vilsoo · 2 years ago
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god bless scott because the casting was FUCKING GENIUS. A MASSIVE W.
fr gonna leave the cinema with a wet spot on my seat bc whewww godddddd
art here
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doomzday-zone · 5 months ago
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grrrrrrrrr grrrrrr thinking about how depending on species its easy for mobians to lie about theyre age n such esp to humans. n how ppl used that to their advantage abt infinite n how eventually he also uses this to his advantage after he runs away to get jobs n shit,,,,
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astrxealis · 2 years ago
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i wna play stardew valley with all my friends !!!
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ginkgo-phyta · 8 months ago
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Hotch would definitely give you the princess treatment, and you know what? Jack would too, after seeing his father he knows how to treat a girl right. And the team would definitely tease Hotch, because his son is going to steal his partner from him :)
omg no LITERALLYYY tho like just like omfg alright i got carried away with this and its not even really what you're talking about but listen to me okay LISTENNNNN
tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too
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YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH AARON HOTCHNER AND ITS INFLUENCE ON HIS SON JACK gn!reader, FLUFF, no warnings(?) another informal blurb typa format :P
you and hotch decide together you'd like to date for a while first, take things slower and fully solidify and strengthen your relationship, before you become a part of jack's life. you didn't want jack to get attached to you or write you off too quickly in case life took you in different directions. you didn't know it at the time, but hotch introduced you to jack when he was sure he was going to marry you some day- and soon. he had been so incredibly head over heels in love with you and once you and jack got close, the little guy really got to witness how highly his father regarded you- and just how he showed you it every day. even in the little things. from the way hotch pulled out your chair, held all doors open for you, always kept your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up in the fridge and pantry, never let you open your own car door, the way he made spaces for you in his bathroom and closet without even being asked, and how he always stuck to your weekly dinner date- whether in person or over the phone. to the way his father would look at you, listen intently to whatever you were talking or ranting about, how he'd cup your hands and press quick kisses to them or move any bothersome strands of hair from your face when you'd eat, and how enthusiastic he always was when you and jack would spend time together.
jack was a bit hesitant with you at first, he was a bit older at that point and the quickness with which beth had left his life had admittedly stung him, leaving an ever-present welt behind. but he warmed up to you, appreciative of the way you welcomed him with open arms, never pressured him to spend time with or even like you (letting him accept you at his own pace) and how you clearly were not trying to take the place of his late mother- even many, many years into your relationship with his father. what he loved the most was how you always encouraged hotch to recount stories of haley, put pictures of her in jack's room or wherever else he wanted them, and how you would remind him: "your mother would be so proud of you jack." you would watch old home videos of their old family and jack never failed to notice how you wouldn't ever feel negatively about it. that was really what won him over. he also loved how open you were with both him and his dad- every day you'd say "i love you!" both casually and purposefully. it instilled in the young boy the importance of expressing appreciation, love, and care for others.
before you, hotch was always a just bit emotionally closed off. even when it came to jack he liked to keep himself a bit more reserved. he tried to stay a strong and unwavering inspiration, only wanting to show his son his best face. but once you came into their lives you inspired hotch to open up more than he had the last few years after haley's passing, inspired him to embrace even the "uglier" emotions he felt in life: grief, anger, sadness, and tiredness. it ended up passing onto jack in small ways, allowing him to feel even closer to dad. you became a huge structural post in jack's life. your love for one other inspired him, as he grew up he dreamed of one day having a relationship like yours. he looked forward to being able to treat his significant other the way his father cares for you.
you loved jack as if he was your own, though you never wanted to say that to him for fear of overstepping your role. aaron would always assure you, especially as jack grew older, that his boy felt it. you watched him go from a playful child, to a moody teenager, to a budding adult eager to make his mark on the world. and you were there supporting him the whole way.
you'll spend a lifetime with the both of them and although there will be many funny, loving, or frustrating moments you'll hold in a special place in your mind, there's one memory from when he was still a youngin that you love the most. it was a surprise dinner party at your fancy restaurant, aaron had booked the whole place just for you and the guests to celebrate your engagement and he had enlisted jack's help to plan the whole thing. jack, the bau team, and your friends and family were all there to shower you in love. the most memorable part of the night was the moment everyone sat down for dinner, all around a giant table (possibly multiple tables pushed together). as everyone moved to take their place jack ran so eagerly in front of you to pull your chair out before his father got the chance. you were shocked for a second before bursting out in a melodious laugh- it was so unexpected but you were incredibly moved. "oh, jack, thank you!" your loving, excited, and genuinely appreciative tone made jack's already huge grin grow even wider and more endearing. everyone else had noticed this too and laughed in joy along with you. "oh my god!" "that was so freakin cute" "he did not just do that!" rang out around you. of course aaron noticed, standing in silence for a second, a similar smile mirrored on his face, before he shook his head with a chuckle. as you took you seat, jack made sure to push your chair in just before you sat down fully, diligently executing what he'd studied his father do hundreds of times before. you turned to thank him, but before you could even open your mouth jack moved to take your cloth napkin from the table, shake it open, and carefully place it in your lap. awwws flooded in from all sides of the table
"oh you are just so adorable jack, thank you so much." you said as you pinched his still slightly chubby cheek "you are just the kindest, sir." you playful tone cause jacks entire face to blush and he shyly walked over to take a seat next to you.
"what? you take my job, and now you don't even want to sit next to me?" hotch spoke up from you other side. jack knew his father was joking, but he still bashfully giggled, sinking a bit more into his seat
"you better be careful, hotch," derek spoke up from across the table, motioning to his former boss with a breadstick, "looks like you got some competition there."
everyone broke out into more laughter, especially aaron. in the midst of the hysterics, the once-stoic man's hand crept into your lap to hold your own, thumbing over the back of your hand and the beautiful engagement ring wrapped around your finger. you shared a glance while you both laughed before you looked over to jack. wordlessly, your hand suddenly hopped up to ruffle up the little boy's hair, causing him to scrunch up his nose and giggle even more.
but you didn't have to say anything, your eyes held the truth. love. jack continued to look up at you, feelings of warmth, joy, and safety draped over him like a fuzzy throw, covering him from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes. he knew that with you in his life now, besides him and his father, everything would be okay.
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A/N: SCREAMING how was this anon? sorry i didn't delve into the team teasing hotch more bc these thoughts were swimming in my head and i NEEDED to get them down perhaps i could do another post of just teasing quotes if that's something you'd like! i got a few ideas swimmin already teehee i hope you enjoyed my love!!
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chocosvt · 3 months ago
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HER | part five.
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✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.
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pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 23.8k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.
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(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.
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✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!
the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s! 
all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates
any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that! 
bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!
the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.
posting a bit earlier tn since i've got work tmo morning! i can't believe there is only one part left after this one!! :o
last chapter was angst up to the eyeballs so hopefully this one mends some of that heartache <3 still, much has yet to happen! this chapter contains one of my fave scenes teehee.
⇢ part one | part two | part three | part four | part six ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)
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—AUGUST 3RD.
The last time Wonwoo had been at your apartment to help you write, it was around the evening, into supper. He remembered the scent from the three-wick candles lit up in the kitchen—bonfire and vanilla—which you insisted was a necessity because it was the perfect way to relax your tense mind. Deciding not to cook, you had ordered Chinese takeout instead, and the entirety of the evening was spent sitting criss-cross on the comfortable rug splayed across the living room floor, indulging in warm food, writing, and letting the TV flick through a random season of your favourite drama show.
It was perfect.
Even now, as he sat on the bench across the street from your apartment complex, Wonwoo could still recall all the infinitesimal details—the fried crunch to every vegetable-filled spring roll, how the candles softly crackled when you blew them out at the end of the night, your small and very sleepy voice bidding him goodbye as you walked Wonwoo downstairs into the lobby—each memory sprung alive with such vividness. Wonwoo wished he could be poised outside your apartment knowing everything was the same; undamaged and intact. But that was an outcome too blissful for reality to maintain.
You had a specific nightly routine, particularly on Thursdays, after work: showering, followed by having a quickly thrown together dinner, applying a face mask, and then a movie before bed. He found himself memorizing a lot of your patterns over the months.
Wonwoo hadn’t texted you—he was doing this completely unprompted, without an inkling of his arrival. Maybe that was a terrible idea which should be discarded for something gentler and less likely to explode in his face, but that would only lead to more ruminating and more ruminating meant less doing.
The thing was, it was nearing eight o’clock. Wonwoo had been sitting on the bench for almost a half hour while the sun gradually sank, watching the occasional green leaf flutter down from the chestnut oaks adorning and shading the parkway behind him. The longer he waited, the further the shadows of the trees stretched, until he was completely engulfed and framed alone underneath their dark, cool silhouettes. Light still spilled across the street, igniting the space where everyone else was strolling, each person steadfast in their pace to be somewhere that wasn’t a sunset orange city street.
Breathing out slowly, Wonwoo glanced down at his hands.
It was like the first time he met you.
Just suck it up. Go do it.
He walked between the trimmed hedges that led to the complex door. The lobby area was exactly as he remembered it, though Wonwoo had come to learn those little complimentary desserts and cucumber waters set out the first day he visited you were no longer a thing, which you had vehemently complained to him about during a brief promenade through the park—another one of your palate cleansing ideas.
“Oh! Those pastries, by the way—they stopped doing them! I heard about it from my neighbour when I went down to get the mail. I was pissed, pissed, pissed! Apparently, there’s a lady who made them specifically for our complex because her grandson lived there. Well, he’s moved out now, so we all got fucked! If I don’t get my cute little lemon square with the raspberry on top and the powdered confectionary sugar all placed in a decorative doily, I will legit kill myself. Something has to be done… hey—can you bake, at all?”
Hence your immeasurable disappointment when Wonwoo revealed to you that he wasn’t notably talented at baking. Still, the incident provoked him to spend at least an hour a night researching different recipes for lemon squares that he could manage to pull off if given enough time and a handful of supplemental trial and error.
Wonwoo pushed the button to the elevator.
The heartbeat heavied in his chest while waiting for the doors to pull apart, the anticipation and nervousness coming down hard like thick snow flurries. A commercial ding at last echoed throughout the vacant lobby. Wonwoo immediately stepped into the small, confined space, feeling his breaths begin to drag, becoming almost audible in his desire for more oxygen.
Without a doubt, this was probably the hardest thing Wonwoo had ever done in his life. Even moving away from the comfortability and closeness of his family in Changwon—no matter their disagreements or quarrels—couldn’t compare to the emotion so palpably tugging within him akin to an ocean tide under a full moon.
He felt every twinge, but he was still doing well to maintain his composure, though Wonwoo couldn’t help himself from fearing that the control might leave him in the cold wind of seeing you again.
To look into your eyes could feel quite dissecting and Wonwoo didn’t know if he was yet strong enough to stomach the scrutinization despite how warranted it was. The best he could do was to expect nothing—this wasn’t about gaining closure, or basking in the liberation from righting a wrong—it was about the effort of accepting a profoundly hurtful problem he caused. You were hit front and centre by the shrapnel and you deserved to hear acknowledgement.
At the moment of reaching your floor, he didn't knock straight away.
Wonwoo stood outside the unit for a moment, removing his glasses and pulling at the sleeve to his large black hoodie, massaging away a smudge from the lens. After fitting the frames back to his face, he knocked. Each breath was fluttery. He tried so damn hard to soothe himself because life was unfortunately not a loop of constant aid and permanent reassurance and sometimes there was no other option but to be discomforted. At least he had his own company.
There was no movement from behind the door.
Swallowing very dryly, Wonwoo knocked again.
Nerves twisted in his stomach and turned his complexion pallid, though it was just on the edge of manageable and Wonwoo would have otherwise been quite proud if not for the lock suddenly clicking and the gentle, slow twisting of the doorknob. His fist clenched, the blunt nail on his index finger picking at his scarred cuticle.
Even when he saw you—Her—for the first time in over a month, accompanying the liminal doorway, staring back at him with an expression that he could use an entire pencil detailing, Wonwoo was able to sustain his control. Still, his heart was fucking racing.
Your eyes were wide, glassy, though somewhat veiled by the dip in your brows that began to gradually furl deeper in their recognition of his presence. He felt his stomach drop faster than lightspeed when a frown twitched into your lips, distorting the surprise in your face to anger, while the fingers at your leg curled into a rigid fist. There was a dewiness to your bare cheeks and a sweetened aroma from your skin that suggested you had gotten out from the shower not too long ago.
Wonwoo relaxed his hands.
“Hey.”
Expectantly, you said nothing.
There was a rolling, emotional sea unabashed to your face, continuously morphing between every shade of wrath within the sticky silence. Wonwoo worried you might slam the door shut.
He needed to say something fast.
“I know what you want to do—you want to close me out. I get that. I can see it all over your body. And, believe me, I understand.”
Your hand grabbed the edge of the door. That initial glassiness in your eyes only grew glimmerier; the frown tacked onto your mouth somehow threaded with even more fulgurant rage. He could see that you were going to snuff him into nothing, like grabbing onto a candle wick with your fingers despite the hot wax and flame.
But it couldn’t end so abruptly.
Wonwoo held up his hands, baring his palms in defense.
“Just—okay. Her, I hurt you. Hurt is even too weak of a word to use. I know that. I promise I do. I know what I did… and… and I know that I must have some fucking gal to come here unannounced after everything I said, but I've got an explanation. I swear.”
There was notable uplift in his chest, watching your grip loosen on the door, fall down to the handle, losing the hostility. Wonwoo paused to catch his breath, ensuring his eyes never wavered.
 “And… if you decide to listen to me… and you still really don’t want me in your life… I-I can respect that. If all you want is for me to disappear and never bother you again… I can respect that…” he felt sick just voicing it, like he could faint at the prospect. “It might be such a stupid fucking thing for me to say, considering how I treated you, but I genuinely want to do whatever will make you happiest.”
Was it good enough? Feasible, even marginally?
Wonwoo didn’t know. He could only stand in place and study the metamorphosis of your face—from deep-seeded anger, to something pained and unintelligible, and now, contemplation. The inner monologue in your head was probably running on overdrive.
Your fingernails carved into the door.
He kept quiet, waiting, until you quickly wiped something from your cheek and swallowed the lump in your throat.
“… Fine,” you uttered in a raspy, weak tone.
Relief struck him like a breeze during a heatwave.
“Thank yo—”
“But if I say I want you to leave, then you will leave, and you will not say one word on your way out my door or spare me one glance, even if it’s from the corner of your fucking eye.”
Wonwoo was staring straight into your gaze, then shifting to the pointed finger sticking in his face. You were deadly serious.
He nodded.
Finally, however, you stepped aside to let him in.
Wonwoo didn’t know if he should sit or stand. If he should grab a stool at the marbled kitchen island or come to fit himself at the edge of the cream sofa. The interior was pretty much identical to his previous visit, though he realized that a few potted plants you once kept by the elegant floor-length windows were missing—he’d assumed they’d died—it was probably somehow his fault.
“Um, where should we—where do you want to—”
“Kitchen.”
With your arms folded stiff, you walked behind the island.
He stood on the opposite side, knowing it was likely not a coincidence that you opted to put a barrier between yourselves.
It was a foolish idea and he would certainly not extrapolate, but Wonwoo wanted to ask about you. He wanted to know how your work was going at the beauty salon, if you had any more obnoxious dinner parties with your parents—were you still writing? To even look at you from across the hard countertop, captured in the quiet dimness of your kitchen, with your soft and bare face and those cute silk pyjamas, was enough to stop his heart if he allowed it.
Wonwoo pushed up his glasses, sighing.
“Before I explain anything… I just want to say—”
“I don’t care about that,” you interrupted without hesitation, eyes scalding and sharp, “I know you’re sorry. It’s the least you could feel after everything you said to me. I don’t care.”
“R-Right…” he trailed off, sensing the heat from the overhead lights as though they were shining directly into his face. Wonwoo pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie, gulping, “I guess you want to know—"
“Why. I want to know why you did what you did.”
“Why?” He echoed dumbly.
“Yes, why. Pull out an entire script and apologize—I don’t want that. Acknowledge what you did—good for you. I’m glad you can see how fucked up it was, all while I had to cope with your analysis on why I’m such a god-awful person. People say sorry all the time. I know it can be genuine. I just don’t care. Sorry doesn’t help me understand. Sorry doesn’t take away the weeks I lost, tearing myself apart. Sorry doesn’t mean fucking anything to me if all you’re apologizing for is something I already lived and breathed.”
“No, that—yeah, it makes sense...”
His fingers suddenly gripped the edge of the island, knuckles ivory white. Your intensity was more disorienting than a drug, but Wonwoo knew he needed to stay calm. Breathe. Listen.
“Okay, so?” You shrugged. “Tell me, then.”
“Why I did what I did…” Wonwoo exhaled, staring at his reflection in the marble while his mind twitched into complete blankness. “Well... I-I guess I was feeling… there was a lot I was feeling and... fuck.”
At the last second, he scraped everything he was going to say.
Wonwoo then looked up at you, who was so cold and reluctant.
“You know, um… before I met you, I had a girlfriend. I know I've never mentioned it. But her name was Jeanie. I met her at the university, actually. She worked in the Morrison library—like, the big stone building that looks like a castle, almost. Anyway. I met her because I needed to sign out a textbook for this elective I was taking and she helped me find it… Jeanie. Yeah. I don’t know if you ever saw her or—she was really shy. But I felt like she listened well, no matter what you were saying, or what you were talking about. She would give you her full attention. And… I just remember thinking… I could tell you anything, Jeanie. I could tell you I fucking pushed someone in front of a bus and you would wait and listen and hear me out until the end. She would make you feel… normal… human.
But—the thing is—I’m sort of laughing because I’m saying all this now, but… at the time, even despite my love for her, and how much I trusted her… I just… I kept her out. I didn’t think it was a bad thing. She knew I had anxiety, but never knew how bad. I never told her I stopped taking my pills. I never told her my actual feelings about anything… like, despite having this perfect person in my life, I still couldn’t open up. I didn’t think there was much harm to it, either. It would cause tension. Things would get… uncomfortable… but as long as she was there, I was like—I can get away with this. I don’t need to really discuss anything. She will always be here.
And then… one day… she just… wasn’t… uh—ahem—sorry, just—something in my throat, b-but, uh… yeah. She was gone. All her clothes, all her belongings: toothbrush, makeup, clothes, stuffed toys, notebooks, mugs, house decorations. It was all gone. I remember coming home to an apartment that was stripped bare. Like a skeleton. She took every part of herself from it. And all I could do was dumbly stand there and look at the bones.
Her number was disconnected, too. There was no one I could get a hold of that would tell me anything until I got this weird, vague email from her mom. ‘My daughter won’t be seeing you anymore. She’s safe. No need to worry.’  Those words picked themselves into my brain. I would go to sleep seeing them. I would repeat them in my head all night, and wake up with them still chiming. And I thought to myself, with all the weight in my heart… how could she do this? How could she leave and take everything and erase me without a word? It had to be her and it had to be the world just proving my point: being vulnerable, trusting, expressive—it isn’t worth it.
I really, truly believed it. I mean, I held onto it. I always looked at her as the one with the issue, but—fuck—it was me. I was the fucking issue. I… I must have made her feel so unimportant. I probably confused her, destroyed our trust, fucked up her concept of love. Like… I made her feel so trapped… that she felt the best thing to do was disappear, because there was no other way out… I made her feel that way. Me. It was me the entire time. And… I never really processed that until you were six feet away, screaming at me, cursing me up and down in the same living room I came home to that day, all emptied out. I had it out with you, the way I never had with Jeanie…
And the truth is, Her… I kind of… I always sort of knew I had that problem. I lived without ever wanting to acknowledge it. But I never really… I-I basically… I didn’t care about fixing it until I met you.”
Wonwoo tilted his head and stared at your quivering bottom lip, the shininess to your razor-sharp eyes, the manner in which your fingernails were sinching indents upon the skin of your biceps.
He paused, chuckling.
“I know I already told you… but you used to terrify me. I didn’t think we would ever mesh. Whenever I looked at you, I saw someone who knew herself, and I was so severely the opposite. But miraculously, I guess, you ended up being the person I feel the most comfortable with… when I see someone strong like you unravel, it makes me want to unravel, too. The trust I had for you was infinite.”
From across the island, Wonwoo noted how your eyes momentarily drifted down. A lump was sitting square at the base of your throat and it took a very dense swallow for you to even speak.
“… Had?” You whispered with a sniffle, hugging yourself.
Rolling out his shoulders, Wonwoo frowned.
“It was the party, Her. If you remember us talking in the guest bedroom… I told you that story about my brother and I, about my decision to move from Changwon… you’d nearly grappled Bells down to the ground an hour before. You apologized to me because you thought it ruined my night, but I promised you that it was fine, that I would always be here for you. And then we split ways. And you… you were… well, there’s really no clean way to say it but—”
“I had sex with Mingyu.”
“Uh, well… yeah.”
You shook your head. “He’s my boyfriend, Wonwoo.”
“I know, I know. It makes it sound stupid but—”
“No—wait. You’re pissed at me because I chose to have sex with my boyfriend? Are you—are you hearing yourself?”
“Her, please, listen—”
“I went through all of your bullshit because of that!”
“Can I just—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“It was because I liked you!”
Wonwoo’s heart was thumping almost audibly against his chest while his veins soared with adrenaline. Your fists were sitting, balled, on the kitchen island, though they began to unfurl as the weight cupping his confession—which was a mild version of what he truly meant to say—hung in the air like the plumes from a wildfire.
“I liked you, a lot," he admitted, watching your eyes slim with confusion, "and I’m sorry if that ruins us even more… but it’s true.”
“Wha—what—no. What do you mean you liked me? You liked me as in what? You liked me in a crushy silly way that’s just for fun, o-or you liked me in a serious way, that’s like, you want to… you want…”
Your mouth hung open, shoulders hunching.
His teeth gritted. “I thought I could… I wanted to…”
“Please just spit it out.”
“I wanted to be with you. I wanted to be your boyfriend.”
Flares of heat melted slow across his face. Wonwoo could feel his temperature climatically rising. Still, it wasn’t the entire truth. His likeness wasn’t just that—it was a fully blossomed and unshakeable love. Though, he figured it might be too much, too suddenly.
“O-Oh…” you stuttered, “… and, you thought that…”
“Maybe you felt the way I did. Not that I’m going to ask if you did or didn’t. I mean, this was over a month ago. I’ve had lots of time to myself. I’ve been thinking plenty… the point is, I let those feelings affect my clarity and that’s why I felt so hurt. I felt like I was so open and candour just to kinda have it… thrown back in my face. But it just seems like every relationship I have, I sabotage it somehow… I didn’t go about us in the right way—not at all. It blew up into something terrible. I wish every day that I would have handled it differently. But I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut when I should have just talked to you.”
“Oh… god, Wonwoo.”
