#rice cake skewers

[lifeblogstory]

Sausages & Rice Cakes On Stick

Taiwanese style street food🍢. Sausages and rice cakes on stick. Added with spicy sauce. Taste fragile and easy to chew. Convenient to eat on the go. From “JapanFes”

[calpicowater]

Week 26/52: June 26th - July 2nd 2023 | 付小姐在成都

Went to eat Miss Fu In Cheng Du with parents and their client LOL. Just there for free food... ahh I feel like this place was SO yum when they first opened but the taste has gone down drastically in the last four years. Kind of tragic, but happy to eat regardless.

[forleejehoon]

Jehoon IG update:

I think a movie from the 22nd century Came out right now. It's the best😆 Please make sure to watch it!!!

[optimisticwolfstarfish]

Cambodia’s Best Street Food – Beef & Cakes Combo!

[warnermusicartistservices]

Skewers of Korean Rice Cake, Tteok kkochi ddeogggoci

[serbaki]

Korean Rice Cake Skewers, Tteok kkochi ddeogggoci

[dksfml]

LOVE 119 [PART IV] - THE PREQUEL

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. masterlist.

pairing: jungwon x reader summary: the story of how you and jungwon met and fell in love at the most unexpected time and place. genre: countryside romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst, teasing, banter, and fluff (for the earlier parts: enemies at work, lovers at home. workplace romance, secret dating, suggestive, submissive jungwon) word count: 4.6k author's note: prequel to the paramedic jungwon series, but can be read first. shoutout to @tinycatharsis who gave me the idea to make a backstory for this series. i absolutely love writing this part, and all of it just makes sense. enjoy <3 playlist: pink skies - lany, every summertime - niki, orange flower - enhypen, mean it - lauv & lany.

The city had never felt like home.

It was where you spent years chasing deadlines, drowning in textbooks, and memorizing medical terms until they became second nature. It was where you learned to function on caffeine and minimal sleep, where your days blurred into a never-ending cycle of lectures, internships, and hospital rotations. It was where you succeeded but never truly lived.

So when graduation finally arrived, when you were handed that hard-earned diploma with your name written in elegant calligraphy, your first instinct wasn’t to celebrate. It was to escape.

You needed a pause before the next battle. The board exams loomed ahead, but for the first time in years, you had the freedom to breathe. And there was only one place that made sense—home.

Not the sleek apartment in the city. Not the sterile walls of a hospital. But the countryside, where your childhood memories lived.

Where the air smelled of fresh earth instead of smoke and gasoline. Where the horizon stretched endlessly, painted in hues of green and gold. Where the nights weren’t filled with sirens and car horns, but with the steady hum of crickets and the occasional bark of a distant dog.

It had been years since you’d last visited. Your relatives still lived there, cousins who once ran through the fields barefoot, now grown. You imagined their wide-eyed curiosity when they saw you again, the pride in their voices when they introduced you as the family’s doctor-to-be.

And so, with a suitcase packed and a heart yearning for something familiar, you left behind the city’s cold embrace and stepped onto a bus heading toward the place where it all began.

At that moment, you had no idea that this trip would change everything. That buried in the stillness of the countryside, amidst the swaying rice fields and the warmth of home, was a story waiting to unfold.

A story that began with a single glance across a field.

And a boy named Jungwon.

The bus ride stretched long and languid, the road unraveling before you in a winding path of asphalt and dust. The further you traveled, the more the city’s towering buildings shrank into the distance, replaced by rolling hills, scattered nipa huts, and endless fields bathed in the golden afternoon sun.

You leaned against the window, watching as the scenery shifted, the hum of the bus blending with the distant sounds of cicadas. There was something deeply nostalgic about it, how the trees bent with the wind, how farmers worked in synchronized rhythm, their straw hats bobbing as they harvested the rice that swayed like an ocean of gold.

It was a world untouched by the frantic pace of city life. Here, time stretched rather than sprinted, and people moved with purpose but without urgency.

It felt foreign now, yet painfully familiar.

As the bus pulled into the town’s small terminal, you took a deep breath. The air was thick with the scent of freshly harvested crops, warm earth, and a hint of smoke from a nearby food stall grilling skewers of meat. A few vendors called out to passing travelers, selling rice cakes wrapped in banana leaves, baskets of ripe mangoes, and homemade treats that reminded you of childhood afternoons spent sneaking bites before dinner.

Your cousin was already waiting for you.

“Y/N!” she called, waving excitedly from where she stood near a parked tricycle. Her face had changed over the years, the round cheeks of childhood now sharper, more mature. But her smile was the same. Bright, welcoming, and filled with the warmth of home.

You barely had time to react before she threw her arms around you, squeezing tight.

“It’s been so long! You look so—” She stepped back, giving you a once-over, eyes sparkling with mischief. “—so much like a city girl.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She smirked. “You’re gonna hate the heat. And the bugs.”

You already knew she was right. But you weren’t here for comfort. You were here to escape.

The ride back to your family’s house was bumpy, the dirt road uneven beneath the tricycle’s wheels. But the sight of home, your grandmother’s old wooden house, the wide fields stretching into the horizon, the laughter of children playing barefoot in the grass, was enough to make your chest tighten with something indescribable.

You had spent your entire life chasing after something bigger. A career, success, a future that was meant to shine. But sitting there, feeling the wind whip through your hair as the tricycle sped past familiar places, you realized that maybe the small things had always been the most precious.

The first few days passed in a blur of warm reunions and endless storytelling. Your little cousins clung to you, peppering you with questions about the city. They asked if the buildings really touched the sky, if the cars never stopped moving, if it was true that the air smelled different.

You answered them with a smile, but deep down, you envied their simple wonder.

One afternoon, your uncle invited you to the fields. “Just to see,” he said, but the knowing glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

That’s how you found yourself knee-deep in the rice paddies, the sun beating down mercilessly, sweat trickling down your spine as you attempted—poorly—to mimic the careful, practiced movements of the farmers. The mud squelched beneath your feet, and every time an insect buzzed past, you flinched. Your cousins laughed at your misery, their own hands swift and efficient as they gathered the stalks.

And then, you slipped.

It was embarrassing, really. One moment, you were standing, trying your best to pretend you belonged there, and the next, you were on the ground, hands sinking into the thick mud.

Laughter erupted around you, loud and unfiltered. You groaned, about to push yourself up when a shadow fell over you.

A hand appeared in your line of vision, fingers calloused, palm open.

“Need some help, city girl?”

You looked up, squinting against the sunlight.

That was the first time you saw him.

Jungwon.

