to glance at the backseat, seeing the shopping bag you had prepared besides what heeseung also has for his family, who he’ll meet at your house.

stepping out of the car, you stood at the carpool of your house filled with cars—other than yours and your parents inside the garage—when you watched your mom and heeseung’s mom walk out of the porch, barefooted, to greet you. the warmth of your mom’s hug felt so overwhelming that you had to sink your emotions as you blamed your hormones for making you too sensitive.

the interior of the house feels so lively from the last time you went home during the semester break. maybe it’s because of the way your mom has another guest in the form of the lee family and the smell of the delicious you know both of your moms had made together with their aprons still on as they guide you inside. even as they walked to the kitchen, you could hear them whisper.

“since when did (y/n) and heeseung arrive here together and in the same freaking car?” auntie lee asks.

“(y/n) didn’t bring her car this semester so i guess she doesn’t wanna waste any more money for transport.” mama answered.

both of your moms have always tried to make you close and you’ve always tried to tone down your rivalry in front of them, effortlessly acting in front of them as nice friends when you give him a snide look behind their backs any chance you can get. your bickering can escalate so much that you will have a shouting match in the arcade as heeseung doesn’t want to give up his time to play for you, making both of your moms force you to apologize to each other before that bickering returns at school’s classes where they’re not there for you two to mediate. maybe that’s why you don’t perceive heeseung as an enemy. merely a rival; because your mom never talked bad about heeseung no matter what happened between the two of you and it seems that heeseung’s mom has also done the same to him.

the two shopping bags sit on the coffee table as you watch both of your dads talking about dad stuff. heeseung’s attention is on his phone as he’s typing something on the screen while you unconsciously rub your stomach hidden beneath your top, waiting for all of them to settle down around the coffee table as they want to open the shopping bags together.

“what did you bring me?” mama asks in a sing-song manner as heeseung’s mom giggles beside her. you stood beside heeseung with your hands behind you as the husbands looked at the similar-looking gift boxes in each of their wives’ hands.

“don’t tell me. is it the jewelry i showed you those months ago, hee?”

“nah, it’s not. dad’s planning to buy that one for you.”

heeseung’s dad’s face turns into a scowl, seemingly angry as if his son has spoiled his plan while the boy just widens his smile before gazing back at his mom.

“well, together?” mama asked to his mom.

“yeah, 3, 2… 1!”

the box opens as you’re holding your breath, also holding back your smirk as you can view the way papa’s eyebrows crease as he can’t believe what he is saying. heeseung’s mom was the first one to openly express her shock by literally jumping from her seat and box thrown towards his dad’s as he took a good stare at it, making you glance at him you actually won the bidding on who would be shocked first between the two.

“NO, FUCK- WAIT?!” his mom stares between the two of you before your mom jumps from her space to also gaze at you, holding onto the paper. giving him a nudge with your elbow. you didn’t expect him to wrap his arm behind your shoulders.

“yeah… the babies are ours-“

“no fucking way!” your mom actually shouted as she hyperventilates while heeseung’s mom covers her mouth, contemplating on what to do when she felt her body being squished by her best friend, hugging her tight as they turn to hug each other while heeseung’s dad gives his box to your dad so he could see it clearly.

“since when are you two together?” papa asked as you tried to let heeseung’s grip from your shoulder.

“uncle, we aren’t together. we just hook up and-“

“WE’RE GOING TO BE IN-LAWS.” you can hear mama cheer as both of the women twirl around the small space, making you feel even more guilty for breaking the immersion as you stop budging away from heeseung’s hold. rolling your eyes, you stare at heeseung and lean in close to his ear, whispering.

“bad fucking idea…”

“at least they’re happy, right? well, i won because of that.”

mama interrupts both of you as she gives you both an enormous hug while heeseung’s mom comes from behind. you could see the tears coming out of mama’s eyes who rested her head against your shoulder.

“ughh, too tight.”

“stop it, honey! (y/n) looks so uncomfortable.” papa reminded.

“oops, sorry!” your mom lets go of her hold as heeseung’s mom slotted between the two of you as she pushes in on the excess fabric of your clothes, making you grip both sides of your top and pull it backward so she can see your bump already showing.

“hi, baby!”

“it’s babies.” heeseung’s dad cuts in as his wife follows with, “there’s two of them?”

“i swear to god.” heeseung’s old man brushes his face, unbelievable that his wife didn’t see the two sacs from the ultrasound as you give your mom a nod, her hands carefully holding onto your waist.

“fraternal twins,” you confirmed to her as you watched another batch of fresh tears coming out of her eyes.

“hello, you two. you’re going to have the best mom ever.”

“and dad too.” heeseung’s mom replied as she moved to stand in front of you two, seeing his grown son seemingly glowing as she spoke of him being the best dad to his two unborn children.

“okay. i gotta have to make the red meat well done then.” mama cuts out as she hastily moves to the kitchen to cook back her meat-based meal, letting auntie lee replace her place as she caresses the bump gently.

“how long has it been?” she asked as you opened your mouth to reply.

“we did the ultrasound two weeks ago. so it’s week 12 now.” heeseung cuts you off as she gazes back at her son.

“what have you two already prepared?”

“we gave a letter to the university for future parents and they agreed to let me take online classes entering 5 months because i only have three classes, one is that's doing a study case, and they let heeseung have parental leave if i give birth. i haven’t found the right doula yet but my supervisor at the daycare has a connection to one and i think it will be her. she has given me the number so i just have to text her,” you answered.

“is it near campus?” she replied.

“yeah, because i don’t want to graduate late. that’s why i decided to stay near campus during it.” you have thoughts on if you should just take a break this semester to focus on your pregnancy or not multiple times by now. but, of course, the rivalry comes back as you still want to keep pace with heeseung and your friends who will be graduating next semester.

“you should take a semester leave, (y/n).” heeseung cuts off your thought as you peek at him.

“i’ve already got what i wanted from the uni and it’s fine, heeseung. i can keep up.”

“well, you can, but what if you don’t take care of the babies?”

“of course, i can take care of the babies-“

“not by being stressed over college.”

“heeseung-“ you turn your body towards him as you grip both of his upper arms, firm hands holding him as you stare down at him. “i know what’s best for me. i know what my limits are. i’ve trusted you enough with the food but you should also trust me to know how to take care of myself outside of nutrition.”

your teeth are grinding against each other as your fiery gaze stays on him, even as you let go of the grip. it stays for a few more seconds as you turn back to head to the dads who seem to be forgotten by the sofa, seeing papa teary-eyed as he hugs and kisses your head before you let heeseung’s dad hug you.

his mom turns towards him, cupping his cheek. “she knows what she’s doing, heeseung.”

“but how should i know it’s right? cause that’s not right for me. my friend’s mom said that a pregnant woman should focus on preparing herself for her birth and doing college doesn’t seem to prepare her for that.” heeseung sighed as he looked at his mom, not expecting a slight hurt on her face.

“i was still doing my job when i was pregnant with you, heeseung. your dad trusted me for that cause he knows my limits, might be even more than i do. let her be and you might learn that she knows how to take care of herself, too.” her hand brushed away the fringe on his forehead, eyes glistening as she let out a small warm smile at him. the hurt falling away as heeseung sees her mom’s signature smile of knowing before she brought him in his arms, hugging him tight as he glances at you who is giving him a small look with a tight-lip smile before you turn away to the dining room.

-

heeseung stares at the glow-in-the-dark stars sticking on the ceiling. his back being stretched out on the floor as he laid on the comforter beside the single bed where you’re still playing with your phone. he remembered how he begged—trying to persuade—his parents to bring him home with them. but knowing that he’ll only be staying for one night and you two are “together”, they decide for him to stay with you instead. you can see how his fuming breath was held as you glanced at him with an unidentifiable look at the dining table, his parents believing you would let him stay in your bed.

but he insists on lying down on the floor, knowing the history between the two of you they don’t know, as you silently agree.

printed pictures still hang on one side of the room when he looks at them as long as the bedside lamp is still on. he remains silent, eyes tired from looking at his phone so much to distract him from his reality when he hears the rummaging movement on the mattress as you put the phone on the table.

“well, night, heeseung.” the click of the lamp is big in the white-noised room as darkness envelops the space, letting in the moon and streetlights outside beam their shine inside. your eyes easily adjust to the surroundings as you puff your one-less pillows on the bed to find the right position—knowing the ache of sleeping in the wrong position when you are carrying two fetuses inside you.

“since when did you work in a daycare?”

the man’s words overcome your action as you brush the cover of the pillow.

“why do you wanna know?” you put the pillows in the right position as you lay your head and back against it.

“since your mom proclaimed that you’ll be the mom ever.”

heeseung is reminded of the way you look when your mom says that, a look of pride coming out of your eyes as you unconsciously nod knowingly. even if you and him are close by proximity—by being your moms’ children, by being schoolmates, by having roommates who stay in proximity with each other—there’s still something that you don’t know about each other. because if the opposites know, they can use it as leverage to bring any of the two down.

“had a few babysitting gigs during high school days. i started to like it more and decided when i go to hybe, i’ve volunteered for a non-formal school for children and more. i decided to do a part-time job at a daycare and yeah…” you replied, laying down by your side as if you could see heeseung beside you when he is, in fact, below you.

“it doesn’t match with your major though.” heeseung gives a snide comment as you sigh loudly.

“so what if a business major can’t connect with my passion for childcare- fuck me.” you stopped to remind yourself to stop taking the bait from heeseung because you know he was making these comments to break your confidence within yourself. you could discuss how making and taking care of a business could resemble making and taking care of a child, but with the way he had pissed you off today in more ways than one, you rather stick that thought to yourself and instead, take offense towards him.

“why did you wrap your arm around my shoulders?”

heeseung glances towards the bed, seeing your silhouette on the top forming a dark shadow because of your comforter shielding it.

“i had to. so they know the babies are ours,” he replied with the thought that first came to mind after he already had his arm behind you—blaming his underlying consciousness for doing that.

“and it makes them believe we’re together when we’re not. look at us now.” both of your arms stretch out of the comforter to tell him just how big the situation you got yourself into cause how many white lies must you tell your parents to hide that this is because of a hookup, not because you are romantically linked?

your staggered giggles drop as you try to glance downwards at him, the arm nearest to the floor left hanging as heeseung didn’t comment on what you said. “well, this just got more complicated.”

“our situation is complicated since the start, (y/n).”

“well, i know who to blame for making our strings get more tangled with our parents cause fuck you, heeseung.”

he saw the lone middle finger standing tall from the silhouette of your figure before you picked yourself up and lay all your weight on the bed, turning the other side as heeseung followed; both of you staring at the opposites of the room, knowing that your bodies needed to rest so you can face each other again in the morning.

the time between that night and how you both lived after you went back to your own places near campus was a week when you texted him about the doula that you had told at your parent’s home. the car was left in neutral with the handbrake lifted as heeseung waited at the daycare where you work. his eyes gaze at the differing modes of transport each guardian is picking up the kids with before looking at the lobby as he sees you and another attendant saying goodbyes to the kids. he watches as a few of them hug you and even a few let their cheek rested against your growing bump before you take a glance forward at them who is going back to be with their parents, noticing his car for a few seconds before you return inside to take your items.

the backpack is hanging off your shoulders as you take another sliced fried potato from the container when you enter the passenger’s seat beside his driver’s one, resting your back against the seat with your bag there to support you. “hello! i’ve sent you the address, right?”

he stares at you with his squinting eyes, “you should not eat that.”

“it’s cravings, heeseung. it’s totally normal. the doula can count me on that.” you chew another fry as heeseung lets out a mumble under his breath as he moves the handbrake and puts the gear to drive, reeling the car forward as he drives you to the doula’s office. both of your moms have suggested several doulas for you to choose from, but you reminded them you’re having twins. so having a doula who specializes in taking care of moms birthing multiples will be helpful as it is also your first time.

playfully, you fly a french fry like an airplane towards heeseung as he drives, like the usual time you try to feed kids at the daycare. it nudges against his lips a few times before he bit it, pulling it off your fingers; making you let out a chuckle cause he can’t even resist it himself.

the parking lot was pretty barren as you only saw a few vehicles when you both walked out of the cars. you adjust the backpack once again on your back as the chime from the car tells you it is now locked as you enter the office building.

thanking the receptionist, you and he stood in front of the doula’s office as you knocked the door.

the door opens as a soft-spoken woman says from the inside, “miss (l/n)(y/n)?”

“yes, i am.”

“oh, come in. come in.” the door widened as heeseung could see the things inside the large office room. a desk in one corner and a cabinet stood behind it. accolades and certifications by the desk with a sofa on the corner beside the door. a box of what seems to be baby toys beside the sofa as posters are hanging on the wall. from the anatomical look of a baby inside their mom’s uterus to words of encouragement towards mothers.

“i’m haseul. nice to meet you.” the woman shook your hand as she then glanced at heeseung who was still wandering around.

“oh, uh, this is heeseung, the babies’ daddy.” you refer to his name as he looks at the lady, shaking her hand as she looks between the two of you.

“so, both of you aren’t married or dating-“

“no, we’re childhood friends and hooked up, and this happened.” heeseung blurts out as you raised your eyebrows, poking your tongue in the cheek. haseul nodded her head as she let both of you sit down in front of the desk.

“first, congratulations on the twins. you must be nervous to find that out.”

“of course, especially as a first-time mom. but, i’m feeling pretty okay.”

“that’s good, i’ve also sent you the questionnaire for you to fill on your plan for giving birth…” haseul’s voice traces out as heeseung glances at the portrait frame of her holding onto a baby with a mom, a glance at the book about post-partum, and a baby doll on top of the cabinet right in front of a corner window. he could only catch onto some words he recognized from jeongin telling him—birth, dilation, cramps, anesthesia, cesarean—as he sensed himself getting overwhelmed, especially when he had the second preliminary match in two days and his gig in being the documentation for a baseball match for hybe uni too.

his thumbs caressed his fingertips as he sensed the sweat forming on his palm, the same feeling he has every time he has to go to match. to then realize just how ready you seem by how eloquently you say the words for your requests to the doula like you’ve grown up much more than he is even though both of you are the same age. sure, he felt the leverage the first time when he sent you food and a few tips he makes beomgyu do; but his knowledge couldn’t compete with yours and it scares him to know he is losing his stance from above you. to know that you’re much more ready than him.

“heeseung…” he heard someone calling for him, before something wrapped around his wrist, taken aback to see you brought him back to the room he was in.

“sorry… what did you say?” heeseung replied as haseul gave him a warm smile.

“i’ve heard from (y/n) that you have known some knowledge of pregnancies but i could give you some sources to read because it is your first time as a dad as well.” the woman said to him calmly, looking at heeseung as if she can read his body language. your hold on his wrist stays as you rub the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “we have also discussed that (y/n) will try the normal route with water birth and if she can’t handle it, she’ll be going with cesarean. we could also do an appointment every two weeks as both of you are students now, but it is best if you come so you can understand each process as she is entering the second trimester.”

“i understand. i’ll try my best to set my schedule so i can join her.” heeseung glanced at you, who was giving a nod before you let go of your hold as he seemed to be anchored back in the room. the woman gives a small smile as she starts a lecture on the process of pregnancy, childhood, and parenthood. another class that heeseung doesn’t want to get in the first place, but knowing his determination to be the best dad ever—as what his mom believes him to be—he follows along with writing notes in his book as you have with your laptop. the class that he has to pass so he can take care of his children as best as he can.

-

even with the music booming from around his space, heeseung still felt like something was different. his eyes rested on the plastic-colored cup filled with a concoction of alcohol he didn’t know—he could taste the gin and what seemed to be fanta in it. the sigma mu’s frat house lits up in motion as he eyes the way the expensive big-ass speakers are scattered around the room, gazing at the familiar faces of his peers and juniors he has seen while walking around campus.

something stirs within him as he eyes his friends who are here—beomgyu who is by the speaker as he talks with the dj, jimin with his dance crew friends, jeongin with his class friend, while heeseung sits with sunoo and sunghoon on either side of him. that’s when he caught onto the silhouette of some familiar faces every time he comes across a certain person; every time he comes across you.

“excuse me, gang.” heeseung would like to thank himself for being able to stand up so stable even with the nearly empty cup, excusing himself from his basketball teammates to walk towards the frat boys of sigma mu to find the vp and his girlfriend by his side.

“winter…” he calls with the nickname he heard you and others call her before as said girl turns towards him with her boyfriend’s arm still behind the sofa.

“lee heeseung.” she spoke out with a grin on her face, “what makes you come in front of us?”

“i was wondering,” ‘fuck it’ heeseung drinks up the whole liquid that remains inside the cup, hoping that his alcohol tolerance still be able to support him to be stable, “has (y/n) ever talked to you about a doula check-up or some other thing?”