“I-I don’t know. It was late, and I was high—you were off a line of coke for fuck’s sake—I just—in that moment, didn’t it feel… like we were something? More than friends? Maybe you don’t remember everything. Some of it’s a blur, even to me. Like some fever dream.”
“No… I do remember some of it. I remember the spare bedroom. I remember how fucking comfortable that bed was. You were there… you were… helping me… and we... I know at some point we were lying down together but I don’t remember what I was thinking or everything I said… it’s just—it’s a lot… too much, almost.”
A groan reverberated from within your deepest cavity and he could only watch through the warm kitchen light as you leaned forward into your hands, your body slumped against the countertop and radiating with agony. Wonwoo didn’t know what to make of the spectacle, though he chose to let you swim in whatever sentiment was swallowing you whole, your head beginning to shake back and forth.
“Wonwoo… listen… I get that—I get what you’re saying, okay? I get that you have this fucking problem with vulnerability, and trust, and the—the, um—the self-sabotaging. I know. I have that, too. And I can understand that it was possible to misinterpret us…”
That word was like a decommissioning punch to his gut—misinterpret—as though it was merely wishful, ditzy thinking and it was him and him alone living inside the delusion despite the fact you were snuggling up against him. However, Wonwoo bit his tongue and simply listened. He didn’t need his bruised heart getting in the way.
“But that night was just—it was irresponsible, okay? On both our parts. I have a boyfriend who I very much l-like, and… and we’re just—you and I, I mean—we’re good at being friends. And you said it yourself that you’ve had time to think and get past it, so…”
“… Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Wonwoo didn’t need his love to be reciprocated nor did he want to know if you actually harboured any feelings toward him back then. All he desired was for you to get what you had plainly wanted—the why. Perhaps it was unsatisfactory, lacklustre, or maybe it was beyond ridiculous and too inconceivable for words.
He was grateful that he’d even made it this far.
With a heavy, laboured sigh, you managed to push yourself from the marbled counter. A hand then propped onto your hip.
Your nails clicked once against the island.
“So… that’s it, huh?” There was a nasally tone to your voice.
Biting his lip, Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, nodding. “Mmhm.”
Your head tilted straight back, like you were attempting to stop a runny trail of tears from escaping down your cheeks. You suckled in a breath, pressed your lips together firmly.
And then, abruptly, you laughed, pinching at your nose while your eyes squeezed shut. It was an exhausted, humourless laugh.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He didn’t exactly know what it was you were cursing, whether it be the realization of what the fight actually meant, or a reaction to his timid, but expired, confession. It could be that the information was too daunting and you were left with no instinct of how to manage it. Wonwoo chewed down on his tongue, keeping silent.
When your eyes opened again, they fell toward the fridge.
“Um… wasn’t it your birthday? Back in July?” You asked with a wet sniffle, brushing a wrist underneath your nose.
“Yeah… July seventeenth.”
Not bothering to speak, you walked over to the fridge and pulled the door open, pale light emanating from inside as you rifled around, moving containers and cartons and fresh produce. It was then that you revealed a cardboard box. Returning to the counter, you set the box in the very centre, and with trembling hands, you began unsticking the corners in order to reveal the surprise inside—a decent sized cupcake, frosted high with thick, white icing.
You sniffed again, turning to grab something from a utensil drawer, and then another item or two out the cupboard.
“It’s from Terra Cotta—it’s just a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese icing—which I ordered as a dessert when I ate out with Princess the other night. But I was too full to eat it after stuffing my face with pasta, unfortunately. So, I got it packaged up. Stuck it in the fridge. Forgot about its existence until now.”
A butter knife fell onto the island, followed by a lighter and a single pink candle. You sighed, eyes turning waterier by the minute, and Wonwoo felt a twinge in his chest that ached like hell.
“Do you like red velvet cake?”
Wonwoo huffed, shrugging. “Um, I’m not sure. Never had it.”
You picked up the candle. “Want to?”
He smiled. “Sure.”
Rather than keeping the cupcake inside the box, you moved the dessert delicately onto a clean porcelain plate and proceeded to shut the lights off. The orange sunset that painted the streets had bled out all its lurid colour. Wonwoo was just beginning to realize how dark it was in the apartment. You propped the pink candle into the expertly piped cream cheese frosting and ignited the tiny wick. A shivering halo of fire reflected in the marble countertop as the flame wriggled and the wax burnt.
Honestly, he didn’t know what the moment signified—if it was a mere gesture of forgiveness, or just a simple means to release all the tension—Wonwoo had not a clue. He thought he should be looking at the cupcake but Wonwoo was looking at you and the lambent glow flickering across your very upset, still face.
Sniffling again, you picked up the butter knife.
“Okay… hurry up and make a wish, please.”
“Really?” Wonwoo chuckled. “You want me to make a wish?”
“Uh… yes. That’s what people do when it’s their birthday.”
“It’s not my birthday.”
“Well—fuck—the spirit of your birthday, then.”
“You're asking a lot of me, you know. All this pressure.”
“Oh my god—it's just one ditsy little wish. I'm not asking you to write out your will, or solve world hunger. It's one stupid, tiny wish. For the sake of the moment. Hurry up before the wax drips on the icing.”
“I think you can just peel the wax off once it hardens—”
“Fuck! I don’t care, Wonwoo! God! Just—” he watched with a satisfactory smirk as you leaned forward and impatiently blew out the candle for him, “—there! Now, you don’t even get the opportunity to make a wish. Hope it was worth it.”
“So, you made a wish in my place, right?”
“Shut up. I’m cutting you the smaller half.”
“You didn't answer my question, though.”
“You didn't answer my question, though.”
“Hey, I don’t sound like that.”
“No, I didn't make a wish in your place—here.”
“Thank you.”
“… How does it taste?”
“Uh, it’s good. A little firm. The icing is really rich, but I suppose that’s typical of cream cheese stuff. But overall, I like it.”
“I really love red velvet. Especially in cupcake form.”
“Hm. Didn’t know that.”
“I wonder if I could get a dozen ordered for my birthday...”
“We’re celebrating my birthday and you’re already thinking of your own? Can you at least wait until I’m out the fucking door?”
“You said it doesn’t matter!”
“Now, that’s not what I said.”
“Don't act like such a smart ass.”
Wonwoo knew he missed your quippy retorts, but he hadn’t realized he’d missed it this much. It was filling a pitted crater within his chest that had remained empty and stone cold ever since the argument.
As you turned the kitchen light back on, Wonwoo stuffed the rest of the frosted cupcake into his mouth and dusted his hands clean.
He didn’t know what was supposed to happen now.
Stubbornly, Wonwoo didn’t want to leave your apartment. It had been too long since he’d last seen your beautiful face, and half his summer was already wasted to lamenting the relationship he’d ungraciously snipped in half like a fresh garden rose. If you wanted him to leave, then he would oblige, because Wonwoo could never go back on his word to abide by the choices that might make you the happiest. That was what he cared about most, anyway.
From the opposite side of the island, you began to cross your arms again, fingers digging tight into your ribs. Wonwoo could see that the hues of grief and melancholy hadn’t really abandoned your face since his arrival, and the tears that had earlier welled up in your eyes were steadily returning, glinting along your bottom lashes as though they were dew droplets. Feeling his throat turn dry and sensing the air become dampened with your sadness, Wonwoo knew what you were going to ask—he braced himself quick.
“So… um…” you began pulling at the short sleeve of your silk-buttoned top, rolling the fabric between uneasy fingers, “it’s getting a little bit late and I just t-think you should go now, Wonwoo…”
He nodded, pushing at his glasses. “Yeah… of course.”
There was such an evident somberness about the way his feet dragged toward the door. You had walked him over, and now that the space between you was significantly less, Wonwoo had never battled so hard with his self-control to keep himself from touching you—even if it was just a slight, chaste brush of his fingers against yours—the simplicity and feel of your strawberry-scented skin would appease his constant aching. He glanced at you, saw that your arms were still crossed and your eyes trained to muse over the floorboards.
Wonwoo scraped against the cuticle of his thumb.
Does he just… leave?
It felt too abrupt.
He smiled at you, keeping it soft and mindful.
“Thank you for listening to me… I mean it… you didn’t have to but you did anyway and… uh, I don’t know. Just—thank you.”
“Mmhm…”
You were squeezing at your ribs even tighter now, pressing in your fingers so unnaturally deep. In fact, Wonwoo was beginning to feel worried, especially when he noticed the quivering in your frame and the hard bite you were sinking into your lower lip—how there were tears streaking one by one down the slope of your cheeks.
Wonwoo’s hand had been lingering on the doorknob, though it slipped off absentmindedly. He wanted to reach for your shoulder and give it a comfortable, warm massage, but he was still too fearful.
“Her… are you alright?”
After a cautious step closer, Wonwoo paused, attempting to peer at your face despite its pointed direction toward the floor. The question was worthless, he realized. You were crying and choking up.
“Do you… should I go?”
God—what an even more stupid question to ask—the thing he wanted to do least was leave when you were this hurt. But Wonwoo needed to know if it was his presence that was disturbing you.
You shook your head, sniffled up all the wet, runny congestion in your nose. He watched the teeth free from your lip as you gasped.
“I-I don’t know… I’m really, really sad, Wonwoo.”
He thought he might panic in the midst of your crumbling, however, there was too much guilt and heartache inside him.
“I know…” he murmured.
Somehow, it felt so criminal to just stand there and watch you weep, hearing every desperate attempt for a breath as you could only clutch onto yourself harder and let the tears helplessly fall.
Wonwoo swallowed, feeling his throat burn.
“Can I comfort you for a bit?”
You hiccupped, and your face pinched up in complete misery, the response struggling to escape through the large sob you cried out.
“Please.”
Immediately, his hands braced against the edges of your very warm, wet face. The heat was radiating like a summer blacktop, and the tears were quick to pool against his fingers as he did his darndest to softly clean and wipe them from your skin—though, Wonwoo came to accept that it might be futile—and he opted to cup your cheeks for just a brief moment, staring into your damp lashes and puffy eyes.
“Still such a gorgeous girl, even when you’re crying.”
You huffed at him, grasping onto his hoodie and tugging it.
“I need you closer, please.”
Waddling into his arms, your face smushed right against his shoulder. In the dim august dusk that meekly glowed through the windows of your downtown, sumptuous apartment, Wonwoo cradled you, coaxing a hand nice and gentle along your trembling head while his arm kept you secured firm into his body. As wonderful as it felt to hold you in the way he always dreamt of, Wonwoo knew that those tears wrinkling his clothes were mostly driven by him.
Your arms dug into his chest. It seemed like you wanted to burrow impossibly closer, into his ribs if you could, but the desire frustratingly couldn’t be fulfilled. To compensate, Wonwoo attempted to squeeze you even more, though he was somewhat afraid of cracking you in half. Maybe that’s what you were craving.
But he liked you very much alive.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, still damp from the shower and rife with the scent of fragrant blossoms, “I know you don’t want me to apologize, but I have to. Everything I said to you… it was just stupid, pent-up rage from my own shortcomings… so much was building inside me and I made such a dumb fucking mistake—taking our situation and using it as a target—it was all bullshit..." inhaling a breath, Wonwoo sighed. "I shouldn’t have let you walk out that door… but I don’t think you would have wanted to listen, anyway... you probably would have just told me again to go fuck myself… you know, that was actually the first time I’ve ever been told that?”
Your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder. The breath you proceeded to cough out made it sound like you were terribly ill.
“T-That’s hard to believe…”
Wonwoo smiled, smoothing a hand down your back. “You think so?”
Threading your fingers deeper into his hoodie, you nodded.
Stopping to contemplate, Wonwoo ended up agreeing, “hm… yeah... you’re right. There were probably a lot of times in my life where I deserved to hear that. But you’re the first, anyway.”
“Y-You… you deserve to hear it again… I mean, what were you thinking, Wonwoo?” Raising your head from his shoulder and sucking in a much-needed breath, you rubbed at the glisten iridescent to your face. “I didn’t know… I was just trying to t-tal-talk to you…”
Wonwoo unstuck some small, matted hairs from your forehead, guiding them away with the daintiest movements.
“I know you were...” he answered, keeping his voice quiet.
“And then, in the car… I-I just sat there and cried for so long that the sky got dark. I didn’t know what to do—like, I thought I might call Mingyu but he was at work a-and I had no idea what I would even say to him... and then, I called Princess. And she said I could come over and I legit couldn’t get one fucking word out to her.”
Meanwhile focusing on your choked, heavy sentiments, Wonwoo continued to clean the tears from your face. A warm hand had grabbed onto his wrist, not stopping him—just gently holding—as though you needed the contact to ground yourself, even a little bit.
“The shitty part was… even when I was at my angriest… I still couldn’t get myself to hate you. But I wanted it so bad, Wonwoo. I stayed up almost every night, trying to convince myself that you were the worst person I ever met, a-and that I would be better off without you—that you were a poison to me and everything about you is just a ruse to hurt people. No matter what I told myself, nothing would ever work… because I would—I-I don’t fucking know—I would think about how fucking good you make me feel inside. H-How happy I am when I’m with you. You listen to me, a-and you care about my thoughts and my interests and you’re just—you—you fucking live inside me somehow and I want you out so bad but there’s nothing I can do.”
Wonwoo had removed his hands from your face.
They slid down to your hips. He squeezed them tight, digging his thumbs into your flesh and bone over the silken shorts.
“You live inside me, too.”
Rubbing off your nose, you shook your head angrily.
“It can’t be like that.”
His throat twisted up.
“Why?”
“B-Because it—it can’t. You know I have Mingyu…”
“I only think about you. It’s always you. I don’t want it to change.” Wonwoo pleaded, hanging onto every word—trying to search for your eyes despite the adamant refusal to meet his gaze. 
“But I just—I can’t do it.”
“Why?”
“Because!” You pushed at his broad chest, forcing him away as the anguished, grief-stricken shout reverberated between the high ceilings. Gripping at your head, you started to cry again. “I-I’m still so fucking angry at you, Wonwoo. I hate holding onto it and I hate that it’s been over a month and I’m still processing everything, but I can’t just move on from those feelings! I have to see it through. ”
The air was ice cold against him.
He just wanted your perfect body back in his arms.
“O-Okay… okay. I get it.”
“You do? Because I can’t keep reliving this. I just can’t.”
Wonwoo sighed, curling his fingers in and out.
“No, I—I hear you. I promise.”
You still needed time. You weren’t ready to forgive him. That was okay, and he wasn’t the least bit vexated by it. If he had to wait an entire year, then he would wait. Nothing would shake him from you.
Slapping a palm against your cheek, you shoved away the further tears which were seeming to become an annoyance. Wonwoo wanted desperately to be the one to wipe your pretty face and kiss away the salty taste of your sadness, but he knew not to push his luck.
Beyond the windowpanes, the sky was nearly pitch black, pinpricked by all the distant lights from the city buildings.
“I’ll go now, okay?” Wonwoo murmured.
Folding your arms, you sniffled a little, nodding.
“Okay...”
He wanted to say goodnight to you, but then he thought of that rule you had proclaimed during your late-night phone conversation many moons ago—you had to say it first as courtesy.
Except, you were silent.
Nonetheless, Wonwoo had liked to think it was sitting right on the tip of your tongue, just as it was sitting on his.
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—SEPTEMBER 8TH.
When he thought back on his summer, Wonwoo couldn’t believe the quickness with which it had flown by, especially considering how nauseously slow some parts moved while he existed, trapped, inside them. Still, it was probably Wonwoo’s most eventful summer since his move from Korea, in more ways than one. Now, it was back to university for his final year as a maths student, and Wonwoo actually couldn’t be happier for the introduction of routine and the opportunity to test all the inner workings he’d accomplished.
Just last week, Vernon had thrown together a small party in the backyard of his friend’s rental home. He was housesitting, and though Wonwoo wasn’t sure why the friend in question would pick a promiscuous drug dealer for hospitality upkeep, the party was apparently approved and Wonwoo had made the effort to attend.
It gave him the chance to reunite with Seungcheol and Seokmin who he’d unintentionally given the cold shoulder. He was just thankful they were relaxed about everything. The night was spent swapping stories from their summer by the makeshift firepit, drinking cold beers, and watching the fireflies twinkle in the dry backyard brush. Vernon had spent all his time sweet-talking some new girl he’d invited from the club, and when they disappeared inside for about half an hour, Wonwoo prayed his bladder could hold out.
Wonwoo had also invited Sierra.
He figured she was just too warm and amicable and he knew she would get along seamlessly with everyone there.
Since they last spoke downstairs in the pottery shop during late July, Sierra had gotten herself a girlfriend—a patron of the Honeymoon who worked up the courage to ask Sierra out after admiring her bartending skills, as he’d heard it—and Wonwoo was more than happy to extend the invite. Seungcheol had predictably brought along Princess, though Wonwoo hadn’t been too worried. They seemed to be on good terms despite the chip in the relationship.
If you had been in town at the time, Wonwoo would have invited you, too. But you weren’t, instead accompanying your mother on a three-day venture outside the city for some publisher’s trip.
But he kept you in mind the entire night. He saw you in the wide, bright moon sitting squarely above the crackling fire, and he felt you in the colder breezes that whispered the beginnings of a soft, fresh autumn. You were everywhere inside him, just like his blood.
Wonwoo had liked to think he’d done it right. All those conversations he shared with you over the phone since the reunion at your apartment seemed promising—even when they flared and ached like a broken bone—Wonwoo had just wanted to hear your voice and know your heart. Though, the conclusion had dipped him in a strange, confusing predicament he still struggled to reason.
“I think we work best as friends… we’ll always be friends.”
The moment was followed by the most intense silence, and then Wonwoo had shifted the phone against his ear, spreading on an audible smile that couldn’t have looked any faker in person.
“Yeah… I see that, too.”
But he didn’t.
He was still in love with you.
And now Wonwoo didn’t know what to do.
You had come to an agreement that he should no longer help you with the book as it had been a point of contention since the start. Plus, you were now confident enough in your skills to finish it.
Surprisingly, Wonwoo was okay with that.
Nonetheless, he did offer his help if you ever needed it.
In fact, as Wonwoo sat in the small auditorium for his newest elective—the continuation to last year’s creative writing—he was scrolling through an old document you had sent him months ago, containing a litany of the same messily written paragraph, just rehashed as you attempted to find the best wording for it. Wonwoo couldn’t help but smile against the palm squishing at his chin.
Your mind always did seem to work in twelve different ways.
Since he’d shown up early to the lecture, Wonwoo was able to pick a good seat in the middle. He recognized a few faces from last year as more students began to trickle in. Wonwoo kept his bookbag on the chair to his right because he liked the extra space, though he began fearing he might have to move it when the lecture hall filled to a degree past his expectations. Since when did all these people take the class last year? Was it because of the new professor? He spun a pen between his fingers, observing everyone rather judgementally.
“Hey—are you saving a seat for your non-existent friend, or are you leaving your bag here to make sure no one else would sit beside you? Not that anyone would want to with the way you’re begrudgingly staring down every single person who walks in here.”
Wonwoo grinned, the pen stilling into his hand.
He knew your attitude like the ducks on his aunt’s shower curtain.
“If it’s such a big deal to you, you can move it.”
“Oh, can I? Do I get the pleasure of moving your bookbag, Wonwoo? Are you really that kind as to save such a life-changing, personal, and intimate experience, just for me?”
Smirking up at you, Wonwoo dropped his bag onto the floor.
He was promptly greeted by a very shiny smile.
“That’s what I thought,” you said matter-of-factly, setting your iconic cream purse onto your lap after sliding into the chair.
“So,” Wonwoo huffed, leaning back and casting you a curious glance, “you didn’t tell me you were going to take creative writing.”
Pulling out some chapstick, you laughed. “Uh—you didn’t tell me, either,” the comment was wry and muttered through the obstacle of moisturizing your lips.
Scratching his temple, Wonwoo chuckled, “fair.”
“Gosh, there’s so many people in here. Way more than I was expecting. I mean, who even are these goddamn people? I hardly recognize any of them—oh my gosh, do you think it’s because of the new professor? I looked her up, you know. She’s published three books—they’ve all got crazy good accolades—and one of them was even made into a movie! That has to be why. Should I try to get face time with her after class? No—actually, I won’t. Then I look totally desperate. I’ll play it cool. I’ll wait until, like, three classes from now.”
“Well, you’re never short of making an impression.”
“Meaning what?”
“Fuck,” Wonwoo laughed, “what the fuck do you think it means? It’s not like I’m talking in morse code. You make an impression.”
You smacked a hand down on his knee. “Well, how do I know if you mean good or bad! And don't curse at me like that.”
“Okay, okay. You're right. I'm sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” he replied, softening his voice, “I am very extremely sorry.”
That little smile you gave him was enchanting.
Wonwoo cleared his throat. “And I meant good, obviously.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. If you say anything to her, she’ll love you.”
“That’s a bit extreme.”
“She’ll keep you reasonably in her thoughts?”
“Hm. Yes. I like that better,” you agreed.
While you busied yourself with removing the laptop from your purse and taking an extra minute to inspect your face with a small, compact mirror, Wonwoo glanced around the room again. A few people standing by the professor’s podium at the front were looking at you, their mouths moving in conversation, though Wonwoo could hear none of it from the general chatter. He supposed you were used to getting those dissecting, curious, maybe even sometimes hurtful stares. There was always a light shining on you, wanted or not.
As Wonwoo pulled open the class syllabus on his laptop, he felt a tap against his shoulder. Slightly turning his head, he spotted someone shuffling by in the cramped row behind him, waving.
“Hey, Wonwoo,” the stranger said quickly in passing.
Squinting at him through his glasses, Wonwoo nodded. “Uh, hey.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Who was that?”
He shrugged. “No idea. Someone from last year, I guess.”
“I see. Mr. Popular. Taking names and breaking hearts.”
Wonwoo laughed, shaking his head. “The opposite, actually.”
You giggled so lightly at his response, and for a very slow moment, Wonwoo saw and felt the heat of your eyes stilling in focus upon his face. He squirmed somewhat in his seat, fingers picking at the rough, dark blue material upholstered over the chair’s arm. But then you resumed staring back at yourself in the compact mirror while applying another layer of lip balm, and Wonwoo had to subtly breathe out all the butterflies that fluttered up from his stomach.
With a satisfying snap, you’d shut the mirror, stuffing it back into the purse that was sitting atop his bag on the floor. He wanted to ask you how the book was coming along, how much progress you had made since he last proofread anything, if you were still engaging in those messily long sentences or had you since learned to clean them up.
But it was hard for Wonwoo to ask.
He studied the nervous hands in his lap.
“So… are you free after class?”
You tilted your head in thought. “Uh, I think so? This is my only class today, actually. No more SSA. I’m beyond happy. No one else seemed to take it well but me. I don’t care, though.”
“No, you made the right choice.”
“So, why do you ask?” Angling your body toward him, you smiled, and Wonwoo felt this pool of warmth expand in his chest.
“Do you want to stop at the café on Sunnyside?”