His dark hair was slightly damp from sweat, his skin slightly tanned from days under the sun. There was an ease in the way he stood, as if he had done this his whole life, and maybe he had. His white shirt was loose, the sleeves rolled up, revealing toned arms that spoke of quiet strength. But what struck you most wasn’t his appearance.

It was the way he looked at you.

Amused. Curious. And just a little bit smug.

You frowned, ignoring his hand as you pushed yourself up, only to stumble again. This time, his hands caught you before you could fall, steadying you with surprising gentleness.

“Careful,” he said, voice tinged with laughter. “This isn’t the city. No smooth pavements here.”

You scowled. “I noticed.”

His lips quirked upward, eyes filled with something unreadable. “Yeah,” he mused. “I bet you did.”

And just like that, the first spark was lit.

You just didn’t know it yet.

You were still trying to shake off the mud from your hands when Jungwon chuckled.

“You sure you don’t need help?” he teased, crossing his arms.

You shot him a glare, brushing your palms against your pants in frustration. “I’m fine.”

Jungwon’s lips twitched as if suppressing a laugh. “Right. Totally looks like it.”

Your cousins were still snickering in the background, whispering to each other like schoolchildren watching a drama unfold. You sent them a warning glance, but that only made them giggle harder.

“Are you always this clumsy, or is it just the countryside that makes you weak?” Jungwon continued, his tone light but undeniably amused.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t usually walk around in knee-deep mud, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Figured as much.” His gaze flickered to your clothes—your crisp white shirt now smeared with dirt, your once-pristine sneakers barely visible under the layers of mud. His smirk deepened. “You don’t exactly blend in here, city girl.”

You bristled at the nickname. “I have a name, you know.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

You hesitated for a split second. You weren’t sure why, but a part of you didn’t want to tell him, not yet. So instead, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin. “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?”

Jungwon let out a short laugh, tilting his head. “Fair enough.” He extended his hand, though with all the mud, neither of you seemed eager to actually shake hands. “Jungwon.”

You nodded, pretending not to be impressed by his confidence. “I’ve seen you around.”

“Same,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “Hard not to notice when someone reacts to every little bug like they’re facing death itself.”

You gasped. “I do not!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Tell that to the grasshopper that made you shriek earlier.”

Your cousins burst into laughter again, and you groaned, throwing your head back in exasperation. “Unbelievable.”

Jungwon only grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big, scary insects.”

You rolled your eyes. “How noble of you.”

“I try.”

There was something infuriatingly charming about the way he spoke, his confidence laced with playfulness. You weren’t used to people talking to you like this, teasing, and completely unafraid to push your buttons. In the city, most people were either too polite or too intimidated by your background. But Jungwon? He wasn’t impressed.

And for some reason, that annoyed you.

“You work here?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

“For now,” he replied, kicking some loose dirt with the toe of his boot. “Helping out my family for the summer.”

You frowned. “You don’t usually live here?”

“Nope.” His expression didn’t change, but there was something unreadable in his tone. “I don’t stay in one place for long.”

That caught your attention. You studied him for a moment, trying to figure him out. He didn’t seem like someone who belonged in a quiet town like this. His sharp features, his composed demeanor there was a certain confidence about him, as if he had seen more of the world than this countryside could offer. He moved with an ease that felt practiced, as if he had long learned how to adapt to different places.

And yet, here he was.

“Don’t overthink it, city girl,” Jungwon said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You’ll hurt your head.”

You scoffed. “What makes you think I’m overthinking?”

He simply shrugged, his eyes glinting. “Call it intuition.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, your uncle’s voice rang through the fields.

“Y/N! You done embarrassing yourself, or are you staying in the mud all day?”

Jungwon let out a low chuckle, and you sighed dramatically. “Great. My whole family’s against me now.”

Jungwon gave you one last teasing glance before turning to walk away. “Welcome to the countryside.”

As he disappeared into the fields, you couldn’t help but watch him for a moment longer than necessary. There was something about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

And somehow, you had the strange feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time he got on your nerves.

The following days followed a steady rhythm. Mornings were filled with the sounds of roosters crowing and the chatter of your relatives preparing for the day. Afternoons were slower, drenched in the golden warmth of the sun, where people found shade under the trees or cooled off with sweet, icy drinks. Evenings were lively, dinners filled with laughter, children running around barefoot, and the sky bursting with stars so bright they almost didn’t seem real.

And somewhere in between all that, is Jungwon.

You saw him more often than you expected.

At first, it was just in passing. Him walking by your cousin’s house to borrow tools, him unloading sacks of rice from a truck, him helping the elders repair fences or lifting baskets filled with freshly harvested crops. You told yourself it was just coincidence, but deep down, you were starting to notice him a little too much.

And unfortunately, he seemed to notice you too.

“You look miserable.”

You turned from where you were standing near the edge of the rice fields, arms crossed as you watched your cousins work. Jungwon stood beside you, hands in his pockets, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I’m not miserable,” you huffed. “I’m observing.”

“Observing what?”

You hesitated. “Just… how they work.”

Jungwon smirked. “You’re waiting for another chance to embarrass yourself, aren’t you?”

You scowled. “That was one time.”

“And yet, unforgettable.”

You sighed dramatically. “Are you always this annoying?”

“Only when it’s fun.”

You shot him a glare, but he only grinned. There was something frustrating about how effortlessly he could get under your skin. He was never cruel, never outright mocking. But he had a way of teasing you that made you feel like you were constantly playing a game you didn’t realize you signed up for.

Still, you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand.

“So, what do you do?” you asked, tilting your head. “Besides making my life difficult.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You mean here?”

“I mean in general.”

He hummed, as if considering whether or not he wanted to answer. “A little bit of everything.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s vague.”

“Maybe I like being vague.”

You scoffed. “That’s not fair. You ask me all these questions about my life, but you barely give me anything about yours.”

Jungwon shrugged, his lips curling up in amusement. “Maybe I just enjoy hearing you talk.”

That caught you off guard. For a split second, your brain short-circuited, unsure of whether he was messing with you or if there was something else hidden in his words. You opened your mouth to fire back, but before you could, he reached out and flicked a strand of your hair.

“You’ve got straw in your hair,” he said, smirking as he walked away. “City girl.”

You stood there, watching his retreating figure, heart pounding in a way you weren’t sure you liked.

Despite your best efforts, your interactions with Jungwon only increased.

He seemed to have a knack for appearing wherever you were. If you helped prepare meals in the kitchen, he’d conveniently show up to grab a drink. If you sat outside with your cousins, he’d stroll past, making some comment that sparked a new round of teasing from your family. If you took a walk through the fields in the late afternoon, he’d somehow always be nearby, throwing a casual, “Getting used to the bugs yet?” your way.

