ruin everything

For @mpahri

 never thought to tell anyone that he’d be going away - aside from putting in his leave at the hospital, he’d always assumed that no one would care anyway.  That being said, his trip to New York ended up longer (and messier) than he’d expected. It was somewhat refreshing to step back into the shoes of being ‘Carter Kim’ though: accompanying Bree on her ridiculously extravagant grocery trips and taking her to their favourite restaurant over in East Village.

Being back in Mount Phoenix though, he was surprised at where his thoughts had immediately landed. He hadn’t even stopped by at home yet but instead found himself at Ahri’s apartment, his luggage in tow and looking worse for wear with a bruised cheek and busted lip - only half healed since Bree’s fucker of an ex-husband decided to get into a fight with him the night before he left.

She was debating of maybe contacting Invidia, perhaps to sorta maybe get her inside Babylon, when the knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. Staring at the blank page of her tablet paper she gives a sigh and goes to fetch her wallet. That was probably the takeout she had ordered. It was easy to return to old habits when she didn’t have anybody to share her meals with. Irelia had left for goodness how long and there was nobody raiding her fridge that most of her leftovers had spoiled. And with Hwiyoung also out of the island, she hadn’t seen a point to actually go out.

As if she had summoned him, Ahri’s green eyes widened as she opened the door, and there he stood. It didn’t seem possible that he had been gone that long, but the familiar height made her shrink back at how intense her heart seemed to thunder. That was until she noticed his appearance.

“I don’t know what kind of takeout you’re ordering, Ahri, but I hope not,” he responded, a brow raised. He gestured at his luggage, the half torn ‘Seoul to New York’ tag still hanging on the handle. “I just got back to the island,” he explained, as though it weren’t that obvious, “Are you going to invite me in?”

“Busy?” She echoed as she closed the door behind him, as if half afraid he would change his mind and slide back out. She looked down at her attire, ratty t-shirt and comfy pajama bottoms, hair in a messy bun, eyeglasses perched on her nose. “No, not particularly no.” She shakes her head and gestures for him to sit at the couch.

“You look….” She stammers, as if finally getting the courage to look Hwiyoung in the eye and almost regretting it right after. Ahri winced seeing the bruises on his face. “Oh, you don’t look all right.” She blurted before thinking about it, slapping a hand over her mouth just as the words left her. “I mean..! You don’t look as good as your normall do…I mean…!”

He sat on the couch, a brow raised as he watched her struggle with her words again. He’d looked in a mirror on the plane; he knew he looked like shit, but it was amusing to hear her try to be polite about it. He gave a slight scoff, pushing back his long hair. “Someone tried to fight me,” he explained, but then added in a haste, “But you should see what he looks like - dumb fuck won’t be throwing a fist any time soon.”

For @mpahri

 never thought to tell anyone that he’d be going away - aside from putting in his leave at the hospital, he’d always assumed that no one would care anyway.  That being said, his trip to New York ended up longer (and messier) than he’d expected. It was somewhat refreshing to step back into the shoes of being ‘Carter Kim’ though: accompanying Bree on her ridiculously extravagant grocery trips and taking her to their favourite restaurant over in East Village.

Being back in Mount Phoenix though, he was surprised at where his thoughts had immediately landed. He hadn’t even stopped by at home yet but instead found himself at Ahri’s apartment, his luggage in tow and looking worse for wear with a bruised cheek and busted lip - only half healed since Bree’s fucker of an ex-husband decided to get into a fight with him the night before he left.

She was debating of maybe contacting Invidia, perhaps to sorta maybe get her inside Babylon, when the knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. Staring at the blank page of her tablet paper she gives a sigh and goes to fetch her wallet. That was probably the takeout she had ordered. It was easy to return to old habits when she didn’t have anybody to share her meals with. Irelia had left for goodness how long and there was nobody raiding her fridge that most of her leftovers had spoiled. And with Hwiyoung also out of the island, she hadn’t seen a point to actually go out.