“she should’ve told me if there’s gonna be a checkup but i don’t think there is one nearest from now.” minjeong replies as she lets sungchan take care of her drink so she can comfortably talk to the boy in front of them.

“ah, really?”

“yeah!” minjeong replied before giving another smile. that’s when someone crashes to wrap their arms around minjeong and sungchan, making the two jump as they turn to see ryujin’s head between both of them before giving minjeong a peck on the temple.

“hey, (y/n)’s baby daddy. whatchu up to?”

heeseung chuckles as he looks between the two girls—”no wonder you have them as your friends, all of them are similar after all”—before he opens his mouth.

“just checking what’s (y/n) up to-“

“well, she’s not here. for your information.” ryujin lets out a smirk, “you must really wanna talk to her about something.”

“a doula appointment.” sungchan replied, “and you know how (y/n) is about…” the boy glances at, “him.”

heeseung’s teeth grit against each other as he senses they are hiding something from him. maybe because of your doing so you can prove to everyone that he isn’t as committed to his children as he spoke about.

“you and minjeong aren’t home, so i presume (y/n) is with chaer-“

“someone’s calling my name?”

heeseung sighs as he turns towards the voice of chaeryeong who is holding two cups of drinks as she gives one to ryujin.

“he’s asking about (y/n).” minjeong nods toward chaeryeong when she lets out a small ah before turning her head to stare at heeseung.

“since chan here invited all four of us at the frat party, she really wanted to be here but, of course, cause she’s preggo with YOUR children, she couldn’t. but all of us went out of the apartment together and she was holding a duffle bag of some sort.”

“where is she going?” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to ask, making your three friends look at each other and giggle.

“you seem desperate enough. she’s at the park near our apartment complex. she complained about needing a light workout because of how much her back is hurting.” ryujin said as heeseung could picture the park, knowing where you lived because he had picked you up for your trip back home for the weekend.

“okay, thanks all of you.” heeseung places the cup on the table beside the sofa where minjeong sits and turns away, letting the sense of fresh air flowing inside the frat house guide him to the nearest exit as he arrived on the pavement, feeling the stuffiness inside him getting lighter as he gave a text in his group chat he’ll be leaving early.

the walk there was pleasant, to say the least, because the suburban town the campus is in is pretty sparse compared to the city where heeseung and you live. there is enough place for it to be called a big town but not enough skyscrapers to be called a metropolis. and with the inconsiderable amount of apartment complexes available near campus, he already pinpointed the park where you might be.

crossing the black-and-white stripes, he arrived at one of the entrances of the park where he still could see a few people doing their activities inside—night jogging, playing chess under the streetlights, and a couple who was on a date. he was reminded of what ryujin said about how you might need exercise, but the duffle bag says to him you might stay in one place rather than walking around the park as the main event of your exercise time.

heeseung’s feet instantly brought him to the place that he had gone before in this park as it is the same park near where sunghoon, jay, and jake live—maybe they live in the same complex as you do—when he finds the silhouette lightly jog behind the trees from the path he is on. the sound of rubber meeting the concrete slaps across the night’s atmosphere as he sees you in the middle of the basketball court, wearing a sweatshirt where he could see the bump pushing against the fabric. the basketball bouncing between your palm and the ground creates the familiar sound as you jog toward the ring and shoot your shot. the ball hits the backboard enough that it bounces into the basket.

“fuck yes…” you exclaimed as you grabbed the bouncing ball into your hand, heaving as you brushed the sweat of your skin right underneath the spotlight shining on the court.

that’s when you pick up the scraping on the concrete and clap when you turn around to look at the last person you want to see tonight.

“you still got it,” heeseung commented, making you scoff as you took a few steps back so you stood adjacent to the free throw circle. holding up the basketball between your hands as you tried to remember the position before pushing towards the ring. the basketball curves as it hits the edge of the box instead.

“dammit!”

“you spun your ball,” heeseung replies as the ball flies into his arm, naturally guiding it into a dribble as he walks towards you.

“i didn’t.”

“your wrist was twisted and it makes your hand doesn’t flop straight towards the ring.” he walks towards your side as he shows you the way to hold it, making you glance at the arm muscles that form from holding the ball so much as he throws the ball, creating a perfect arch that it bounces on the back of the rim before it flies and the basket catches its fall. your body immediately reaches for it before heeseung can as you return to your spot whilst dribbling alternating between left and right.

“i know.” you lightly roll your eyes as you grab onto the basketball once again, wiping your sweat palm against your sweatshirt before you feel the right grip as you return to your position, reminding yourself to let the ball fly and not twist your ball before you threw it.

you heard a click of the tongue as you saw a pair of hands reaching to hold yours, making your hand move to the position as you picked up heeseung’s breath beside your ear. startled, your shoulder nudges against his chest as you hear a small “ack” before you throw the basketball, seeing it twirl in the air. you can hear heeseung saying “i told you so.” before it bounces against the backboard, but you are ready as you stride towards it to grab the ball before heeseung catches it and you quickly do a layup, gliding the ball as it bounces right at the small box above the rim as it bounces inside. you turn your body to face him, head tilted with a smug smile as the ball bounces before it rolls to heeseung’s feet.

but the smile falls as you see heeseung who is in his element, walking back to the three-point line and shooting his shot as the ball, once again, creates a perfect arc. the basket catches it into its net as heeseung walks towards the center of the court with a wide grin on his face. the ball bounces near you as you hold it and dribble once more, glancing at it, the court, and heeseung once again as you shake your head, scolding yourself to take things slow for your and your babies’ sake. the sudden epiphany makes your eyelids flutter as you dribble away at a steady walking pace around the court.

your footsteps are met with another as heeseung’s legs stride towards you, a smirk on his face showing as he replies, “that’s why you were put in the point guard position.”

“hmm…” your reply is small as you continue to dribble away the basketball, making you and he walk around the court together before he cuts through the silence.

“why did you stop playing basketball in high school?”

your body stood still as you let your muscle memory do your job of dribbling the ball, shifting your head towards his even if you look away.

“you were, well, it seems to be still are, good at it,” he added.

the memories of your first year in high school from the extracurricular showcase come back as you are already determined to stop playing basketball, focusing on doing something else that you were interested in.

“i got tired of it,” you replied, but heeseung seemed to notice that it was not all the truth.

“and…”

the ball stops bouncing as you hold it against you, wrapping your arm across your front along with the ball as you glare at him and reply, “you.”

“me?”

“yeah, you. i stopped playing because of you.” you turn around and set your eyes on the bench where your bag is. your water bottle calling for you so you can hydrate yourself as you give in.

“really, huh? wow, that was another victory i didn’t expect-“

“fucking hell, heeseung. that’s why- this-“ you gulped down your saliva, “what you become because of it is why i stop. i know our moms are outstanding basketball players at their time and we’ve gotten the signal to be like them but-“ you hold back as you throw the bottle inside the bag, holding yourself down as your hands form fists.

basketball has always been a large part of your life before you were even born. your mom and heeseung’s met because of their love of basketball as they became skilled players together. your mom and dad meet up because of basketball. you still remember the amount of pictures of your parents in their high school days in their basketball jerseys in the photo albums. even if they don’t pursue it professionally, it still becomes a large part of their life as it also spills onto you.

with the amount of time you have interacted with children—as it makes you see your own experience as a child in a different view—many of them like to mimic what their parents do before they form their own sense of self. you can see it with the way one child at the daycare is always playing doctor with dolls, figures, and plushies because one of their parents is a doctor. you were like that. you’ve heard and seen just how impactful basketball is to your mom that you want to be just like her, making you join the teams during your elementary and middle schools.

to see and feel the influence of your rival during practice and tournaments around you was overwhelming.

the tug-of-war between the basketball in between both of your hands is just the beginning of what kinds of rivalry you and him have during practice. even if your coaches assigned you to the same team, you or he, depending on who is first, will reach out to the coach to be put into the other team. even if you two had to practice together, hidden aggression is flying to the roof, which includes passing the ball so hard that it had even made your nose bleed. as time goes on and the many matches you and he have to compete in as you two have to watch each other to “encourage” each other’s team, you had notice the way you fell out of love of basketball because of how there are more bad memories associated with it even if you were being trusted as a captain for one season and scoring many buzzer beaters to let your team and school win the tournament.

“you’ve become so much better with it as i lost interest. i still remember when the coach brought me to the nurse’s office cause you passed the ball so hard that it hit my face. in the middle of practice for the last season in middle school, that’s when i knew…” you take steps closer as you now stand in front of him.

“i knew i’m in a losing battle against you.”

your muscles twitched as you wanted to let out a smirk when you noticed the hidden expression heeseung failed to hide, the little shock he had gotten to show. yet, the emotion that is enveloping you held it down, as you now had to tell him the truth. why your rivalry seemed to expand outside of the scope that both of you are in.

“that’s why i quit basketball. that’s why i decide to pursue my own path even with you tailing behind me to comment on my every move. because i am sick of you. yet, i held back. i had to retaliate, just like what i did on that fucking playground when we were 5. cause i’m not afraid of you even though i know i’ll lost in the end.” you chew the inside of your cheeks as heeseung seems to read your face while letting his brain figure out what you meant.

“that’s why i wanted a fucking truce.”

with the way your facial muscles contort, it hurts you more and more as you feel the tears of pain forming, harboring the feelings you have felt for nearly two decades now. with your hand raised, you wiped the small drop of tear as you let out a huge breath, feeling just a bit of the weight in your rivalry falls off—right along with you.

as you let your body sit on the concrete ground, you push yourself back slowly as you settle and lay on it. heeseung’s conflicted face peeking from your vision while you’re trying to blur it out by focusing on the night sky. though the light pollution is still around you, you can still see tiny specks of stars behind the shadow of clouds of the night. stretching your back on the ground as you let your backbone rest after trying to make you stand upright while carrying two growing fetuses.

eyelids close, you let nature take control in calming your emotions and let heeseung process the information himself. the first time you truly open up yourself behind the mask of your persona—maybe when he stays the night in your childhood room is one as you recall your feet resting against his sleeping figure, contemplating if you want to wake him up or not before gazing at the dusting basketball that you decide to bring back to your apartment after papa helps in blowing more air so it doesn’t sag too much.

the sound of rustling leaves seems to be louder as you rest still, hearing a muffled thump beside you as you open your eyes, looking at your feet to then find another pair lying down right beside yours.

“you’re the one that was throwing a fit and ruining my toy truck after i apologized.” you sighed as you took a peek to see heeseung’s head turning towards you, asserting dominance once again before looking back. you knew that if you replied with the same vibe to assert your own dominance, it would actually break you apart faster than the rate that you are now. however, you have one question that will be the right one to ask him about.

“did you mean that?”

“‘mean’ what?”

“the apology? did you mean that? cause i want you to look at it from my eyes, lee.”

heeseung traces back to that memory when he sees you teary-eyed face and his mom beside him, the boys he was playing with snickering on the side as they saw him getting in trouble with his then-friend. the “sorry” mumbled out of him with his eyes on you but mind on the boys, who seemed to not snicker at him, but at you for being a pissy fit. but, deep down, he knew…

“i meant it.” his reply makes you turn your head, mirroring his form as you let out a slight pout.

“with that smile you were giving? hell no-“ you rolled your eyes.

“i genuinely meant it. the boys that were there, they were behind you and they were laughing at us. i had to juggle facing you and them. i had to look fierce yet still can give you an apology. maybe that’s why you see the smirk that you see. i was a fucking child, (y/n). we’re not as good as we are not in hiding complicated emotions to only let out one.”

your chest rises and falls as you see the apology smirk in a different light. you don’t know if you should easily believe that or not, but after taking it into consideration, you could feel a small part of your inner child healing up before you realize the damage that you also have done to him.

“if it is genuine; i’m sorry, then. about the truck. you know how i felt now and why i did that.” you return to look at the sky once again as you hear the rustle beside you before peeking at heeseung who is also staring into the night, listening to him humming before you return to gaze back again.

“what would happen if i actually have the emotional intelligence to know that you were sincere that day?” your words cut off the silence as you felt the guilt pouring for it to be transformed into humor that was reciprocated well by heeseung’s chuckles.

“well, we wouldn’t have these two.” he playfully poked your belly, making you let out a small shriek before holding onto his wrist as you held his hand down between the two of you and you pivoted your head to see him.

“in all seriousness, i think we might have been the friends our moms see us to be because let me tell you, they see us differently than what we are having.” his words are replied with a hum as you added,

“i notice that too. glad we can be more civil in front of them.”

“we still could, you know.”

with the way you didn’t hold on to his wrist tightly, you felt the limb moving under your touch before his palm rested underneath your own. the wind blows against your sweaty top as it gives you shivers from the cold, hoping that your own temperature and a lifeline can help warm it up. and you can feel it warmer as you see heeseung pivot to mirror you. his fingers slid between yours as if he knew the little shivered breath you led out.

“have each other’s backs. emulate what they want.”

your eyes are galloping to the way the spotlight shines half of his as the other one is cast in shadows from facing the concrete. you could smell a faint scent of alcohol on him but with the life in his eyes, you knew he wasn’t drunk. the way his eyes are also peering with slight twitches as before connecting with your gaze.

pushing one side of your upper body, you cup onto heeseung’s cheek as he leans up to connect your lips. your shoulder is pushing down against the ground as heeseung’s grip on your hand tightens, making it steady as you can hear his muffled hum from your kiss. your fingers curl to hold yourself up better before you feel his other hand reach for your waist and push you down so you both lay on the side.

both of you take turns to take a breath as you sense the tip of his nose brushing against yours. every time you let out a breath, the other’s lips linger before connecting once. your legs curled as you felt the ticklish sensation surging through your nerves before heeseung pushed your lower back so it could stay for one last long kiss before he pulled away. your noses touch each other as you feel his hand on your waist trails to your bump, pressing it down gently as you lean back to see him looking down at the body he is holding. then, his eyes flick back to you as he can sense you slip away, turning yourself away from him as you push yourself up with your arms.

grabbing the lone basketball and putting it in the duffle bag, you zip it up and shift to find heeseung now upright, yet still with his legs stretched out on the ground.

“baby steps, heeseung.” you pull away before giving a small salute.

“baby steps.”

your voice echoes as heeseung watches you walk away, biting his bottom lip before a chuckle falls out of him as he knows he had to text you back his question about the appointment, knowing that you will reply to him.

-

beomgyu breathed out as the elevator opened up to the now familiar hallway, holding onto the box that he had still had to bring even if heeseung already told him he’ll do the next one himself because of what he told him. the box held fresh ingredients that jeongin also pinpoint—courtesy of his doctor mom—on what you should eat, considering now that there are two of them inside you. beomgyu couldn’t help but feel melancholic knowing that this was the last time he’d probably visit your apartment complex as… well…

but, other than bringing you today’s box, beomgyu is here to pick you up for the doula appointment as heeseung will follow suit after practice. even his bandmates are weirded out as to why he has to do the errands, but knowing that they’re in the process of rest mode whilst preparing to create new music and focusing on academics, he allows it, especially with how long he has been best friends with the guy.

he huffs as he positions the box again against his upper body, sliding his pointer finger to the bell as he picks up the familiar bell sounding in the room. but it seems like there’s no one inside. he’s glad that he remembers the pin ryujin has given him as he pushes inside the door to see the clean empty living room of the apartment he has been in countless times when he had to put the box in himself. pushing off his shoes, he walks to the kitchen and places the box on the island counter before rushing towards the intercom to turn off the bell.

that’s when he heard the noise of something familiar.

a guitar strumming sound of chords and the changes he recognized.

beomgyu took tiny steps towards one of the ajar doors in the hallway as the realization of the familiar sound widened his eyes. of course it was familiar to him, it was his song.

the nearly acoustic rendition of “skipping stones” with a familiar voice he had heard makes him peek through the door to find you sitting cross-legged on your bed, holding a nearly all-white guitar as you strum while having headphones on your head, singing the daylights out as your window lets the stream of lights in through the window. he lets you sing as he can see you glow—jeongin had mentioned to him that pregnant women have this whole glow on them. maybe that’s what he was seeing in you. the way your fingers glide against the fretboard with your eyes on it or close as you sing the lyrics makes beomgyu mesmerized.

the last ring of strings strummed is heard from your rumble speaker when you notice clapping from outside of your headphones, making you look up to find beomgyu behind your slightly open door. his clapping turns to hollering as lets out a wide thin smile before looking away; you don’t want him to see you flustered. that is when you realize why you’re here.

“oh fuck, the doula appointment.”

“yeah!” beomgyu replies outside as you quickly tidy the guitar up into your case and you step into your wardrobe to grab some more clothes that are much more appropriate for your appointment.

“sorry, about that. beom.”

“nah, no worries. i can wait.”