And then, there were the quieter moments.

One evening, you found yourself sitting on the wooden steps of your cousin’s house, sipping on a cup of cold coconut juice. The air was cooler now, the scent of the day’s labor fading into the crispness of the night.

Jungwon sat down beside you without a word, stretching his legs out in front of him. He rolled the drink in his hands before taking a slow sip. For once, he wasn’t teasing you.

“You like it here?” he asked after a while, his voice quieter than usual.

You glanced at him. “Yeah. It’s peaceful.”

He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head up to the night sky. “Too peaceful.”

You frowned. “Too peaceful?”

Jungwon tapped his fingers against the side of his cup. “I don’t know. I guess I like a little… action.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “What, you want car chases and explosions in the middle of the rice fields?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Not exactly. Just… something unpredictable. Something fast. Something that makes your heart race.”

Your brows furrowed as you studied him. He didn’t seem like someone who belonged in a place like this, but this was the first time he actually admitted it.

“You get bored here, don’t you?” you asked, watching for his reaction.

Jungwon leaned back on his elbows, gaze fixed on the sky. “Let’s just say… I’m not used to staying still.”

Something about the way he said it made you pause. You wanted to ask more, why he was here in the first place, what kind of life he usually lived, but you hesitated.

Instead, you swirled your drink in your hands. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think I prefer the quiet.”

Jungwon smirked, turning to you. “Yeah, I can tell. You like your little slow mornings, your countryside sunsets, your cozy little routines.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Just… different.”

Silence settled between you for a moment, not exactly awkward, but filled with something unspoken.

Then, Jungwon nudged your knee with his. “But I bet even you wouldn’t mind a little excitement sometimes.”

You scoffed. “Excitement like what?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Something thrilling. Like running through the rain, chasing something you’re not supposed to have, breaking a rule or two.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds illegal.”

Jungwon grinned. “Depends.”

You shook your head, amused. “You’re something else, Jungwon.”

“I try.”

And for the first time, sitting there under the starry sky, you started to wonder what exactly it was he was running toward, or running from.

The night stretched on in silence, but your mind was restless. Jungwon’s words lingered in the air, as if they held more weight than he let on.

You glanced at him, his face partially illuminated by the glow of the lantern hanging near the doorway. He was staring straight ahead, the usual playfulness in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something quieter.

“You know,” you started, swirling the last bits of your drink, “you never really talk about yourself.”

Jungwon smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes this time. “I thought you liked mysteries.”

You huffed. “I like solving them.”

He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Figures.”

A breeze rolled through, rustling the banana leaves nearby. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to piece him together. He wasn’t from here, that much was obvious. He wasn’t like your cousins, who had spent their entire lives in the countryside. He moved differently, spoke differently, carried himself like he had seen things, lived through things that didn’t belong in a place like this.

And yet, here he was.

“Are you running from something?” you asked, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.

Jungwon finally looked at you, his gaze unreadable. For a second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer.

Then, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I wouldn’t say running.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then what?”

He exhaled, watching the lantern light flicker. “Looking.”

“For what?”

Jungwon tapped his fingers against his knee, as if debating how much to say. Then, with a slight shrug, he murmured, “Something worth staying for.”

Something about the way he said it made your breath hitch.

You didn’t know why, but your heart beat a little faster at those words.

“You make it sound like nothing has ever been worth staying for,” you said quietly.

Jungwon didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned back, stretching his arms before giving you a small, lopsided grin, like he was trying to shake off whatever weight had settled on his shoulders.

“I guess I just haven’t found it yet,” he said.

You swallowed. There was something bittersweet about his tone. You wanted to press further, to ask what places he’d been, what he had seen, what had made him so restless. But something told you he wouldn’t answer, not tonight.

So instead, you forced a smirk and nudged his shoulder. “Well, good luck with that, wanderer.”

Jungwon chuckled. “Wanderer, huh?”

“You don’t stay in one place, you’re constantly looking for something… the name fits.”

He tilted his head, considering. “I guess that makes you the opposite, then.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

Jungwon turned to you, the lantern’s warm glow reflecting in his dark eyes. “You want roots. Stability. A quiet life. You’re the kind of person who dreams of staying.”

You parted your lips, surprised at how easily he read you.

“…Yeah,” you admitted. “I do.”

Jungwon hummed, a knowing look in his eyes. “Guess that means we’re different, huh?”

You stared at him, your fingers tightening around your cup.

Different.

So why did it feel like, despite that difference, you were being pulled toward him anyway?

The stars twinkled above you, oblivious to the growing tension between the two of you. Somewhere in the distance, cicadas hummed, filling the silence.

You looked away first. “Yeah. We are.”

But for some reason, it didn’t feel like a bad thing.

The days blurred into each other, and before you knew it, your one-month stay was nearing its end.

You tried not to dwell on it too much. You busied yourself with your little cousins, indulging them with stories of the city and answering their endless questions. You helped out in the house, assisted in small village errands, and even tried your best to get used to working in the fields, though that part was still a disaster.

And then there was Jungwon.

Somehow, without meaning to, he had become a part of your everyday life. He was there in the mornings, showing up at your cousin’s house to borrow something, throwing a teasing remark your way. He was there in the afternoons, passing by while you played with the kids, making fun of your storytelling skills. And he was there in the evenings, sitting on the wooden steps with you, sharing drinks and small conversations under the stars.

But as the days passed, you couldn’t ignore the shift in the air. The teasing never stopped, but there were moments now—small, fleeting ones, where the playfulness softened, replaced by something else.

Like when he lingered just a little longer when handing you something.

Like when his gaze held yours for a second too long before he looked away.

Like when he stopped teasing you and instead just… listened.

It terrified you.

Because you knew this wouldn’t last.

One evening, as the sky burned with the last light of the sunset, you found yourself walking along the edge of the rice fields. The golden stalks swayed gently, whispering secrets to the wind. Jungwon was walking beside you, hands in his pockets, his usual easygoing expression in place.

“You’re quiet today,” he remarked.

You kicked at a stray pebble on the dirt path. “Just… thinking.”

“About?”

You hesitated. “Leaving.”

Jungwon didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he kept his gaze forward, his lips pressing into a firm line for a brief second before his usual smirk appeared.

“So, city life finally calling you back?” he said, his tone light, but there was something beneath it you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded. “I have to take my board exam. Then start working.”

“Right.”