“Maybe. Is it good? I’ve never actually ate there.”
“I think it’s good,” he said, bouncing his knee. “I used to sit in there all the time. I don’t as much anymore, but it’s a cute place to visit. About a ten-minute walk from here. Plus, it’s nice outside.”
You nodded. “I’ll think it over.”
Knowing that class was starting soon, Wonwoo moved the phone sitting on the edge of his tabletop into his back pocket.
“Actually, can I ask you something?”
He stiffened in his seat, hardly managing a nod. That always seemed to be a weighted question, especially in your hands, and the fact that you were biting the skin of your bottom lip only stirred forth more worry. Wonwoo folded his arms and nodded, feeling his heart beat.
“Well, it’s just—there’s no exact date yet, okay? But sometime in very late September my family is having another dinner party.”
Wonwoo’s fingers dug into his arms.  “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you trailed off, continuing to bite your lip, “and, I basically—I-I’ve kind of been blabbing to my mom and stuff. You’ve definitely come up in some conversations. She made a comment that I could invite you and even though I disagree with her on, like, millions of things, I thought it might be a good idea…” your eyes flashed at him doubtfully. “So, like, I’m not gonna force you or anything. I’ve ranted to you about these dinner parties before so I’m sure you know how awful they can be. But… I don’t know… I mean, you don’t even have to stay the entire time. You could just pop by, o-or, or something like that. I just… I think seeing you before will help calm me down.”
Out of everything you could have asked, Wonwoo was least expecting the dinner party question. It seemed to have a very routine structure and Wonwoo couldn’t help but think that his presence there might throw everything off-kilter and the last—the very fucking last—thing he wanted was for your parents to absolutely loathe him. You always complained about them. Even with Mingyu and Seokmin there to accompany you, it seemed never to be enough. However, Wonwoo would hate to leave you hanging so dryly out in the open.
Even if he dreaded it, you mattered more to him than any awkward or nervous sentiments he harboured about the situation.
“Uh… okay. Yeah. I can go.”
You straightened up like a hair standing on end. “Really?!”
He nodded, pushing up his glasses. “Yeah.”
“Oh my gosh! You’re the best!”
Leaning over the chair rest, you bracketed your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, squeezing him into a quick hug that left his heart racing. Your sweet smell lingered in his nose as you slipped away.
“That’s such a relief… and—yes—for as much as I complain about it, I promise I’ll do my absolute best to keep everything on the rails. I’ll get you out of anything awkward or uncomfortable. And if you feel like it’s too much, I’ll be right there. I promise.”
Wonwoo smiled bashfully, shaking his head.
“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. I can manage a few shit conversations and uncomfortable silences. I’ve got my own problematic parents. I appreciate the thought, though. Means a lot.”
It would be another matter to anxiously dwell over until it actually happened, but Wonwoo was okay with it knowing how receptive you had become to his mood. More than anything, he didn’t know how to deal with Mingyu. The party had been decent. There were multiple people to bounce off and uplift the weight, substances to mellow the tension and distract the mind. But this felt very different. This would be more intimate. Less room for error in the form of lasting, arduous glances and short but gentle touches.
All he hoped for is that it might end better than the party.
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—SEPTEMBER 29TH.
“So, I’ll come pick you up, okay? Just gotta text me.”
“… Yeah, that works. Okay.”
“Take a breath, Glasses. If anyone’s got this, it’s you, alright? No negative Nina shit. You’re lookin’ gorgeous, even more than me.”
“It’s Nancy.”
“What?”
“It’s—never mind.”
“Who’s Nancy?”
“I said never mind.”
“Okay, okay. Jeez… make sure you drop the attitude when you get in there. It’s not very cute of you, yeah?”
Wonwoo felt Vernon’s hand grip onto his shoulder, bestowing him a confident shake that somehow only served to reveal how jellied and weak he’d become. But Wonwoo also knew he couldn’t sit inside the mint-scented interior of his friend’s vanilla Camry the entire night, waiting for some lightning bolt to strike him with the energy he blatantly needed. Consequently, his attitude had gotten a bit snappy.
Vernon was right, though. Wonwoo had to find it within himself to relax, take a breath, and realize the time would fly once he was past the initial haze. Besides, you were there. That was all he really cared about. It made the most impossible things possible.
Looking down at the sleek, unwrinkled material of his black suit jacket, Wonwoo gave it a final and deciding tug. He then reached for the gift bag sitting by his feet. Inhaling, his lungs filled deep with air and Wonwoo was clicking his fist against Vernon’s.
“You’ve got this, playboy.”
“See you on the other side, I guess.”
Exiting the vehicle, Wonwoo spared one last hopeful glance at his face-studded friend before slamming the door shut, now caught outside underneath the moon’s shimmer. Late nights in September always seemed to be somewhat dewy and cold, with golden, ruby, and amber leaves slicked against the streets like flowers pressed into paper. Wonwoo shivered, smelling the earthiness in the atmosphere.
After tightening his fingers around the straps of the gift bag, he began making his way up the smoothly paved driveway, toward the welcoming and aglow ambiance that beamed from your family house.
He grabbed the rung at the door, slamming it a few times.
The anxious breath slowly flowed from his mouth as Wonwoo’s mind raced with who would be the one to answer. Feeling his circled glasses slip, Wonwoo pushed them back up using his finger. At the same time, the front door swung open, and in the clarity, relief washed over him like the caress of that autumn wind.
“Fuck! You’re here!”
Before Wonwoo could get a word out, your arms were already thrown around his neck. The hug was fleeting. As quickly as your body was pressed flush against his, it was gone a second later.
“Uh, yeah. Just got dropped off.”
“Oh my gosh. Come in, come in,” you chirped like an excited bird, pulling at his elbow, “I’m legit so happy you’re here. Don’t worry about taking off your shoes. I know I’m barefoot at the moment but I’ve been so freaking scatterbrained that I haven’t even picked out a pair of heels yet. You look amazing. I’ve never seen you dressed up!”
His face began to burn at the compliment.
“I don’t attend many things that require fancy clothes.”
“Well, there’s a first for everything.”
Smiling, Wonwoo realized that he hadn’t really marvelled your dress, but there was something awfully familiar about it—the shiny olive-green colour, the elegant, revealing slit at the right thigh, the thin yet simple straps draped along the open, lowcut back—he then remembered it was the final dress you had tried on from that expensive boutique in the mall. Somehow, the material looked even more stunning on you now than it did before.
His face grew warmer, sizzling almost.
“That dress has always looked perfect on you.”
There was so much more he could spew in the moment, some cloying, sweet thoughts and some very impure ones, too. But Wonwoo wasn’t trying to cross boundaries and he had to respect your wishes of staying as friends, even if it tore him up inside beyond words.
Fiddling with your fingers, you gave him a soft smile. “I’m glad you recognized it.”
The hallway suddenly got very quiet. You were both just standing there, staring at each other, biting lips and scratching skin.
“So, um, I guess I can show you arou—”
“Oh, there they are! Honey, they’re out here!”
Wonwoo’s tender gaze had suddenly snapped toward a woman barging out from an illuminated doorway, a wine glass poised in her hand while the largest, most bedazzled necklace he had ever seen weighed down to her chest. Weathered heels beat the floorboards, echoing between the walls as she stalked toward him.
“You must be Wonwoo!” 
Her hand was gripping onto his wrist and Wonwoo could only prompt a weak smile that was indicative of his racing, feeble heart.
“Yeah, correct. Pleased to finally meet you.”
 “Oh, charmer. Pleasure’s all mine, sunshine. Okay, but—let me get a good look at you. Don’t feel like you have to stand by the doorway, all polite-like. Come a bit more into the light, over here.”
���Mom, don’t pull him,” you warned between clenched teeth.
“Ah, it’s alright, it’s alright. Don’t fret so much. Sheesh.”
Standing beneath the warm and yellow glow from the hallway chandelier, there was notable heaviness in Wonwoo’s chest as your mother’s dilated, intensive gaze wracked along his every feature, as though she were the reading the fine print to one of her catalogues.
“You’re certainly gorgeous,” she complimented, “and that voice! So soothing. How do you not have a lovely lady on your arm?”
Wonwoo’s eyes skipped to you in complete and utter panic.
Grabbing onto her shoulder, you gently guided her away.
“Mom, come on. You’re smothering him, alright? Remember the thing with Mingyu? I told you not to do that anymore. He just got here and I want him to actually enjoy himself. Don’t be so… pouncey.”
“Okay. I got it,” the mom said, lifting her hand and wine glass in submission, seeming serious for no less a few seconds. “The princess of the house, FYI. She always gets what she wants.”
You knocked her touch away as she wriggled your chin, very poorly veiling your annoyance through a grumble, “it’s not like that.”
“Didn’t I call in your father? What’s taking so long?”
“I don’t know. He’s probably hiding in his office.”
“Is that where he is? Really? When I asked him to set the table? Jeez. You spend all day cooking a meal, chopping and dicing and braising and frying, and the man just can’t be bothered to put out some knives and forks. This is why I opened the wine early, y’know.”
Your arms folded, and you appeared so much smaller.
“Seokmin set the table already.”
“Oh! What—he—he did? I didn't even notice!”
“Yes, like an hour ago.”
“Oh my gosh! That boy’s an angel. Raised so well, wasn’t he? You know Seokmin, right, Wonwoo? You’re all friends?”
Awkwardly shifting in his place, Wonwoo nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder where Seokmin or Mingyu were. There was dulled music echoing softly from a distant room in the house. Down the hallway corridor, it seemed to open up into a big living space.
Suddenly, your mom began to wiggle her finger at the bag he was holding limp in his hand, and for a moment, Wonwoo had even forgot it existed. She sipped from her gradually disappearing wine again, her words sounding muffled as they fogged up the glass.
“Is that a gift I spot in your hand, dear?”
“Oh, yeah,” he answered.
Flattening a palm over the intricate jewel necklace glittering down her chest, your mother fawned adoringly, and Wonwoo’s stomach immediately dropped knowing it wasn’t her gift at all.
“Gosh! You shouldn’t’ve!”
“Uh, a-actually, it’s not—it was—I got this for your daughter.”
His gut twisted, watching the excitement and gleam drain from your mother’s face, her smile wiped away like an eraser to a penciled drawing. At least you had brightened up, though it wasn’t without caution, and Wonwoo wasn’t entirely sure what to say.
Straightening her spine, a grin then twitched unnaturally to her mouth. She was directly back into the wine for another drink.
“Well, that’s certainly thoughtful.” Wiping off her lips, she unnervingly held Wonwoo’s gaze for a brief moment, her eyes harder than diamonds. She then turned toward you, proceeding to gesture in a swirling motion with her finger at your face. “Sweetheart, if you don’t mind, could you take a few minutes to just fix your makeup?”
Your expression faltered, shoulders sagging.
“My makeup? What’s wrong with it?”
“Well, the lashes are lifting a bit. It’s not too noticeable in this dusky hallway but out in the proper light, everyone will be able to tell. And I wouldn’t use that shade of lipstick. Remember the tip I gave you? When we take photos that colour is not going to show well.”
“I do remember, yes. But I thought it could match with—”
“No but’s. These dinners are important for us, alright? Go fix.”
Wonwoo held his breath. In all his time spent getting to know you—your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves and oddly specific rules about the way things should work—the one cardinal sin was to never interrupt you. Even when he was fighting tooth and nail against you in his apartment, aching with hurt and bitterness, he didn’t cut you off once to get his word over yours. He doubted Mingyu had ever done it, and he was positive Seokmin hadn’t, either. To actually witness it felt somewhat like a crime requiring swift punishment.
Though, for all that Wonwoo was expecting in response to the rage that had just rippled across your face, there was nothing.
Because you’d choked it down like foul cough syrup.
He watched the fist unclench at your side.
“Okay,” you stated in surprising simplicity, “I’ll go fix it,” still with a sprinkle of attitude that your mother opted to ignore as she announced her trip into the kitchen to check the food.
The second she was obscured from view, a noticeable glisten of tears and exhaustion glimmered in your eyes, though you sucked all the emotions back with a deep, deep breath.
“Do you want to come with me, upstairs for a second?” You asked in a tight, shaky voice. “Unless you want to find Seokmin.”
Wonwoo shook his head. “No, I’ll see him later. Of course I’ll come with you,” he answered, smiling at you with all his tenderness.
He proceeded to follow you up a dimly lit staircase draped in a chocolate brown rug. The house looked quite small from the outside, hidden almost, by the inky night, but as Wonwoo accompanied you at the robust, wooden dresser kept against the corridor wall, he realized just how long the house actually was.
Your lower back pressed against the dresser, hands gripping the edges and fingers scraping the underside of the chestnut.
Wonwoo left the gift bag sitting next to an amorphous, black metallic sculpture that he couldn’t even begin to understand, then dusting off his palms and watching you shake your head.
“I mean, you’ve only been here for five minutes, and I’m already breaking out my seams,” you laughed, dabbing at a tear travelling too far down your cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for it to be like this so soon and I’m not gonna force you to stay.”
“Stop saying that,” Wonwoo urged, tucking his hands into his pockets, “I told you I would come. I’m not going to abandon you.”
You paused, biting the swollen skin of your bottom lip.
“… Okay.” Looking down at the ground, you wiped your damp face again before hugging yourself. “She always does this… she always has something to point out. Nothing can ever be perfect for her. I’ve spent, like, all day, preparing myself, because that’s what she wants, and it’s still not enough. I don’t get it. I feel—” you sucked in a needy breath, pinching at your nose, “—I feel like I’m just some stupid doll she’s trying to perfect, but I never came perfect in the first place, so it’s all a big waste, and somehow, it’s my fault… I know I’m unloading and I’m sorry for that, too. This day has just been—I hate it. I hate these dinners. I fucking hate everything about them. I want to bang my head against the wall.”
Wonwoo smiled at you.
He untucked a hand from his pocket and reached for the clenched fist at your hip, spreading apart your fingers into his.
“Don’t worry about that. I’m listening, okay?”
Though your eyes were misty with tears and tiredness, you managed to return a frail little grin that was deeply sincere. Your hand tightened in his for a moment, and then you were stepping into him like he was a fresh blanket straight from the laundry. Fingers bunched up his suit jacket and your face was warm against his neck.
“I think it’ll be a little better tonight,” you whispered. “You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me feel like I’m going insane.”
Wonwoo passed up and down your bare back with his hand, admiring the softness to your pampered skin and the luscious scent of your hair, though he knew you had probably hated every moment trapped in the hot shower, exfoliating and shaving and scrubbing your body clean. He felt you squeeze onto him harder.
“Can I see what your gift is?”
“Oh, yeah…” he muttered, pulling apart from your heat, “it’s kind of a two-in-one thing. It’ll make sense once I explain.”
“That seems exciting,” you answered, returning to your lean against the chestnut dresser, folding your arms and smiling.
“So, um—if you remember the poker game—I owed you a pretty big lump of cash,” Wonwoo said, reaching inside the bag to grab a smooth, matte box, “and then there was the day at the museum, of course. Running home in the rain. You lost a shoe.”
“Oh my gosh, yeah…” you giggled fondly at the memory.
“I was at the mall—and, yes, I know. Why would I be at the mall when I hate the place?  But I was getting my laptop fixed at that tech store on the third floor, and I also needed wires for my—okay. Never mind the rambling. Fuck, I’m turning into you now. Anyway, I walked past that one store you love and get pretty much all your clothes from. They had these heels in the window. The white ones, which you said to me are actually not white, but a very specific shade of ivory that I couldn’t see and still fail to see, to be honest. And they had that little bit of gold in the straps… but the point is—I got them for you.”
You glitched for a second, and it wasn’t until Wonwoo was basically pushing the box into your chest that you seemed to realize.
“Wait… you actually went to Rosette?”
He nodded matter-of-factly. “Yes.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Immediately, you flipped the box open and began flicking away the neatly trimmed cover of glittered tissue paper. “You got me the Gold Crystal Rope-Strapped and Ivory Ankle four-inch from Mirabella? Wonwoo! I-I was just talking when I saw them in the mall! I mean, you didn't have to actually get them!”
“I know,” Wonwoo answered, helping you pick the heels out from their imprints, “you’re always just talking, though.”
“Unnecessary.”
“To you.”
He was thankful you were too enraptured by the shoes to bother retaliating. Under regular circumstances, Wonwoo wouldn’t ever have been able to make such an expensive decision, but he still had some leftovers from winning the other poker matches at the party, in addition to a work bonus, and he knew that he still needed to repay you those favours even if they weren’t being held against him.
“They’re so freaking gorgeous,” you fawned, inspecting each heel like a jeweller would to their collection, “I can’t tell if I want to hit you or jump on you in happiness. I love them so much.”
“Well, I’m glad.”
“Oh my gosh, can you help me put them on? Pretty please?”
“Uh—yeah, ‘course.”
You gripped the edges of the dresser, slightly sitting on the surface as Wonwoo squatted down to your bare feet. He collected the first ivory heel and loosened the anklet buckle, proceeding to help slide the shoe on until it was fit perfectly. As he busied himself with loosening the buckle to the other heel, Wonwoo felt the ghost of your fingertips brush through his hair. In a spilt second, he froze, staring up at you, who was grinning back in utmost beauty.
“Just fixing your hair a little,” you stated innocently.
Wonwoo readjusted his glasses, nodding. “O-Okay.”
The action hadn’t felt that innocent, and as Wonwoo swallowed tight and continued sliding your ankle through the heel, he was overwhelmed with the most blaring, vivid, heart-hammering thoughts of smoothing his hands along each your soft thighs, pinning up the slippery silk to your olive-green dress, tugging aside your thin panties, burying his face and tongue so hot and heavy into your—
“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes!”
“Fuck,” you groaned, lolling your head back while Wonwoo finished settling the heel onto your foot, “just in case you didn’t connect the dots, that means we need to get downstairs.”
He returned to height, straightening out the sleeves to his suit jacket. For some reason, there was such an intense disappointment burning in his chest, as though his carnal thoughts were not just thoughts but an actual intent to pleasure you—which was completely ludacris given your friendship and the fact your boyfriend was probably downstairs—that had now been ripped away from him by the shrill pitch of your mother’s beckoning voice.
“Should I take the box—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
You grabbed onto his hand, tugging him toward the staircase.
“C’mon. Let’s get this shit over with.”
And Wonwoo followed, though he couldn’t help but note how you carefully dropped his hand upon rounding the corner into the kitchen, where Seokmin and Mingyu were standing about.
“Hey!” Seokmin exclaimed, pointing toward him. “Wonwoo!”
Expectantly, Seokmin looked like he belonged in a suit. That dark cherry red colour was rather fitting and only served to amplify the glow of his indestructible enthusiasm. Wonwoo awkwardly sauntered over to them, playing with the threads in his pockets.
Mingyu’s suit was more charcoal in tone, with his hair expertly gelled and combed. He mirrored a suave movie star as he leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping from his partly-filled wine glass.
“Uh, hey guys.”
You were hovering at the stove alongside your mother, talking in a hushed manner, while she stirred a large and bubbling pot of aromatic sauce, smelling like rosemary and perhaps cooked off vodka or some other alcohol. There was food everywhere—warm bread plates and fresh salad bowls and artistically painted casserole dishes covered by tinfoil. A window had been cracked open to help alleviate the heat swarming the kitchen, which Wonwoo could feel a little too uncomfortably in the air.
Seokmin grabbed at a couple crackers and cubed cheese organized onto a charcuterie board behind him.
“Don’t you clean up well?” He complimented with a big grin.
Wonwoo shook his head. “Not that well.”
“Hey—” Seokmin suddenly grabbed onto Wonwoo’s shoulder and pointed a finger at him, “—you’re here, alright? That’s an honour.”
Mingyu brushed the cracker crumbs off Seokmin’s suit.
“Don’t snack too much. She hates when you can’t eat.”
“Uh—I made this stupid board. I get to eat from it whenever I want. I’ll be fine, anyway. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Mingyu stopped tidying Seokmin’s suit, instead grabbing his wine glass off the countertop, sighing aloud, “that was a stupid idea…”
From the dreariness to his words and the slouch pulling down his shoulders, Mingyu didn’t seem to be all that excited or even half as chipper as Seokmin, though Wonwoo suspected that he knew the dinner parties to be a complete trainwreck. If Mingyu could hardly stomach a night with your parents despite all the stunning food and drink, then Wonwoo had no idea as to how he’d survive.
“So, um…” Seokmin lowered his voice, tipping his head close to Mingyu’s ear, “should we give him the rulebook?”
“Rulebook?” Wonwoo echoed.
“Uh,” Mingyu sipped quickly from his wine, “yeah, guess we can do that. Not in here, though. Let Her talk to her mom.”
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” Seokmin smiled, flashing a sly wink at Mingyu. “Hey, we’re gonna give Wonwoo a quick tour, alright!” He then called, his hand wrapping around the boy’s bicep, already beginning to tug him toward the hallway. “It won’t take too long; we’ll just show the bottom floor! Be back in a few!”
“Oh, uh, I guess that’s fine,” your mother replied while grabbing onto the pot handles with two tea towels, moving the sauce from the element, “but please do be quick! And, Seokmin—do you mind fetching the hubby from his office after you’re done?”
“I can do that, for sure,” he answered, smiling bright.
“Thank you, dear. I appreciate you so much.”
He was escorted out the muggy kitchen and down the corridor, flanked by Mingyu and Seokmin until they reached the living area where the piano music had been coming from.
Before he could issue even one question, Wonwoo was pressed down onto the red, very large-cushioned couch. Seokmin sat on the marble coffee table while Mingyu fixed himself onto the arm of a sturdy leather chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. Neither boy spoke for a moment and Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel a bit frightened as he listened to the elegant, soft piano tune fill the space.
“So… what’s the rulebook?”
“Well, it’s not an actual rulebook,” Seokmin corrected, “that was just for dramatics, allure, etcetera. But that’s what we call it.”
“We? You and Mingyu, you mean.”
Shifting in his place, Seokmin nodded, and his voice dropped an octave lower, "play the game long enough, you learn the rules.” 
Mingyu’s chuckle dampened into the wine glass. “And there a lot of fuckin’ rules, that’s for damn sure,” he said with a scary smirk.
“But—we’ll just give you the crash course for now, as to lessen the overwhelmingness of what it takes to endure a dinner party.”
“Um, does Her know—”
“There are three principal rules; I’ll give them to you quick, so listen good,” Seokmin interrupted, leaning further into Wonwoo’s space, speaking quietly. “Rule one: do whatever the mom says, even if she doesn’t say it directly, or scarcely alludes to it. Makes everything ten times smoother, and gets her to like you, which is very important. Rule two: there is a guaranteed argument between Her’s mom and Her every fucking time—you stay out of it—never pick sides.