“thanks!” you close the door as you quickly change your clothes, deciding for a flowy blouse with a rubber-banded culotte, needing to remind yourself to buy maternity clothes because you are slowly running out of clothes that fit you. you wore a bit of sunscreen as you got a message from mama telling you to embrace the pregnancy glow your friends seemed to notice is exuding out of you as you’re in the second trimester. wearing the eau du toilette that doesn’t make you as dizzy—unlike perfume—you open the door to see beomgyu leaning against the wall where it hangs a frame of you and your roommates in photo booths.

“you ready?” he held his hand out as you nodded, you put your hands out before beomgyu grabbed the strap of the bag from your hold, startling you before you returned to your usual state. if your face isn’t warm enough, it’s now warmer from the embarrassment.

the walk down to his car is silent as he helps with buckling the seatbelt to the side. seeing how much your stomach is rested underneath the strap makes him giggle as you recognize the smell of pot from beomgyu’s very appropriate old sedan car.

“hopefully you aren’t high while driving me.” you give a cheeky grin.

“of course not. heeseung will actually kill me if he finds that i dui with you.”

beomgyu twists the key of the ignition as the car turns on—yes, that’s how old his car is—as the sound of a loud rock song plays from the rock fm you recognized. his hand reaches for the button as you react,

“no need. i’m okay with it.”

he hums as he reaches for the volume to turn the sound down, not letting the rattling of the sound in the interior startle you as he pulls the car out of the parking space and into the road.

“can you check the quickest route to the office?” beomgyu said as he brushed his wolf-cut hair.

“of course.” you lean back against the leather seat as you open the map app on your phone, telling beomgyu the roads to the doula’s office. the song has changed to a familiar song by tom petty playing as you notice how beomgyu glances at you.

“what?” you called out with a few chuckles.

“i didn’t expect you to like my song, well txt’s song.” his reply is met with your own giggle as you lean back.

“even if i hate heeseung. that doesn’t mean i have to hate his friends, you know?”

your eyebrow is raised as he gives another quick look before focusing on the road, “if you don’t believe me, i’ve been a fan of band your band since, like, sophomore year when you formed.”

“why? i really wanna hear from a fan's perspective.”

your giggle warms his heart as you answered, “i just relate to it, ya hear? a band that talks about the hardships of finding oneself and the struggle of growing but in a more intelligible way other, especially ‘skipping stones’ from your newest album.”

both of beomgyu’s hands are on the steering wheel as you feel the brake of the car before turning to the curb of where the office is, parking nearest to the entrance as the car stops and he pulls the hand brake. both of you sitting inside as you waited for heeseung to arrive in a few minutes from the last time he texted you.

“why ‘skipping stones’ specifically?”

“hmm…” you suppressed the grin that is threatening to go out before replying with, “interpreting self-struggle with the idea of skipping stone is… in it of itself, very poignant. to correlate the body of water with your own and the stones you’re throwing as the struggle you’re facing.” you let out a huge sigh, “i don’t know- it’s something i understand, especially if someone else is doing the skipping stone to you, feeling that emotion sinking into you, replacing the water’s place…”

you glanced at beomgyu who was definitely staring at you, his hands on his lap as he let out a solemn smile, agreeing with what you said. you quietly nod and take a sharp intake, trying to find the right words to cut the rising awkwardness between the two of you, “other than that, the freaking dissonance on the harmony is so good. it gives a sense of unbalanced buoyancy as if you’re a leaf floating on the water and the skipping stone makes it unstable. great job on that.”

“thanks!”

“of course.” you nearly slapped yourself for leaning closer to the middle console, but beomgyu seemed to not react as much when you felt a bit of your finger touching his. “can’t wait for the next release. no pressure.”

the corner of beomgyu’s lips rose as he giggled, a boyish grin on his face before his expression changed, “don’t worry, me and the band won’t let the fans down.” he replied as you leaned back, head nodding. that’s when you hear the rumbling of the car right beside yours as you see the appearance of heeseung’s newer model car.

“gotta go. thank you so much for bringing me here,” you said as beomgyu helped pick your bag up from the backseat.

“of course, (y/n). gotta have to thank heeseung for letting me do so, but hey…” you felt his hand reaching and now touching your wrist, making you turn your body while nearly opening the door.

“i've known you since high school but we never hang out together cause of heeseung. maybe we could hang out, with your girls and my guys? if heeseung is already melting his ice down then i think that’s okay for us and our friends to hang out. it’s up to you, though.”

you suppress an amused smile as you think about it. thinking about how long have you been crushing on the boy in front of you and how you wanna shake heeseung a thank you for letting him do the errands, maybe even to your noise-canceling headphones that make him notice just how much you like him- no, his band. yeah.

“i’ll think about it. heeseung and i don’t have a formal truce yet but based on what we talked about last time, maybe it could work.”

“sweet-“

you heard a knocking on the door before you turned around to catch heeseung’s silhouette behind the glass window.

“i’ll talk to the girls so we can arrange a time.”

“me too with the guys.”

“okay, bye beomgyu.” the car door unlocks as you nuzzle the door open while hearing beomgyu’s own “bye” from the driver’s seat. heeseung helps to hold the door as you step out.

“thanks for her ride, gyu.”

“don’t mention it, hee. we might even have to ride with her often.” beomgyu said right as the door that heeseung held closed. the engine turns on as the car drives off the parking. you stand right beside heeseung as he looks at you, who still has a lingering smile on your face.

“why are you smiling, (y/n)?”

he lightly nudges your palm with his as you turn your head to him.

“you’ll see, hee.” as you took off towards the office, leaving heeseung once again alone as he then followed you.

part 2

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stelanity @possibly-zoe0218 @enhypenilycometoaus @jaysupremacy @jungwoneez

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[cheolhub]

11:59 P.M. — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL࿐

summary. cheol offers you a striking incentive to help you turn in your assignments due at midnight.

wc. 2.1k

warnings. soft service top!cheol but also soft dom (?), so much praise, cockwarming, cheol w/ a BIG [redacted], dumb!fication, pet names [princess, baby, pretty, good/smart girl], unprotected s2x, creampie (yum), desk s2x <3 both of them are very desperate ><

note. happy belated birth 2 me ^^ to celebrate, i’m posting my first (100% self-indulged) cheol fic (it’s long overdue, i know.) reblogs are greatly appreciated mwah!! ily all sm <3 [ not proofread ]

“cheollie…” you whimper softly, eyes fluttering close. “please…”

seungcheol smiles, lips pressed to your ear. “did you finish, baby?” he asks with a voice barely above a whisper. when you shake your head, muttering out a soft ‘no,’ he simply hums. “how much more do you have?”

“i-i only have 150 more words to write,” you tell him breathily, hands tensing up as you think about how full you are of his cock. “but i can’t focus anymore… i dunno what else to say.”

“oh, maybe i should take you–”

you cut him off with a desperate cry before he can even suggest taking you off his cock. “no! no, don’t– but…maybe i should turn it in as is?”

“you’re doing so well, though, baby. i know you can do it, you’re my smart girl.” he coos. “plus, that wasn’t our agreement.”

right, you think. the stupid agreement. 

seungcheol saw how much you were dreading your school work so, naturally, he offered to let you sit on his cock while you did your assignments. you both agreed– him more than you– that as soon as you turned in all of your work, he’d then treat you just the way you needed. 

but now the only thing you can think about it is his stupidly big cock and his buff arms wrapped around you and the stream of arousal that pools at the base of his length. it’s almost overwhelming how he’s filled your senses. 

“i know, cheol, but i’m tired– i wanna fuck.” you whine and he chuckles at the vulgar words. 

“i’ll only fuck you if you finish your work, princess, you know that.” he reprimands. “c’mon, it’s 11:23, start typing.”

you groan, hands falling to your keyboard. you do your best to come up with 150 more comprehensible words and, for the most part, you’re doing well. you easily write two sentences of 53 words, but when cheol accidentally shifts under you, your hands freeze and you let out a soft whimper. 

when you clamp tightly around him, the softest sigh slips his lips. “‘m sorry, baby, keep going.” he says, trying to control himself. 

“you’re teasing me on purpose, cheol,” you whine, eyes fluttering close when you feel his cock twitch inside

“‘m not, promise.” he whispers, hot breath fanning against your neck. “just feel s’good, can’t wait to fuck you.” 

you gasp, brain going haywire at the words. a soft moan slips your lips and a lightbulb goes off in cheol’s head. 

he knows exactly how to get you to finish your work. 

he smiles cheekily, “you want that, right, princess? you want me to fuck this pretty lil cunt full, yeah?” his voice is low as his lips trail up to the shell of your ear. 

you huff. “fuck… yes– i want that.” 

“i know, baby,” he murmurs against your ears. “just 97 more words ‘n i’ll let you turn off that big brain of yours and fuck you stupid– you can do that for me, can’t you?”

you shudder, nodding your head incessantly. you take a deep breath and let your eyes refocus on the screen at your desk. seungcheol proudly hums, chin resting on your shoulder as he watches you type. 

it’s obvious you have no idea what you’re talking about. your trigger fingers clack against the keyboard as if your life depends on it, but your sentences are nearly incoherent. you forget your commas and apostrophes and proper capitalization, but he can’t find it in him to correct you. he knows how badly you need this and he also needs it just as bad.

when you type your last period and press submit without proofreading the work, you let out a cry of relief. it definitely wasn’t your best work– probably your fucking worst– but you’re nearing the end of the semester and you could truly care less about what your professor thinks of you. you let out a sigh, instantly grinding down and clamping around seungcheol’s cock as soon as you see the ‘submitted’ sign on your computer. 

“so good,” he moans, hands guiding your hips. “my smart girl, you did so well, fuck.”

“oh my, god.” you whine desperately. “cheollie, y-you’ll fuck me right?”

“god, yes.”

unbeknownst to you, too caught up in your own desperation, seungcheol was needy. probably just as needy as you. you wrapped around him so nicely– you always fucking do– and it has been driving him up a wall for the past hour. he wanted, so badly, to buck his hips up to fuck into you, but he had to control himself. he had to let you finish your work before you could finish in the way you deserved. 

but now, you’re done and he plans on ravishing you till the only thing can say is his name. 

his hands grip your waist tight, halting your movements and ripping a loud whine from your throat. 

“up.” he demands softly, pulling you off his cock. 

you pant, “but cheol–”

“promise i’ll give you what you want, baby— told you i would—  but not like this, yeah? let me take care of you.”

you nod dumbly, lifting up and whining in the process at the emptiness. seungcheol grunts, already missing the tightness of your pussy, but he quickly moves to spear you back on to him. he stands to his feet and pushes the chair back before roughly spinning you around and pressing his lips to yours. you melt in his calloused hands, your own flattening against his hard chest. 

your mouth cracks open on a moan and cheol takes it as an opportunity to shove his tongue inside. your knees give out at the feeling of him invading your mouth and your fingers grab at the loose grey shirt on his body to keep from falling over. you fist tighter and tighter as the seconds pass, arousal leaking from your bare cunt. 

he presses you against the desk, blindly sliding your laptop out of the way. when he groans into your mouth, you hoist yourself on to it with his assistance, sitting on the edge and spreading your legs for him to stand between. 

panting, seungcheol parts from the kiss, “hold on to me, baby.” he says, words rushed and a bit whiny.

you eagerly nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning back so he can easily press into you. his breathing is shaky as he aligns his cock with your hungry, drooling hole and when he slowly pushes in, he lets a loud moan out– one louder than the whimper that escapes your lips– while huffing out a curse. 

your head falls back and your eyes roll when you feel his cock fill you up again. even though he was inside you a mere three minutes ago, his girth is still so much to take. so much in a good way, of course. the burning stretch is one you miserably crave throughout the day. 

“still so tight, fuck,” he sighs, basking you in. you look so fucking beautiful in his loose t-shirt alone and, even with the tiny dark circles under your eyes and your hair slightly disheveled, he still thinks you’re the prettiest thing in the world. his pretty fucking girl. 

a choked sob dies in the back of your throat as he bottoms out. “ch-cheol.” you manage to get out, a pained expression falling over your face.

he shushes you softly, “just breathe, baby, you’re takin’ me so well, but you need to breathe.” he urges, words strained as he’s fighting the impulse to moan again. it’s nearly impossible, though, with how fucking amazing you feel. 

you nod profusely and take a shuddered inhale followed by an even shakier exhale allowing your body to adjust to his intense size. when the pain finally subsides and you can nearly taste the pleasure on your tongue, you softly moan out his name. 

he asks if you’re good and that raspy, deep voice fills your ears, sending shockwaves to your messy cunt. you clench again but ultimately tell him, “‘m okay– s’okay. y-you can keep going.”

he grunts at this, pulling his cock out– eliciting a whine from you– before gently pushing back in. he gives you a few experimental thrusts, listening to the way you moan for him prior to setting a steady speed. 

“how’s this, princess?” he pants, large hands still roughly grabbing at your waist. “too fast?”

you shake your head, looking at him with teary, doe eyes. “faster? please?” 

he moans, nodding his head. “tell me if it’s too much, okay? know you’re tired ‘n i just want you to feel good.” he reminds you sweetly, voice cracking as the tempo of his thrusts increase. 

even if it was too much, you wouldn’t tell him. you love his cock– love the way he makes you feel– and you would spend days fucking him if you could. you nod anyway, though, giving him peace of mind. 

the desk under you wobbles a bit with the rapid speed at which he fucks you, but it’s very obvious that the unsturdy object is the least of both of your worries. your mouth is hung open, moans and soft cries drooling out while cheol watches completely enamored of you. 

it’s right when he gives you a sharp thrust, hitting the spongy spot in your pussy, that he sees your brain shut off. he sees the way your eyes glass over and hears how your pleads and cries have slurred. he’s already fucked you stupid. 

“that’s it, pretty baby, don’t need to think anymore. so pretty ‘n smart. so fuckin’ perfect. just for me.” he moans breathily, grip on your body somehow tightening. he’ll have to remember to apologize and dote on you a little more when you wake up with bruises in the morning. “oh, shit— you’re doin’ so well, baby. always so good f’me.” 

his cock stirs you up and it’s hard to stop your orgasm from brewing in the pit of your tummy. “cheol!” you gasp, tightly wrapping your legs around him. you pull him closer to you and he feels like he might let go too soon if you don’t ease up on him.

“‘m here, right here. all yours, baby.” he promises. “gonna let go for me? make a pretty lil mess all over me, huh?”

you nod, tears of pleasure soaking your lash line and getting ready to spill down your face. “uh-huh! ‘m so close.”

you just need a little bit more and you’ll surely soak him in your cum. luckily, seungcheol knows exactly what you need. 

“rub your clit,” he tells you, a loud grunt following his words at the thought. “rub your clit and cum all over my cock, princess.”

a broken moan slips out and you nod weakly. one of your arms leaves his neck and snakes in between your bodies. your nimble fingers find the puffy, untouched bud, rubbing uncoordinated circles into it.

seungcheol finds the sight so alluring and when you clamp around him, his eyes nearly roll. he can’t stop the way his hips pick up in speed as his own brain turns to mush. your jaw goes slack and your eyes squeeze shut at the onslaught of pleasure. you don’t even get the chance to warn him when he gives you another sharp thrust and the tight coil in your tummy suddenly unravels. 

your cries die on the tip of your tongue as you release with an inaudible squeal, body jerking under his. tears begin to fall, painting your heated cheeks as you’re overwhelmed by the immense gratification. 

“that’s a good girl,” he groans, feeling how you trap him in between your tight, gummy walls. “fuck, fuck, fuck– you feel so good.” he tells you, eyebrows knit together as he wears the sexiest face of pleasure. 

you sob as he fucks you through your orgasm, body slumping in exhaustion. “cheollie,” you mewl, still trembling on top of the desk. 

“i know, baby, ‘m gonna cum… w-where–”

you cut him off, “inside.”

he grunts a curse, “shit– gonna fill you up, gonna give it to you, princess,” he babbles, thrust growing sloppy. “take it all for me.”

it happens before you can reply. his hips flush against yours, cock stilling before he empties his load into your cunt. he whines softly, mumbling out more words of praise. 

he stays nestled inside of your cunt, holding your body up with his hands while he peppers kisses all over your face. 

“did that feel good?” he whispers, unable to trust his wavering voice. 

“so so good,” you sigh. “thank you, cheollie.”

he smiles, humming, “you deserved it, princess.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

taglist 🔖: @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou @5xiang @ttyunz @lunaofthelake @girls4cheol @miriamxsworld @enhacolor

[viridwns]

Regarding the Phantomhive mom au, i've been wondering how the mom will deal with the marriage of his sons. Will she have a breathe of air or she will be reluctant about it?

The relationship of mom and the twins is complicated.