Silence stretched between you, only broken by the distant croaking of frogs and the rustling of the fields.

You glanced at him. “You’re not saying anything annoying. That’s suspicious.”

Jungwon let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “What, you want me to tease you about leaving?”

You sighed. “No. I don’t know.”

A pause. Then, he tilted his head toward you. “Are you excited?”

You blinked at him. “About?”

“Going back. Getting away from this place.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Were you?

You had been, at the start. The first week here had been difficult, adjusting to the slower pace, dealing with the mud, getting teased for your city-girl habits. You missed the convenience of the city, the efficiency, the movement. But now…

You weren’t sure anymore.

“I should be,” you admitted. “I mean, this isn’t my life.”

Jungwon hummed. “Yeah.”

That was all he said. Yeah.

And for some reason, it made your chest tighten.

You frowned, suddenly frustrated. “You’re acting weird.”

Jungwon quirked a brow. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

You huffed. “That’s exactly something a weird person would say.”

Jungwon grinned, nudging your arm. “Fine. What do you want me to say? That I’ll miss you?”

Your breath hitched, but you forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’m the highlight of your summer.”

“Right, how could I forget?” he teased.

But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Neither of you said it, but you both felt it.

This would end soon.

And neither of you knew what to do about it.

Your departure was only days away, and yet, the one thing you hadn’t expected happened.

Jungwon disappeared.

Jungwon was gone.

One day, he was there, teasing you, lingering in doorways, stealing glances when he thought you weren’t looking. And then suddenly, he wasn’t.

You didn’t notice it at first. You had been too preoccupied, too caught up in the last few days of your stay, making sure you spent enough time with your cousins before leaving. But then a whole day passed without seeing him. Then another. And another.

At first, you brushed it off. Maybe he was busy. Maybe his family needed him for something.

But then you asked.

And the answer sent an uncomfortable chill down your spine.

“He left,” one of your cousins told you, chewing absently on a piece of sugarcane. “Said he had something urgent to take care of.”

You stared at them, the words sinking in like stones in water. “Left? Where?”

They shrugged. “Dunno. Just packed up and went.”

Just like that. No warning. No explanation. No goodbye.

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Figures.”

But it wasn’t funny. Not even a little.

You had spent the last month getting used to him—his teasing, his stupid smirks, the way he made you feel like he saw through you even when you didn’t want him to. You had spent weeks trying to figure him out, to understand the way he spoke in half-truths, always dodging real answers with a joke or a smirk.

And now, when you were finally starting to understand him, when you were finally starting to accept that maybe, just maybe, he had become a part of this place for you., he was gone.

Without a word.

You hated him for it.

It burned, hot and unforgiving in your chest.

Because you had told him. You had told him you were leaving soon, given him time to prepare, time to say something, anything.

But instead, he left first.

Coward.

You had never expected anything from Jungwon. At least, that’s what you told yourself. He had been nothing but a fleeting presence in your life, a summer memory that was never meant to last.

So why did it feel like a betrayal?

The worst part was, no one else seemed to care. Life in the countryside moved on, unaffected by his absence. Your cousins still played in the fields, your relatives still sat around after meals gossiping about the neighbors, the sun still rose and set like it always did.

But for you, something had shifted.

You left two days later, not bothering to ask about him again.

If Jungwon didn’t care enough to say goodbye, then neither did you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the bitterness sat in your chest long after you boarded the bus back to the city.

And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had stolen something from you when he left, something you hadn’t even realized you were willing to give.

Months passed, but the feeling lingered—quiet, persistent, unshaken.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That he didn’t matter.

But then, on your first day at work, stepping into the emergency department, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air, you looked up…

And there he was.

Jungwon.

Standing just a few feet away, sleeves rolled up, paramedic radio clipped to his belt, laughing at something a nurse said.

Your breath caught.

Of all the places in the world…

masterlist.

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[ni4lovesu]

school events to script ₊˚⊹ᰔ

⊹ ࣪ student hosted ˖ ʚɞ.

— back to school party : each year an epic party is thrown 1 week before school starts at a student’s house

— halloween party : weekend before halloween, everyone dresses up in their costumes and it’s extremely chaotic and hype

⊹ ࣪ faculty hosted ˖ ʚɞ.

— spring festival : takes place on spring equinox, right before the start of the spring break. essentially a day for students to cut class, destress and have fun! rose petals littered everywhere, flower mazes, bouncy castles, school wide egg hunt, picnics while watching the sunset, school wide bonfire after sunset, school dance in the evening, large picnic area with seasonal foods and drinks, flower crown making etc.

— summer solstice picnic : students relax on blankets, playing a ton of fun board and card games. buffet section with snacks and drinks

— summer festival : outdoor games include watermelon eating contest, slip and slides, bouncy castles, basketball shootout, ring toss, orbeeze fun shootout, and DIY bracelets etc. and refreshments include cotton candy machines, ice creams, popsicles, slushies served in frozen fruit, juice stalls, fruit stalls, bbq chicken skewers, pizza, tacos, frozen yoghurt cup, wraps, hotdogs, corn on a cob, doughnuts, churros, french fries, fried carrot cake etc.

— fall festival : takes place annually on the fall equinox and includes activities such as apple and pumpkin picking, apple bobbing, pumpkin carving, outdoor harvest feast, pie eating contest, cornmaze, in season food and beverages, bake off etc.

— christmas festival : a day where we do a bunch of christmas activities such as gingerbread house contest, ice skating, snowman building competition, making diy ornaments and going to fun christmas booths selling small goodies, at night there is a christmas concert consisting of songs, dances, plays by students and one performance by some teachers

— winter festival : a day where we do a bunch of winter activities such as ice skating, ice fishing, snowboarding, building snowmen, building igloos, snowball fights, stargazing. in between these activités we can go to nearby towns and drink hot choco and eat chocolate muffins, pancakes etc.

— new years gala : held annually on new years eve. guests gather out in the school square to celebrate the final hours of the year, culminating in a stunning fireworks display and light show as the new year begins. the evening is simple yet elegant, featuring champagne or sparkling cider, an array of delicious finger foods to start, followed by a buffet dinner with exquisite dishes. guests can enjoy dancing, warm company and festive touches like sparklers, small safe firecrackers, party poppers etc. for added fun. attire is unofficially cocktail attire, and music goes from smooth jazz to upbeat and lively tunes as the night progresses

— valentine’s ball : masquerade ball held annually in february in celebration of this romantic month. the venue is adorned with roses, hearts, and soft lighting, creating a dreamy atmosphere. tables are filled with themed foods and sweets with secret messages hidden within its wrappers. waiters also double as letter carriers, allowing students to send anonymous messages to one another throughout the event

— halloween ball : held annually on halloween day, the venue is transformed into a spook show, adorned with eery decoration fitting the season. students can dance, mingle, enjoy themed foods lining the tables, and explore adjoining rooms and hallways designed as haunted corridors filled with jumpscares, riddles, and puzzles to go through in exchange for candy. scare actors also roam the school, ready to give unsuspecting students a great fright.