If you do get roped into whatever petty, passive-aggressive shame-fest they rake up, insert a compliment. Example: this steak is so tender and perfectly cooked! FYI—we’re not eating steak, so think of your own thing—and rule three: Her is like a freshly shaken can of carbonated soda and she can explode at any given moment. As her dear friends, and boyfriend, we have to make sure that doesn’t happen or else you’ll want to axe yourself.”
Wonwoo furrowed his brow heavily at Seokmin, noting a few crumbs left on his cherry suit from the cheese and crackers.
“How do we stop that?” He asked genuinely.
Mingyu proceeded to lower the nearly emptied wine glass against his knee, clearing his throat, “you don’t stop it.”
“But I thought—”
“It happens every time, without fail,” Seokmin answered, shaking his head, “but you can prolong it. You know, like cracking open the cap and letting out some air instead of the bottle fizzling into obliteration right away. The explosion’s not as big then. It’s easy. You just keep the conversation pushing. Don’t leave any space for bickering. Mingyu sometimes takes Her downstairs, or outside. To be fair, you don’t really have to worry about the last part.”
“Yeah,” Mingyu huffed, hardly amused, “lucky you, huh?”
“What happens if that fails?” Wonwoo asked.
Seokmin leaned back, tipping his head to the side. “Last year Her’s mom spent six hours braising these honey-garlic barbeque ribs with asparagus and stuffed potatoes. Guess where the food ended up by the end of the night? Because it wasn’t my starving mouth.”
“I don’t think I want to know,” Wonwoo sighed.
Bobbing his head approvingly, Seokmin smiled. “Exactly.”
“If these dinners are always such a mess, why do they keep happening? I mean, it doesn’t seem like anybody enjoys them.”
Fiddling with the thick folded cuff of his dress shirt, Seokmin shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. They used to a be a lot bigger in the past. Way more relatives and family friends. Just get-together's with a lot of food and drink and intoxicatedness. A way to maintain community and repore or something. But it’s shrunk down over the years. I still can’t tell if that makes it better or worse.”
Mingyu rubbed tiresomely down his neck, somewhat wincing as he massaged a sore spot. “It definitely makes it worse.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Seokmin agreed, “it puts more pressure on the rest of us… anyway, I should grab ‘the hubby’ as per request.”
Snickering, Mingyu flashed his pointed canine teeth and raised the wine back to his lips. “Makes your skin crawl, doesn’t it?”
With an uneased laugh, Seokmin smirked. “Every time.”
As the boy disappeared down a dark hallway to the right of the large living area, Wonwoo assumed he and Mingyu might return to the kitchen as it was probably not the best idea—leaving you alone for too long with your nitpicking mother—but when Wonwoo began lifting himself from the plump couch cushions he was sunken into, Mingyu’s hand touched at his shoulder to stop him.
In an instant, trepidation surged throughout his body.
Wonwoo’s face had most certainly gone white, though the lighting in the living room was too warm and orangey to tell.
“I just wanna talk to you about something real quick,” Mingyu said, stretching forward to leave his empty glass on the marbled table.
“Oh—um, okay.”
When he thought about the past few months, Wonwoo realized he hadn’t even spoke to Mingyu since the blowout party back in June. So much had happened since then, good and bad. Wonwoo could only suspect that he was about to hear the worst talking-to in his life, though he attempted to feign the terror for casualness.
Mingyu swooped a hand behind his ear, brushing back his perfectly styled hair, and looked to Wonwoo almost… forgivingly?
“I know you and I haven’t seen each other since the party at Seungcheol’s. I know some shit went down between you and Her and that it really blew up and you guys weren’t talking for a bit. She said, like, it was something to do with the book she’s writing and you were having differences about the direction and it kinda exploded.”
Wonwoo prayed it was imperceptible, the gigantic breath of relief he fought to exhale without too much giveaway, knowing that you hadn’t told Mingyu the truth to the argument. He was happy about your work-around, though he didn’t know if it was… morally right… that you opted not to tell your boyfriend—the person you supposedly trusted most—one of your biggest miseries.
“Oh… yeah,” Wonwoo exhaled, “it got pretty ugly.”
Mingyu nodded. “I honestly don’t even know if she’s still working on it. She doesn’t tell me about it. I don’t get why it’s so fuckin’ important to her but… I digress. Anyway, like Seokmin said, you’re here now, so you two obviously hashed it out. She seems to really appreciate you as a friend. And—hey—it helps takes some of the weight off my shoulders, y’know? Girl’s a fuckin’ handful sometimes.”
Wonwoo swallowed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation and the alcohol he was beginning to smell from the boy’s clothes. He understood the situation was stressful for Mingyu, that he might be teetering between things absentmindedly, yet he nonetheless questioned what Mingyu’s intentions even were with you.
“Well, uh… I really enjoy spending time with her, too,” he murmured as Mingyu reclaimed his emptied wine glass.
There was a strong grip on his shoulder, shaking it.
“You’re a good person, man. Seriously.”
Using Wonwoo as a support crutch, Mingyu heaved onto his feet, then proceeded to straighten out his charcoal suit jacket.
“M’kay, I’m going back to the kitchen. We’re probably gonna eat soon so don’t spend too long losing your head out here.”
“Yeah, got it.”
He watched Mingyu amble down the long and subtly aglow corridor, carrying his wine glass low at the hip until reaching the threshold to the kitchen. You had suddenly popped out, stumbling into him with a smile and some hushed words that were impossible to comprehend as Wonwoo sat alone, listening to the jazzy piano tunes from the record player. After nipping a quick kiss against your boyfriend’s lips, you entered the living room with a crooked head.
“What’chya doing out here?” You inquired, pressing a hand against the grand, wooden frame adorning the entry way.
Wonwoo grabbed at his knees while pulling himself up.
“Just a quick pep talk. And a fly-by of some rules.”
“Oh,” you chuckled, “Seokmin’s crash course, was it?”
“Yeah.”
“Sometimes I call him John Green just to piss him off.”
Wonwoo smiled, stepping around the marble coffee table. “I feel like that might serve to stroke Seokmin’s ego above all.”
“No, it starts to irritate him after a while. You should know at this point I can piss off just about anybody. Even Seokmin. It’s a talent. Though I don’t think it’s enough for me anymore. I want to start pushing people to rock bottom or I haven’t done enough.”
There was a teasing sparkle in your eye as Wonwoo approached you. He could smell all that deliciously cooked food from down the corridor and his stomach was certainly responding to it.
“I can get you there,” Wonwoo said. “Don’t stress.”
“Forgot to fix my makeup. Want to come with me?”
He agreed, and you began to guide him across the living room, swathed in all its expensive mahogany fabrics, obtuse looking vases, and jade-green lamp shades that reminded him of late-night study sessions at the campus library. You pulled him past a wide shelf that was organized with much smaller, glazed sculptures that caught his attention as they lowly glimmered in the mellow light.
“Woah,” he gripped at your wrist, stopping your swift walk, “someone in your family loves ceramics, I’m guessing?”
You ricocheted back into his side, then taking a few seconds to adjust some invisible flaws in your hair before responding.
“That’s just some pottery I did when I was younger.”
Wonwoo squinted at you. “Really?”
“Mmhm.”
“You took classes?”
Shrugging, you muttered a simple, “yeah.”
“Is that why you were so interested in that vase back at my apartment?” When you continued to stare at him blankly, Wonwoo cleared his throat and reiterated, “the red one? It was really round at the bottom, but the stem was tall and skinny. You really liked it.”
“Oh—yeah—sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve last been to your apartment. I don’t know if that’s why I liked it. Probably.”
He smiled at you inquisitively. “I’m surprised you never mentioned that to me, considering my landlord is a ceramics teacher. I mean, as you know.”
Your eyes seemed reminiscent and adrift, glancing from sculpture to sculpture—lopsided teapots, poorly shaped toadstools, crooked little spoons—there were a plethora of your small creations laid across the shelf, gathering dust and appearing untended to.
Wonwoo cleared his throat, hands buried in his pockets. “I just didn’t peg you as someone who liked getting their hands dirty. I suppose it’s different when you’re younger, though.”
Pursing your lip, you nodded. “Things are always different when you’re young. My mom used to use the spoons I made to scoop sugar into her coffees. But she doesn’t drink coffee anymore. Just wine.”
“Well, it’s nice she appreciated your effort.”
There was a beat of silence. Your expression twitched.
“I had to beg to take those classes, y’know?”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at you. “How come?”
Your arms folded, and you shrugged again. “My parents honestly saw it as a distraction. I mean, why let your daughter play with some clay when she can hardly pass her math tests. But there was this super artsy girl in our recreational class who always made the best teacups from the clay, and she would paint them so beautifully… I wanted to be able to do what she did. So I asked my parents again and again and again until they fucking gave up and found a pottery class to enroll me in. Although, I'm pretty sure they supposed I would drop it sooner or later. Like it was just an itch I had to scratch. It was in this little art shop that looked similar to your landlord's.”
He smiled at you. “Was your instructor a polish lady?”
“No, she was not polish,” your head shook as you swept some dust from the black shelf, rubbing your fingers together, “I remember that much, but I don’t remember her name. It was after a flower, though. Something too complicated for my eleven-year-old brain to retain.”
“Probably Chrysanthemum or some shit,” Wonwoo muttered.
You laughed at his comment, “probably.”
“… Well, you must have liked it. You made so much stuff.”
“Oh, I loved it. I mean, looking at some of this stuff now, it’s not that great. But I didn’t really care that much at the time.”
“Considering you were a child, it’s pretty damn good.”
Wonwoo felt your elbow dig shallowly into his ribs. “Don’t try to flatter eleven-year-old me,” you warned him. “If you would have seen the other girl’s creations, mine would turn from pretty damn good to: well, at least she tried something new!”
“No,” Wonwoo chuckled, “that’s dumb.”
“Honestly, there was so much stuff that I made. More than half of it’s not even on this shelf. There wouldn’t be enough space.”
“Shit. What happened to it?”
You pinched at the olive fabric of your dress, massaging the silk between your fingertips for a moment while examining each and every sculpture moulded and grooved by your tiny childhood hands.
“My favourite part was destroying it,” you answered.
Wonwoo narrowed his brow, “I don’t think I could do that to something I spent so much effort and time creating.”
“Yeah, and that’s all good and fine,” you reasoned, adjusting your shoulders, “but I just didn’t see it like that, I guess...”
Intrigued, Wonwoo smiled at you. “How did you see it, then?”
For a moment, you thought, staring off into space.
 “Well, I just don’t understand why people are so afraid of things being ephemeral. When you’re an artist, or a writer, or a musician, I feel like you want to make something that will last forever, transcend eras, touch people for a lifetime, or, I don’t know—you want it to stay preserved, like when they embalm things. But I feel like there’s just as much worth and importance to the things that hardly last at all. I feel like there’s so much freedom and self-assurance in building something up and then crushing it down.
That’s what I loved about it. When the clay would explode from between my fingers and stick into the lines of my palms because I was squeezing it so hard—it just felt good. Like it was supposed to happen. Like I was letting go. It doesn’t have to mean I… failed. It doesn’t have to mean I’m good at it either… I guess I just want to enjoy things without the burden of having to prove I deserve to enjoy them. Why can't I just do it? Why can't it just be between me and myself, you know? Why can't I decide what to take from it?"
Wonwoo nodded at you.
Contrarily, that was the opposite to his own beliefs surrounding his art, and maybe even his life. Wonwoo could never let things go, nor was he sure when that quality had permanently wedged its way into his human nature. For some reason, Wonwoo saw the past memory where his older brother had scampered away into the bushes surrounding the public pool during that game of Lifeguard all those hot summers ago, leaving an adolescent Wonwoo to get dragged from the water and thrown onto the sun-scorched concrete as everyone watched.
He saw the fuzzy, white glow that beamed from his laptop left open in the darkness, sitting still with all those pages he wrote, and yet to be filled with the words that he could never string together.
Unlike you, Wonwoo had never figured out the mechanism to letting things go. Instead, he held everything—between his fingers, across his shoulders, on his tongue, under his skin, deep inside his chest. Hence, for a split second, he was incredibly jealous that it seemed you could live without weight. You were just a breeze.
And just like everyone else, you were still discovering yourself.
“Anyway. That’s my take on it."
"Why'd you stop? This seemed like such a big part of you."
You flicked your eyes around, shrugging. "Things got in the way."
Wonwoo wondered what things, though he didn't ask.
"But we should hurry. Dinner will be ready soon and my mom will flip if we’re not at the table in time. She interprets it as ‘we don’t care’ and that will open a can of worms nobody wants to see.”
You sighed, then grabbing onto Wonwoo’s arm to pull him down another mysterious, long corridor in your maze of a house.
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“Oh, Mingyu, that’s brilliant! I’m so glad the interview went well! I had him slip in a good word for you, too. But I’m sure you put the nail in the coffin. Walking straight into a promotion, you know, that’s something so hard to come by. You’ll settle just perfectly.”
“Yeah, thanks. To you as well. That word went a long way.”
“Making the right connections is certainly key.”
“It is. But I’m just lucky, is all. Your daughter is the real key. She’s given me so much—you all have—I just wanna let you know how grateful I am. Seriously. You’re some of the kindest people.”
“Shush! Before I give you a lash from this towel. It’s been sitting under the potato tray so it’s nice and hot… I’m so excited for your future together. A real power-couple! That’s for sure.”
“Hm. Yeah.”
Wonwoo was pressed flush to the wall just outside the kitchen, simultaneously holding his breath while listening to the conversation between your mother and Mingyu as everyone was presumably sat around the dressed table. Your fingers were hurriedly ruffling out some wrinkles in his tie while you repeatedly cursed at both your tardiness, and he simply let you do what you pleased. After a half-second adjustment made to his collar, you wasted not an instant more—Wonwoo was suddenly thrust into the warm kitchen with you impatiently in tow.
As expected, everyone was sat and waiting. Even your father had been at last pulled from his study, and he was positioned at the head of the long dinner table while twiddling a fork around in his fingers.
Your mother had an elbow propped on Mingyu’s chair.
She was the only one standing.
“Quick,” you whispered into Wonwoo’s ear, practically shoving him down into the empty seat beside Seokmin, “sit there.”
Upon the nervous side-eye that his friend shot at Wonwoo, he suspected that he may have just wriggled his way into an unfortunate ticket straight to hell. You held up the flowy, billowing silk of your olive dress while making your way to the seat across from him and beside a very unenthused-looking Mingyu, who was evidently chewing on his inner cheek. Wonwoo caught Mingyu’s stare for no less than a second, and there was nearly enough electricity in the glance to make a crackle.
A few more dishes had been squeezed onto the table since he was last in the kitchen. Despite the fact there was only six people eating, nearly every corner and crevice of the table was occupied. Your mother had cooked enough to feed an entire party, unless she was planning on sending everyone home with tupperwares full of leftovers.
“Looks super delicious,” Seokmin complimented.
Mingyu nodded in agreement. “Smells even better.”
Wonwoo didn’t know if he was also supposed to throw out some off-the-tongue compliment and keep the train chugging. The atmosphere was just so heavy—everything felt like an extreme effort—he could hardly breathe without the sensation of his lungs itching, as though they were adorned in cobwebs. Unconsciously, he’d started picking at his thumb, his appetite disappearing by the second in place of dread.
“You boys are so lovely, thank you,” your mother commented, straightening out the orange tea towel in her hand while continuing to lean into the side of Mingyu’s chair. “This was all a labour of love.”
Seokmin flashed a picturesque smile that Wonwoo had seen many times before. “Well, I’m feeling the love. That’s for sure. Are we ready to dig in all?” Still, there was a bit of anxious haste in his actions. 
“One moment, first,” your mother stated, pausing Seokmin in his reach for a large casserole spoon. Wonwoo clasped his hands together even tighter as she said, “we’re going to wait a few minutes more.”
You had pulled out your chair, but you didn’t sit.
“Mom, I was just fixing my makeup. That’s what you asked me to do. There’s no reason to make everyone keep waiting.” You removed the towel from her hand and laced it through the oven handlebar. “Just take a seat, okay? I’ll start making everyone’s plates if they pass them.”
She smiled at you. “Well, that’s a very sweet gesture. But it doesn’t take long to fix an unstuck lash or change a lipstick. You’ve got yourself a makeup chair. You should know better than anyone, my love.”
Wonwoo hated this—he hated the way your mother’s criticizing was buttered up nice with a practiced, insincere smile and a crooning voice. He hated the way Mingyu was pushing fingers against the knot in his stiff eyebrow like something horrible was about to happen. He hated the way your father was uncomfortably mute, sitting only with a pursed lip and folded arms in complete disinterest, like he’d rather be anywhere else. He hated that Seokmin was continuing to beam his signature-watt smile even though the air was dense enough to crush everyone flat.
You picked up Mingyu’s plate, presumably because it was the closest to you, and started slopping some hot casserole onto it. Every movement was autopilot, thoughtless, as the steam from the breached casserole rolled up into the air and shrouded you.
“I was only trying to make it perfect,” you muttered.
“Make it what?” Your mother questioned, staring you down.
“Perfe—”
“Stop mumbling, my love. I can’t hear you.”
Mingyu’s messy plate was collapsed back onto its placemat with a very loud thud, and you looked to your mother with utmost annoyance.
“I was trying to make it per-fect.”
She quirked her head. “And you needed Wonwoo to do that?”
Just as he ruminated—the universe had a fearsome penchant for whirlpooling him into the centre of everything and anything horrible, like his name was written in the water. Though, Wonwoo couldn’t say he was expecting to survive the dinner party unscathed. He tried to remember the quick spiel of rules Seokmin had relayed to him—was it better to get involved or just shut the fuck up? Wasn’t Mingyu supposed to do something? Wasn’t Seokmin supposed to keep the conversation pushing?
“Mom, please, just—I was showing him around, okay? He’s the guest. He’s never been over before. Wonwoo has nothing to do with us being a few minutes late to dinner. So just leave him be.” You removed the tinfoil from another bowl. Grabbing a wooden spoon, you started slapping creamy mashed potatoes onto Mingyu’s plate. “Trying to make something out of nothing… why can’t we just eat for once?”
“Honey, we could be eating, but you’re choosing to sulk.”
“I’m not sulking! I’m trying to help!”
“No, no, no. Mingyu’s plate looks like an animal that got squashed by a car. If you can’t even properly fix your future husband a nice-looking plate of food without pooling all your anger into it, then there’s an issue, there.” She shook her head. “A very big issue.”
Wonwoo could see your eyes burning.
Mingyu had then sighed, removing the wooden spoon that was clenched up in your hand like a weapon and slipping it back into the mashed potato bowl. The boy tugged a few times at your wrist, keeping his tired voice as soft as possible while imploring you to sit down.
“It’s alright, everything’s fine,” he said, probably to soothe himself more than anything, “all the food goes straight into my mouth, anyway. Same goes for all of us. Sit down, Her, alright? Please?”
“No,” you snapped your wrist free, “I don’t want to sit.”
In a desperate hope to experience some sort of consolidation amongst the tension, Wonwoo angled a glance toward Seokmin. When his friend wouldn’t look back and merely opted to keep biting his blistering lip, Wonwoo quite literally felt a meteor sink into his stomach.
Slicking a hand along his shiny hair, Mingyu sighed even deeper. “Please just sit. You know what’ll happen. Please.”
Again stepping away from Mingyu’s attempted touch, you began to shout, and Wonwoo’s breath froze as your voice echoed around the kitchen in a hauntingly similar manner to the quarrel at his apartment.
“I already said no!”
From the head of the table, your father pushed out his chair. His voice was oddly gruff when he spoke, like he hadn’t said a word all day and his throat was hoarse by consequence.
“Don’t shout,” was all he warned.
Your mother shook her head. “She will raise her voice when she doesn’t get what she wants.”
Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel the cut from her disappointed eyes even though she wasn’t even looking at him.
“I’m raising my voice because you’re not listening! You haven’t listened to me all fucking day! Oh my god! It’s eating me alive!”
In an instant, Mingyu was to his feet, almost trying to court you into the corner by the open window with his hands that you battered away. Wonwoo gripped onto his knees. He couldn’t choke out a damn word and Seokmin seemed to have become stiller than stone.
“Calm down,” Mingyu urged, “take some breaths.”
“You still won’t listen!”
“I’ll listen later, I promise.”
“Mingyu, do you even hear yourself?!”
“Just—you’re blowing this out of proportion again.”
“Stop trying to control me!”
“Calm down and—hey!”
With a frustrated groan, you squirmed away from Mingyu and rushed back to the dinner table where your mother continued to stare at you with such conflict in her expression, as though it was mentally taxing her to compute how such a seemingly perfect, established daughter could simultaneously appear so unraveled and incomplete before her. For a second, Wonwoo thought you might take the mashed potatoes or casserole and just completely drench the wall in their remnants.
But you didn’t do anything. Instead, you looked across the organized table—the vibrant food, sparkling drinking glasses, and expensive, unpopped bottles of alcohol—at Wonwoo, who had admittedly felt pretty useless and paralyzed throughout the ordeal. You looked straight into his eyes and he could see that you were almost physically begging him for an out. And, if he could see himself as an outsider, it was probably the same damn look he was giving you.
Wonwoo hadn’t even noticed the silence in the room.
Your father coughed, retrieving his utensils, ready to sweep the argument and very obvious hostility under the rug—put a small little bandage on a gigantic wound that had been festering for years.
“Same dance every time. Come sit, Mingyu. Let’s just eat.”
That would be nice, if Wonwoo had any appetite.
That would be nice if he wasn’t pushing out his chair, getting up from the table, keeping his gaze level and connected with yours, watching you swallow hard, hold back your tears, anxiously flex your fingers in a momentary contemplation and then—unprompted—run. Just run.
Wonwoo fled into the corridor with you right behind him, your hands kneading against his lower back as he threw open the door to the quiet, dimly lit front porch where that damp and black September night was ready to breathe him in and whisk you two away. He heard the very confused shouting from the kitchen, but there wasn’t any time to waste.
Wonwoo flew down the wood steps and splashed through a shallow puddle reflecting the moonlight, running toward the long street drifted in thinly strewn mist. He continued to run, only stopping for a brief moment to turn around and observe you quickly fling off your heels before scooping them up while everyone crowded onto the porch, yelling.
In your bare feet and a smile so pearlescent, you sprinted straight into Wonwoo’s outstretched arms, giggling aloud while he gripped your body firm and spun you in a circle that saw your dress twirl like a ribbon and your legs brush through the alive air.
Mingyu began stalking down the driveway, visibly angry, his face twisted into a snarl that might see Wonwoo getting split in his nose.
“Fuck, fuck!” You cursed, squeezing your fingers into his. He was suddenly being tugged down the empty, dark street, as though there was some invisible curtain for you to magically disappear behind. “Let’s go!”
Wonwoo didn’t mind one bit. Indefinitely, he would let you tug him over a cliff if it meant you two could fall together. The street was long and wet but the air was so fresh. Every breath he took was pure.
He didn’t know where you were going.
But he didn’t need to.
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“Be careful. I don’t want you to step on something sharp.”