She loves them in a way because she did birth them, took care of them and they aren't horrible to her 100% of the time.

In the first few years of their lives, they were just sweet and innocent babies who didn't know what their dad had done to their mom.

She hoped they would stand up against Vincent, but alas.

So when they both get their respective partner and both get betrothed, the only thing she prays for is that they aren't treating their wives like Vincent treats her.

And they don't! They are pretty good husbands.

While [redacted], or as a follower suggested I call him Sirius (one of the theorized names), does live somewhere else, not too far of course, Ciel owns the estate after he became earl.

Normally the parents would move to another house, but in this case no. That will not happen, ever.

Maybe if Vincent wants some alone time they go to this tiny cottage on the outskirts of London where they are completely and utterly alone.

So Ciel is still with her all day every day, but he's swamped with work most of the time.

Sirius tries to visit as much as he can, but he has a toy store to run.

So yes, it's quite a breath of relief when they get married. They actually behave more like normal sons' now that they have a wife and own businesses. They don't have time to obsess over their mother with all these new responsibilities.

The mom is quite content with all this. The only dark side is, is that Vincent has nothing to worry about anymore. No business trips, no social events, no nothing. He can spend all his time with his wifey.

[freelanceexorcist]

Minor Rebirth spoilers under the cut.

I just realized something (I told you all it takes me a few tries for things to sink in).

Here's a screen grab of the Gast journal Sephiroth is reading out loud from right before he loses it:

Now this is probably just a stylistic choice to show the audience how top secret the Jenova Project was, but why are parts of it redacted? And at what time were the redactions made?

It just seems like an odd choice. If a document contains information that's sensitive enough that redaction is required for parts of it, why leave it in the basement of an abandoned mansion that anyone can access (difficult as it is to do so)? Why not move all of them and store them in a secure facility that can only be accessed by those with the proper clearance?

Yeah, I know we're talking about scientists that suck so bad at recording data that they didn't even document the date of birth and the blood type of the project's only successful result, but still.

This leads me to think that the redactions aren't of anything top secret, but for the purpose of spreading disinformation. I can't help but wonder if my suspicions about Hojo having a hand in engineering Sephiroth's breakdown are correct and that he wanted him to have disinformation for that reason. The blacked out parts may have led him away from the conclusion that Hojo wanted him to come to.

So what has been blacked out? Lucrecia's name? That she's Sephiroth's mother and Hojo is his father? References to pregnancy and birth that would inform Sephiroth that yes, he was born and not manufactured so therefore, yes, he was a human being that was fucked with in the womb? Mentions of Vincent? Anything that would justify or explain why his childhood was so awful and why he was kept isolated?

And as far as who did the redacting and when, you know Hojo did that shit. And he did it right after he decided that it would be great for science to drop Shinra's live nuke into a small town then slowly drive him to a breakdown with disinformation. I wonder how many entire books were removed before Sephiroth and the gang showed up.

I wonder if this will come up at all in part 3. If not, I'm just overthinking it as usual. But if it does...hmm.

[emphasisonthehomo]

PLEASE tell me about trans tommy

OKAY YES I'VE BEEN SHAKING HIM IN A JAR FOR THE PAST COUPLE MONTHS!

Vague spoilers for my still unposted fic.

Tommy's birthday is January 1, 1985 because I like the idea of him being a holiday baby. I made him 39 only so that Buck can bake him a ridiculous OVER THE HILL cake once his 40th rolls around.

Tommy's an only child from Small Faketown, Alaska. It's near Bethel with a population >700. His mom is a hair dresser and his dad's a bush pilot. Assigned Co-Pilot At Birth. Tommy actually learned how to fly a plane way before he knew how to drive. He didn't get his driver's license until he was in the army.

The general vibe around town is that Of Course [Redacted Deadname] is going to take over the Kinard Family Business of Being a Pilot at some point. Instead Tommy enlists in the army right out of high school to gtfo of there. Neither of his parents are happy about it. In fact they're quite pissed.

Tommy's in the army for 6 years, during which he has a very torrid romance and engagement that ends badly. He also spends that time realizing that yeah. He really wants/needs to transition. Which of course he can't do while he's enlisted.

When his 6 years are up he goes back home to Small Faketown, and proceeds to have a a very nasty fight with his parents when he tells them about his plans to transition. So he fucks back off to the lower 48 and goes no contact.

His healthcare as a veteran doesn't cover anything for his transition. He's got savings that he uses for some of it (jumping through the hoops to get on testosterone, getting his name change, etc) but for what he wants done he really needs a job w/ good insurance. And being a firefighter is a union gig.

He winds up at the 118 relatively early into his transition, and because he's so paranoid about passing, he lets himself get pushed way deep into the closet. He's overcompensating to avoid being outed as gay and/or trans. It's toxic masculinity hell. Looking back he's not proud of his behavior, but he gets better, Character Growth, etc. etc.

By the time Tommy meets Buck, he's at the point where he's fairly casual about his sexuality, even though he's definitely not out as trans. But he's working on being open and Living His Best Life and all that good stuff.

[sweetestpopcorn]

Hi popcorn! Firstly I love your fics, they are such a wild ride lol and you can tell how much effort you’ve put into them. I found it interesting to have the Aegon/Helaena match be suggested by Otto, I’d always imagined it as Alicent’s idea to show their “Targaryen-ness” to the world. In your fic, who was Alicent considering for Argon’s wife instead do you think, since she knew he would someday need a “Queen”. Or was she just not thinking that far ahead lol

Hi there 😊 and sorry for this delay.

Thank you so much for your beyond kind words, and yes, it was much effort 🥲

I do believe the idea came from Otto in canon (Fire&Blood - asoiaf) so I wanted to keep it the same here. Otto was always the "head" behind the Greens, the one actually trying to do something and to move the pieces to first try to name Aegon as heir - before being dismissed in 109 AC - and then trying to name him king - in 129 AC. Alicent was always too preoccupied with finding ways to insult and spread rumours about Rhaenyra - e.g., "Do keep trying, eventually you might get one who looks like you." and "Ser Criston protects the princess from her enemies but who protects the princess from Ser Criston" - but she actually did very little that was useful to their cause. The only thing she actually did that was a smart move was getting Criston Cole to their side, but again, this is painted more as something to spite Rhaenyra, and having a good ally comes second.

I can actually see it being maybe part Otto for wanting to give Aegon a Targaryen wife to have Targaryen children - as noted by Lord Beesbury it did seem like not being full Targaryen/being less Targaryen than Rhaenyra could be used against him so this would be a smart move - and part maybe Eustace who was the court's confessor and liked Aegon as an attempt to get him to behave (i.e., stop sleeping around so much and being so lazy). Indeed, this is posed in "Fire and Blood" as one of the reasons to wed Aegon to Helaena, that being a husband and father could "calm him down" in a sense. Job well failed as we know, but to his credit, we have no evidence of Aegon mistreating Helaena, and actually evidence that he seemed to care for her a little bit (e.g., being jealous when Jacaerys asked to dance with her) and also for his children. He went half mad himself when Jaehaerys died, drinking to numb his pain, so he wasn't an unfeeling monster by any sense.

At the end of the day though, the final decision belonged to the King, but no doubt the Small Council would support this, even because, the vast majority for them with the death of Lord Lyonel Strong in 120 AC where Greens, and this was what Viserys decided. And mind you, he had had a 13 year old wife who had problems in the birthing bed for being bedded to soon, but that didn't stop him from wedding 13 year old Helaena off to Aegon.

Father of the Year 🙄

As for the second part of your question, Aegon was still only 15. I don't think Alicent was considering who he was to marry just yet.

PS: Asoiaf canon and characters only, so please leave the lizard redacted show out of it. Thanks!

[fromafars]

( MELTEM AKCOL. TWENTY SIX. CIS WOMAN. SHE / HER. ) since you aren’t aware of them yet… that’s ( ALEYNA DURMAZ ) wandering around in hollow creek! from what i know they’ve lived in hollow creek for ( HER WHOLE LIFE. ) i’m also aware of the fact that they work as a ( MUSIC STORE CLERK. ) in town! but if you were to ask me, what i see when i think about them are: ( GUITAR PICK NECKLACES, ALWAYS LOOKING FOR THAT SILVER LINING, HUMMING A SEEMINGLY FORGOTTEN CHILDHOOD LULLABY, SUNSHINE SMILES, SCRIBBLED SONG LYRICS. ) if anything, i feel like they could be ( CREATIVE, KIND-HEARTED, OBLIVIOUS & SCATTERBRAINED. ) it’s really weird, though… because they seem to be hiding something that no one else knows. but i sure do! and that is ( CLOSED FILE … REDACTED. ). wild, huh? i know. they’re hoping no one will ever find out. and the very last thing that i’d say about them is that they’re mainly known to be ( THE MUSO. ) just keep a lookout! who knows if they’re putting on a facade!

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: death & crime

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

full name: aleyna durmaz

nickname: ley, leyna

date of birth: august 28, 1998

gender: cis woman

pronouns: she/her

occupation: clerk at half note

birthplace: hollow creek, massachusetts

sexuality: bisexual

height: 5′5″

fluent in: english, turkish

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

born to a very chaotic household, aleyna's the youngest of 4

her dad has lowkey always lived a life of crime tbh and her mom was his high school sweetheart

it became glaringly obvious from a young age that whatever love her parents may have had for each other was long gone by the time she got into the picture

it felt like they were just together because they had already started a family and it was too late to back out now

the older she got, the worse it became. rumors flew around that her parents were cheating on each other, she could hear them fighting every night and she just wished they would throw in the towel and get a divorce already because yes, they were all still a family, but nobody was believing their marriage was anything but toxic

it probably didn't help that they lived in a mobile home that was waaaay too small to fit all of them and when she was older, aleyna came to realize that whatever money they did have that came from her dad was blood money or he got through shady circumstances

it got to a point that her dad was in a bad way with some worse people and for payback, her mother died in the crossfire

aleyna was just fourteen at this point and she was devastated. a girl still needed her mother and in the blink of an eye, she was gone

she was always taught to be tough but despite everything that she had been around growing up, aleyna held onto her optimism

she'd always, always choose being kind over anything else

she also doesn't like that her father's reputation bleeds into her and her brothers' lives. she's not her dad, and she 10000% disagrees with the things he has done. she knows she'd never fully understand why her dad does the things that he does, or the circumstances that got him to this point but the town is small and her father's reputation casts a very large and dark shadow over her and she hates it

she's been living here since she was born, barely even got out of the state, and she's pretty sure she'll die here tbh because it's home and she doesn't know anything else

she's worked jobs ever since she could so she's been everywhere. a maid at the pearl hotel, she paints houses, dogwalks, had a stint as a waitress at the local diner, a cashier at different businesses, using multiple jobs to pay her way through college (with some help from her older brothers) before she finally settled down as the clerk at half note as soon as she graduated

four years ago, right after her graduation, her eldest brother disappeared and there have been absolutely no answers

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒

+ optimistic, creative, kind-hearted

- oblivious, scatterbrained, fickle

𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒

full of fun facts herself tbh especially when it comes to specific songs/musicians/artists

is one of those people who can hear a song and be able to play it. also has a knack of being able to learn how to play any instrument quickly

her first love is her guitar which she stole from one of her older brothers when she was younger

has a chow chow named chowder who is always with her at half note. he's the cutest but laziest dog you'll ever meet. she's also a foster fail because she fostered this orange cat named dorito but she ended up adopting her

she's not the brightest cookie in the jar (pls dont ask her to do any math problem because she will cry) but that's okay because her strength lies in her creativity

music is her first love but she just loves everything that has to do with art -- dance, sculpting, theater, you name it

just a sweetheart tbh but she's also incredibly oblivious like she's friendly with everyone so she takes everybody as just being friendly back. she's sometimes oblivious when it comes to someone flirting with her

blossomed pretty late when it comes to that aspect because she doesn't want to rush into things (ie having a first kiss, having a first significant other) just because everyone else was doing it. it's all about the #vibes in the moment. if it feels right, then it's a go

despite the horrible example of her parents, she loves love but has also learned to be pretty carefree when it comes to relationships. if they happen, they happen. if they don't work out, then that's okay. at least they tried

lowkey has daddy issues tbh but who can blame her

is a fan of second chances <3 and third and fourth because she's stupid <3

would go to all the concerts if she had the money but alas she does not

just likes to be a positive vibe always, especially because she feels like the town has already been through so much

is also surprisingly a gym person

LOVES wearing pastel colors like she loves her basics too but she's always wearing something colorful and fun

as dumb as she may be in some aspects, especially in math and science and history, she's actually really good at picking up languages

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

older brothers (wc can be found on the main)

ride or die

girl gang

childhood friends who stayed friends

childhood friends who drifted apart

unexpected friends

a bad influence on her

a past hookup

a current hookup

exes that ended on good terms

exes that ended on bad terms (i'm gonna limit this to one)

family friends

fellow music lovers

her first relationship

frenemies where it is one-sided because aleyna thinks they're genuine friends rip

crushes maybe??

older sister vibes?

[roqueds]

 ⸻    meet   DEIZHA DAIVARI.  the  barista  at  bake and bloom  is  glen  ellen’s  very  own   BARBIE DOLL,   who  has  been  in  town  for  twenty four years. while  they  are  only  twenty six,    they  can  be  very   SELF - OBSESSED    but  if  their  friends  mentioned  them,    you’d  think  they  were  more  PERSONABLE.   in  a  town  where  every  one  knows  everyone,    it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret,     but  i  think  the  killer  knows  that  [REDACTED],     and  it’s  bound  to  get  out  sometime  soon. 

                            pinterest. musings. wanted connections.

full name    -—    deizha emilie daivari.  nicknames    -—     none. give her one! occupation    -—     barista at bake and bloom, former almost - influencer.  age    -—     twenty - six.  date of birth    -—     july 23rd. place of birth    -—     glen ellen, california. gender    -—     cis woman.

height    -—     5’4.   eye color    -—      brown.   hair color    -—      brown.  distinguishing features    -—      none.

parents -—  siblings    -—  cassandra moressey ( p. daivari ).   ahmed daivari. step - siblings, wanted connections.   children  -—    none. pets   -—    none.

boy  meets  girl,  girl  meets  boy,  they  fall  and  love,  get  married,  have  a  baby  in  the  carriage  …  or  that's  how  it  was  supposed  to  be.  it  goes  moreso  like  this:  boy  meets  girl,  girl  sees  dollar  signs,  they  get  married,  woman  becomes  distant  but  not  enough  that  he  wants  to  divorce.  that's  the  easy  part  of  it.  cassandra  came  from  her  own  line  of  money,  something  she  never  wanted  to  give  up  for  nothing.  why  do  that  when  you  have  everything  you  could  ever  want  at  the  tip  of  your  fingers?  she  wouldn't  dare.  however  it  was  an  unspoken  requirement  that  she  needs  to  find  someone  as  equal  or  worth  more  than  her  —  her  siblings  did  it,  her  mother  did  it.  family  tradition  if  you  will. 

so  that's  what  she  did.  a  big  beautiful  wedding.  while  ahmed  saw  something  akin  to  love,  cassandra  hear  cash  registers  and  saw  dollar  signs  in  his  eyes.  they  got  married,  and  within  a  year,  deizha  was  born  and  soon  spoiled  absolutely  rotten.  not  that  her  mother  had  much  to  do  with  that,  considering  every  chance  she  got,  the  newborn  was  shuffled  off  to  family  or  to  nannies.  while  her  husband  would  take  constant  trips  to  los  angeles  for  work,  cassandra  would  be  stuck  dealing  with  the  child  —  or,  only  if  she  couldn't  push  her  off  onto  someone  else.

for  what  it's  worth,  deizha  didn't  really  notice  anything  wrong  with  the  family  dynamic  until  she  was  older.  sure,  she  wished  her  mother  would  do  more  than  whisk  her  away  to  be  taken  care  of  by  someone  else,  hand  her  a  card  or  some  cash  and  send  her  on  her  way.  ahmed  tried  his  best,  when  he  was  around.  taking  her  out  to  do  things,  taking  her  places  on  vacations,  actually  spending  time  with  her.  the  best  memories  of  childhood  are  filled  with  him,  cassandra  nowhere  to  be  found.

she's  gone,  one  day  —  there's  very  little  explanations  within  her  10  year  old  earshot.  whispers  of  divorce,  affair,  court.  she's  angry.  gone,  without  a  word,  like  deizha  meant  nothing  to  her.  and  thinking  about  it,  she  probably  didn't. 

things  changed,  from  then  on. 