— lantern festival : the celebration begins with a school wide picnic but as night falls, the focus shifts to designing lanterns and releasing them into the sky. other activities include lion and dragon dances, fireworks display, and rice ball eating competitions

— ice cream socials : buffet full of a wide array of ice cream flavors, a toppings bar, cookies and brownies for crafting personalized ice cream sandwiches, a float station, as well as specialty gelato, sorbet, and frozen yogurt stations. people can relax on provided picnic blankets spread out on a field while partaking in a myriad of activities like slip 'n slides, live band performances, photobooths, ice cream eating contests and even water balloon fights

— storybook carnival : making the school a magical world of stories by decorating the classrooms as different books, having haunted houses, cosy hangout areas around the school, book sale + donations, special book-themed foods etc.

— basket auction : people place bids on baskets filled with food to win the opportunity to have a picnic with the basket owner and its contents

— workshop day : students can learn skills such as woodwork, sewing, gardening, or cooking from local experts

— creations week : art exhibitions, fashion show, game development club’s game exhibition, robotics club’s robots, ceramic crafts, music student’s musical artworks, poetry by literature students

— bonfire : late night bonfire by the beach roasting marshmallows, stargazing and talking

— prom : fun dresses, great music, dancing all night, hype band, air conditioned room, good food, cute date

— overseas trips : ski trips in switzerland, london, greece, hawaii, italy, tokyo, bali, etc.

— learning journeys : science museum, zoo, aquarium, butterfly sanctuary, national gallery, art gallery, farm, planterium, petting zoo, historical landmarks, theatre, industry tours, adventure park, laser tag, bowling, amusement parks, escape rooms etc.

— school wide sleepover : games, movie, pizza, endless amount of beverages and snacks, etc.

— arcade night : the school rents arcade games and puts it all around the gym

— school assemblies : w/ school performances that are hype asf, some even by teachers

— school wide paintball fight, annual barbecue day, founders day, volunteer day, sports festival, pyjama day, no bag day, picture day, talent show, cultural fair, science fair, school play, book fair, movie night, trivia night

[lcvclywon]

in sickness and in health

back to masterlist

synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt to comfort

pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship

wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<

A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday. 

Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.

“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems. 

Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early? 

Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.

However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference. 

“What are you doing here.” 

“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.

Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe. 

“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across. 

“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.

“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare. 

“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.” 

Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset. 

“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN” 

That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings. 

Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout 

“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.” 

“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.” 

“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk

“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands. 

“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly. 

“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!” 

“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you. 

Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth. 

You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.

perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang

[daycare-care]

galaxy/Space themed activities

coloring pages

Activity sheets

Quests

Build Your Spaceship

Story: Your plushie crew is ready for liftoff, but the spaceship needs to be finished! Quest:

Make a spaceship out of a cardboard box, blankets, pillows, or chairs.

Decorate it with stars, stickers, buttons, or drawings.

Name your ship! (e.g., "The Cozy Comet" or "USS Snugglecraft")

Bonus: Make control panels with paper and crayons (lots of pretend buttons to press!).

Star Map Seeker

Story: You’re the official star mapper of the galaxy — chart those constellations! Quest:

Look out a window at night or pretend indoors with glow stars.

Draw a star map: connect stars into shapes and give them silly names.

Mark where your spaceship is going next!

Mission Log Journal

Story: Astronaut [Your Name] must keep a mission journal! Quest:

Write or draw what your day in space was like (pretend or real!).

Describe any aliens you met, planets you saw, or snacks you made.

📔 Add Stickers: Decorate your “mission logbook” with stars, planets, or plushies.

Galaxy Ranger Badge

Story: Complete missions to earn your Space Ranger badge! Quest:

Choose 3 missions (from this list or your own).

Make a paper badge or sticker with a star on it.

Wear it proudly or give one to a plushie crew member too!

🎖️ Badge Names: "Snack Officer," "Navigator," "Captain Cozy"

Alien Rescue Mission

Story: An alien plushie is lost on a faraway pillow planet! Quest:

Hide a plushie somewhere in your room.

Follow clues or draw a map to find them.

Bring them to your spaceship and take care of them with food/snuggles.

🍼 Roleplay Add-On: Feed them “space snacks” or wrap them in a blanket!

Moon Camp Snuggle Time

Story: You’ve landed on the moon and it’s bedtime at base! Quest:

Set up a cozy nap spot in a “lunar cave” (blankets or tent).

Bring a flashlight or star projector.

Snuggle with a plushie and listen to gentle music or white noise.

💤 Imagination Tip: Say goodnight to the stars one by one.

Recipes

🍇 1. Galaxy Fruit Wands

You’ll Need:

Blueberries (stars)

Purple grapes (galaxies)

Starfruit or watermelon stars (use a star cutter!)

Skewers or safe sticks

How to Make:

Slide fruit onto your stick in a galaxy swirl pattern.

Add a starfruit piece on top like a magic space wand!

🌌 Pretend Name: “Cosmic Comet Pops!”

🌀 2. Nebula Yogurt Swirl

You’ll Need:

Vanilla or blueberry yogurt

Purple and blue food coloring (optional)

Star sprinkles or edible glitter

How to Make:

Divide yogurt into bowls and mix in galaxy colors.

Swirl together gently (don’t mix too much).

Add sprinkles and call it stardust!

🥄 Serve With: Space spoons (glittery or decorated with stickers)!

🍪 3. Moon Rocks (Snack Bites)

You’ll Need:

Rice Krispies treats or small cookies

White or purple icing

Crushed rock candy or edible glitter

How to Make:

Coat treats in icing.

Sprinkle glitter or candy on top.

Let sit until they look like little moon rocks!

🌑 Little Fun Tip: Hide one and go on a moon rock “mission!”

🛸 4. Alien Toast Faces

You’ll Need:

Bread, toaster waffles, or rice cakes

Cream cheese, yogurt, or nut butter

Sliced fruit (bananas, berries, grapes)

Sprinkles or googly candy eyes (optional)

How to Make:

Spread your base topping.

Use fruit to make a silly alien face!

Add “antennae” with pretzel sticks or cereal loops.