“I think I already did.”
Wonwoo pulled tight on your warm hand, stopping you.
“Seriously? Let me look.”
You made a slight huffing noise while sitting down on a large boulder, not caring that the surface was sandy and damp, forming a dark imprint against your olive dress. Wonwoo squatted down, looking at the dirty underside to one bare foot, and then the other, realizing there weren’t any cuts. He then used the cuff to his suit jacket, brushing off the small pieces of grit stuck into the skin in case he missed anything.
In all honesty, Wonwoo had no idea where you two were. After running far down the fancy Hillcrest Street until your family house was completely obscured into mist and memory, you led Wonwoo off onto a separate footpath by the treeline. Your fingers were slotted into each other’s. This was the first time Wonwoo had let go of your hand since running away, and the chilled air felt like prickles on his palm.
Removing the phone from his pocket to shine a light, he wasn’t at all surprised to see the missed calls and texts that had collected minute by minute from Seokmin earlier. You didn’t even have your phone. The only thing you carried was the ivory heels that Wonwoo gifted you at the start of the evening, which were still clutched in your hand.
“No blood. No lacerations. Just dirt,” Wonwoo said. “If you did cut yourself, you might not even feel it with all that adrenaline.”
You smiled at him. “Your phone a graveyard of Seokmin texts?”
He smirked, flicking through them all. “Precisely, yeah.”
Leaning backward on the boulder, you at last let go of the heels and stretched your arms out behind you, staring up at the moonlight patterning between the forest trees, their branches more barren as the autumn leaves came loose in the breeze. They fell down one by one, rustling softly whenever they hit the ground. He heard you sigh.
“Everyone there can go fuck themselves.”
Putting his phone away, Wonwoo smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“That line’s a classic, coming from you.”
He attempted to sit beside you on the boulder, ignoring how uneven and rough it felt under his butt. Wherever you were along the footpath, it was perfectly hushed, almost felt hidden. The tree branches above him had framed the moon akin to a picture—except, he felt like he was the one painted, and that it was the moon who was watching him.
“I’m sorry.”
Wonwoo began to look at you rather than the night sky.
“Don’t apologize.”
You stared at him deeply, licking your lips and shaking your head. His eyes were now well adjusted to the scarce light. Just the silver through the trees was enough to read and inspect your pretty face.
“It went off the rails.”
He shrugged, staring back. “It seemed like it needed to.”
“I made you part of it.”
“I made myself part of it.”
“But, I mean—just—if you… if you never…”
Wonwoo raised his eyebrow. “If I never what? Met you?”
Puffing out a long breath, you looked down, picking at something on the boulder with a manicured nail. “… Yeah.”
“No,” Wonwoo was firm to correct, continuing to stare at you intensely even if you couldn’t face him in the turmoil of processing all the emotion and chaos, “you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”
You lolled out your tongue, smiling and sheepish. “Blah.”
He laughed, “I mean it.”
Sighing again, you glanced back at Wonwoo, your eyes flickering along his every detail in the dewy night. Your hand reached out to his collar, making another brief, probably unnecessary adjustment to it before sliding the gentle fingers down his chest. Wonwoo’s mouth ran disgustingly dry in that moment, to the point that he was relieved when you removed your hand because you might have felt how fast his heart was beating and thought him to be quite pathetic.
Tightly swallowing, he brushed an itch off his nose and opened his mouth with a question, his gaze catching yours. Although, at the last second, he weened himself from speaking when the doubt found and froze him. A breeze tickled through his hair and Wonwoo shivered.
Your brow furrowed.
“What?” You urged him.
Wonwoo chuckled. “Fuck. Nothing.”
“Not nothing. Please. What is it?”
You were leaning closer into him, enthralling him with those earnest, gleaming eyes. He swore the nighttime wind was pushing your sweet, blossomy scent against him—was pushing you against him—because now your thigh was squished right beside his and your shoulders were warm together. Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat.
“Who are you?” He paused, but didn’t falter. “Actually?”
Your forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
Wonwoo examined every aspect of your face that he had come to know so well over the months—the face he gradually couldn’t stop thinking about, to the point you would appear in his dreams. The face he was once completely disinterested in, because you were not someone that should have any reason to be in his life, just as he had no reason to be in yours. He felt his body move closer into your inviting warmth.
In fact, you two were so close that if he moved even an inch or few forward, then his lips might find themselves pressing to yours and his hand might settle and smooth up along your thigh to your cheek. Then, it would be impossible to leave the footpath without digging into you right then and there, kissing and tasting from you everywhere.
“What’s your name?”
It sounded like an obvious, warranted question that just about anyone would ask given the opportunity. But Wonwoo had never found himself wondering it. The things he wondered about you were much different and more character-driven, yet Wonwoo had come to realize that your name was just as important and precious and intact with your identity as everything else. He almost felt like it was the very last piece of you that he hadn’t shifted into place—his last chapter in a very long, complicated, topsy-turvy, seemingly-never-ending book.
Wonwoo thought you might laugh at him.
Tell him, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” in that very smug tone of voice he’d hear from time to time while smiling hot with your secret.
Instead, however, you just stayed silent.
His hand touched with fragile softness at the edge of your face, a thumb then stroking along the space before your ear as you swallowed.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he whispered, hearing the leaves rustle above him, “it’s fine either—”
“No, one second.”
Wonwoo bit his tongue, opting to watch you lean back while digging fingers into the cleavage of your dress. From somewhere—he could only surmise—you had pulled out a thin tube with a cherry lid.
“Was that the lip stuff you put on?” He snorted.
“Lip liner. With a sticky patch on it right here. Figured I should keep it close. You know, in case a crumb managed to remove a single spec of it. Can't have my mother passing out from shame.”
“Clever thinking.”
“Give me your hand.”
Stretching out his fingers, he let his hand sit in your lap while you pulled the lid off with your teeth, then gripping his wrist and halfway leaning down to push the tip of the lip applicator against his palm. The sensation was cool and smooth. He felt each letter you traced, though he refused to let himself guess until you were done.
Under the moonlight, Wonwoo raised the calligraphed hand to his face, pushing up his glasses as he realized—at last—the complete gist of who you were. And with your name came the understanding of what you were, in fact, doing in his very meaningless life.
Wonwoo kept staring fondly at his hand. But, as he was staring, you suddenly reached forth and smeared your thumb across the neat letters until they were lost. A memory made, and then covered.
Only between you.
When Wonwoo looked to you again, he saw everything about you so clearly that it was almost shining. Every decision you made, every word you said, the way you walked and dressed and flourished so openly before crashing so hard—Wonwoo could snap all those pieces into place.
“Can I ask you something?” You said.
He blinked at you absentmindedly, too caught up in his daze.
“Wonwoo?”
“Sorry—yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
Pressing your knees together, the wind fluttered the fabric of your silky olive dress, and he could tell you were getting cold.
“When you were at my apartment, apologizing to me about our fight, that was the first and only time I ever heard you mention your ex-girlfriend.” Clicking your nervous feet, you looked over his shadowy face and the moonlight dancing in his glasses, “was she your first love?”
Crushing his hands tight into each other, Wonwoo bit his lip. “Yeah.”
Keeping your eyeline steady, you nodded. “Was she… like… what did you love about her?”
He almost couldn’t breathe. “Everything.”
You frowned. “Even the bad stuff?”
“Yeah…” he mumbled, “even the bad stuff.”
It was very quiet for a moment, with you simply sitting in reflection and staring into the dark silhouettes of the trees. He was sure you already knew the answer to your initial question, although he understood that hearing him say it was different than infinitely assuming about a past that wasn’t yours. Wonwoo had been in love before, and then heartbroken down into little fragments of himself that he spent months soullessly dusting around. And somehow, he was in love again—a new love that felt so much different but still fit him so right.
“Hm…” you hummed.
Wonwoo placed his hand on your bare back, beginning to sweep his fingers up and down, sensing your skin quiver in response.
“It’s late,” he whispered, nudging his knee into yours and warming your ear with his breath, “I know you don’t want to go home, and that’s alright. I get it. But we should figure something out before my phone battery dies, yeah?” He proceeded to grab your hand and squeeze it. “I don’t wanna leave a pretty girl like you out in the cold and wet.”
When you looked at him, you were pouting, exhaustion shining on your face like the dew in the moonlit leaves. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.” Your fingers gripped his impossibly tighter.
“Do you want to stay the night at my place?”
You snuggled your head into the crook between his jaw and shoulder, wrapping your arms around his elbow to hold him close. “Yes.”
“Well, I’ve got one call,” Wonwoo sighed, fishing out his phone and squinting against its lurid light, “better hope he fucking answers.”
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Vernon was confused to say the least, beckoned down a random street at near midnight when he could be in bed with the girl he was happily feeling up just half an hour ago, until a certain phone call ruined it. Wonwoo could tell from the manner in which his friend’s heavily furrowed brow remained creased when he opened the vanilla Camry’s back door, allowing you to slide in first with your heels in hand while Wonwoo followed. Tugging the door shut, Wonwoo could then only smile at poor, disgruntled, face-studded Vernon who was continuing to inquisitively stare him down through the rear-view mirror as though there was something smeared across his cheek or stuck in his hair.
Perhaps it was the patches of dampness and dirt on Wonwoo’s suit and your once very elegant dress, but it didn’t matter anymore.
“So… uh… dinner went well, then?” Vernon asked in a big huff after no one offered to break the silence, slightly turning his head to analyze the backseat using his busted, buzzing ceiling light.
Wonwoo and you were pressed together. Both unreceptive.
“Woah. Stop talking over each other, guys,” he joked dryly.
“Couldn’t have gone better,” Wonwoo decided to say.
“… M’kay…” Vernon replied, still perplexed but probably sensing it was best to save all the questions for later. “Music?”
Wonwoo nodded and turned off the ceiling light. “Sure.”
That was the beginning and end of the conversation.
Vernon pulled out from Hillcrest, keeping his elbow against the half-opened window during the drive, meanwhile you were allowing your heavy eyes to at last flutter shut. Leaning your head against Wonwoo’s broad shoulder, he noticed that your fingers were playing with his—you had gently grabbed his thumb and started rubbing his pigmented scar in absent circles, massaging into all the weathered years spent scratching himself until his anxiety would peddle away. The lip liner was still smudged against his palm in a cherry-tinted blur that he never wanted to wash off.
Smiling, Wonwoo let his cheek sit atop your hair, sensing the delightful breeze from Vernon's window flow into the backseat.
He was glad he went to the dinner party.
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“Here are the keys. This copper one here is for the shop. This blue one is my apartment key. Go inside and get warmed up. I’ll join you in a few, alright? Promise… be careful on the steps,” Wonwoo instructed after opening the car door, proceeding to wrap his keychain in your fingers once you had emerged into the wind and sodden air.
With the white heels strung through your arm, you nodded at him sleepily and walked up the three little stairs to the pottery shop.
After you disappeared inside, Wonwoo turned around and opened the passenger seat door, climbing back into his friend’s Camry kept stalled but running at the curb. At first, there was silence between them. They both gazed down through the illumination of the headlights washing out the empty street. Vernon then slid his hand off the steering wheel, letting it cascade through his messy black hair instead.
“Do I even wanna know what fuckin’ happened?” His friend asked, his head clunking back against the upholstered seat.
Wonwoo blinked down at his lap. He started to smile, feeling it creep along his mouth even though he knew how suspect it looked.
Then, Wonwoo chuckled.
“We ran out.”
He finally looked to Vernon, who was staring back with highly quirked eyebrows and a dropped jaw. After exchanging an incredulous glance with each other, the two boys were laughing and ripping apart the silence. Vernon crossed his arms, sunk further down in his seat.
“Never would I picture you doin’ that…” he said through a lazy grin, “runnin’ out with another dude’s girl is insane, can’t lie.”
Wonwoo rubbed a palm along his cheek, still fucking smiling. “Think he’s gonna beat my ass?”
Vernon stared at him, deadpanned in his expression. “Is that even a question, Glasses? I’d beat your ass. I don’t even have a girl.”
“I don’t care.”
“If he beats your ass?”
“Yeah.”
Suddenly, a hand was pushing against Wonwoo’s shoulder. Vernon was smirking at him hard, teething over his bottom lip.
“Damn. She’s got you by the scruff, huh?”
Wonwoo shrugged, beginning to shake his head. “You should see the way he treats her… there’s some weird ties between him and her family. I think he’s playing the long game… getting what we can while he can and then parading her around as a trophy or something. But she's miserable with him.” Running a thumb along his knuckles, Wonwoo grinned. “He can beat my ass if he wants to.”
Vernon clicked his tongue. “Well, just to float the idea, I’m s—”
“No,” quickly laughing away his friend’s questionable response, Wonwoo merely rubbed under his glasses and refused. “I’m not trying to get locked away for first degree murder. And neither are you.”
“I’m just tryin’ to say I’ve got you is all,” Vernon said with his usual nonchalance, as laid back as an ironing board, “but—you’re right. Save that for when I’m an actual drug lord. He’s not gettin’ anything from me. Not even a Flintstone gummy.”
“Well, I appreciate the favour. Sorry to interrupt.”
“Nah, I could tell it was somethin’ important,” Vernon excused, giving Wonwoo a comfortable smile, “s’not like I can’t ever get brain again. Your situation seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”
Looking back at the pottery shop and the single light within keeping everything aglow, Wonwoo wondered if you made it into his apartment okay. He was worried about leaving you on your own for too long, especially when taking into consideration the extremities of the dinner party (that hadn’t really been a dinner or a party when he thought about it). Rolling out his shoulders, he turned to Vernon again.
“She needs to eat something. I’ll order food. You want any?”
Vernon scrunched his face. “What—you’re askin’ me to come inside with you two? I’m not on real good terms with her, y’know that, right? Just ‘cause she’s fuckin’ with you doesn’t mean that for me."
“It won’t be like that.”
“How do y’know? You guys gossip about me?”
Wonwoo smiled, pushing up his glasses. “I just know.”
Vernon paused to think for a moment, his hand returned back to the steering wheel while sharp teeth pulled at the skin along his bottom lip. With just the edge to his face streaked in yellow light from the outside street lamp, it was difficult to interpret his mindset, although Wonwoo knew it was a done deal when Vernon removed the glittering keys from the ignition and the rumbling car at last went silent along the empty midnight street.
Besides, Wonwoo would pay for it all, anyway.
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Vernon quietly trailed behind Wonwoo into the apartment, the front door left unlocked and the living area bathed by the warm-coloured light fixture but absent of your presence. His friend placed the car keys onto the coffee table with an uncharacteristic softness, and Wonwoo figured that Vernon was probably still feeling uncertain about spending time with you—which made sense—the last time Vernon had spoken to you (spoken probably wasn’t an accurate word) was the confrontation at the gas station where he feared you might light his hair on fire.
Though, when Wonwoo poked open his ajar bedroom door, he found you standing near his desk, peering across the walled corkboard and all its pinned photos from his life back in South Korea.
He flicked on the light, pulling out the deep blue darkness from the air, and smiled at you.
“Everything alright?”
With your arms folded, you seemed smaller than usual. “Yeah—sorry that I came in here without permission.”
He was quick to shake his head. “No big deal—you don’t need permission.”
You were silent for a few seconds, grinning to yourself, and then gestured to one of the glossy developed photos stuck to the cork.
“That’s Bohyuk?”
Wonwoo nodded, “yeah.”
He realized you hadn’t spent much time in his room over the months that you’d known each other. For the most part, Wonwoo would always be at your apartment, or some unique location necessary to your story-telling when he was still helping with the book. At one point it would have perturbed him to see you gazing along the finer details of his room so curiously. Now, however, he welcomed it.
Stuffing hands into his pockets, Wonwoo let you observe the corkboard, watching you with a very amorous, kind smile that he hadn’t even processed until his cheeks started flaring with a heated ache.
“Wonwoo?”
“Yeah?”
“… I’m hungry.”
Unable to flatten out his smile, Wonwoo walked over to you and smoothed his hand along the side of your face, then caressing his thumb underneath your twinkling eye and against your cheekbone.
“I know,” he murmured, “I’ll order food.”
“Chinese?”
“If that’s what you want, then I’ll make it happen.”
Delighted to see your expression brighten, Wonwoo at last removed his hand from your skin. He knew he shouldn’t touch you or look so fucking pathetically in-love into your eyes, but he didn’t care.
“Do you think I can shower? I want to take all this makeup off.”
“Yeah, of course. Go for—”
Suddenly, from the living room, there was a loud bang that distinctly sounded like Vernon plowing straight into something heavy.
“What was that?” You asked, covering your mouth.
Wonwoo chuckled, “Vernon. Hey—you alright?!”
“All good!!” His friend shouted back. “Just—how ‘bout don’t keep your fuckin’ weights right beside the couch, yeah? Almost broke my fuckin’ foot!”
“Oops.” Wonwoo shrugged very unapologetically, staring into your amused eyes and giggling together. “He’s gonna eat with us… he did a big favour coming down to get us and everything, you know?”
“That’s okay,” you answered, “I just want to shower.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll give you the room. Wear whatever you want. I’ll just take the keys so I can lock up downstairs.” He was nearly on his way out, but stopped abruptly. “Should we… uh… should I at least text Seokmin and tell him you’re safe? I mean, just in case—”
“Sure,” the response was quick and muttered with little care, “I’m sure they can surmise where I am, but you can do that, too.”
“Yeah, okay… well, I’ll leave you be. Food will probably be here by the time you’re out and dried off. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get cold.”
Finally, Wonwoo clicked his bedroom door shut. Keys in hand, he re-entered the living room to find Vernon plumped down on the couch with a pillow in his lap, all spread out like he owned the damn place, texting away on his phone. Wonwoo laughed as he walked by.
“Writing out your apology letter?”
“Somethin’ like that…” his friend mumbled, clearly more focused on his pixeled screen, “I might not be gettin’ that head after all.”
“Life’s all about sacrifices,” Wonwoo sighed while opening the front door, pausing briefly to mention, “we’re getting Chinese food by the way. She didn’t care that you’re staying. Anything you want?”
Vernon smiled while keeping his eyes trained to the phone. “No way. That’s a relief… n’yeah—I like the chicken balls with the sweet and sour sauce. Pork-fried rice is good, too. I’m not picky.”
“Noted.”
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“So—wait—I have to ask, and you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but how did you become a drug dealer? Like, at what point did you even realize that was your… I don’t know… calling?”
Sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a carton of noodles in hand and a napkin splayed upon your bare lap, pointed chopsticks were being angled at Vernon from across the coffee table. He took a sip from his can of bright red soda, placing it back onto the coaster with a thud.
“Uh, fuck,” Vernon coughed, smiling subtly while beginning to pick through his own personal container of pork-fried rice, “well, I can answer it, I guess… do I get to ask a question in return?”
You grabbed the napkin, wiping off the sauce from your mouth.
“I’ll allow it.”
“Fair enough,” his friend answered.
Wonwoo had heard the story only once before during a smoke session on the apartment rooftop, though he doubted Vernon would trudge through all the details. Despite seeming like an open book who couldn't care less, there really were some sweet spots he didn’t like having prodded. Nonetheless, Wonwoo thought it was a good, earnest opening between the two of you, so he opted to stay silent while pulling the meat off his ribs with his teeth.
“Uh, I was a stubborn kid, let’s say that. Tried my hand at school but I could never get the hang of it. Could never keep a job long. My parents caught me usin’ once, weed and ecstasy, and they said if it happened again, I’m out.” Vernon fed himself another forkful of rice, taking a moment to swallow while you listened intently. “I thought I could keep it straight, but no luck. Yeah. They had no tolerance for it. I was out the next day. My mom was the most pissed, but she tries to reach out every now and then. I dunno... I feel done with ‘em, if I'm bein' honest. I’ve got somethin’ that works so I just run with it. The money speaks for itself so I can’t complain.”
As Wonwoo expected, it was the heavily watered-down version of everything that happened between Vernon and his family, however, it was enough to paint the picture. Taking a moment to slurp up some spicy noodles, you soon set the carton down and patted along your gradually swelling lips. The crumpled napkin was placed on the table.
“Yeah, I bet the money speaks for itself. You’ve got a bunch of stupidly rich university students on your roster. They go through just about everything they can get their hands on. It’s fucking insane.”
Vernon propped his elbows onto his knees, gathering more rice onto the plastic white fork while smirking at you knowingly.
“You’ve got that coke sniff, y’know?”
Wonwoo widened his eyes at Vernon, suspecting a wildfire.
But you merely shrugged, quite honest in your response.
“I know. I did it once with Mingyu, some friends, and I thought never again…” with a sigh, you massaged at your shoulder, staring off into a random spot that Wonwoo couldn’t pinpoint. “Mingyu was getting it for me at almost every party we went to. I don’t know. I thought, since he paid for it, since it’s right here, I might as well do it.”
Slipping the fork out from his mouth, Vernon grinned. “Coked-up sex is crazy. Especially when you've got the right cut. It hits.”
“Vernon,” Wonwoo immediately chirped at him while setting down his emptied container of food, his voice sounding particularly stern, like he was scolding a child for making an ignorant comment.
“What?” His friend laughed, raking a tattooed hand through his loose and shiny black hair. “It is. Feels like you’re on another planet.”
“Yeah, whatever. Just think a little before you speak, please.”
Again, Wonwoo was surprised to see your nonchalance.
“It’s okay. I know what you’re saying. I think… like… Mingyu only wanted me to have it for that reason—I’m making it sound like some non-consensual, pressured shit—it’s not,” you muttered, waving around your hand in dismissal, “I just… the thing is I don’t like how I feel afterward. But it was never enough for me to say that I didn’t want it. I liked that it would take me out of my head for a bit. My mind would stop running on overdrive.” Then, you pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “The last time I did anything like that was the party at Seungcheol’s, though.”
Whenever the party was mentioned, Wonwoo would always bite down on his lip and tightly curl his fingers. He had discussed it with you in the past, beyond the summer evening spent at your apartment with a red velvet cupcake in between you and a painful, aching hug he could still feel all the warmth and regret to.
There were long, long phone conversations. And somewhere, stuffed in his mind, was the memory of you and Mingyu behind the door as he listened to every little sound—skin hitting skin, the desperation in your voice, wood smacking the wall.
“Yeah, is what it is,” Vernon replied. He pulled a toothpick out from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “Do I get my question now?”
“Uh… sure.”
Wonwoo had almost missed you staring at him. There was a concernedness to it, but when he smiled back you seemed to breathe.
“Still think I’m a gigantic fuckin’ tool?”
Immediately, you started laughing. Wonwoo followed suit, on the brink of embarrassingly blowing out the soda he just sipped from in a big spray. He was actually quite relived that Vernon had picked a more light-hearted question rather than something intimate. His friend swirled the toothpick around with his tongue, continuing to smirk in confidence.
“Giggle away. I’m curious, is all.”