the  need  for  attention,  if  not  from  her  mother,  than  from  just  about  anyone  else  was  greater  than  more  others.  anything  she  could  to  get  attention,  she  could.  changing  her  appearance  and  fitting  in  with  the  popular  crowd,  anything  to  fit  in.  she  became  cold,  mean  —  beyond  the  typical  teenage  angst,  deizha  was  just  truly  sad.  yes,  she  had  her  father.  he  did  all  he  could  for  her  …  but  what  made  her  mother  just  up  and  leave  without  saying  a  word  to  her?  the  anger  built  up,  bubbled  over  onto  the  floor. 

ahmed  did  everything  he  could  for  even  a  glimpse  at  a  real,  genuine  smile.  bought  her  horses  and  took  her  on  trips.  did  everything  in  his  power  to  be  a  good  father,  and  to  make  sure  that  she  was  provided  for.  the  work  trips  still  went  on,  but  more  often  than  not,  she'd  tag  along  –  that  was  her  first  taste  of  los  angeles,  and  ever  since,  she'd  set  her  eyes  on  walking  on  the  hollywood  boulevard.  no  matter  what,  she'd  get  the  attention  of  millions  of  people.  that's  the  goal,  wasn't  it?  all  eyes  on  her. 

she  became  a  queen  bee,  at  least  to  herself.  the  levels  of  self  esteem  were  so  greatly  exaggerated  that  she  believed  in  them  herself,  delusionally.  a  tornado  of  things  that  eventually  lead  her  to  believe  that  if  her  father  put  the  bill  down,  she  could  do  just  about  anything  —  and  while  not  meaning  to,  acting  just  like  the  woman  who'd  left  her  to  begin  with.  she  doesn't  like  to  think  about  that,  and  every  single  time  the  topics  come  up  it  gets  buried  with  the  fishes.

she  barely  works  her  way  through  school,  graduating  by  the  skin  of  her  teeth  with  the  help  of  whatever  nerd  will  take  a  50  dollar  bribe.  it  was  here  where  she  had  to  make  a  choice:  college,  chase  her  dream  (  of  what?  )  ,  get  a  job.  she  tried  the  job,  first  —  getting  a  job  at  her  father's  high  end  real  estate  in  the  southern  part  of  california  wasn't  necessarily  on  anyone's  bingo  cards,  but  she  could  shoot  a  camera  and  answer  phone  calls  for  clients  (  aka,  just  passing  them  through  to  whoever  they  were  trying  to  speak  to  )  .  it  wasn't  hard,  but  deizha  also  doesn't  do  hard.   

she's  fired  from  the  job,  though  she  could've  puppy-dog  eyed  her  way  into  staying,  but  she  had  her  eyes  set  on  one  place  in  particular.   

goes  to  school  at  a  local  community  college  in  the  los  angeles  area.  at  20,  she  doesn't  have  much  ambition  to  do  anything  productive,  and  while  her  father  had  thought  about  footing  the  bill  for  something  more  ..  prestigious,  if  she  wasn't  going  to  take  it  seriously,  why  would  he?  this  is  where  their  relationship  began  to  become  strained  —  the  real  cause  was  his  new  wife.  after  his  new  marriage,  his  new  wife  began  to  really  take  hold  on  how  spending,  and  how  it  was  towards  deizha.  they  fought,  constantly,  about  how  he  still  babied  his  daughter.  how  she  doesn't  work  for  what  she  has,  how  she  never  has  had  to. 

so,  she  does  —  there's  a  degree  in  marketing  in  there  somewhere,  but  it's  undeserved  (  did  i  mention  more  bribes?  )  and,  frankly,  sitting  useless  in  her  closet  somewhere.  she  did  something  to  appease  her  dad  —  and  get  access  to  the  trust  fund  she  had  set  up  unlocking  at  23.  and  thanks  to  that  lovely  thing,  she  was  able  to  get  her  own  apartment  and  try  to  kick  start  a  career  in  …  something.  instagram,  mostly.

vlogs  were  posted,  though  boring.  photos  posted,  though  remained  unliked  by  the  masses.  she  told  herself  these  things  take  time  —  so  she  tried,  and  tried,  and  tried.  the  thing  is,  it  just  wasn't  working.  as  much  money  as  you  have  (  and  since  she  stopped  taking  ‘donations’  from  her  father  —  thanks  to  you,  witch  of  a  step  -  mother  )  ,  hers?  was  running  out.  not  working.  not  doing  anything  semi-productive.  she's  just   …  there.  like  a  rich  girl  gone  wild.  going  out,  partying,  trying  to  make  connections  that'll  land  her  where  she  wants  and  it  just  doesn't  happen.  in  all  honesty,  it's  kind  of  embarrassing  for  her.  thank  god  the  point  of  instagram  is  to  making  your  life  look  perfect,  not  that  it  actually  has  to  be. 

there's  partial  truths  in  the  reason  that  after  two  years  of  solely  living  in  los  angeles,  that  she's  back:  yes,  she's  back  because  of  her  father's  failing  health.  but  there'  more  to  do  —  something  her  pride  won't  let  her  say  out  loud,  something  she  doesn't  want  to  face  for  her  own  lack  of  ambition.  so  here  she  sits,  working  at  bake  and  bloom  and  trying  to  realign  her  life  choices.  it's  not  going  well.

homegirl  has  been  HUMBLED.  she  feels  as  if  she's  been  entirely  too  wrong  about  the  way  she's  gone  about  things,  especially  as  a  teenager.  she  saw  one  of  those  five  dollar  psychics  who  told  her  to  make  amends  before  it's  too  late  —  now  with  everything  popping  up,  she's  eager  to  do  so  in  order  to  save  her  own  soul. 

a  girly  girl,  almost  to  a  fault.  will  hold  traffic  to  apply  a  lipstick  in  her  car  mirror.  is  always  at  least  twenty  minutes  late  to  every  function,  due  to  deciding  her  outfit.  a  perfectionist,  in  this  aspect,  and  it's  quite  annoying.

still  deeply  insecure,  and  craving  a  connection  she's  unsure  of.  for  what  it's  worth,  she  has  definitely  chilled  out  a  bit  since  high  school,  but  not  by  much.  there's  an  air  of  awkwardness  about  her,  now  that  she's  back,  because  how  can  every  dog  have  it's  day  when  you're  a  loser  who  couldn't  even  crack  10k  instagram  followers  for  a  brand  deal?  that's  a  little  dramatic,  but  that's  how  it  feels. 

has  since  deleted  social  media  upon  returning. 

definitely  a  bit  kinder  than  she  was.  humbled,  i  tell  you. 

KEY PLAYERS : WANTED.

i’d love to see her step - siblings. in my mind, they definitely did not get off on the right foot ( aka, deizha was jealous — of what girl? unclench. ) so now that she’s back, i see a lot of snide comments, rude remarks, general dislike in our midst. their parents got married approximately 3 years ago after a whirlwind romance and ever since, they’ve been together.

give me some old friends she hasn’t spoken to since leaving. in my head she essentially dropped everyone without a word, which, obviously, was not cool deizha!!!

people she’s bullied in the past and is now making amends. and, well, they can forgive or they can laugh in her face. my preferred answer is the former, but forgive and forget is a real thing.

regulars at bake and bloom she gives free things to under the radar. the girl loves to flirt, so if you’re cute then aha-

as kind as she’s trying to be, homegirl still has that mouth on her — so give me people who find her entertaining, people who want to get to know her. people who dislike her after hearing her reputation or people who dislike the things she’s said.

enemies, friends, hookups, exes from los angeles, etc etc.

[sarahblueskyyyy]

Lead

Ghost x Reader, Detectives! AU, drama, mystery, short-fic, crime, murder, detail description about blood and crime scene, angst, hurt/comfort, bad ending, thriller. Dead Dove: Do not Eat.

Photo by Cassi Josh on Unsplash

"Let's look at the bright side. We can try to do a thorough analysis one more time and let's see if we can catch the killer faster than he kills his next victim. Right, Riley?" Your grin is wide, smeared with innocence and unbelievable amount of excitement.

Simon sighs and rolls his eyes. Oh, his life.

FPS

Forensic Pathology Services

THIS IS A CONFIDENTIAL REPORT TO THE CORONER AND SHOULD NOT BE DISCLOSED TO A THIRD PARTY WITHOUT HER PERMISSION.

Final Post Mortem Report

Dr. Kate Laswell – Date of Birth: 11.03.75

At approximately 0100 after midnight, 5th August 2023, at the request of Greater Manchester Police, I attended the crime scene of—

His eyes jump and skip the beginning part of the report. He doesn’t need to know the unravelling part of the corpse.

When he finds the information he was searching for, he continues reading, absorbing every single word in it.

SCENE EXAMINATION

The crime scene, for the lack of a better word, was anarchic. It was undoubtedly a torture room.

The body belongs to a woman in her [redacted]. She was tied up in a chair, nails were pulled out from her fingers, and were lined up on top of a desk near the door. Both of her shoulders were dislocated and her right popliteal bone was broken. Judging by the state of the body, she has been dead for at least 2 hours before 0100. 

Her partner, who is also a police officer, managed to catch one of the perpetrators, but received a strike on his head as well.

Bloodstaining, contamination on clothing, and contamination on exposed body surfaces.

A white shirt, jeans, and short-heeled shoes. Clothes were intact, except for the damage they’ve taken.

There was bloodstaining on both sides of the sleeves.

There was some bloodstaining on top of her jeans in the right knee area.

Dirt and bloodstain over the ankles and shoes region. Possible cause: running in the mud before finally captured and killed.

Heavy bloodstaining over the neck, cheek, jaw, lips, arms, and hands. It was suspected that the victim received multiple physical abuse to her face and arms using dull weapons such as a hammer.

Lighter bloodstaining over her chest.

Small bloodspots are found on the inner side of her stomach and back—

When someone calls his name, his eyelids flutter. He closes up the paper, then sneers. Whatever. Job has been done. He gets up and answers the calling of his title.

.

.

.

"A 45-year-old woman, known as Larisa Barkov, ex-wife of Roman Barkov. Cause of death, loss of blood; hypovolemic shock. Precise cuttin' in jugular veins, artery, and behind the knee; popliteal veins." Kyle huffs. He traces the outline of the corpse with his eyes, then moves his orbs towards the photos that have been taken before by the forensics.

"Ye must be kiddin' me," Johnny chirped in. He looks as frustrated as the others. "Last mudder looks like a perfectionist did it, noo they role-playin’ as a surgeon?”

Price is pressing his nape. "It's indeed all over the place. What do you think, Simon?"

Simon blinks. He glances at you before he answers the police inspector, calm and unwavering, "Well, the method is different each time. It's hard to believe that these are the work of the same person. But then again, the consistency of the murder timing, the body placement, and the fact that every victim we find used to know each other ...."

You shrug, looking at the body. Poor, poor woman—her pupils are blown; she died in a state of great shock. Probably couldn't believe that this is the way she dies. Her blood was gushing out faster than her brain could comprehend and her heart was pumping empty vessels. As a result; here she is now—mouth gaping, eyes rolled back, and a pool of blood forming a big circle around her. Her body is bloated—all swelling and her face looks like it’s a red balloon, ready to burst. One poke on her eyeball and it probably will.

"Too much of a coincidence, don't ya think?" You mutter.  

"You're right," Kyle stands up from his squat position. He trades gaze with his team. "Might have to re-analyze everythin'. Even our profiler is nearly throwing himself out of the window because of this case. Whoever does this; they are clearly familiar with how an investigation works."

"Ye sayin' he's someone like us?"

"There is a possibility," Price fills in Johnny's direct question. "The way the perpetrator purposely messing with us with different murder methods, rearranges the victims’ homes and represent themselves as someone different, yet showin' us that they are one and the same through the connection between the victims ... they're toyin' with us. Someone who knows how we move and think."

"I don't like th' soond ay thes ...."

You give them a soft, hopefully—comforting smile. "Let's look at the bright side. We can try to do a thorough analysis one more time and let's see if we can catch the killer faster than he kills his next victim. Right, Riley?"

Simon rolls his eyeballs to the corners of his eyes; staring at you before he sighs and says, "Let's just pack it up for tonight. I'll make the report and let's see what we can find out in the mornin'."

Price nods silently. His eyes, blue and dark, dabbed with tiredness, looking at the man with black, skull-painted mask. He sighs.

.

Simon’s gaze is set on every picture and document that are laying on the desk. The take out he ordered; a simple fried noodle from a Chinese restaurant, is ignored and already half-emptied. The brown eyes are scanning through the data with a keen scrutiny of words and numbers and the visuals that are carved into the paper.

These pictures are not usually paired with dinner. But he needed to eat something; his stomach was protesting; emitting various kinds of gurgles. So, he settled for the easiest choice.

You tug the corner of your lips. “Shall we start from the beginning?”

Simon doesn’t answer.

You decide to start anyway. “First victim; Hadir Karim, long lost brother of Commander Farah Karim from Dubai Police Force. In early 2003, Hadir joined the Bratva1 and had been active as a brigadier since then. He was assigned to handle all the organisation’s operations in here, Manchester. He was murdered in his home 2 months ago at precisely 11 P.M. The inside of his home was purposely re-arranged to imitate a torture room; dark, flickering light, scattered and broken furniture, and a single chair where he was tied up and killed with all his nails were ripped off his fingers.”

Simon looks down and shuts his eyes. With his knuckles, he’s pressing the middle point between his eyebrows, trying to crumble down the throbbing in his head that has been bothering him since three months ago.

You shift your attention to the second document. Photos were compiled neatly, a contradiction of what it portrays. Shame. The pretty face of the man in that picture was mauled ruthlessly. “Within a span of two weeks, the next victim was found. Hassan Zyani; the former right-hand man of General Ghorbrani from Iran's Quds Force. After the death of his general, Hassan Zyani joined the Bratva and quickly enthralled the top executives. He climbed rank as the bookkeeper and was tightly connected in terms of work with his direct man; Karim. What a coincidence, right?”

Simon scoffs. “Time of death was 11 P.M., in his own house that has been trashed around to imitate a burglar’s work.”

“Correct,” you nod. Your hips move as your legs take some steps. One, two—until you get closer to the man in the skull mask. “The third victim is Roman Barkov. One of the most trusted men of the Boss. Ranked as the Two-Spies and pleaded loyalty to Vladimir Makarov, Roman Barkov was his Judge, Jury, and Executioner. When there is a mutiny inside the organisation, or when an outsider gets and or sniffs too close to them …,” you float your sentence in the middle of thin air. Giving him a short smile. “… it’s Barkov’s job to pursue the outsider, interrogate them, and kill them. But of course, Hadir Karim and Hassan Zyani played a big part in that game."

Simon scowls at you. However, you pay no heed. His glare is an empty threat, an accessory tied up to his hardened demeanour. At least—you know that’s the case for you. 

“With the same time of death, he was found in his house, died by the shock of torture and his nails all were stripped from his fingers, then was lined-up. Judging by the crime scene, his house was untouched by the killer, and it shows us just like how Barkov died; he was a perfectionist.”

Simon lets out a soft hmn.

“And, the newest victim is—”

“—Larissa Barkov,” Simon cuts you off. The hammering pain in his head has not subsided at all. His brown eyes dart at you, irritation seeps into each syllable, “I know this. Your repetition is redundant.”

“Hey, I’m just helping you!” A grin flashes all across your face. Too cheerful for a detective who works in a police force—for an individual who deals with carcasses on a daily basis. “You might miss an important part.”

“Yeah?” Now, his voice is thick with sarcasm. “And what the fuck it might be?”

You hum. “For example … why were all the victims murdered exactly at eleven P.M.? Why does the perpetrator bother rearranging their homes? Was he trying to send a message? If that’s the case, then what kind of message? To whom, for what purpose? Is it revenge, or—is it entirely something else? Why did he kill the ex-wife of the sovietnik3, Roman Barkov? To let him have the taste of losing someone dearly?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

You smile. “You love me the most when I open my mouth—wide and nicely.”

Simon widens his eyes. Eyebrows knitted together and to be perfectly honest—he is not surprised at all. He knows you too well, he has an expectation that the things that are verbalized from your thoughts are either messy, unhinged, or straight up obscene. Sometimes, it’s the concoction of all three.

“In any case, we know why, don’t we—Simon?”

“For God’s sake—"

Knock-knock.

“Simon? You there? Can I come in?”

Price’s voice is muffled a little by the door that stands between him and the room that Simon is occupying right now. The detective takes a deep breath, shoots you a glare, before answering, “Yes. I’m here.”

Price takes the statement as a consent for him to approach Simon. The Inspector grabs the door’s handle, rotates it slightly, and expands an access for him to enter the room. After he goes in, he closes the door with a push using his back.

Price throws a furtive peek towards two boxes of fried noodles. A take-out. One of them is half-eaten, and the other is untouched—sitting compliantly on top of the desk, with wrapped chopsticks on its side and all.

“I thought we are gonna review this in the morning, hm-mnn?” Price delivers a mild and harmless teasing.