👽 Play Add-On: Interview your toast alien before you eat it!

🌙 5. Planet Popcorn

You’ll Need:

Popped popcorn

Melted white chocolate or candy melts (dyed blue, purple, or pink)

Sprinkles or star sugar

How to Make:

Spread popcorn on a tray.

Drizzle with colored chocolate.

Toss with sprinkles and let cool.

💫 Pretend Name: “Pluto Puffs” or “Meteor Munch!”

[bloomzone]

A PROGRAM OF A HEALTHY DIET

(with idea)

- inspired by Korean idols !

By: ★﹕byeolgιrᥣ﹒

"Take care of yourself, That's the priority, You can only recieve love if you love yourself, I hope you think of yourself as a priority, Then people around you will love you"

- Jang Wonyoung

Breakfast:

1. Overnight oats with almond milk, chia seeds, sliced banana, and a drizzle of honey.

2. Whole grain cereal with skim milk, topped with mixed berries and a sprinkle of flaxseeds.

3. Veggie omelette made with bell peppers, onions, and mushrooms, served with whole grain toast.

4. Smoothie bowl with blended spinach, frozen mixed berries, Greek yogurt, and a handful of granola.

Mid-Morning Snack:

1. Sliced cucumber and cherry tomatoes with hummus.

2. Rice cakes with avocado mash and a sprinkle of black pepper.

3. Cottage cheese with sliced strawberries and a drizzle of balsamic glaze.

4. Whole grain crackers with tuna salad (made with Greek yogurt instead of mayo) and cucumber slices.

Lunch:

1. Quinoa salad with diced mango, black beans, diced bell peppers, and a lime vinaigrette dressing.

2. Whole wheat wrap filled with grilled chicken, lettuce, tomato, avocado, and mustard.

3. Lentil soup with a side of mixed greens salad and a whole grain roll.

4. Brown rice bowl with stir-fried tofu, broccoli, carrots, and a teriyaki sauce.

Afternoon Snack:

1. Sliced apple with a spread of almond butter and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

2. Edamame beans sprinkled with sea salt.

3. Greek yogurt parfait with layers of granola, mixed berries, and a drizzle of honey.

4. Air-popped popcorn seasoned with nutritional yeast and smoked paprika.

Dinner:

1. Grilled shrimp skewers with quinoa pilaf and roasted Brussels sprouts.

2. Baked cod fillet with roasted sweet potatoes and steamed green beans.

3. Turkey chili served over baked sweet potatoes and topped with diced avocado.

4. Whole wheat pasta with marinara sauce, lean ground turkey, and sautéed spinach.

Evening Snack (optional):

1. Sliced pear with a sprinkle of cinnamon and a few squares of dark chocolate.

2. Celery sticks filled with almond butter and topped with raisins.

3. A small handful of mixed nuts (such as almonds, cashews, and pistachios).

4. Herbal tea with a squeeze of lemon and a small piece of cheese.

These meal ideas offer a variety of nutrients while keeping the overall calorie intake in check for a healthy and balanced diet.

[evanox]

I don't know if anyone else would find this helpful but I keep running into storage problems and realized I need a List to help me remember which fish I should hoard for cooking and which I should leave to stink up Balor's cart. So I'm making myself a Cookable Fish List so I don't gotta keep going to the wiki

Salmon -> pan-fried salmon, horseradish salmon, salmon sashimi, sushi platter

Red snapper -> fish stew, pan-fried snapper, red snapper sushi

Tuna -> sushi platter, tuna sashimi, sesame tuna bowl

Smallmouth bass -> fish stew, fish skewers

Mackerel -> mackerel sashimi, sushi platter

Crab -> spicy crab sushi, crab cakes

Pike -> fish skewers

Sardine -> canned sardines

Squid -> dried squid

Trout -> smoked trout soup

Cod -> cod w/ thyme

Freshwater eel -> grilled eel rice bowl

Lobster -> lobster roll

King crab -> seafood snow pea noodles

Bonito -> seafood snow pea noodles

Herring -> seafood snow pea noodles

Perch -> perch risotto

Sea bream -> sea bream rice

Crayfish -> crayfish etouffee

Shrimp -> deluxe curry

Catfish -> breaded catfish

Bream

[amyzworldds]

Oh this is out of the happy/fluff side of the 14th member lol maybe if yn sneaks out again she'll be on a real accident maybe danger and she'll finally learn her lesson and her calling scoups for help FINALLY loll and total chaos and him panicking (little bit of angst) (I'd understand if you won't write this just an idea HAHAHAHHA)

Part Two: Night Market Nightmare

Masterlist | Part 1

Seventeen's Seungcheol takes Y/N to his hometown on a rare day off, sparking a whirlwind of chaos as she overpacks, showers his dog Kkuma with affection, and turns his car into a glittery shrine. Their misadventure escalates from a midnight ice cream run to a lively night market, but takes a dark turn. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Humor, Heavy angst (mention of harassment)

The midnight air was crisp as Seungcheol and Y/N slipped out of the house, her arm looped through his like a koala clinging to a tree. They hit the convenience store, Y/N darting straight for the ice cream freezer, snagging a chocolate cone, then piling on gummies and a candy bar despite Seungcheol’s stern “Ten minutes, Y/N—ten minutes!” She just smirked, licking her cone, “Sure, oppa—ten minutes is forever!” He sighed, already sensing defeat as her “ten-minute” promise evaporated like smoke.

The cashier—a lanky college kid with a grin—rang them up, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Hey, you’re from Seventeen, right? There’s a new night market five minutes away—street food, a park, live bands. You’d love it!” Y/N’s eyes lit up like fireworks, her ice cream dripping forgotten as she gasped, “Night market?! Street food?! Bands?! Oppa, we have to go!”

“No!” Seungcheol snapped, shoving change into his pocket. “We’re going home—ice cream was the deal!”

But Y/N unleashed the full arsenal—puppy eyes, clasped hands, and a pleading whine. “Pleeeease, Coups oppa! It’s a night market—I’ve never been to one! Think of the food—the fun! I’ll make you my favorite member forever! I’ll do anything you say—no more trouble, I swear on Kkuma’s tiara! Days off are rare—let’s live a little, away from the spotlight!”

He glared, arms crossed, but her logic gnawed at him. Rest days were rare, and she looked like a kicked bunny in that sleeper. “Fine,” he growled, throwing his hands up. “But no chaos—or you’re grounded ‘til you’re 30!”