Kissing your teeth, you held Vernon’s coppery, honey eyes. “You are a tool, one-hundred percent… but, I think you know that about yourself. And, um, you’re a good friend to Wonwoo. So… I guess my opinions about you have shifted. Appearances are deceiving.”
Pleased with your candour, Vernon grabbed his drink, leaned against the recliner behind him, and nodded his head approvingly.
“That tickles my fancy well enough.”
"Don't you think you'll want to settle down eventually?" You asked.
Vernon scrunched his eyebrow. "What?"
"Like, what if you find a girl. A really nice girl who could change your perspective. Do you think you'd want to settle down?"
With a quick laugh, Vernon shook his head. "Nice girls don't use half their last pay check to buy drugs. It's business at the end of the day."
Seeming skeptical, your eyes narrowed. "Right..."
"Vernon has his mind set on very specific things," Wonwoo smiled.
Straightening out the large shirt that draped around your frame—another garment belonging to Wonwoo that you had pulled from his dresser—you glanced between each boy and smiled.
“So... now I'm curious. How did this unlikely pairing meet?”
As Vernon was busy with navigating his toothpick, Wonwoo decided to tell the story, prompting him to sit up straight and alleviate his spine from being crooked against the hard bottom of the couch.
“I was convinced into attending a little New Year’s Eve party thing by these guys I don’t talk to anymore. Spent about half an hour wandering the halls, doing aimless laps, hating every second of it, debating if I should just take off. Not like anyone would notice. Then I bump into this guy—” Wonwoo nodded at Vernon, “—who was all tattooed and pierced up with this girl all over him. She was on the kitchen counter, one hand gripping his bicep while she was laying hickies to his fucking neck from behind.”
You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Who was that?”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Vernon?”
“Uh—I don’t know if I remember, honestly. She used to buy poppers off me like every damn week so I called her Poppy. That’s not her real name, though. She’s long gone. Moved cities months ago.”
“Yeah, well, he told me I looked like a lost ghost. Asked if I wanted a swisher. I agreed for some reason, and we went out back.”
Brushing a hand down your neck, you giggled. “A lost ghost?”
Vernon nodded, folding his arms.
“Yeah. Glasses always used to have that look to him. Dead man walkin’ kinda thing. Just wanderin’ around with no purpose.”
Wonwoo hoarsely chuckled at his friend, “jeez—thanks.”
“You can’t deny it.”
“I know. But to be fair, I was fucking going through something.”
“Mmhm, that’s why I took you under my wing,” Vernon sang, his eyes swimming with their usual gold-tinted mischief, “I could just tell you needed some guidance. Gave him the swisher of eternal friendship.”
“Is that what you call it?” Wonwoo huffed sarcastically.
“I call it many different things.”
You smiled sweetly at Wonwoo while your fingers played with the long cuff on the borrowed t-shirt. “Whatever it was, I guess it turned into something pretty good... and, Vernon, I am sorry for how I acted at the gas station. There was just a lot going through my mind.”
True to his casual, untroubled nature, Vernon swung his head dismissively while letting an arm collapse across his knee, the toothpick now in his hand and being spun between his ringed fingers. “No, you’re good. Don't worry 'bout it. It was just ‘cause you care n' shit. I get that.” Quirking his expression in an endearing manner, he proceeded to flash you a solid grin. “You didn’t singe my hair off so, I’ve got no grudge.”
You laughed, “I wouldn’t have actually done anything to you.”
“Eh, it’s hard to tell, isn’t it?” Vernon answered in a smirk.
Reaching for your drink, you sipped from it and then snuggled the can between your criss-crossed legs. Wonwoo examined that very intriguing smile opening its way across your mouth like a spring blossom, wanting to know the exact moment that sparked it.
A quiet pause passed, and then you were sighing with bliss behind it—that relaxed kind of sigh when everything seemed to click.
“It’s nice hanging out with you guys…” you murmured, staring across the coffee table scattered with ripped-open sauce packets, empty cardboard containers, wood chopsticks, and unfurling napkins. “It just feels lighter… I don’t know… making friends has always been so tough for me. The right friends, I mean. Friends that actually feel like friends.”
Wonwoo pinched his lip in his teeth.
“It can take a while before you hit the right people.”
Vernon shrugged, concealing a burp that had him rubbing down his broad chest. “If we’re all friends, then we’ve gotta be the weirdest fuckin’ collaboration of people I’ve ever seen.”
You snickered into your hands while Wonwoo lounged an elbow onto the couch to help prop up his head, rolling his eyes toward Vernon.
Though, Wonwoo could easily understand what Vernon was getting at. You, a popular and high-fashion campus honorary who at first glance seemed to have very little patience for anyone but yourself, followed by the guttural and unbothered drug dealer without a care in the world, beside an anxiety-ridden hermit just trying to exist and somehow not turn to a puddle in the process. Vernon was right—it was a strange grouping of people suckled together despite their completely different paths and choices. Somewhere, somehow, though, there was a connection.
Like a fated string weaving everything into a knot.
Since Wonwoo had already ordered the Chinese food fairly late, it was quite difficult to find an ice cream place in the area that was open past midnight. Vernon and his sudden craving for cookie dough had offered the idea, and you easily caved, which led Wonwoo on a spiral of searching through his phone. Unfortunately, the only ice cream they could order was vanilla soft-serve cones from a twenty-four-hour fast-food chain which arrived to his apartment dripping. But no one really cared, and Wonwoo threw on the television for some background noise.
The conversations lasted until about two in the morning.
Vernon had not so gracefully taken up the entire couch, his face shoved into the embroidered pillow, an arm left dangling limp over the edge, and a smear of soft-serve dried to his cheek. You and Wonwoo were sitting side by side on the floor, a blanket spread around your shoulders with your knee spilled onto his lap, attempting to finish up the random movie that he couldn’t even remember playing. When the credits began rolling, it took him a moment to process that the drama flick was even over. Your head was tucked against his shoulder, eyes shut but still twitching against the dull, meek light flooding from the screen.
He placed his hand on your bare thigh, fingers stretching eager over the warm and soft skin to carefully grip it and give you a squeeze.
Then, with his lips feathering at your forehead, he mumbled your name to get you awake. Wonwoo did feel somewhat guilty about stirring you, but he’d rather you have a comfortable sleep on his bed than the living room floor. He continued to rub your thigh nice and slow, watching your eyelids flicker open and squint at him through the dark room. There was a shallow grin that you gave him, full of contentment.
“You’re all fuzzy…” you yawned, proceeding to rub at your eye.
“It’s late,” he answered quietly, almost whispering, “I think I should get you to bed. You’ll be much comfier in my room.”
“Is Vernon asleep?”
“Mmhm.”
Turning back to glance at the couch, you yawned again.
“… Oh… so, we’re going to your room?”
“Yeah… c’mon, I’ll help you up.”
Wonwoo didn’t turn on the light in his bedroom since there was already a small separation in the curtains, allowing just the right amount of moonlight through to outline everything around him in bluish-silver.
You sat down on his bed, letting your fingers travel along the sheets to feel all the slight rumples and divots, only to look up at Wonwoo with a tired smile and sincere, blinking, gorgeous eyes that felt akin to a gut punch. As much as he wanted it—needed it—Wonwoo knew that he couldn’t sleep next to you. He couldn’t trust himself. He couldn’t fathom having you so fucking close in the intimate, cocooning darkness and not being able to squeeze his cold hands along every perfect part of you.
But you weren’t making it easy.
In fact, you were making it excruciatingly hard.
“Are you not going to lie down with me?”
Wonwoo felt the twig snap in his chest. You wouldn’t stop staring up at him through those wispy eyelashes and nibbling on your lip.
“I’ve got the recliner in the living room…” he could hardly choke it out. There was so much heat in his body that he could melt.
“Why sleep there? The bed is big enough.”
His deep voice twisted into a laugh he couldn’t avoid. “Yeah, the bed’s not the issue… uh, it’s fine, though. The recliner’s nice.”
He took a step back, but then you had grabbed his wrist.
“Wonwoo,” you said his name in a tender, breathy, desperate sort of way that sent his heart shattering to his feet, your eyes glistening through the sparse light like two comets, “I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Fuck—it was all he could think—fuck, fuck, fuck.
With your fingers still wrapped to his wrist, Wonwoo pushed his hand gently against the side of your face. He was closer to you now, applying a soft pressure to angle your head up at him. You were breathing thick per every second that passed, holding his eye contact without one fracture, smiling arch. Wonwoo wanted to drink you.
Leaning into his palm, you swallowed and squeaked, “please?”
His thumb was on your chin. Right under your bottom lip.
“Fuck, you can't look at me like that…” Wonwoo rasped in a low, hushed voice that was struggling not to crack.
Truly, he meant it.
Your hand slid further along his wrist, almost tickling him.
“Ple—”
Immediately, Wonwoo pressed his thumb past your bottom lip and onto the ridge of your lower teeth, stifling that dangerous little word before it could hit his ear the wrong way and render him spineless.
“No more, okay?” He murmured, slowly sliding the digit from your warm, damp mouth, feigning obliviousness to your thighs clamping together and the manner in which your fingernails dug at his skin.
There was another moment of intense, humid silence while he wiped the wetness against the edge of your jaw.
“Seriously,” Wonwoo firmed up his voice, “no more.”
When you at last seemed compliant, nodding, Wonwoo let his hand drift from your heated-up face. You stayed in place, quiet as ever, on the edge of his bed, watching him disappear through the doorway.
As he collapsed onto the recliner and pulled the blanket once pooled on the floor over his body, Wonwoo didn’t even bother shutting his eyes or removing his glasses. Instead, he stared up at the popcorn ceiling, letting his heart thump, thump, thump and his mind wander until he naturally couldn’t fight the imminent feeling of sleep.
It certainly didn’t help that you had wandered into his dreams—dreams that he should probably keep to himself, warped fully by desire and longing.
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—END OF PART FIVE.
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anonymouscheeses · 9 months ago
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Obvious shit I noticed part 3 (spoilers for welcome to heaven)
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Look at her! "Teehee"
Also she's nervous! Foreshadowing omg 🤯
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STICKERS! Two pride stickers and a cute donut. Gives me an idea to draw Chaggie at a donut shop while everything is burning down <3 (I'll probably do it but if any artist wants to as well go ahead!)
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*CHOKES ON COFFEE* I LOVE THEM. I'M SORRY I GET SO GIDDY WHEN THEY HAVE EVEN THE SMALLEST INTERACTION BUT UGHHH I NEED MORE, IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH 🙏🙏
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KISSY! MWA! *SCREAMS INTO THE VOID*
Vivzie give me more, moar now. MOAR
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DAMN. SHE CAN THROW- or maybe it just exaggerates the perspective in this frame but still- ZAMNNN
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Cherri x Sir Pentious fans RISE UP.
I wasn't ever really a fan of it myself but I always thought it was CUTE. Like 3 seconds before this part I was already begging for them to kiss 😭
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More foreshadowing!
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AAAAAA CREEPY BIRD THINGS!!!
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Oh wait- Sera's hot and Emily's already adorable
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If heaven don't look like what this is in the show, I DONT WANT IT! (THATS A JOKE PLEASE DON'T SMITE ME)
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JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND VAGGIE!! Can I just say how much I love Vaggie's face expressions? Not just here but like all the time. She's just made to be so exaggerated, out of all of them I thought it would be Charlie who would have the most dramatic faces but Vaggie wins it for me. I JUST GIGGLE SO HARD WHEN SHE LOOKS LIKE THIS BAHAHAH
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Okay yeah. It's very obvious now. Vaggie is definitely an ex-exterminator. They don't close in on Charlie here so it's made to subtly nudge the attention to Vaggie. HOW DID THEY IMMEDIATELY NOTICE IT WAS HER THO??
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Hot-
That's it.
SHARE THAT MOTHUSSY GIRL-
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YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE GREW OUT ALL OF THAT HAIR?!? YEAH ITS BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE THEN BUT STILL AJJSJD.
But overall the design is pretty meh. I always loved the idea of short hair Vaggie and even have seen art of it but it's just yknow, alright. Reminds me of Cassandra from Tangled: the series. IM LISTENING TO ONE OF THE SONGS RIGHT NOW HELPPP
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THIS SCENE HERE! WOOOOO! SO GLAD WE KNOW WHEN AND WHERE THEY FIRST MET!! Wish we got it extended tho. And also probably push it to next episode so it would have a better impact(atleast I think thats when they'll have the duet). BUT WHATEVER SOMETHING IS BETTER THAN NOTHING! or uh whatever
Vaggie must've been a bit terrified at first. The only sinner she ever sent mercy to was a child. Then to see someone who to her is an adult sinner who just looks really human, that must be crazy. BUT THEN IF SHE WAS TOLD THAT CHARLIE WAS ACTUALLY THE PRINCESS OF HELL? HOOOO, LOCK IN AND STEAL HER. THAT'S SOME WATTPAD SHIT. Also, I wonder how long Charlie thought of redeeming sinners. It would make sense to be after meeting Vaggie, since it could have been a wake up call to the fact not all sinners are bad people. Even though Vaggie isn't a sinner technically, Charlie didn't know that at the time. But maybe Charlie was always like this but just needed to meet someone who could start her dream with her. Long rant uhhh
Haha penis 🫵
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SCRAP WHATEVER I SAID IN THE FIRST PART. THEY PROBABLY DO FUCK- OR DONT?? I DONT KNOW- ANYWAY LESBIAN SEX (BOTTOM TEXT). WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH??? SOMEONE PULL THE TRIGGER.
Lute looks like a basic asf anime gorl. Adam doesn't ever take his helmet off, or maybe he just can't. OH HE'S DOING THE GAY SIGN 💅💅 Very appropriate for what he's saying
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Mentor, apprentice. I love that Husk is just trying to help Angel grow but isn't going to force him into it if he doesn't want to.
Im not a fan of huskerdust and think they'd be better friends as I can't imagine a relationship with them at all. But it's still nice and they are supportive of eachother so that's like- yknow. Basic rules. Or something like that. (HELP. I ruined it all at the last part)
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I- girl- WHY IS SHE GROWLING?? GRR GRR RR (INSERT TWILIGHT SAGA HERE)
VAGGIE'S FACE. SENDS ME. WHO GAVE HER THESE OVERDRAMATIC EXPRESSIONS, I APPLAUD YOU RGAGAGA
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Ooo... I didnt like this part at all... Instead of making the choice she just runs off. Then because the plot demands it, Adam says nothing. Kinda whish she atleast avoided the question, maybe in some way that would require actual thinking? For a character like Vaggie, she could choose either way and it feel like it's still her. If she chose to protect Charlie's dream, she would still be perfectly loyal to her but in the act of so would reveal a secret that could harm their relationship(which does happen at the end but that's because the plot wanted it like that). If she chose to side with Adam, she'd be hurting Charlie emotionally, sure, but it would keep a secret that could make Charlie see Vaggie less than who she is to her already(atleast what Vaggie might think would happen). Imo it should've been her deciding to protect Charlie, since it would mean she's devoted to her at all times.
ANOTHER THING! IF SHE COULDN'T MAKE THE CHOICE, THAT IS SOMETHING INTERESTING TO GO INTO. Maybe it could go deeper into how Vaggie doesn't know who she is without Charlie. So when she has a choice to make, like here, she can't do it without feeling the need to ask Charlie. BUT NOOO, YA HAD TO GO WITH THIS!! Wow. That was a long ass rant. Wtf 😭
Maybe I'm a dumbass. Maybe they'll talk about that next episode, but still, atleast touch on it a bit to not seem rushed?
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Angel looking out for his kids like a mom. We always did need the motherly figure, the one closest to that being Charlie but girl needs a mother in her life too(damn, wait, I did her so dirty).
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Huh, so why does it work here then? 🤨🤨 if it was said in the contract that Valentino can do whatever he wants only in the studio, then why is this the exception? 🤨🤨
Yes I'm stupid. Why do you ask? (No genuinely what's happening here)
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OH ITS THE IMAGE! I really like Sera so far, hope we get more of her soon or in season 2.
Now that we know the context of this, yeah, that's fucking insane. And badass. WOMEN.
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HMM. THATS STRANGE. DID YOU NOT FOR ONCE THINK THERE COULD BE A POSSIBILITY SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN AN ANGEL? Okay I probably wouldn't either but I have an excuse, I'm an idiot. Some girl with a standing out outfit, with one eye, looks unusually human, right after/during the extermination... that's pretty solid ass proof. But I'm dumb so don't take anything i say seriously :D
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Imagine this. No- shit. Just-
JUST LOOK! THEY ARE SO CUTE! EVEN THOUGH CRAZY SHIT IS HAPPENING.
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*SWEATS*
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Vaggie is DESPERATE. PLEADING. That's obvious yeah, but don't mind me I had nothing to say for the last 3 images I just thought they were cool
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I mean. Slay I guess. 😍💅
Do all the exterminators look similar or is it just Lute and Vaggie? 🤨
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Even though Vaggie and Charlie may be going through this horrible thing with a hard punch in the gut, but Vaggie is always going to comfort her and I just think that's so adorable.
Also Adam looks like a chicken hah.
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Everyone fears to be like Lucifer. If they don't do bad things they believe are for the greater good and make sacrifices that put them higher than those in hell, they could themselves be fallen. It's really interesting but I don't know if it's going to be fleshed out enough with the amount of episodes left. Which also worries me about everything else that still hasn't be concluded. There's gonna be loose strings I just know it. Hopefully though they rather do that then rush everything out y'know?
I want the next episode to be mostly focused on Vaggie and Charlie's relationship and the healing of what happened. Not for the entire episode of course, it would feel drawn out if it did, but atleast address the problem for the first like I would say 10 minutes? Then the rest would focus on one or two loose threads while also having Vaggie and Charlie acting upon moving on. That's just my idea but yeah-
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teopatra · 1 year ago
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What makes you pretty? Pick a pile/card (PAC)
Teehee happy libra ♎️ season, the prettiest season
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Top left: mulatto // bottom left: justa (@justuh-IG)
Top right: crystal westbrooks // bottom right: chan (@trapezoidmouth-IG)
“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it is…”🤭
🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍
Latto🖤🤍 (top left)
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🖤keywords: glam, mixed , clean cut, dark feminine, vixen, sports illustrated
🤍I checked on Latto’s chart and her sun is 0° Capricorn and she has a lot of Sagittarius, Capricorn, and Aquarius influence. what makes you pretty off first glance is the size or shape of your bum bum lol it’s very plump and your skin and lips are soft looking. This makes people want to touch you and if you happen to attract people who are coarser with you or [TW] stalker-y then that’s why. The shade of your complexion also makes you pretty also.
🖤 You are probably considered getting work done to some part of your body or you could have already gotten work done; if not, then this is your sign. Whether the work you seek to get done to your body is cosmetic or not, you want to improve your body for your mental or physical health. You like to stay healthy and focus on beauty a lot.
🤍 you have very stern, strong, and structured features like a very nice smile, nice teeth, white teeth, or dimples. You may have a square shaped face or a heart shaped face with a small forehead or widows peak.
🖤 dark hair probably looks best on your but diff hair shades suit you and you can really pull off any color. If you like to wear your hair down it’s very feminine and gives me typical cheerleader trope with flowy or bouncy hair. If you wear your hair up it accentuates your ears, neck, and shoulders
🤍 what makes you even prettier than most not to compare but you’re a chamelon. With the theme of Lotto this is fitting because her stage name USED to be Mulatto but the term is technically derogatory, but the meaning is a mixed race person. Even tho I’ve mentioned multiple or specific races in other piles, n this group the mixing of energies makes you able to pull off multiple aesthetics. You’re definitely ambiguous and most of you are mixed, but not all of you. For those of you who are full breed you probably have a feature that isn’t likened to your race for example if you’re black you may have really fine or straight hair maybe even a very loose curl pattern. I’m even getting some of you are bald maybe you are diagnosed from alopecia (at first I said suffer from alopecia, but I changed it bc although this is a disease that is hard to deal with , I don’t want to use the word suffer bc you are so inspiring and influential to others despite the hardship you endure with this health challenge. Stay strong loves you’re very beautiful.)
🖤 what makes you pretty is your ability to control your emotions and think rationally. Being focused and goal oriented are traits that can make you prettier bc people can see that you take yourself seriously. You are able to make something out of nothing and even n the toughest situations you know what to do. Your resourcefulness makes you pretty bc it shows your wit and survival skills. You’re an innovative person in the way you maneuver thru life and you don’t rely on others to make things happen for you
🤍 what makes you pretty is how sought after you are. A lot of people demand your presence and want to be around you; most finding you to be attractive, but even if they aren’t looking to seek you romantically, a lot of them want to work with you just to have a reason to be around you. In matters of a classroom environment, others may want you to be their partner or study with them. Being around you gives others confidence and makes them feel important bc of how pretty you are. It sounds shallow only to a small minded person bc your beauty is of God’s craft. Your features are sharp yet symmetrical, making you a model of many facets.
🖤 your jaw line makes you pretty which makes me think of mercurial energy like people watch your mouth when you talk or people love your teeth and if you see people looking at your mouth during a conversation that’s why lol don’t feel awkward about it. People hang onto your every word lol you may have an accent and even tho you’re pretty you speak sternly and alot of times you tend to be sarcastic and people may find this intimidating bc they can’t tell if you’re serious or playing. they don’t know when to laugh lmao you make people feel awkward bc you have queen energy that’s like when she says jump I’m supposed to jump but idk how high to jump and I don’t want to look stupid lol. People are not afriad of you bc they feel comfortable in your energy but their afraid of how you may perceive them. People can’t help but compare themselves to you but in a good way, like if you wear a bow in your hair then when someone goes to the mall and sees sowmthing similar to what you wore like that bow they’ll get it just bc it reminds them of you and how pretty it looked when you wore it. You have that “effect”.. idk if I’m supposed to use affect or effect lol
🤍 but that’s another reason why people find you pretty bc even tho you take life seriously you don’t take YOURSELF too seriously. You’re effortlessly pretty like yea you like to dress cute and look put together, but honestly you don’t try too too hard. You’re a very simple girl but you’re about your business. It may make you sad sometimes that you may make jokes but you have dad humor so it goes over a lot of peoples heads lol. You’re especially pretty to people a lot older than you bc of your maturity and wisdom and those a lot younger than you bc you give them cougar energy even tho you’re not that old ( you could be), but to them if they were to have a crush on an “older” (than them) women you would be that gworl.
Xoxo
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Justa 💕 (bottom left)
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💕keywords: shapes, coquette, dainty, fairy, girly, (divine) feminine, pink, fresh, spring, winter
💕 pretty Justa is a libra sun and she is Indonesian and black. But what makes you pretty is your charm, wit, and feminine energy. When you’re pretty but not intimidating yet alluring n a way that draws people in bc you’re down to earth it hypnotizes people. You probably are clumsy or may move kind of fast, you’re the type to stubble or drop something when you’re walking out the door but don’t get it twisted you’re ALWAYS prepared. You are a triple threat (song, dance, AND act model as well) and that makes you pretty bc your talents are your hobbies and your favorite things so you shine.