As if she had summoned him, Ahri’s green eyes widened as she opened the door, and there he stood. It didn’t seem possible that he had been gone that long, but the familiar height made her shrink back at how intense her heart seemed to thunder. That was until she noticed his appearance.

“I don’t know what kind of takeout you’re ordering, Ahri, but I hope not,” he responded, a brow raised. He gestured at his luggage, the half torn ‘Seoul to New York’ tag still hanging on the handle. “I just got back to the island,” he explained, as though it weren’t that obvious, “Are you going to invite me in?”

add context   &   change gendered language to your needs .   happy roleplaying !!

Starter for @mpahri

Hwiyoung had never been a fan of work functions, but the hospital charity gala was a yearly event that his superiors would never allow him to skip. In his years as a resident, he’d spent most of the night sipping champagne and silently scanning the room with a flame of ambition burning just below the surface. Now that he was a surgeon though, it seemed that more eyes were on him - as though he had more value with his new title, though the stain of being his father’s son would forever taint his achievement.

Looking clean cut and a deceivingly picturesque image of a true professional, Hwiyoung had switched his doctor’s coat for a sleek pin stripped suit and a black shirt, carefully offset with a white tie. His long hair was pushed back, showing off his chiseled, sharp features. He carried a look of quiet disinterest though, deeming the night a waste of time until his he saw a familiar figure - Ahri.

[ … ]

𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏𝙎   ,   𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴 . (  a collection of roleplay prompts for when one muse is feeling vulnerable , or is in need of some loving ! prompts may be edited or changed to fit muses as required . ‘ my ’ muse refers to the receiver’s muse . add ‘ reverse ’ for the opposite . )

Starter for @mpahri

Hwiyoung had never been a fan of work functions, but the hospital charity gala was a yearly event that his superiors would never allow him to skip. In his years as a resident, he’d spent most of the night sipping champagne and silently scanning the room with a flame of ambition burning just below the surface. Now that he was a surgeon though, it seemed that more eyes were on him - as though he had more value with his new title, though the stain of being his father’s son would forever taint his achievement.

Looking clean cut and a deceivingly picturesque image of a true professional, Hwiyoung had switched his doctor’s coat for a sleek pin stripped suit and a black shirt, carefully offset with a white tie. His long hair was pushed back, showing off his chiseled, sharp features. He carried a look of quiet disinterest though, deeming the night a waste of time until his he saw a familiar figure - Ahri.

[ ... ]

Continued from here with @mpxhwiyoung

♮

“How about you stick with me tonight then, cute face?” he teased, nodding to his dad who stood somewhat confused behind them, “ You can come home with us afterwards. I’m sure she won’t mind the extra company.” Hwiyoung didn’t bother lowering his voice, purposefully ensuring that Invidia’s client could hear them.

Starter for @mpahri

Hwiyoung had never been a fan of work functions, but the hospital charity gala was a yearly event that his superiors would never allow him to skip. In his years as a resident, he’d spent most of the night sipping champagne and silently scanning the room with a flame of ambition burning just below the surface. Now that he was a surgeon though, it seemed that more eyes were on him - as though he had more value with his new title, though the stain of being his father’s son would forever taint his achievement.

Looking clean cut and a deceivingly picturesque image of a true professional, Hwiyoung had switched his doctor’s coat for a sleek pin stripped suit and a black shirt, carefully offset with a white tie. His long hair was pushed back, showing off his chiseled, sharp features. He carried a look of quiet disinterest though, deeming the night a waste of time until his he saw a familiar figure - Ahri.

Hwiyoung’s jacket was warm and smelled good, like the woodsmoke, without the stuffy smoke. It smelled crisp and Ahri probably shouldnt have buried her nose into the lapel of his jacket just breathing it in, but she was cold, and he smelled warm.

The taxi was relatively warmer than the cool night air and she was highly aware that her hand was still tucked under his before she was tugged closer to him.

...