Simon tugs the corner of his lips a little. It isn’t obvious under that mask, but—Price can see the way Simon’s eyes are lifted. “Sorry. Can’t help it. Just wanna solve this.”

You snort—trying your best to swallow back your laugh.

“You need to tone it down a little, Simon.” The tone of Price’ sentence is undoubtedly tender. It is not an absolute order nor an ultimatum—just a friendly, sympathetic reminder. “You’ll crash if you keep doing this.”

Simon doesn’t respond. Seeing that, you decide to return the remark on his behalf, “Work is his way to avoid overthinking, Sir. He’ll pipe down once he’s satisfied.”

Price sighs.

“Why are you here, Price?” Simon finally asks. “I’m sure there is something else beside the suggestion to sleep?”

This time—Price breathes out a playful sneer. He raises his right arm—his fingers are anchored to the files he’s been holding. “Your medical assessment.”

“What does it say?”

You’re gazing at them. Pupils are focusing on two men exchanging words and you intertwine your own fingers.

“You might wanna see it yourself. You’ve been ignoring this far too long—enough is enough,” Price tells him firmly. He puts down the document. For a moment, the blue eyes of his are softened, and he squeezes Simon’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Simon. I’m not telling you to get it over with, but—be kind to yourself. You might feel you’re fine, but it doesn’t hurt to admit that you’re not.”

Simon feels anger crawling up to his chest, then slowly bleeding to his head. But before it turns into something unretractable, he extinguishes it—calmly, within a heartbeat. His common sense and the cogs of his mind are working clearly and he knows better than to lash out.

“I know,” he utters. “Just … I don’t want to think about it. Working here is far better than—,” he stops.

—than staying at home, with the remnants of her in every part of the house?

Price completes the sentence in his own head, but he doesn’t transform it into a tangible voice. Instead, he takes a few seconds. He knows he needs to weigh every word; he’s walking on a thin line, and he has no choice but to tread carefully. “It wasn’t your fault, son. You did her best—she did too. And for what it’s worth—I believe she wouldn’t want to see you break yourself; for her or even your sake.”

Simon scoffs gently. “Just wanna live up to the expectation, Inspector.”

“Mh-hmn.” Price looks at the investigation board. Photos and information are neatly sticked there. Too precise for his liking. “And who knows, maybe this is their karma. You reap what you sow, right? Probably better for them to die and stop makin’ a mess in this town, or any other one.”

The brown-eyed man counters the half-hearted joke with the same tone, “Probably. Too bad, Price—if someone other than me heard you, you’d have been faced with arraignment real quick.”

Price’s lips curl up into a small smile. “Go home. Or wherever you want to be—but not here. Take a rest. Enjoy your night. ‘Ya hear me?”

Simon relaxes his body, falls his shoulders from its stiff stance before. He smiles and nods. “Crystal. Goodnight, Price.”

“Night, Simon.”

After Price’s withdrawal, silence fills the room once more. The ringing in Simon’s ear, however—remains intact, possibly gets louder in every passing time, echoing in his head.

Your call jerks him out, “Simon. Do you want to continue—or … perhaps go home and take a rest?”

You slant your head a little. Voice meek and sheepish—almost innocent, pristine like a growing child who knows nothing but the small world of her backyard. An extreme switch from the arrogant and witty behaviour you present before. An insane, inconsistent change that makes his head spiral; as if throwing him out of his reality.

However, hearing the geniality in his own ears, Simon sighs. The sharpness in his words erode when he says, “No—I don’t want to continue. Besides, look at the time. We’re almost late.”

You check the clock—hanging obediently at the wall. Ten past twenty. You beam, eyes are sparkling.

Simon’s lips form a simple curve. “Let’s go.”

“Okay!”

.

.

.

His eye is sealed into the crosshair. At the end of that scope, there is a man, pacing back and forth in his place. A skyscraper building, mimics a castle with all its residents inside of it. Well—it might not be a hyperbole to call him a king.

“Aha. Vladimir Makarov himself—Godfather of Bratva, the Boss, the man in charge. What a title.” You sag your body against the short wall. A simple barrier to enunciate there is a void across the roof you’re sitting on. Head straight up ahead. The visual of a night sky is served at your sight.

Simon let the red mark trailing the man’s every footstep.

Makarov is on the phone with someone. His body gesture is erratic and a clear dread can be seen through the way he’s screaming. His nerves are bulging on his neck, sternocleidomastoid muscles are lengthened from the base of his jaw to his clavicula—every time he shrieks to whoever pitiful receiver at the end of that phone call.

His first and foremost man; a security guard of his—Imran Zakhaev, is standing near him.

“You’re not gonna do the usual, Simon?”

“What usual?” His voice is deep and raspy and the question is rhetorical.

“You know,” you alter your body, now facing the same direction he is. “Trash around the house, rearrange it, or—something?”

“No need,” he declares, not so powerful that the world can hear it, but making sure you are able to. “This is just to finish the job.”

You grin. “To banish evil down to its roots, hmn?”

Simon stops the chatter. His eye is fixating on the target. And bless—or curse?—the skill of his that has been honed since the first time he entered this industry; when he pulls the trigger, a silver bullet glides from the barrel, steadfast towards its destination, before accurately piercing the skull of that poor man, rendered him useless in a matter of a second, and his body falls to the floor like a opossums pretend to be dead.

The difference is—he is dead.

Simon launched one more bullet. This time, it ends Imran Zakhaev’s life.

The grin in your lips grows. “Finally satisfied?”

“Humn.” He’s tidying up his rifle, putting it back to its case.

“Should we go back, then?” You stand and stretch your arms up in the air. Your smile persists as usual, sweet and naïve. “Maybe we could buy a gelato on the way home? I really want a salted caramel—oh, and maybe we could try the stracciatella!”

Simon huffs. He zips up the case. He’s still sitting there, taking his breath. Dear whoever God is listening—his head is hurting, and sound won’t crumble no matter how many pills he has gulped down.

“Simon?” You blink, sitting near him. Your hands reach his. He can feel the warmth and it makes his stomach hurl. It makes his chest tightens and he knows it’s a really short countdown until his heart is stopped—either by the headache, or by his own hand.

“Let’s go home?” you offer.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Can’t do it anymore. I’m really—tired.”

“Yes,” you affirm. “That’s why, we go home, take a rest, sleep, and—wake up as usual tomorrow! Okay? You promised Johnny to bring him a sandwich from your favourite place, right?”

You are greeted by silence. Simon sighs and he reaches behind his back—and when you realize it, his fingers already clamped on a small gun.

“Nononono, Simon, aren’t we—doing just well?” You force a smile. A nervous, desperate, laughter is rumbling from the base of your larynx. “It’s finished! It’s finished, right? Please?”

“Stop—fuck.” His chest is up and down, slowly, following the heaviness of his breathing pace. Your voice lingering inside his eardrums, making its way through his head, and the sweetness in it is almost sickening. “Stop talking.”

Your eyes broaden when he lays the muzzle in his temple.

“Si—”

.

.

.

.

.

Patient Medical Record

Patient Information: Simon Riley

Date of Birth: 18 April 1989

Address: [redacted]

Height – Weight: 6’2 – 224 lbs

In Case of Emergency: [redacted. The involved party has passed away]

Diagnosis: Non-penetrating TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury)

By Dr. Phillip Graves

As requested by Greater Manchester Police, a thorough medical examination was conducted on Mr. RILEY, Simon, after a case on 5th August 2023. Patient received a hard blow on his frontal lobe. Physically speaking, the blunt trauma on the skull is not severe. However, a neurological and psychological exam are encouraged to provide more information regarding the patient’s motor and sensory skills, test hearing and speech, coordination and balance, changes in mood or behaviour, and mental status. It is not uncommon for patients with TBI experiencing auditory and sensory hallucination.

Warning: Individual with a history of TBI never experience suicidal thoughts, however, there is a high possibility that a PTSD or a recent lost of an important person could increasing the risk for suicidal thoughts and behaviours. Mr. Simon Riley is encouraged to seek medical help.

.

A/N:

Bratva: Russian Mafia

The hierarchy is basically like this:

1. Boss/Godfather/Pakhan

2. Two Spies/Sovietnik

3. Bookkeeper

4. Brigadier

LMAO this is such a cliche story, I like it. I’ll come back next time with a much lighter story because my brain hurts lololol.

[sgm616]

Yelena’s Baby

[Not my photo]

Yelena x female reader (platonic)

*Teen pregnancy*

A/n -> I have a learning disability so if my stories don't make sense or the spelling is wrong that is why.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sara was torturing/teaching Natalia. Just as Sara is about to show Natalia a new method of torture, the door to the room opens. A woman standing outside with her arms crossed.

"Your uncle wishes to see you"

Sara dropped what she was doing. Bowing her head before speaking to the woman. "Yes, Madam B." She unties Natalia. "You are dismissed now, we will continue this another time." With that, she follows her mentor.

Dreykov's Office

Sara walks up to her uncle's office. On Dreykov's camera, he sees her and unlocks his door. "Come in" she walks in. "Madam B said you wish to speak to me?"

"Yes, come have a seat, my dear niece." She sits down. He pauses for a shot and slides it towards her. "Drink." He throws a folder on her lap. "It appears one of my widows has been impregnated by one of my guards."

"So you want me to torture and kill both of them?" A slap echoed throughout the office. "If you let me finish what I was going to say you would know." He mutters "Stupid girl."

Sara bowing head and placing her hand on her heart. "Forgive me, uncle."

"As I was saying one of my widows is with child. Your mission is to stay with her watch her make sure she's taken care of. Read her file it will have all the information on her." She picks up the file her uncle tossed on the table. She starts reading it out loud

"Yelena Belova. Age 16. Date of birth redacted. Mother unknown. Father unknown- this doesn't give me anything important about her except her age and name!"

"Does it look like I care? You're one of my best spies! figure it out yourself." He takes another shot of vodka and then wakes his hand. "You're dismissed."

With that, she leaves her uncle's office.

As she was heading to her chambers she saw Madam B walking past her. The older woman stops in her tracks. "What do you want my niece?" She spoke softly. Both widows were facing the directions they were going but stood next to each other. "I need information about a girl named Yelena Belova."

"Your uncle told me not to give you any personal information about the girl but I can tell you this...go to mission files and go to the year 1992 there you can find more about this girl."

After a few minutes of searching for the files, she was able to find what she was looking for. Once she was done reading her next journey was to find the woman who raised her for 3 years. Milena Vostokoff.

Sara's and Yelena's Chambers

Sara was patiently waiting for Yelena. The door opens it God drags her Yelena shoves it so to the floor. Sara immediately runs over to the young girl helping her up.

Anger was running through her. She wanted to yell at the soldier but remained calm. To calm. "What is your name soldier?" He doesn't respond. "Fine if you don't tell me, I'll just tell my uncle, your master, that you mistreated our guest. And I know he gave you strict orders to bring her here unharmed. Oh look here, she has scrapes on her hands and knees. Judging by how would you push her she's going to have some swelling and nasty bruises on her knees. Now tell me boy, who would you want to get punished? Me or my uncle?"

The soldier knew he would be killed by Dreykov in the worst way possible if Sara told on him. He rather have Dreykov's niece give him the consequences hoping just maybe that she can spare him from a painful death.

"Boris ma'am my name is Boris."

"Well, Boris today is your lucky day I won't tell my uncle of what you did nor will I torture you are dismissed."

"Yes ma'am thank you ma'am" As he is leaving the room a gunshot is heard as well as a dead body falling to the ground

Sara noticed Yelena was looking a bit pale. The smell of blood must have triggered her morning sickness. "Sorry about that I'll have someone clean this up." She leads Yelena into a different room in hopes she feels better.

They sit across from each other. For the past two hours, they were sitting in silence. Sara breaks the awareness."So how far along are you?'

"Ah... about 12 weeks. I think." Sara nods unsure of what to say. That's when she thought of something. "Have you seen the doctors yet?"

"No-why am I here? And who are you? Why are you so concerned about me and this thing that's growing inside of me?" Not realizing how harsh she was towards Sara. Sara knew Yelena would never have snapped at one of her speakers. It must be the hormones. She read some articles about the early stages of pregnancy.

"My name is Sara. You might have heard about Dreykov's niece from the older girls. Thats me. To be honest, I'm not his neise. But that story is for another day. My mission here is to take care of you and to make sure that the fetus inside of you is strong and healthy. Dreykov's orders. You're lucky, usually my uncle has me execute them."

HOURS LATER...

"Diner is ready."

They walk towards the table. on the table is a full set of different foods. Sara noticed Yelena's confusion about what was on the table. "What is it? Is there something wrong with the food?

Does any of the food I made for you make you nauseous?"

"Huh? no-its just..."

Sara understood what Yelena was getting at. "Not the usual food we eat."

"Yeah. Why?"

Sara eats a small portion of her food before speaking. "Well, General Dreykov has ordered me to make you real fresh food. food that is pregnancy safe of course. You my dear need the right nutrients for that fetus to grow health." She points to Yelena's stomach. "Plus a spider told me you love Mac&cheese."

First Appointment

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

Sara knew who was behind the door. she tells Yelena to turn around and put her hands on the wall. Sara does the same thing. she yells to the other person to come in.

"I'll set up by the couches. Once I'm done you may leave your current positions." Said the doctor.

A few minutes later...

"Name."

Sara thought that this was unnecessary. The doctor should have known the whole story about this girl. "Is this necessary?" The doctor ignores Sara. "Name." She asked in an agitating tone.

Sara could tell that Yelena was nervous but kept it in. "Yelena Belova."

The doctor rights Yelena's name on the medical papers. "Age" Same tone in her voice.

"16 ma'am." This time she looks directly at the teen. "When was your last mission?"

"2 weeks ago. Why?"

"Have you recently been exposed to anything that could be toxic?"

"No. not that I'm aware of." Yelena was showing a bit her nervousness now. You can slightly tell by her voice but can be easily seen in her eyes.

"When you were on your mission were there any areas where malaria, tuberculosis, Zika virus, monkeypox, or other infectious diseases were going around?"

The teen thinks about it for a second before speaking. "No."

"Now it's time for your Physical exam.”

"Physical exam? What's that? I thought-"

The doctor interrupts Yelena. "It's to find out how much weight you need to gain for a healthy pregnancy, I will measure your weight and height and calculate your body mass index. I will also do a breast exam and a pelvic exam."

An Hour Later...

"Now that the physical exam is done, I will be doing your blood test." Yelena jumps up from her medical exam chair. "Blood test? Why do I need a blood test? I thought you were only here to check on the fetus?" Sara grabs ahold of Yelena's hand. Trying to calm the girl down.

"it's to check your blood type. This includes your Rh status. Rh factor is an inherited trait that refers to a protein found on the surface of red blood cells. Your pregnancy might need special care if you're Rh negative and your baby's father is Rh positive.

"is that it?" Said Sara.

"And to measure her hemoglobin. Hemoglobin is an iron-rich protein found in red blood cells that allows the cells to carry oxygen from your lungs to other parts of your body. Hemoglobin also carries carbon dioxide from other parts of your body to your lungs so that it can be exhaled. Low hemoglobin or a low level of red blood cells is a sign of anemia. Anemia can make you feel very tired, and it may affect your pregnancy. The blood tests will also detect infections such as hepatitis B, syphilis, gonorrhea, chlamydia, and HIV, the virus that causes AIDS. After your blood sample, we will need a urine sample.

"WHAT!!"

Night time

"It says you might notice changes in your body early in your pregnancy. Your-umm breasts might be tender and swollen. Nausea with or without vomiting is also common. Huh? I'm guessing that's what morning sickness is."

"Why is it called morning sickness? I'm nauseated all day long."

"Nauseated?" She chuckles at that word. "It's the actual word. Only stupid people use that word. Don't believe me look it up."

Sara put up her hands. Surrendering to the girl. "Okay"

Months Later...

Yelena just finished making herself a fruit salad with hot sauce on top when she feels a strange sensation in her stomach. She drops her bowl, which causes it to shatter. "Sara!"

Sara was reading a mission file when she heard a crashing sound and then Yelena yelling her name. "Are you okay?! Is it the baby?!" Yelena doesn't speak. She just looks down at her stomach. "Yelena! Fucking hell! What's going on? Do I need to call the-" Yelena grabs Sara's hand and places it on the side of her stomach. Both spy and assassin feel something kicking where their hands are placed.

That's when it clicked inside her head.

It was the baby. The baby was kicking for the first time. Normally a baby would kick after 12 weeks but for some reason, this kid waited till they were 26 weeks (6 months). "Doc...tor. Is that...was-" another kick happened. "She's kicking." This was the first time Yelena called her child something that wasn't or alien thing. "Wow! She's a fighter alright. Just like her mother."

9 Months

"Sara."