💕 you’re just a girl (no pun intended) and this makes you even prettier bc to men you’re like a damsel in distress and you may or may not realize this but you attract the same gender as well even if those people aren’t normally attracted to their own gender, but it’s something about you like siren energy that gets people lost in your eyes. You have a seductive quality without trying but it’s the way the tone of your voice rises and falls. Your voice probably doesn’t match your face and that makes you pretty too bc it’s a shock factor and makes people hooked to your every word.
💕 you have no problem tapping into your dark feminine energy it’s giving me Xtina and old school 90s video vixens who are just hot for existing. Everyone wants to look like you but they can’t seem to do it quite like you bc of the features you possess esp if you’re mixed with multiple things and if you aren’t I’m hearing it’s your eyes, you probably have cute little eye bags not the scary dark ones lol but the plump ones like a baby that give you an innocent quality. How can you be so innocent, fresh, and young looking, yet sexy and seductive at the same time.
💕 you combat your sexiness by wearing girly girly stuff like coquette theme and you don’t show too much skin for the most part you’re actually modest but you give a little tease like an off the shoulder shirt revealing your collar bone or a deep plunge revealing your cleavage and bust line, or a skirt with a slit or cam micro mini revealing thigh (tbh you prob love short skirts but wear tights or leggings under) . What makes you pretty is that people would take your Instagram pictures to their cosmetologist, esthetician, or surgeon as reference. I’m getting even trans or boys who want to identify as women want to look like you bc you’re the epitome of pretty but not mainstream pretty. You have an exotic look that was probably too sexy for mainstream media, pop culture, and magazines. Some of you either have dark features OR the opposite like striking blonde hair and blue eyes and if not you could potentially look great with the opposite like if you have dark hair you’d look just as pretty with highlights or colored contacts.
💕 it’s almost scary the type of pretty you are bc people can’t help but stare at you to the point it’s rude but the way you look people have never witnessed before. Have you ever seen a gorgeous person n public randomly and it gave you a boost of energy or confidence like wow I’m n the same room as that person we must have sowmthing n common. What also makes you pretty are your mannerisms, if you’re a clutz while you’re rushing out the door, once you get yourself together I’m seeing you being very calm and controlled almost too controlled which is another reason they stare bc they can’t tell if you’re real even tho it’s quite obvious you aren’t a mannequin lol but you aren’t seen on your phone too much n public, when you’re alone you take lots of selfies and that makes you pretty bc of the self archives you have. You may do your own photo shoots n private for your socials and it’s like you have an arsenal. You probably wear a lot of black and or white with accents of pink or blue. You dramatize doll makeup with lash extensions or loads or mascara, lip plumper, and blush to make you seem flushed or embarrassed.
💕the mannerisms you posses that make you pretty are your ability to stand up straight and very still for long periods of time bc most likely you’re very focused on your surroundings taking n the ambience while others are taking you in as well. This gives me high priestess vibes bc you’re able to bask n the moment and be very present and understand the spiritual significance of the moment in time you’re in. People can see this wisdom and innate understanding when they look at you bc they see your gears moving.
💕 you look like a little doll but people don’t feel the urge to possess you or dominate you, men ofc would love to have you like a little girl would love to have a pretty doll on her shelf, but you have strong Yang energy or feminine energy that makes a man want to be balanced with you. You make men straighten up or fix their hair or clothes, you can make the manliest man blush or have sweaty palms and even stumble over his words bc there’s a depth to your eyes yet looking into them is almost like looking into the eyes of a porcelain doll. You’re often very hard to read and this makes you pretty bc nowadays a lot of girls can give off pick me energy and have no mystery to them. You aren’t overly mysterious but there’s more to you that meets the eye and it’s apparent that you’re talented in the arts whether it be that you’re a great vocalist, maybe even a poet or public speaker.
💕 it makes you pretty that you’re very involved whether that be n the community or taking your hobbies serious as in professionally. If you’ve considered going to art or fashion school or moving to a major city that’s known for music or fashion then do that bc it’s a part of your destiny. I’m seeing that wearing half up half down is very pretty on you. Your hair may be very straight and hard to curl I seen you have tried to curl it but it takes lots of products and afterwards your hair just feels heavy and greasy and all you wanna do is wash it and start over with a fresh flowy blowout. If you’re considering dying your natural hair maybe try weave alternatives first like a wig or tape ins. Esp if you’re into theatre and acting skits, don’t change your look too drastically bc with todays resources you can get a nice makeover without it being permanent.
💕 I’m skipping around about here n this group but back to community involvement, this makes you pretty bc it shows you’re not selfish like most pretty people are assumed to be. You don’t just have a maternal nature but you also have a leadership quality that allows people to trust you, you’re almost like an angel to people bc not only are you pretty but you’re sweet as molasses. You have a strong personality and this makes you pretty bc it shows that you know what you want and where you’re headed, you’re a one (wo)man band who doesn’t mind involving others along for the ride. You may have not been Regina George popular but you’re popular n the way that everyone knows you and they don’t mind indulging n a quick chat with you every few passings. You’re really pretty in jeans and boots. Esp winter and fall apparel like a winter American girl dollie lol
Xoxo
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Crystal 💙 (top right)
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💙 keywords: passionate, resourceful, loved, loving, gentle, flower child, bohemian
💙 she is mixed with black, Native American, Mexican, creole, and some Asian descent. She is a Pisces sun but I mistook her for a cancer. When I looked at her chart she had a LOT of fire energy which I was slightly surprised by because on her social media she doesn’t usually talk or SAY much she’s more of a re-poster.
💙 it’s pretty when you try to tan or go outside in the sun bc for some reason your face may not tan much or stay tan for long but the rest of your body including your neck stays darker than your face
💙 if your hair is big that is bold and makes you stand out even if you’re introverted or shy and you may always wonder why people talk to you when you may not feel mentally prepared to engage in conversation but your hair draws people in if you were ever wondering. The thickness or length of your hair makes people want to get a closer look bc of the contrast from your hair color and pale face. Browns and blondes can look the best on you whereas darker colors like black hair and dark browns can make you looked washed out.
💙 you may not wear a lot of makeup which makes you extremely pretty bc you probably indulge in a lot of skincare or maybe you wear makeup that looks so natural as if you’re not wearing any like a boy beat makeup look that isn’t full coverage but accentuates your natural beauty features, try to only wear mascara, lip gloss and stain, and blush. There’s almost no color match for your skin youd have to mix at least 2 or more shades to get your right skin match bc you have different undertones esp once you go out in the sun. This could be due to you being multiple ethnicities.
💙 your mouth is pretty expect people probably never see your teeth bc don’t smile with them and you could be shy about showing your teeth or being overly expressive. Having too many emotions in public can make you feel embarrassed which is cute to others bc it makes you come off as mysterious. You remind me of tangled how her hair is always in your face, your hair is like a curtain shielding and protecting you from the outside world but ofc that only makes people more curious
💙 I feel like tones of chestnut brown like Ariana grande brown hair tone or auburn and reds suit you, also maybe thinner or natural brows. Try mascara instead of lashes and if you don’t wear either mascara could elevate your natural beauty and maybe even brown eyeliner instead of black. Your hair could be prettier up and off of your shoulders and out of your face either like a messy bun/updo or a pineapple style.
💙 you look pretty when you show your legs or arms and people pay attention to your hands as well they’re very dainty and maternal as if you give good massages or people daydream of you playing n their hair 😆.. try a French manicure or a clear polish and if you don’t do polish do not bite your nails start carrying around a nail file instead and give your nails a square or almond shape. You look pretty n neutrals like browns and beiges. Gold jewelry also accentuates your beauty but necklaces instead of earrings. The type of pretty you are is you’re extremely naturally beautiful but accessories take away from that and it clashes. For the most part if you already don’t do too much n that aspect then this is confirmation.
💙 side note this isn’t about physical feature but it’s makes you more attractive that you aren’t seen around large groups unless it’s for family. I see you probably are a loner who likes to eat at restaurants alone and read or scroll on your phone and you enjoy your own company. This makes you pretty bc it gives off self assurance and that you aren’t caught up in the joneses of clout chasing and trying to be seen amongst the cool crowds, instead you walk alone and people-watch. Although you’re reserved, around the right folks you’re deff goofy and that makes you pretty bc since you’re so quiet for the most part you’re seen having fun giggling at those around you which makes you down to earth and trustworthy. Girl you’re fine asf and you prob like vintage or thrift shopping. I see a very old Hollywood when you dress up but mix and match in your daily dress like a soccer jersey that’s from the little boys section or that you tied n the back with a rubber band and some sports shorts and maybe doc margins, vans, or ballet flats. You’re so girly and cutesy, but dress like a tomboy sometimes even tho you aren’t and people know this bc you’ll carry around a dainty purse and probably rock shades when you’re out bc you have something with your eyes like astigmatism lol it reminds me of how Ariana Grande is always squinting bc she can’t see LOL that makes you pretty tho xoxo
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Chantel💟@trapezoidmouth (bottom right)
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💟 keywords: soft, dainty, warm tones, pastels, versatile, round and petite features but feminine and curvy physique, sparkly, sensual
💟 Chan is a Sagittarius sun, I’m not sure her chart details but she has a very curvy yet petite frame and a small shaped face which is typically attributed with the planet mercury.
💟 you could have a way with words and thing things that you say and or the way you say them makes people laugh. You’re witty, yet down to earth so you know how to crack a GOOD joke, even if you’re not trying to. Due to your dry humor, sacrastic tone, social ques, and emotional intelligence you have a personality and intellect that people don’t come across everyday. You’re like a fictional sitcom character with a really good script. From a pretty lady like yourself …
💟 you’re a doll to where people want to dress you. You may not know this but in the traditional old fashioned way that women would be spotted by industry talent agencies bc they wanted to see that particular person in their clothing brand or representing their label is because of look that person had. You are very editorial and a fantasy/traditional Victoria’s Secret vibes to those wanting to dress you but not in a trendy way rather a trendsetting way. For example when new Bratz would have edgy and over the top outfits that you didn’t see everyday and you’re prob the person that experiments with clothing and have always done so by putting together pieces in a cool way which breaks the mold and makes others more comfortable with being quirky in their dressing instead of waiting for mainstream media to give the “ok” with particles looks first. Just as much as people love to see you wear the most high fashion they imagine what you’d look like nude as well.
💟 I see you having a defined back or an arched back or even back dimples. If you have wide hips or love handles this makes you pretty bc it gives the child bearing appearance that makes you seem more maternal. Being more maternal means you’re caring and people can see this in your eyes as well. Your eyes could be intimidating and I feel like you don’t mske a lot of eye contact with people in person. People are not offended by this bc you give off the energy that you’re always busy doing something or too busy for the convo. Most people would find this rude, but with you people are happy to just be in your presence or even be seen within feet or you bc you’re so gorgeous.
💟 if you have an uneven skin tone or discoloration (vitiligo, tan, sun spots, freckles, hyperpigmentation) it’s very pretty and some people may try to hyper focus in on how many hues you have or compare and contrast the different shades of your skin tone. The people who get close enough to you to analyze you (as they always do you may just not notice it) try to inspect small things about you that they could remember later to help them visualize you after you leave bc people crush on you hard . People could notice when you get goosebumps and that turns them on bc that very human nature makes you feel more personified even tho to people you are a fantasy or a fictional character in the flesh
💟 Jessica rabbit, Lola bunny, and Betty boop are all vibes you remind people of due to the pure innocent nature of the feminine needing masculine energy to counterbalance.. men view them as fragile and weak to where they could overtake them or almost pick them up and take them away and even tho you may be dainty or petite, people wouldn’t dare harm you bc they assume that there are lots of strong masculine figures in your life bc your demeanor exudes that. And even if that isn’t the case, there is a masculine ancestor or spirit guide who is fighting for you on the spiritual plane to protect you. Even tho you a divine feminine, your masculine and feminine qualities are balanced.
💟 aside from your face and body frame, your limbs particularly make you pretty, it’s the way they move when you talk or walk, like water. (Tyla) you’re prettiest in clothing that accentuate your body no matter your frame as long as the skin is covered for example a body con, or long sleeve, or a skims type dress, or all black leggings and title neck with long riding boots and cute accessories. Obvi you’re hot no pun intended (from being clothed head to toe LOL jk) in anything you wear but you’re most attractive n that style bc it accentuates your limbs. Particularly your hands are slender and men could imagine what your hand would look like with a wedding ring. If men grab your feet when you’re chatting with your crush on the couch it’s bc you have cute toes. Your teeth are pretty and white, but continue to take care of your gum health and whiten your teeth more to charm men.
💟 long wavy hair is pretty on you if you haven’t tried it I would suggest that in maybe extensions or a wig BUT if you want to do something different try curly and super short and if you’re thinking abo it chopping your hair off then this is a sign, the pixie length with your dainty facial features would eat downnnn. As far as makeup peach tones, browns, and golds will bring out your complexions and undertones in your skin. Also I see wavy hairstyles are pretty on you as well
Xoxo
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Ps this is a LATE libra ♎️ season post 🤭 oopsie happy Scorpio ♏️ season xoxo 💋
———————————————————Tip Jar 🍪
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satoruhour · 1 year ago
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do you have any headcannons for gojo comforting reader when they start their period? (If i already sent this ask, ignore the first one! i couldnt remember if i asked this already or not)
a/n: hi darlaaa thank you for waiting teehee i love the gojo asks you’re giving me / i tried to keep it as general as possible even tho i only use pads! gn!reader, a little brief n*sfw at the end
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i think we have all established that gojo is actually like . crazy in love with you and because of that he hates that you’re hurting so much bc of it :(
gojo likes to be at your command (even on normal days but) so he’s noting down every small thing you mention
“a tub of ice cream would sound so good rn…” or “think im running out of heat pads”
and he’s on his feet instantly. when youre sick or on your period he just declares it an off day, or at least on the first day when it’s the most painful
doesn’t really care about blood since he’s seen his fair share but he sometimes panics if your period comes during the night and he sees that the sheets are red
gojo lightly turns you over and sees that it’s coming from your centre and breathes a sigh of relief bc he’s had one too many nightmares about you getting bloodied and torn to shreds by a curse and he’s too late to save you
anyway. enough of the dark stuff, you freak out the first time you stay over and your period comes (the timing is so shit truly) bc his sheets are so expensive and you just “oh my god i just ruined my chance w this beautiful man”
but gojo doesn’t bat an eye, rather jumps up to comfort you, rubbing a soothing hand over you before you head over to the bathroom to clean up
a bit of blood got on him tho, thru cuddling and gojo makes a joke about how you’re “marking” him and you just roll your eyes and shove him away with a smile lol
he gives you everything you need to clean up most of the time and lets you do your thing
doesn’t let you change the sheets w/ him and rather makes you sit down to watch him, as with other things
changing the channel? gojo is there to do it. u want another snack from the pantry? he’s teleporting that short distance in his house because he doesn’t want you to feel that disgusting rush of blood whenever you stand up. hes so dramatic i swear
has made pms jokes before but he’s changed and he’s a better man now fr. gojo has gotten a lecture from utahime and then didnt take it seriously and then REALLY got told off by shoko after 💀
now whenever you’re moody he just shuts up and comforts you quietly <3
gojo willingly straps on those devices that mimic period cramps and then just when he wants to boast, you turn on the device to the highest setting (he told u to give him ur all) and he SCREAMS the most high pitched shriek ever it’s hilarious
tricks yuji into trying it out and poor yuji gullibly smiles even when gojo hasnt explained what it’s for and the way yuji grits his teeth omfg. you swear you hear sukuna ask gojo to never fuckin do that again
never disrespects you again
reluctantly gives you his sweet things 😭 he gets a little sad when he returns from a mission and his cheesecake is gone and you’re just sitting in front of the tv going “what?” LMFAOOO
he loves you too much however and lets you do whatever!
praises you even MORE during this time it’s kinda adorbs lol — “oh! you worked out on your period, love that for you, darling!!!!”
“my baby stood up from the couch! yaayyy!!!” he’s so annoyingly cute bye
learns so much about your favourite pad and tampon brands but also has that first time funny moment where he calls you and says “babe what size pussy you have?” and 😭😭
memorises the lengths/thickness and different uses but sometimes he still buys the wrong thing (it’s ok he’s cute enough that u forgive him)
has the biggest gasp when he finds out some brands put in chemicals to make ppl w/ vaginas bleed more so they buy more sanitary products
is fully motivated to go to the offices to protest 😭😭😭
buys SO MANY packets of sanitary products and just makes the excuse of “i’m rich“ and “doesn’t hurt to have more of it in case you run out”
you gesture incredulously, “yeah but not TWENTY PACKETS????? ARE YOU INSANE?”
your sweet boyfriend is just worried for you
gives the higher-ups shit cause they make you go on a mission while on your period and it’s so disgusting to exercise, much less exorcise and run around on a mission and tells them he’ll take it instead.
gojo doesn’t tell you he did tho, just comes home a little later than usual to find u already asleep
would love to make u soup but we’ve also established he sucks in the kitchen so … he just buys you those soup packets from the soup spoon and tells you he made it himself
you believe him once. and then the next day u catch an email notifying him more packets of soup is coming the next morning 💀
you two ended up eating soup for the next few days
tells you about his missions or days if you don’t want to say or do anything. he can talk your ear off for hours and you’re glad for that but sometimes you slip in little hums or nods and he can’t help but smile hehe
gojo rubs his hand on your tummy and womb when it hurts :( it’s endearing :((
sometimes also asks you if you’d like it on your core if it hurts, and his hand cupping your cunt feels nice at times.
also wiggles his eyebrows too much asking if you need his help to cum or something bc he heard it calms cramps LOL
suggests helping you to rub one out if you want but really it all depends on you if you want it <3
all in all a very sweet guy to be around and sometimes you have to tell him to quiet down cause he’s a little too hyper but he takes care of you extensively :3 you’re his baby !!!!
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sillyyuserr · 2 months ago
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Chapter 117 analysis (WE’RE SO BACK) obviously spoilers for chapter 117 and chapter 114
i cooked with this one trust
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Everyones looking for them yadayadayada terukane
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Yk im pretty sure this is meant to be lore heavy but LOOK AT THEM
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I don’t know how to word this correctly but since chapter 115/116 between akane and teru there seems to have been something that happened in which they stopped being freaky?? 😭 like ykwim hold on
in chapter 114 this happened
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completely ruined almost everything they had, but in the span of a few days, shit still going on, they havent had their deserved break yet like they got on chapter 96-97 and somehow in the midst of all this teru’s forgiven(?) him and just moved on?? Really not sure but based on what we know ab the red house the next chapter may answer some of our questions
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Also, this is so little i didn’t see it the first time reading but teru goes to the drink machine thing to get one and mixes like 4 of the sodas,
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takes one sip decides its shit and switches with akane’s already half drunken out of tea. Indirect kiss guys wait
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Also this is JUST like the date they all went on when aoi was gone. Again, aoi is gone here too 😭 my girl getting left out of everything is acc crazy
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She comes in later tho and finally gets caught up for the first time in forever MAN aidairo must hate her😭
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But also
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We find out mitsuba and kou are going there TOO so for the first time i think ever we have the whole gang in one spot 🤥 alot of firsts this chapter smh
ALSO an honorable mention to this i saved best for last
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Sir stay away from my children
ok but fr i have no fucking clue what to say ab this cus this is either ‘teehee im right ur wrong!!~~♡’ type shit which he does alot, or genuinely like what we all think it is, which considering outside context may, in fact make it make sense trust let me explain
teru says shit like this ALL THE TIME its kind of his ACTUAL personality aside from his fake shit, like the way he is only around akane and sometimes kou (at least what we’re shown) so you’d think he’s used to this, but his initial reaction is more of a ‘um. what.’
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ALSO— backround MATTERS, the backround in this one, is pure black, which is only shown during stuff LIKE THIS (important stuff) example:
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Black background either means its dark, or its something important, something meant to be remembered, or something like that (probably)
and that panel had a BLACK BACKROUND
Why is this important you may be asking, it has a black backround— so it must be, right? If this was a silly little ‘teehee you can’t do this im better than youuu!!!~~♡’ then it probably wouldnt even have a half panel it’d be another one of the mini panels, but it not only had a whole panel for just this, a black background ;blocking LITERALLY EVERYTHING OUT ASIDE FROM THIS AND WHAT HE’S SAID, but also, pay attention the contents of what he said.
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(a different translation, this one is easier to read)
‘you are not in any position to oppose me, are you, aoi? ♡’ could mean, A LOT OF THINGS so i’ll put them in a bulletin here because any of them make for an interesting path we may be taking on ‘this’ reality😭😓
Number 1: he could be impliying, and or reminding akane, that he’s still engaged to aoi, and that if akane still thinks they shouldnt change this reality, he should reconsider, CONSIDERING he is engaged to aoi, as aforementioned. (Most likely this one)
Number 2: the power dynamic, yes akane is a school mystery with the ability to control time itself but also, teru is an exorcist, a skilled one at that— and could probably easily overpower akane in a 1v1 (lowk hyped to see this happen pls let them fight) teru may be poking fun, or reminding akane, that teru is in fact powerful, more than he seems to keep fresh on his mind — them having SO MUCH to do
Number 3: maybe instead he just felt like teasing akane and i wasted time+space for nothing and was looking way too into it (this is supposed to be the terukane option😪)
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Never once has he used this before??? Obviously you cant talk in symbols but the heart kind of implies the user of this symbol is talking in a playful/slightly flirtatious tone, hence, the reaction:
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Okay okay point is i think teru is still madly in love with him
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WAAAHHHH just look at him pooks who else does he do this with smhh 😓 NO ONE
which i think may be PARTIALLY true but also not entirely because mayb im just a tweaker
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Me when i when i ehen you whrn you when
This may make no sense at all, or alot of sense man idk its 3:12am i go back to school in like 2 weeks i am not ready for sophomore year gn
terukane will be real one day trust, also i have a twitter i post on sometimes @/silly_evvvie <3
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lily-alphonse · 3 months ago
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For the rare pair challenge: my favorite one is Sam/Alex!
unfffff I love this one how HOT would that be 🥵
My brain is scrambled tho because I have shipped them both with Sebastian as the openly gay one to even out the dynamic. I interpret Alex as closeted and Sam as bi/pan but skewing more towards women. Like he's not opposed to getting with a guy if he liked them but hasn't really thought about it kind of thing.
So how would they end up getting together?
Ok, I think I want Alex to be coming back from college. He lost his sports scholarship due to bad grades and was forced to come home, leaving his secret fling in the city at the same time. He's heartbroken, he's dejected, he's wallowing.
A couple of weeks after coming back, Haley decides she's had enough of his moping and they are going to a bar in the little town nearby to see some people from their high school perform. They're in a band now, and getting some minor success playing gigs at local venues.