“Yes!” she cheered, latching onto his shirt like a human GPS—directionless as ever—and dragging him toward the market. “You’re the best, oppa—top of my list!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, trudging after her. “Famous last words.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

The night market buzzed despite the hour—stalls glowed with fairy lights, crowds munched on skewers, and a band strummed on a tiny stage. Y/N’s ice cream vanished in record time, her eyes locking onto a tanghulu vendor—glossy strawberry skewers glistening like jewels. “Tanghulu! Oppa, now!” she squealed, yanking him over. He paid, grumbling, “Slow down—you’ll bankrupt me!”—but she was already off, darting to a tteokbokki stall, then a hotteok cart, him trailing like a tired wallet on legs.

The band kicked into a lively tune, and Seungcheol paused, watching them strum on their rickety stage. Memories hit—Seventeen’s early days, small gigs, big dreams. “Huh,” he mused, lost in nostalgia. “We started like that—now it’s arenas and world tours.” He didn’t notice Y/N’s grip slip from his shirt, her bunny headband bobbing away into the crowd.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N, meanwhile, had spotted a sausage-and-rice-cake skewer vendor and bolted, drooling, “Sausage heaven—gimme!” She snagged one, then darted to a fish cake stall, then a corn dog cart—arms piling up with greasy goodies, oblivious to Seungcheol’s absence. She chattered to herself, “Oppa’s gonna love this—wait ‘til he tries the—” She turned, arms overflowing, and froze. No Seungcheol. Just a sea of strangers. “Oppa?!”

Panic hit like a freight train. “Oh no, oh no, oh NO! I promised him a fun night—no trouble! Where is he?!” Her phone? Back in her room. Her wallet? With him from the convenience store run. She spun in circles, skewers wobbling, a tteokbokki stick nearly impaling a passerby. “Coups oppa! Don’t leave me! I’m lost—again!” She took a frantic bite of her corn dog, muttering, “Okay, stay calm—food helps!”—but her eyes darted wildly, bunny ears flopping like distress signals.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Seungcheol, meanwhile, had clocked her absence the second the band’s song ended. He scanned the crowd—easy peasy, her bunny headband glowed like a neon sign—and spotted her flailing by a skewer stall, arms stuffed with food, yelling his name like a lost toddler. But instead of rushing over, he smirked, ducking behind a takoyaki cart. “Oh, this is gold,” he chuckled, pulling out his phone. “She stickered my car, stole my dog, hijacked my parents—time for payback!”

He zoomed in, snapping pics—Y/N biting a sausage skewer mid-panic, sauce dripping down her chin, yelling, “Coups oppa, where are you?! I’m doomed!” He stifled a laugh, filming as she spun into a cotton candy stall, nearly toppling it, squeaking, “Help! I’m a lost idol—someone save me!” A tteokbokki skewer fell, and she dove for it, wailing, “Nooo, my food! This is your fault, oppa—wherever you are!”

Seungcheol doubled over, wheezing silently behind a trash can. “She’s a walking disaster—look at her go!” He caught her tripping over her own bunny slippers, juggling her haul, muttering, “He’s gonna ground me forever—I swore no trouble! Why me?!” A hotteok slipped, and she caught it with her mouth mid-air, chewing through her freakout. “At least I’ve got food—don’t cry, Y/N, don’t cry!”

He snapped a close-up—her sauce-smeared face, bunny ears askew, eyes wide as she shouted, “Seungcheol, you jerk! I’m telling Eomma you abandoned me!” He cackled, nearly dropping his phone. “This is better than any game—revenge is sweet!”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N stumbled into a balloon vendor, arms trembling under her food tower, whimpering, “He’s gone—he ditched me! I’m a night market orphan!” She bit into her tanghulu, sugar crunching as she scanned the crowd, oblivious to Seungcheol tailing her, filming her every flop. A kid pointed, giggling, “Look, bunny lady’s lost!” and she waved a skewer at him, “Shush, tiny human—I’m a star in crisis!”

Seungcheol, now crouched behind a kimchi pancake stall, wiped tears of laughter. “She’s a sitcom—‘Lost Gremlin: The Food Chronicles’! She’ll never live this down!” He zoomed in as she tripped again, catching a fish cake mid-fall, yelling, “Coups oppa, you owe me ten tanghulus for this!”

He grinned, savoring the show. Her car stickering? Kkuma’s betrayal? Parents’ favoritism? This was his masterpiece—watching her panic, sauce-drenched and bunny-eared, was the revenge of the century. “Wander on, chaos queen,” he whispered, snapping one last pic. “I’ve got enough blackmail for a lifetime!”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s panic had morphed into exhaustion as she wove through the thinning night market crowd, her arms aching from her food haul—tanghulu, tteokbokki, a half-eaten corn dog. She spotted a bench tucked away in a dim corner, far from the bustle, and sighed, “Coups oppa’ll find me—he always does.” She plopped down, setting her snacks beside her, and nibbled on a sausage skewer, rehearsing her apology. “Sorry, oppa—I didn’t mean to ditch you… I’ll clean your car, I swear…” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t notice the shadow creeping closer—a man who’d been trailing her, unnoticed, through the market.

She was mid-bite when he sat beside her, too close. She glanced up, expecting Seungcheol’s familiar scowl, and froze. It wasn’t him. The man’s eyes bored into her, dark and unblinking, and he rasped, “Y/N… I’ve been following you all night.” Her stomach dropped—she knew that face. The sasaeng who’d plagued her for months, flooding her phone with calls, lurking outside schedules, his creepy letters stuffed with warped devotion. Her breath hitched, and she shifted to stand, but his hand clamped onto hers, yanking her into a forced hug.

“Let go!” she yelped, shoving at his chest, tears pricking her eyes as his grip tightened. “Seungcheol! Help!” Her voice cracked, desperate, as she clawed at his arms. “Get off me, or I’ll scream—I swear I will!” Her threats shook with sobs, her bunny headband slipping as she thrashed, tears streaming down her face.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Seungcheol had been hunched behind a stall, chuckling at his phone’s gallery of Y/N’s panicked antics—her sauce-smeared face, her flailing arms—when a chill cut through his amusement. He glanced up, and she was gone. The spot where she’d been juggling food was empty. “Where’d she go?” he muttered, pocketing his phone, unease prickling his spine. His revenge prank felt trivial now—he scanned the food tents, heart ticking faster with each empty corner. “Y/N? Come on, kid, don’t hide…”

No bunny ears, no jangling trinkets. Then his eyes caught the darker edge of the market—a shadowed bench—and his gut twisted. Something was wrong. His feet moved before his brain caught up, dragging him toward the gloom. That’s when he saw her—trembling, sobbing, locked in a stranger’s embrace, her cries piercing the night. “Seungcheol!”