"wha-what's wrong"

She said tiredly. She noticed was bent over one hand on her back and the other on her stomach. "Is it the baby?"

She nods her head.  "this can't be happening." Tears were falling on her face "I don't want my baby to be born here. I don't want them to live this life." Groaning in pain as she expresses her feelings.

Sara dislocates her thumb. She walks over to her. "It can't be a boy. Please let it be a girl. Please." Yelena said to herself or maybe god. Whoever she was talking to she was just hoping someone would listen to her prayers.

She grabs her friend's hand. "Promise me that no matter what the sex is, this child and you will escape."

"What?!" She squeezes Sara's hand "Promise me!" She then quietly says. "Please." Sara looks into her eyes. She knows it was risky but if there was a slim chance that she and the baby could escape then that meant the child wouldn't have to live the life both women had faced for their whole life. "I promise. I will protect this child till my very last breath."

9 hours later of labor for Yelena.

"I can't do this Sara! I-I just can't it hurts too much." She quietly said the last part. "Don't let them hear you say that, my uncle is watching us," Sara whispers into Yelena's ear. "You got this Lena. You are strong and brave enough to do this. You hear me YOU ARE STRONG. Take my hand. Squeeze my hand as hard as you can."

Yelena grabs ahold of Sara's hand.

"That's it. Take a deep breath."

Yelena takes a couple of deep breaths.

"As soon as the doctor tells you to push, I want you to push as hard as you can. Your baby will be here soon. I promise."

"Please let be a girl Sara! I need it to be a girl!" Sara kisses the top of Yelena's head before whispering into her ear. "No matter what they are I swear on my life that I'll protect them." Sara wipes away the sweat and tears off Yelena's face.

"Я вижу его голову!" The doctor yells

(I can see its head!)

"PUSH YELENA! PUSH!"

Yelena gives it all she's got. after a couple of minutes of Yelena screaming a new little scream came out.

The baby starts screaming for its mother.

The nurse cuts the cord and walks it over to a table to clean it off. Sara lets go of Yelena's hand. Walking over to the baby. "Что это такое?"(What is it.) She asked with a serious tone.

The nurse looks at a one-view window. Dreykov spoke through a one-on-one com. He gives the Widow nurse the approval.  "Девушка"

(A Girl)

"W-What is it? Sara? Someone please tell me!" Sara looks towards her and nods her head. Yelena understood that she had a little girl. She relaxed a bit a smile crept on her face. Her child will live.

But then reality hits. Her smile soon turned into a frown. If Sara doesn't escape with her daughter then there is no hope for her day. "Can I hold her? Please." The nurse ignores the new mother. She hands the crying baby over to Sara.

"Оставайтесь здесь и не двигайтесь, если это не связано с безопасностью ребенка." (Stay here and don't move unless it involves with the child safety.)

As soon as the nurse and doctor leave Sara speaks up. "She's beautiful Lena." She lifts the baby so Yelena can see her face. Tears welled up and slowly flowed down. Sara was right. She was beautiful. "Nadya" she quietly said but just enough for Sarah to hear.

Suddenly the alarm was blaring through the whole building. Someone was trying to escape. Both women knew this was their chance to escape. "Go."Sara somehow pushes through her commands and leaves the room but before she leaves she brings Nadya to Yelena.

Yelena Kisses her newborn daughter a kiss on the forehead and quietly says "Мама тебя очень любит. Прощай моя любовь. Увидимся скоро." (Mama loves you so much. Goodbye my love. I'll see you soon.)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/n -> I am not a medical professional and the information I used was from Google and the websites it recommended.

Also today is my birthday!! 🥳 20 years old baby!!! 🎂

[skeleton-in-a-hoodie]

Random Dead Doesn't Mean Gone au headcannons:

Leo has a leg brace and cane. Splinter teaches him fight with both twin katana and a cane. Both his swords and cane have tanto hidden in them.

Leo and Raph technically know how to swim, but when the meet Splinter it's been a long time since they last had the chance. Donnie and Mikey never learned how to. The first spring and summer after meeting Splinter, he takes them to a river that runs through the forest to teach them.

Splinter used to smoke when he was alive. He quit roughly a year before he died and still sometimes gets cravings, although he doesn't realise what the cravings are for until Casey's grandmother figures it out. Knows how to blow smoke rings and uses ghost powers to do it.

Mikey, Donnie and Splinter all have ADHD and autism.

Mikey is also dyslexic.

Donnie has OCD.

Leo and Raph are both autistic. Leo has problems with his throat as well as his bad leg.

Splinter and Raph both have depression.

Splinter also has memory problems due to [REDACTED]. He can be part way through a task and completely forget what he's supposed to be doing and needs a reminder to get back on track. When the Old House becomes the Lair, their kitchen has a big chart with days of the week, what chores need doing and all the extracurriculars the boys have. It helps everyone know what's doing on, but it's main purpose is to remind Splinter what he needs to do.

As time goes on, his memory problems will get worse.

Venus exists in this universe! Her birth name is Mei, but Venus is a nickname that stuck. She met at least two of the brothers when they lived in the same children's home. It's been a few years since she last saw them - Venus was adopted before them and lives in New York with her dad.

Her dad runs a shop of odds and ends. It's one of those places you can spend hours just exploring and still not find the other end of the building. There's a section that's just got knitting supplies and some very old books, so Mikey and Raph go in one day and run into Venus again.

Venus and her dad end up meeting Splinter. Her dad's reaction is to offer Splinter some tea. When everyone is confused that he's not at all freaked out, he just says Splinter is not the weirdest thing he's ever seen and then refuses to elaborate.

Her dad and Splinter are funny old men together. (Yes Splinter is technically frozen at 32 in this au, but he can be an old man in spirit.)

April has a ghost hunting show.

If you want to summon Splinter (on purpose) offerings of tea, peanut butter or cheese are acceptable. If you want to summon him and then get absolutely nothing done, godzilla merch is the way to go

Casey and April have summoned Splinter before by accident.

April, Mona and Irma are all on a roller derby team. Venus may join the team, I'm not sure. If not, she cheers them on.

Splinter's attitude to other ghosts being in his territory is essentially "I do not care, just don't be a prick about it."

Some spirits will leave him offers when travelling through his territory. Mostly peices of metal, wood, bits of food. One very confused spirit left him weilding equipment. When Splinter accepted it, he started getting random meltworking, woodworking and tools for pretty much any craft you can think of. It's like being friends with a bunch of confused but helpful crows.

If Splinter wants to go into the forest, he leaves offerings for the forest deer.

The deer will give him peices of metal and wood from its forest from time to time - he uses these to make his kids' weapons.

The Lair has: chickens, a cat, two dogs, and a turtle. They also use the fields around the house to grow potatoes and other fruits and vegtables. Some of it they keep, others they take to the farmer's market to make extra money

Casey's grandmother took one look at Splinter and adopted him. Splinter had no idea what was happening at the time. This is another reason Casey calls him Tio

[characternerdocs]

Tagged by: @icybreaths

Name: Eri Lorewright, you can refer to me as either! (or Eeri, like Eerie, Lol)

Star Sign: Cancer ♋

Height: 5' 7

Middle name: [REDACTED] cause I’m uncomfy revealing it as it’s really gendered, and I’d like to be a non-binary enigma.

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up?

This is Home - Cavetown

Lonely Dance- Set it Off

Everything at Once - Lenka

Bubblegum Bitch - Marinana & the Diamonds

Poison Within from Headless 

Kill the Beast by Aurelio Voltaire

Ever had a poem or song written about you: Not that I am aware

When was the last time you played air guitar: Prolly a week, two weeks ago. And most definitely to Pick up the Pace by The Play Plays

Who is your celebrity crush?: Less of a crush, more gender envy for Scott Shpeley. He is the singer in the Play Plays and plays Edgar Allan in Catalyst’s musical Nevermore

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: Velcro, the hate the ripping sound. It makes my spin itchy. I love the sound of keys hitting against one another

Do you believe in ghosts?: Yes, though I don’t feel like I have any legit experiences. Others that I know have some stories. Other than that though I think building I work in is haunted. I repeatedly have the feeling someone was walked into the room while my back’s to the door, but when I look, no one is there.

How about aliens: Yeah, I figure if we can exist on our planet, why can’t other life exist on another planet?

Do you drive?: Yes, and once I was even licensed to drive a forklift!

If so have you ever crashed: Thankfully not.

What was the last book you read?: The Drowning Girls, it’s actually a play though by Beth Graham and Daniela Vlaskalic

Do you like the smell of gasoline: Eeh... sorta?

What was the last movie you saw?: 7 Women and a Murder

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: I don’t know. Mostly it’s all minor stupid things. Like once I crushed a cone incense with my thumb only to find it had just burned out and severely burn my finger. I was trying to declog the dermal we use at work to 3-hole punch paper when it slipped and I punched a perfect circle into my index and thumb.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: Yes, It’s the Nevermore musical. I Love EVERYTHING ABOUT IT! I cannot rationally explain it. but the costumes and props being made primary out of masking tape, sticks, and landscaping fabric give Catalyst’s production such a unique and darkly quirky feel. It’s a part fact, part fiction telling of Edgar Allan Poe’s life birth to death, using lines and themes from his own stories and poems as the lyrics and lines. Which as a life time Poe fan myself is a fun little easter egg hunt to identify what is being referenced. The music is SO powerful, it just rattles round in my head all the time now, especially Dream within a Dream.  The setup and narrative style of the show had once of the best pay off I could have imagined; no spoilers but it was great. The cast is FANTASTIC! I love Scott Shpeley and I want to be his version of Poe, because honestly Nevermore’s Poe is just Goth boy Heath and I love that. But also I love Beth Graham, who yes wrote the play the Drowning Girls, but she is super funny and a great character actor. She plays three roles in Nevermore, including Fanny Allan, who I love, best mom. But Beth Graham does a great job of giving all three of her characters distinct voices. Love love love. The amount of love and creativity that has gone into this show is incredible. And I know that my passion and love for this show is crossing the line into unhinged, but E. A. Poe said it best, “I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.”    

[saevus-brutalis]

oc interview questions —

██-██ 2077 lead interviewer: [REDACTED] >> main video file corrupted [̲̅███_̲̅_̲̅] 30% partial reconstruction complete. wasn't tagged by anyone but it looked fun so 😌

Name?

V. [The interviewer leans forward, gesticulating for him to continue.] Just V.

Are you single? 

[He rises an eyebrow, clearly not amused. It seems like he was expecting that question.] Yes, but don’t get your hopes up. I’m not interested.

Are you happy? 

Point me to someone that is. But no, can't say that I am.

Are you angry?

[Shrugs] It's a well-known feeling to me. Used to experience it more commonly in the past. There are a lot of things to be angry about. The state of this shithole, ever-rising rent prices, crappy food, even crappier people…

Interviewer: And are you angry right now?

Trust me, you don't want to find out.

Are your parents still married?

[Silence, dark eyes dart to the side, jaw appears to be clenched.] No. Hard to be married if you’re dead. [He shrugs, acting nonchalant.] She never took his last time, didn’t want to be tied down like a dog on a leash. Good for her, honestly. Think she wanted to file for a divorce, too. She was just too late.

Interviewer: Let's start with some basics.

Birthplace?  

Here.

Interviewer: Here?

[Sighs] Night City, born and bred. Grew up here, probably will die here. Corpo Plaza was my playground, not an idea place to rise a kid, but where, here, is really? Haywood was my true training ground. I’ve lived all over - different neighborhoods, states, countries, different military camps. Yet I always find myself back here, back in NC.

Hair color?

Black. All natural. Started graying like 8 years ago maybe, used to try and dye them to hide it, but I gave up after a year or two. Couldn’t be fucking bothered, really. Besides, I’ve heard people were into silver foxes these days.

Eye color?

Used to be green. Had my mother’s eyes. Beautiful shade, people always complimented her. Me too if I’m being honest, always ignored them though. Sometimes I regret ever getting optics. But I had to, it was in the job description. Now I can’t imagine having ‘ganic ones. And I don’t think I could bare her looking back at me every time I stare in the mirror to shave.

Birth day?

November 12th, you can tell I’m a scorpio.

Interviewer: And what year were you born?

2019. Just before the Fourth Corp Wars. Weird times, but I can’t really remember shit aside from the red sky. Put my childhood way behind me. Stopped celebrating my birthday a long time ago too. No one to celebrate with either, aside a handful of friends, but it’s only just beer at my place anyway.

Mood?

Indifferent. Tired, mostly. Nothing a good hookup can’t fix.

Gender?

Born male, identify as a man. It’s not something I really questioned ever. Always have been comfortable with my body and masculinity. Never lost touch with my feminine side though, [He gestures at his painted nails, silver jewelry, piercings, and smudged eye makeup] guess I got it from my ma.

Summer or winter?

Winter, full stop. Ever seen snow? Best shit ever. Too bad it never snows here. Sometimes I wish I stayed on that mountain and never came back. I’d rather freeze there than sweat my balls off in the summer in Cali. Funny, considering I still live here and don’t plan on moving any time soon.

Morning or afternoon?

Early mornings beat everything. Before the sun even rises. It’s calm, quiet, everyone’s still asleep. It’s when I feel the most rested, even when I haven’t slept the whole night. Yoga sesh on the balcony during the sunrise gotta be the best way to start your day.

Interviewer: Not, let's get a little bit more personal. Some listeners are dying to know these questions.

Are you in love?

Yeah. After forty years still am. It’s mostly repressed by now. ‘m trying not to think about that.

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Yeah. Fell victim to it four decades ago. It sucks, hurts when shit doesn’t go your way and I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, but fuck if it isn’t the best fucking feeling ever in the beginning stage.

Who ended your last relationship? 

We both did. ‘‘twas a mutual decision. We split on good terms. Still got his number on speed dial. We don’t talk much these days, too busy, proud, or butthurt over the whole situation. But we’re still friends, yeah.

Are you afraid of commitments?

Again, who isn’t? Hard to trust people these days, in my line of work especially. Too many secrets, too many money-hungry people willing to take advantage and sell you out for a quick buck. Takes too much time too, committing to someone I mean. If we haven’t known each other for at least a full year I don’t trust you enough to have my number. With some exceptions, of course.

Have you hugged someone within the last week?

Yeah, my friend and ripper. We served two tours together, guy’s been having a rough time lately. Came over with a couple of beers, then couple of beers turned into more beers, and you know what intoxication does to people. Don’t regret it, seemed like both of us needed it.

Have you ever had a secret admirer?

People aren’t too secretive about being a fan - or rather an admirer as you called them - of me online, that’s for sure. Can you believe they’ve made a forum dedicated to me? Yeah, me neither. I don’t know why these kids choose to spend their free time documenting my life, achievements, writing down every piece of clothing I wore and what’s my coffee order, but as long as it’s something as innocent as that I don’t really mind. I don’t have it as bad as some BD stars, I hope at least. Some of the candid pictures they take of me look really good I can give them that. And don’t even get me started about video edits I’ve seen resurface here and there.

Once I had someone send me a package to my private home address, no idea how they found it, glad it was the only instance and it never happened again. If anything I value my privacy and I rather not have an obsessive stalker sending me love letters. Online forums? Be my guest, but don’t go digging too deep, I know my fair share of netrunners.

Have you ever broken your own heart?

Yeah. It was a choice. A stupid one. I could’ve avoided it, but I was young and dumb, a scared nineteen year old. But what’s past is past. Hard to tell if I ever recover but you gotta move forward. I wouldn’t have gotten this far had I been stuck dwelling on the past. There’s not a day I don’t regret doing what I did, the broken heart is very much deserved.

Interviewer: Okay, that was intense. Let's cool off with some light 'this or that' questions.

Love or lust?  

Love, easy. I’m too old to rely on lust, learned that the hard way. In short: been there, done that. All of my hookups were fueled by lust, there was no love there. You can only enjoy lustful relationships so long before it starts wearing you down. It fades quickly, doesn’t fulfill you, makes you feel empty.

Lemonade or iced tea?

Iced tea. It’s the closest thing to iced coffee. And you can always add lemon to your tea. So many types of tea too. Lemonade is too plain and most of the synth stuff tastes like ass anyway.

Cats or dogs?

Cats. Don’t get me wrong I love my dog, love going on a run with him, but I’ve always been a cat person, would choose to reincarnate as one, a black panther perhaps? They seem to like me too, while some dogs snarl and bark. People say I give off tiger vibes, maybe that’s what I was in my past life.

A few best friends or many regular friends? 

A few best friends. You can never be too careful picking who you choose to hang out with, trust enough to lower your guard. Too many fake people, all too eager to stab you in the back when you’re least expecting it. Lived long enough to know, when it comes to people - the less is better.

Wild night out or romantic night in?