Alex is totally plastered by the time Goblin Destroyer comes on stage. That must be why time slows when he sees Sam. Why his smile makes him feel warm and his heart race.
"Holy shit," he murmurs to himself. The scrawny class clown he knew in high school looks so different.
Haley eyes him knowingly. "No. Nuhuh. Not him. When I said we were getting you laid tonight I didn't mean one of the few people from Pelican Town!"
"But he's gotten SO hot."
"He's got a mullet, Lexie."
"Mullets can be hot," he pouts.
And then they begin their set, and Alex is certain he must be drunk as hell because he doesn't even like this kind of music but he's dancing along to it and having the best time. He's amazed that Sam can play the guitar and sing at the same time. He's amazed by Sam's voice, the rasp in it seriously fucking with his inhibition. And even when he stops singing, and just shreds a guitar solo, Alex is still awe-struck.
They hadn't been sure they would stay for the whole performance, but then Alex is cheering along with the crowd after their final song, cheeks flushed with exertion and heart racing.
He hasn't thought about his ex in hours. He hasn't thought about how royally fucked up his life is. And he doesn't want it to end. But Sam disappears.
Suddenly the crowd is too stifling. He needs to get outside. He needs to breathe. Haley seems to be having the time of her life pressed up against a wall with a man she met fifteen minutes ago. Alex texts her that he will be outside, and pushes his way to the exit.
It's cold, instant relief. It's quiet too, just a group of smokers chatting in the parking lot. He turns to walk the opposite direction from them, when someone bumps into him.
"Alex?"
Sam.
Teehee this is my most cliffhanger one yet I was really getting into that one. I might actually write it for real. If you'd be interested in being tagged if/when I post the fic, reblog or comment letting me know! (What are we naming this ship??)
UPDATE: I decided to give this a full fic, you can read that now on AO3 it is live as of Oct 3rd "Suckered (Alex x Sam)"
Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours
Rarepair Masterlist
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jeffsfavoriteknife · 1 year ago
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Jeff x Jealous! Male reader
Includes: Jealousy(obviously), gay shit, public sex, use of the word malewife
You glared at him from the corner of your eye as he sat with what he called his friend, jealousy eating you alive. Everytime you saw them together it ate at you, you knew he had told you that they were just good friends but you felt he was lying to you, Jeff was known for lying and it just seemed so cut and dry that he was into the guy. You stood up from the coffee table you sat at suddenly, slightly startling the guy next to Jeff as you walked off, not wanting to see him for a while, he was fucking with you, taunting you, and yet you did nothing except walk away.
You felt a hand on your shoulder tightly grip you and turn you around to none other than Jeff. “Mind tellin me what the fuck your problem is?” You glared at him before pulling away ‘you know what my fuckin problem is’ he angrily huffs, clearly fed up with your shit as he shoves you against the wall “i already told you im not fuckin with that guy, even if i was whats it any of your damn business?” This caused you to hesitate on answering, leading him to catch on “no fucking shit..” he griped your jaw and forced you to look up at him, his cold yet dangerous eyes staring back
“you could have just said somethin, i will admit your pretty fucking cute and look quite breedable” you clutched the bottom of your shirt tight ‘the fuck is that supposed to mean??? I cant be bred you fuckin idiot’ he gets closer to you, clearly towering over you as he smirks “nah i definitely could, youd make a cute malewife, i know damn well you got skirts and knee high socks in your place, ive seen you wear them once or twice” face bright red with embarrassment you rolled your eyes ‘of fucking course youd be the one to watch people through their houses’ he pulled you to him, letting out a dark chuckle “i can tell that your not pissed about it tho” he eyed your pants as you yanked your shirt down more to cover yourself “let me help” he didnt give you time to respond before yanking your pants down along with your boxers ‘JEFF! we are in public! Someone is gonna say something, are you insane???’ “Absolutely” he didnt hesitate to turn you around and position you so you were basically offering yourself to him ‘wait wait wait! I havent,,done this before’ his eyes glinted at this as he gripped onto your thighs, yanking his own pants down “you have no idea how fucking cute that is to me, ill be the first AND last one to ruin you” he pressed himself into you, your tightness causing him a bit of trouble but nothing a good old slam wont fix.
This made you cry out in both pain in pleasure, one one side the burn was excruciating, on the other hand he was rubbing right against your prostate causing your cock to throb. He picked you up by your thighs and pounded into you mercilessly, wanting to hear every ounce of noise your mouth could make for him, he wanted to RUIN you. You cried out, mumbling his name along with incoherent sentences but he loved every moment of it, you crying out his name making him go even harder. Your back rubbing against the wall was no doubt going to leave marks but you were hooked on his cock and couldnt bother to ask him to stop, you were basically drooling while the man you swooned over for so long wrecked you. You tightened your grip on him as you came, the entire time you did he was watching your cock twitch with every spurt, yeah, he wasnt gonna let you go. He dug his nails into your thighs, leaving marks in its wake as he bit into your shoulder, drawing blood and pumping you full of him, overfilling you to where some was spilling out, you rolled your eyes in the back of your head in pure bliss
(Yeah its short but its 3 am and since im a slut for jeff im allowed to write short lil stories that is just sex w hardly any plot teehee)
-🖤🔪
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d1s1ntegrated · 4 months ago
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new blog! welcome! sorry this is forward, don't mean to overwhelm ya, but.
can you elaborate on the whimpers?????? on the shiggy hcs??????? you've got me interested now.
might as well get you used to having horny asks bwahahaha
omg hai. yes i will elaborate i was gonna do that anyways but TEEHEE ill put it here ! also wtf why is everyone awake rn i wasnt expecting all the activity already
im actually so surprised, thank u guys wtf???
some nsfw shiggy hcs pt1
he's really whiny, he makes the sweetest little noises when you touch him, and he just cant help but get overstimulated fast because of how badly he wants it
literally sounds so pathetic sometimes, moaning and crying out for you to let him fuck you, or fuck him depending on how hes feeling
before u met him he was a virgin (one of my favv hcs tbh). when you two finally went all the way, he tried to pretend he was a hot shot but came as soon as you touched his d1ck. (it was hot tho, kinda boosts the confidence, yknow?)
greedy as fuck. wont stop until he's spent.
really skilled fingers (hes a gamer, duh)
sometimes he takes his gloves off and teases you with his bare hands, he loves seeing you squirm and panic underneath him, but you both know he'd never actually hurt you.
sensitive neck, earlobes, and nipples
pierced nipples (hot af)
100% switch obviously
loves biting ur thighs/ass, and leaves big pretty bruises on your inner thighs before he goes down on you
speaking of, certified munch- he will eat it like hes STARVING because he loves the noises you make and loves seeing you under his thumb like that
still cums really fast sometimes, he gets embarrassed ab its cute as fuck
loves under-the-desk head, bro feels like a god when u suck him off when hes gaming, he doesnt even bother to mute the headset
can you tell i had fun writing this or what
i have severe shig brainrot i love you tenko shimura
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doodle-girl · 7 months ago
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The Monsters of Eastridge: DOAI Playlist
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Description: At this point, might as well make a playlist for everything. Welcome to my own personal demon-filled hell, this is mostly based on lyrics, vibes, or both 🎃 (Edit: Due to recent fixations, this now also includes some Sitcom AU stuff.)
(Yeah this is made mostly for @spookmuth but also just anyone else who’s interested in my music taste/how my thoughts work. Will update the post whenever the playlist updates, have fun! Also footnotes will be in brackets because I like footnotes)
Edit: Now on spotify! Courtesy of @witheredallium <3
“Happy Face” by Jagwar Twin [I have had an animatic for this jangling around my brain for actual several months oh my god]
“Turn the Lights Off” by Tally Hall
“A1 - It’s just a burning memory” by The Caretaker [Yeah idk how well this actually fits since it’s based on a song from like. The 30s. But I think it’s obligatory for any analog horror ever lol]
"I Can't Decide" by The Scissor Sisters [This one I got inspo from havoc-bloom's playlist/clip of Pastra finding it. A few of these are, actually, lol] [Edit: I have now realized just how well this fits Clyde in the sitcom au and I am once again plagued by art ideas 👀]
"I'M Sane" by Axie [Me when I torture the innocent with horrid monsters and become one myself. but I'm a little silly about it teehee~ 😜]
"The Circus" by Toby Fox [This popped up on shuffle when I was drawing Clyde once and my brain refused to let go of the vibes™ ever since]
"Animal Cannibal (Possibly in Michigan)" by Buckshot Princess [I would've put the one by Karen Skladany but it's not on apple music 😔 sad. This cover's really nice tho]
"The Dismemberment Song" by Blue Kid [Same reasoning as "I'M Sane," nyehehe. Also this song really feels like it's ripped out of a musical number. If you told me it was I'd believe you.]
"The Mind Electric" by Miracle Musical
"Horror Show" by K-Modo [You ever just. Think about why Lankmann does the things he did? Like what's his game here?]
"Dance of Corpse (feat. Hatsune Miku)" by Kikuo [this might also spiral into an animatic lol. Anyway do me a solid and go look up the music video, turn on the official english subtitles and come back to me.]
"The Nowhere King" by The Centaurworld Cast
"Nothing Changes" by Jewelle Blackman, Yvette Gonzalez-Nacer, and Kay Trinidad [this musical makes me feel. so many things. And I just think the vibes/lyrics of "why try when you'll only end in misery" might fall into the category of vibes here idk idk]
"Murders" by Miracle Musical
"Kitchen Fork" by Jack Conte [I don't remember exactly why I put this here rn but I just know this is an Alex song. It's so beautifully haunting and passionate stg] [Edit: yeah definitely an Alex song]
"Meet Me in the Woods" by Lord Huron ['kay I know the vibes are probably off but look at the lyrics and tell me it shouldn't go here]
"A Crow's Trial" by Vane Lily [Look man I can’t explain this one exactly but just trust me on it]
"You're F****d" by Ylvis [Yeah I put this one here as a joke song. Every single character in here is SO doomed by the narrative, I'm sorry Alex but it's true. teehee~]
"UNCANNY / ft. KAFU" by kian [I actually couldn't find this one on apple music but galactinqq was right about this being an Alex song and I'm putting it on the post]
"Raising the Dead!" by Jessica Law [Styx, you madlad, this is SUCH a Lankmann song oh my god]
“Hymn for a Scarecrow” by Tally Hall [“Simon isn’t even in the series yet, though” My guy it’s called Hymn for a Scarecrow and it’s Tally Hall what else do you want me to do. I love Simon so much I miss him already <3]
“Break My Mind” by DAGames
“In the Mood” by Glenn Miller [this one was in Vol 1! So I found it and I’m putting it here <3]
“Pictures” by Kyle Allen Music [I mean technically the series is videos but whatever. This song fits sue me]
“Ruler of Everything” by Tally Hall [I saw the words “mechanical hands” on a DOAI fanart once and it jumpstarted an idea that refuses to leave me. Turns out it fits VERY well holy crap]
"I'll Be There for You (Theme from Friends)" by The Rembrandts [shoutout to froggydrawz's own sitcom AU playlist for more material for me eheheheh ✌️ I'll be putting a few of those here]
"I'm Still Standing" by Taron Egerton [sitcom exclusive because canon Alex is fucking dead /lh]
"Digital Silence" by Peter McPoland
"How Far We've Come" by Matchbox Twenty [another sitcom one nyehehehe. This AU has me by a chokehold unlike any other AU I've been into istg]
"Who is She (Reprise)" by Kimiko Glenn [I apologize for those who came here for a normie-ass DOAI playlist, I promise it started out that way but y'know that's fixations for ya. Anyways I added this one on a whim because it gave off veldigun!Alex AU vibes. Might fit with other stuff idk do with that what you will ¯\_(ツ)_/¯]
"Soft Bitch" by Rio Romeo [pretty sure it was spookmuth that made a sitcom AU art inspired by this song and I love it]
"Runaway" by AURORA [secret-spirit if you see this at all just know this was your doing (/pos). This is like, my favorite AURORA song and seeing you do an Alex art in the whiteboard to this song sparked a primal "holy shit" moment in me]
"Lose Control" by Teddy Swims [I was doodling in the DOAI whiteboard when my mamá started playing this in the other room and my brain immediately went "oh my god what if Clyde and Winfrey"]
"Soft Apocalypse" by Charming Disaster [Once again, everybody give it up for Styx's music taste, this is making my brainworms go mad with art ideas 👏👏👏 sitcom AU song, btw]
Side note, might hit a word limit here? So Imma have to continue this list in a reblog, just look through those for more if ya want✌️
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vinylshifting · 1 month ago
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ᘛMy Introᘚ
꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣
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Hei!! i go by Vinyl or Väinö (Mostly Vinyl on this blog)
Ive been in the shifting community for well over 2 years i first joined in around 2022-2023
Mystery age shhh (somewhere between 15 to 17)
I was on shifter tiktok for the start, but i actually spent most of my journey on shifter youtube. Ive been on and off on tumblr for a while, but im here now!
Im Finnish, but will only speak(mostly speak) english on this blog
I dont care what pronouns im called, But She/Her are fine (Even though im a guy in person lol.. im basically a girl in all of my drs tho-)
My lucky angel number: 77
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Im in many fandoms and have many interests:
Music (All sorts of music, mostly metal, glam rock, or specifically just my queen, lana del rey), Crypitds/Mythical stuff, True crime, HTTYD, MLP, Visual novels, Lords of Chaos
Hobbies/Stuff i like to do:
Writing, Making scripts, Making moodboards, Worldbuilding, Reading, Making Drs, Shifting (ofc)
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Im a strong believer of you can script anything, theres infinate amount of universes so it already exists
I make moodboards and take moodboard requests! (The only time i probably wont do a request is if i dont know the character/media srryy)
I have no DNI! Just please dont be weird
Dont be afraid to DM me! im alsways open to be friends, i just stuck at conversations wahh. especially small talk
Some of my DRs
† Vampiric WR: My WR where im an immortal vampire living alone and i can travel to all my drs through this WR (probably will permashift here someday). I live in Transylvania
† Hogwarts DR: Current main dr, im a student at hogwarts but im also a half vampire and know dark magic and am having my own side adventure from the golden trios adventures
† Jail Fiancée DR: Dating my boyfriend whos in jail wahhh, i can fix him i swear (i am fixing him and we will live happily together… when hes out on parole). Takes place in Ukraine
† Rockstar‘s Gf DR: Dating Kelly Nickles, My man. God i love him so much mmmmhhhehehe. I come from a rich family and live in Nevada <3
† Моргевейн Dr: An alternative Cr where im a Russian metalhead living in America, Im in a Band. Just living my life. I also live neer the woods and some lakes so i love walking there!
† Mermaid DR: Just a mermaid Dr, based off both H2O and the Waterfire saga. Im so excited to live underwater ahhh i love marine animals. (Havent created a script yet, mostly subconscious based and Also i have a pinterest board for it lol)
† Deirdre Eilís DR: An Alternative Cr where im Norwegian/Irish andliving in america and dating my rapper boyfriend. Im also pretty as hell in this Dr like omfg.
† Red Hot DR: A dr where im just living life in the 90s-2000s and also im Dating Joey jordison teehee. I might turn this into where i have my own band (will probably be based off Kittie, Hole, or/and Genitorturers..). This dr is also mostly Subconscious based + With a pinterest board
Drs im working on/want: A hogwarts Dr 100%(even though i havent even started the script wahh), Model/Actress Dr (i have moodboards and a small pinterest board for it already..), The LOC Dr i started today but haven’t finished yet
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(I forgot who made these cute borders, if anyone knows who made them please comment so i can give creds! <3)
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emiliosandozsequence · 2 months ago
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Tell us about sjm. Spill the tea.
oh man there really is SOOO very much of it that idk how i'll fit all into one response, but i'll do my best 🫡
so sjm or sarah j maas is a very popular fantasy writer (she is the origin of 'feminist' romantasy as a genre because her writing has just been THAT influential (in some good ways, but mostly in bad ones for reasons i'll get to in a minute). she's jewish and has white skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes (this also is relevant i promise).
anyway, despite her writing being so influential it...is really not that good (it has the potential to be tho which is one of the (many) reasons why reading her stuff is so frustrating) and she has a HUUUGE problem with putting her biases in her writing, in particular her racism, misogyny, and ableism.
her racism is at a level that i truly find unbelievable. in every book of hers, every character that is seen as good/smart/beautiful/brave, is a main character, or, at the very least, starts out that way in the story and doesn't have a redemption arc later after the narrative has already taught you to hate her (because it's always female characters this is done with too), has fair hair and light colored eyes (and almost always light skin too); on the opposite end of the spectrum, every single (female) character that either is in the story for not very long, isn't a main character, starts out a bad or undesirable person in some manner, or isn't considered good/smart/beautiful/brave has dark hair, eyes, and/or skin.
this is a tame tho in comparison to the fact that in the first two throne of glass books (one the series she's written), the only black character is considered a manipulative liar (she's even described as such on the wiki lmao) despite being the main character's best friend before she's summarily killed off in an extremely violent manner all for the development of that main character. she also has an asian character in the acotar series that is considered rude and emotionless, despite, again, being a best friend of the main characters. oh and of COURSE the asian character doesn't have dark eyes lol. because...can't have that in a sjm book!!!! no one can look like an irl person of color AT ALL!!!! g-d. and then, ofc, there's the illyrians, which are 100% coded as people of color and are a violent and misogynistic group of people lmao. as if htat weren't bad enough, she also tried to trademark illyria/illyiran even tho (and this is what made me make the post this morning) that's a REAL PLACE with REAL PEOPLE LIVING THERE.
and even THAT is tame to the fact she posted a promotion for her own book on the same day breonna taylor was killed and, not only that, but used her death to promote said book because she mentioned the murder in one (1) line of the post. to this day she has STILL NOT taken down that post.
compared to that, her misogyny in her novels (the main character constantly competing with other girls and always thinking she's better than they are and 'not like other girls teehee') and her glaring plagiarism (she uses terminology not only directly pulled from asoiaf (wolf in the north; the queen who was promised; oathbreaker; breaker of chains) but is used in exactly the same context as asoiaf too as well as some pretty significant plotlines of dany's (in particular her freeing the slaves of several cities and gathering up everyone on her continent to support her claim to the throne and unite in defense against a common foe that will turn all of them into walking zombies basically....SOUND FAMILIAR??????)) is a pretty tame offense, but imo it all adds up to just one disgusting whole of a person to me.
oh and, to top it all off, she's a zionist. there's a video essay about her i watched on youtube that explains the proof for this, but i do Not remember what it was she said now, so i'll link it here.
she's also ableist too, which expresses itself in how nesta archeron is treated throughout a court of silver flames (g-d forbid a traumatized woman be hypersexual and an addict and get sick of being treated like shit by the peope around her or she deserves to get thrown out of her home to a place her 'loved ones' know is going to be openly hostile to her lol). i don't think sjm even realizes how ableist she is throughout this book bc she claimed it's a healing journey and like...lol. lmao even.
also (i'm 100% being petty here) i hate how fake she comes across. in every time i see a picture of her, and the one interview of her i saw, she reminds me so much of my mother to the point it makes me physically ill.
i'm almost certainly forgetting something because there's just SOOO much about this woman to dislike, but this is everything that immediately came to mind.
anyway her fans are also rancid and believe she's some sort of goddess of writing when she's not even that good and is 100% a fake and shitty person that doesn't truly care about them at all whatsoever.
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fatuismooches · 11 months ago
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(About the Dottore sugar tax)
I like to imagine that some members of the Fatui are very discreet in handing out the sweets.
Oh, one of their comrades is getting a scolding and it looks like it's escalating? Quick! Sneak a sweet nearby that the Lord Harbinger could spot easily!
And what happens is that mid-rant, the segment would glance just a little to the side behind the researcher and he sees - what the fuck?? Why is there a Charcoal-Baked Ajilenakh Cake on the desk??? How? When???
And he just gets so confused that he kinda momentarily short-circuits
The Fatui can't keep using the sweets tactics too often tho, they might accidentally pavlov their lord into hating sweets if he keeps receiving them when he's angry!
It happened with Omega already, he scowled at the Fatui Skirmisher and demanded if the agent thought of him as a dog that could be placated with a mere treat. Yeah that guy is dead now.
And of course the segments start to get suspicious by the sixth incident of receiving a sweet out of nowhere.
Zandik is baffled, because somehow everyone and their damn mother knows he has a sweet tooth and he is convinced that Pantalone has something to do with it (probably the ninth trying to gain his favour for a new gadget to sell)
Reader: sweating in the background.
Wait no I got pavlov's experiment mixed up: It would be more accurate to say that since Dottore keeps receiving sweets when he's angry - he starts to subconsciously expect sweets when he's frustrated. Which is even funnier because imagine how confused he'd be. He's stressing about failed results, why is he salivating???
OH MY GOSH... THIS IS LIKE THE FUNNIEST AND CUTEST THING EVER AHH!! When you work for someone such as Il Dottore, it is important to stick together with your fellow co-workers. Because you never know what will happen. And also, you don't really want to be carrying your new friend's dead body to the experimentation room. So it's important to look out for each other every now and then. This includes distracting the Harbinger's attention in any way possible from the target of his assault. Even if it means sneaking sweets into the lab. Yes, it is truly terrifying work, but it is necessary, especially when you were so kind to bestow this protection upon them.
THE WHOLE ASS CHARCOAL CAKE IS WHAT MAKES ME DIE... 😭 Was he really so caught up in his ranting that he didn't notice it? Actually, never mind that, how did they know he likes sweets, much less prefers Sumerian sweets compared to any other nation? All the agents have the exact same poker face, betraying absolutely nothing, for their lives are genuinely on the line right now. It was all riding on this Charcoal-Baked Ajilenakh Cake. Yes, this was 100% serious.
Ugh... if i was a regular agent think i'd rather die than present the OMEGA segment of all a piece of candy. The courage it'd take is insane. But oops. The other agents knew from that day they needed to be more careful with their tactics... yes, they have to add this to the handbook now. 😭 I imagine, the method begins to be used sparsely because the segments are not going to let their reputation be dumbed down to the guys who can be won over by mere sweets. Nope, not happening, they should be feared! Not known to the Fatui as being a sweets lover! So subduing the segments with sweets only happens on very violent days. Or if you happen to be in the room, you'll happily take the sweets offered by the agents and share them with the segment to make him calm down.
EBWKBEWEW DOTTORE BLAMING PANTALONE FOR ALL HIS PROBLEMS!! 😭 ah he would, despite how smart he is, it just completely slips his mind that you could have done this as well. Oh well! You just hope he doesn't find out! *nervous sweating intensifies*
Teehee him stressing not only over his failed results but his sudden urge to devour some sweets... it's really annoying for him though, usually, he ignores his growling stomach for a long time but, the taste of sweets is just haunting him and his tastebuds.
Maybe if he asks you, you can make some that lasts a few days... because at this rate, he expects to be thinking about sweets for a while with how poorly his experiments are going.
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