Mix of both you can say. My job gives me enough wildness as is. In NC everything happens fast, so a chill night in is a nice change of pace. It’s more private too. But I won’t say no to blowing shit up in the air or wild chases with the cops - that’s what a good night out is, right?

Day or night?

Night. There’s a reason I’ve stayed in NC as long as I did - it’s the city lights. There ain’t nothing more beautiful than Nigh City, well… at night. The air is cooler, you can’t see the grime and smog, only the neon lights. It’s when the freaks come out, it’s when you can get your hands on the best food, best drugs, best guns. Nighttime here has its charm and it definitely charmed me.

Interview: Now for the classics. Have you ever...

Been caught sneaking out?

When I still lived with my dad, sure, a couple of times. It was my stepmom who would always catch me, my dad more rarely, he was out of the house most of the time, always working late shifts. Chalice she… Was always home, monitoring me ever since she moved in. It was hard in the beginning but once I had figured out her schedule it was much easier to sneak out, especially at night.

When I was in boarding school maybe once or twice, but never again after that. It’s where I mastered the art of not getting caught. And as you can see - it worked, I’m still here.

Fallen down/up the stairs?

My room was downstairs, never had any reason to go up to my parents' bedroom, especially after my mom passed. Definitely did when I was a kid, now not really. I trip sometimes over my cat when walking down the stairs but never fall down. The artificially boosted reflexes are a lifesaver.

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt?

Someone, rather than something. Nowadays if I want something I just get it and if I can’t, I get over it. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be mine. But I did, I did want someone bad, still do. And yes, it still hurts.

Wanted to disappear?

More times than I can recall. It’s a constant thought, something I’m going over with my counsellor every now and again. I did disappear for a few years back in 2046 - went totally off the radar. It wasn’t planned or anything. Pretty sure I was pronounced legally dead by the time I came back in 2051. Sometimes I do wish to leave, have any trace of me wiped, I feel like I’ve done enough damage here.

Interviewer: Now, for those who still have their hopes up, despite you saying you’re not looking for a relationship. Tell me…

Smile or eyes?

Smile. The eyes can be changed, switched and swapped. Too many Kiroshi models available on the market to count.

Shorter or taller? 

Pretty much everyone is shorter than me. I prefer people close to my size. As long as I don’t have to physically bend to be on the head level with someone, its alright. However I do prefer tall people, someone I can look in the eyes.

Intelligence or attraction?

It’s all about vibes, man. I can be into a dumb hot himbo as much as into a mildly attractive genius, babbling about quantum physics like it’s his entire personality. If the conversation’s flowing and you’ve piqued my interest I don’t care for neither, as long as the sex is good.

Hook-up or relationship?

Both, neither. Hookups get the job done. It’s nice while it lasts. Clouds work for me too, it’s just a transaction, no feelings, zero expectations. Relationships on the other hand - I got burned too many times. Been in two serious ones and I don’t think I have the strength for another one. Not for a while at least.

Interviewer: You don't talk much about your family, do you? Mind if I ask you a few questions about them?

Do you and your family get along?

No. I’ve gone no contact since I got my first job and moved out at 21. It’s not like they bothered to reach out either. Dad died in ‘69. Wasn’t welcomed to his funeral but I went anyway, wanted to see the dead bastard one last time. He’s still out there somewhere, copied his psyche onto a shard; some corps have him stashed away behind sealed doors.

Was never close with my dad’s side of the family, definitely wasn’t close with his latest spouse. Never knew my grandparents or my mom’s cousins, all lived in Geneva, not once have they visited the States. My mom’s older brother on the other hand - the black sheep of the family - met him a few times, we don’t keep in contact however. He shut down after her death, scurrying off to the Badlands, cooking skiff is his trailer. He’s alright, one last person I can call family, really. Besides my stepsister. She’s the only person I truly get along with, only family member I care for. Never knew I had a sister until she turned 7. We keep in contact daily.

Would you say you have a “messed up life”?

Yes. Definitely. Climbing to the top of the food chain takes a lot of sacrifices. Still question if it all was worth it.

Have you ever run away from home?

Yeah. Went through my rebel teenage era, running away for a few day and crashing at my friend’s house or my then-boyfriend’s camp. I would do and go anywhere to just be out of the house. I was a total edge-lord back then.

Have you ever gotten kicked out?

Technically yes, by my dad when he sent me away to the boarding school. But no, not really.

Interviewer: What about your friends? Even a dangerous veteran solo like yourself must have someone to drink beers with.

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

A part of me hates a some part of them. I think it’s only normal. But no, why would I be friends with someone I hate.

Do you consider all of your friends good friends? 

Sure, most of them yeah. We’re all totally different people with different goals and ambitions, but they stuck long enough to be considered good friends.

Who is your best friend? 

Was. Mickey. Miss the bastard every day, I carry his dog tag with me at all times. Rache is next line even if we don’t talk much. I guess the military can really bond two people together.

Who knows everything about you?

No one. I guess I tell Felix a lot of stuff, but there are a lot of gaps I keep to myself. Rogue claims to know everything about me, found my real birth certificate after all, but even she can’t know the whole story. No one, but the people involved, know what happened between 2046 and 2051. And I plan on keeping it that way.

[vicious-daughter-of-zeus]

fuck you

I’m Elektra, touch me and you die. literally.

Name: Elektra Agetor, but if you dare mention my last name I will throttle you

(Ooc: it’s the last name Zeus would give to his children. Thank you to my Greek mythology nerd fren for helping me figure that out)

Age: 17

Birthday: December 17

When did you arrive at camp: when I was 15

Godly parent: unfortunately Zeus

Mortal parent: [REDACTED]. she died giving birth to me

@penelope-is-waiting is now my adoptive mother, and I love her very much. So by extension, @odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost is my adoptive dad. Fuck with them and I’ll show you what my necklace is really all about.

also my illegal adopter is Diane from @damiedantediane

Powers: for me to know and for you to find out

Weapon(s): my touch, 13 inch dagger, celestial bronze bullet gun (I don’t use it very often, it’s not that great)

Sexuality: i’ll fuck you if im attracted to you

Pronouns: she/her they/them mostly, im trying out xe/xem

Height: im actually like 5’10” but im almost always wearing something that has a bit of a heel on it so like 6’0” ish. yeah im a tall girl (FUCK YOU JACK I CAN STILL GROW MORE)

Why can’t we touch you: my stupid ass bitch of a father gave me an amulet when I was four years old. the amulet harness a very large voltage of electricity, so if anyone touches me when I’m wearing it they’ll die or be very seriously injured. i can only take it off during thunderstorms, and when a thunderstorm is over i have put it back on or ill get electric shocks sent to my brain, causing me many problems.

(ooc more info)

Single or taken: taken by my lovely incredible gorgeous beautiful amazing pretty awesome stunning girlfriend Amelia @the-definition-of-sunshine (idk why she sticks around but for some incomprehensible reason she likes me romantically)

Other people I am willing to murder you over:

(don’t get it twisted though, I don’t make friends. I don’t get attached to anyone.)

Sk @daonedaonlyskh, Finley @love-lightning-forethought (my sister), Artemis @lady-artemis (godly sister), Thalia @badassthalia (another sister), Eef @sleepy-as-a-song

and Jack (short)(edit: SINCE WHEN DID HE GROW-) @demigod-jack-hearth

Giving love language: physical touch giving gifts

Receiving love language: physical touch words of affirmation

Hobbies: i write poems and take pictures sometimes, but if you find me somewhere that isn’t scrolling my phone in cabin 1 I’m probably training in the arena.

Other info: i am very goth. not emo, not punk, goth. also yes i am a white girl with locs, if you’ve got a problem with that than gtfo, motherfucker it’s literally just hair. a black lady did them for me

ooc

hiya! It’s @daonedaonlyskh and I run this blog!

there will be lots of cursing, probably mentions of cigarettes/smoking, mentions foster care, mentions of orphanages, mentions of homelessness, really awful parents (maybe slight emotional abuse? I’m not really sure), blood, mentions of death, and possible gore on this blog. If any of those don’t sit well with you, but would still like to interact with a starter with these contents, or a roleplay seemingly is headed in the direction of one of these, PLEASE LET ME KNOW, I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANYONE UNCOMFORTABLE

also if elektra says anything about bullying her father PLEASE don’t harass the mod of @/by-the-decree-of-my-bolt, the mod is such a lovely person and I would hate for that to happen to them

I’m a minor so nothing inappropriate, although you are welcome to (try) to flirt with Elektra if you want!

more info and my dni can be found in my main blog (the dni is under the “rules” section)

I switch over to quotation marks “”when the interaction between characters is ‘not on tumblr’ (example: let me know when you’re here [vs] “oh you’re here!”)

tags

bitch i’m busy - ic

mod speaks - ooc

Elektra lore - ooc lore drops

this is the picrew I used for the pfp

banner image was made by me

dividers are from @/cyberangel-graphics here on tumblr

[ofharmonyhalls]

have you seen mahir atalar? yes, the twenty two year old senior that’s usually wandering around campus? they’re currently focused on business economics, so we’re sure they’ve been super busy with studying. according to rumors, they were michael’s teammate & hook up and he knew [ redacted ]. does it make sense considering they’re known for being resourceful as well as conniving? either way, the phantom is threatening to bring scary things to light, but let’s hope whatever they’re hiding stays in the dark.

stats

full name: mahir atalar

nicknames: hates nicknames and doesn't think he needs one

gender: cis man (he/him pronouns)

sexuality:gay

date of birth:jan 3rd 2001

place of birth: antalya, turkey

zodiac:capricon

personality markers:entj, type three, true neutral evil and chloeric

positive trait:resolute, methodical, charismatic and assured

negative trait: materialistic, ruthless, distant and selfish

character parallels: shiv roy (succession), victoria chase (life is strange) & eric van der woodsen (gossip girl)

extracurriculars: basketball, debate & model un

links: pinterest

bio

for the first ten years of his life mahir was raised in antalya, turkey. he looks at this time with rose tinted glasses. he focuses on the sun and going to antalyaspor games with his nanny instead of how his parents ate dinner seperately and rarely give him compliments. they were always focused on improvements that could be made, both in their lives as a whole and in mahir as a person

when he was eleven his parents moved to manhattan. they wanted to turn their jewellery business into a chain of stores. mahir didn't take the move well. for months he kept repacking his clothes and books whenever the new nanny (who he refused to speak to and decided was worse than his old nanny) unpacked them

after months of trying to convince his parents to move back home he eventually admitted defeat. in his period of protesting he considered his younger sister to be his only ally. they occasionally fought but had us against the world type dynamic

even though he was primarily focused on academics he was a sporty kid and continues to be a sporty adult. he was naturally athletic and sports appealed to his competitive and strategeic nature

soccer is his first love but he shifted focus from soccer to basketball in junior high because basketball was considered way cooler and there's nothing more damaging to an insecure 14 year old boy's ego than playing a sport that's considered for girls and f slurs

has too much drive to peak in high school but he did enjoy high school more than most people. he was made for a superficial enviroment. plus, he knew that the secret for popularity was to tell people what they want to hear without coming across as too desperate

his relationship with his sister got more complicated as they grew older. their parents had expectations and strict rules for both of them but were slightly more leniant on mahir's younger sister because she was the spare (or at least she was in their dad's eyes). mahir was slightly frustrated at the freedom she had but was still willing to cover for her when she sneaked out or caused trouble.

almost picked an ivy league school but decided to go to a college that was prestigious but further away from his parents and the cold weather.

i want to keep his relationship with michael vague for now and then plot out timelime and specifics with people later. my vague idea is that they were teammates who ran in the same social circles and hooked up occasionally (might involve cheating might not who knows...not me). mahir was more attached and in awe of michael than michael was with him.

mahir knows that "occasional fwb" sounds like the basis for a murder motivation. he's seen murder mysteries he knows that sometimes the killer is a bitter jilted lover who wanted more. that's why he downplayed how well he knows michael to the police

personality & hcs

just a little bastard man tbh

simultaneously has a huge ego and massive amounts of imposter syndrome

fears that he's just like his dad

the final boss of annoying car guys. he likes cars for all the superficial reasons but also because he's fascinated by engineering. would probabaly major in engineering if he didn't think he had to run the family business

he has a meticulous gym routine

his main vices are cigarettes and coffees that shouldn't be allowed to be called coffees because of the amount of syrups in them. started smoking because it thought it would impress a guy he had a crush on in junior year of high school

mahir knows that "occasional fwb" sounds like the basis for a motivation for muder. he's seen murder mysteries, he knows that sometimes the killer is a bitter jilted lover who wanted more. that's why he downplayed how well he knows michael to the police

connection ideas

his sister (will send a wc to the main tomorrow

friends

unlikely friends

fake friends

enemies

enemies with sexual tension

exes

flings

[shhlima]

Congratulations EVA, you have been accepted into the University of Lima as JANE HAYWARD !! To keep your spot at UoL, make sure that you send us your account within 24 HOURS and complete the CHECKLIST. But beware, Shady Lima is just waiting to expose your secret!

OOC INFO

NAME/ALIAS: eva PRONOUNS: she/her AGE: 33 TIMEZONE: cst ACTIVITY LEVEL: 8/10 PREVIOUS RP BLOG: [redacted] TRIGGER(S): none ANYTHING ELSE?: nope!

INTRODUCTION

Hey, Lima, I’m JANE HAYWARD but everyone calls me JANE, I identify as a CIS WOMAN and use SHE/HER pronouns. I was born on JULY 16TH making me TWENTY years old and a CANCER. Most people call me the ACTIVIST, maybe that’s because I am PASSIONATE but also JUDGMENTAL. If I had to describe my vibe, I would say it revolves around SPIRITED DEBATES, DESIGNER PANTSUITS, & 80S HORROR FILMS. Of course there is one thing I hope no one ever finds out, and that's MY PARENTS ARE PAYING PUCK OFF TO CONCEAL THE FACT THAT I’M HIS BABY MAMA. Anyway, on a more fun note, people always say I look like ZARIA SIMONE .

FAMILY INFORMATION

HOMETOWN: westerville, ohio FAMILY: hayward TYPE OF SIBLING: full BIRTH ORDER: middle PARENTS STATUS: yes POSSIBLE SIBLINGS: full or adopted

SCHOOL DATA

YEAR IN SCHOOL: sophomore MAJOR/MINOR: political science EXTRACURRICULARS: glee, GSA LIVING QUARTERS: 2 br apartment with bree OCCUPATION: what is a job when your family is wealthy?

HEADCANONS

Growing up, the Haywards expected perfection from their children, and Jane was always one to comply with whatever was asked of her. After all, they were wealthy and given all sorts of advantages as children, such as music and dance lessons, creative summer camps, vacations that were both luxurious and educational. It only felt right to soak up the vast opportunities being presented to them, so by high school, Jane had never gotten any grade lowered than an A, could play multiple instruments, had been in show choir for years, had a dance background, and had developed a knack for fighting for what was right.

Call her a feminist, a social justice warrior, an activist — it's all true. After her parents had to sue the all boys' academy that her father and uncle attended for high school just to get her enrolled, Jane grew passionate about fighting for women's rights, as well as the rights for any and every one that was ever discriminated against or unjustly mistreated by the law. She's constantly attending protests, she started a Ride Home program as a teen that allows sober teenage girls to drive drunk girls home from parties to keep them safe, and she's regularly forcing her parents' friends to donate to important organizations and to even help the wrongly accused in Ohio hire good lawyers instead of public defenders. For her parents, this is practice for the political journey they plan to see her go through on her road to becoming the first female president, which is their goal for her whether Jane truly wants it or not.

One summer, Jane met one Noah Puckerman at a party, and him taking her virginity turned into her getting pregnant. The Haywards were not about to allow their gifted daughter be a teen mom, so they told everyone that she'd signed up for a study abroad program, while she was really staying with relatives on Martha's Vineyard and being homeschooled to conceal her pregnancy. Her family wanted her to either abort the baby or give it up for adoption, but Jane asked Puck what he wanted and Puck chose to keep their baby, a daughter they named Maya.

Thus the other part of the secret was born: in exchange for keeping Maya and raising her without their side of the family being involved, the Haywards pay Puck to keep the identity of Maya's mother a secret. Jane doesn't like it per se, but she also knows better than to go against her parents, so she's kept her word to stay out of her daughter's life and let Puck raise her alone. To do that, she didn't come home after she had Maya or after she got her diploma, enrolling in the University of Massachusetts at Amherst to keep distance between her family.

Unluckily for Jane, she spent her first year of college partying and drinking to get rid of her mom guilt, and for the first time in her life, she'd even failed a few classes. Her parents were pissed, as one would expect, so they made her take a year off afterwards to get her shit together. Now, she's getting back to her old self, and her parents thought it was time she come back to Lima so they could keep her on track.