Rage exploded in his chest, blackening his vision. He didn’t think—just ran, fists clenched, and slammed into the man with a roar. His punch landed square on the stalker’s jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground with a sickening thud. “Get your hands off her!” Seungcheol bellowed, looming over him, fist raised for another blow, knuckles already red.

Y/N stumbled free, gasping, and the man staggered up, fury twisting his face. He lunged, swinging wild, and caught Seungcheol’s cheek with a glancing punch. Seungcheol barely flinched—years of pent-up anger at this creep fueled him. He grabbed the man’s collar, slamming him back down, fist crashing into his nose with a crack. “You don’t touch her—ever!” Blood smeared the stalker’s face, but Seungcheol didn’t stop, pinning him as he thrashed, every hit a release of the fear he’d buried for Y/N’s safety.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s sobs choked her as she watched the man hit the ground, Seungcheol’s fist a blur of fury. “Oppa, stop!” she cried, lunging forward, grabbing his arm with shaking hands. “Please—stop it!” Tears blurred her vision, her voice raw as she clung to him, pulling him back. She couldn’t bear it—his rage, the blood, the chaos she’d caused. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry!”

The stalker scrambled up again, dazed but defiant, and swung at Seungcheol’s jaw. Seungcheol ducked, shoving Y/N behind him, and landed a final, bone-crunching punch—down he went, groaning in the dirt. Seungcheol straddled him, holding him down with one hand, yanking out his phone with the other. “Police—now!” he snarled into the call, voice shaking with fury. “I’ve got a stalker harassing my sister—get here fast!”

He didn’t care anymore—company inaction, PR risks, none of it mattered. This creep had crossed the line, and Seungcheol’s protective instincts drowned out everything else. His eyes were black with rage, breath heaving as he kept the man pinned, ignoring the growing crowd.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Police sirens cut through the night, officers swarming the scene. The stalker was cuffed, hauled away spitting curses, while Seungcheol turned to Y/N. She stood trembling, hoodie pulled low, tears carving tracks down her cheeks. He dropped to her side, pulling her into a crushing hug, “You’re okay—you’re safe now.” His voice broke, hands shaking as he tugged her hood up, shielding her from prying eyes.

She buried her face in his chest, sobs muffled, “I’m sorry, oppa—it’s my fault—I dragged you out…” Her words dissolved into hiccups, guilt clawing at her. A police officer recognized them, barking at the crowd, “No pictures—back off!” Another guided them to a squad car, away from the gawking onlookers snapping blurry shots.

At the station, the interview room was cold and stark. Y/N sat silent, head bowed, clutching Seungcheol’s sleeve like a lifeline, her usual spark snuffed out. He answered for her, voice steady but tight, “He’s been stalking her for months—calls, letters, showing up. Tonight, he grabbed her. I stopped him.” His jaw clenched, reliving every punch, every cry she’d let out.

Y/N’s whisper broke the silence, barely audible, “I didn’t mean for this… I didn’t want you hurt…” Her eyes welled up again, guilt crushing her. “If this gets out—your name, the group—I ruined it…”

“Stop that,” he snapped, softer than he meant, pulling her closer. “You didn’t ruin anything—this isn’t on you. I’d punch him a hundred times over.” His throat tightened, anger and love warring in his chest.

The police offered to drive them home, and Seungcheol nodded, guiding Y/N to the car. Her hand trembled in his, head still down, silent tears dripping onto her bunny slippers. He squeezed her fingers, “We’re okay, kid—I’ve got you.” But his heart ached—her cries, her fear, the stalker’s grip burned into him. This wasn’t the hilarious chaos he’d signed up for; it was a wound he’d carry, vowing to shield her from ever again.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The police car rolled to a quiet stop outside Seungcheol’s parents’ house, the midnight silence shattered only by the faint hum of the engine. Seungcheol stepped out first, his bruised lip throbbing, and gently guided Y/N from the backseat. Her bunny slippers dragged on the pavement, her head still bowed, trembling hands clutching his sleeve. He pulled her inside, shutting the door softly, and wrapped her in a tight hug, his arms a shield against the world.

She broke. “I’m sorry, oppa—I’m so sorry!” Her voice cracked into a wail, tears soaking his hoodie as she clung to him, her body shaking. Her eyes caught the purpling bruise on his lip, and she sobbed louder, “Your face—it’s my fault! I dragged you out—if I didn’t, this wouldn’t have happened!” Her fingers brushed his cheek, trembling, and she crumpled against him, guilt pouring out in heaving cries.

“Shh, Y/N-ie, stop,” he murmured, voice thick as he rocked her gently. “It’s not your fault—none of it. You’re safe now, that’s what matters.” His hands rubbed her back, but his own chest ached—her tears cut deeper than the punch he’d taken.

The commotion roused his parents. His mom appeared first, robe tied hastily, eyes wide at the sight—Seungcheol holding a trembling Y/N, her face buried in his chest. His dad followed, concern etching his features. Seungcheol caught their gaze over Y/N’s head and shook his head slightly, mouthing “water.” They nodded, slipping to the kitchen without a word, leaving him to cradle her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Y/N hiccupped, quieter now but still gripping his shirt like he might vanish. “I messed up—I always mess up…”

His mom returned with a glass, setting it on the table, and knelt beside them, wrapping her arms around Y/N too. “Sweetie, no—it’s not your fault,” she soothed, stroking her hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong—don’t carry this, okay?” Her voice was warm, maternal, but Y/N’s tears kept falling, softer now, exhaustion seeping in.

His dad hovered, worry creasing his brow. “She needs rest, Cheol-ah—let her sleep it off.”

Seungcheol nodded, easing Y/N to her feet. “Come on, kid—let’s get you to bed.” She didn’t let go, her hand locked in his, trembling as he guided her to her room. The bunny sleeper hung limp on her frame, her usual chaos replaced by a fragile quiet. He tucked her in, sitting on the edge of the bed as she curled up, still clutching his fingers. “Sleep, Y/N-ie—I’m right here,” he whispered, brushing her hair back until her breathing slowed, eyes fluttering shut.

--------------------------------------------------------------

He slipped out once she drifted off, closing the door softly. His parents waited in the living room, water untouched, faces etched with concern. “Go back to bed,” he said, voice low, forcing a tired smile. “She’s okay now—I’ll handle it.”

“You sure, son?” his dad asked, hesitant. “You’re hurt too—get some rest.”

“I will,” he lied, waving them off. They shuffled back to their room, and Seungcheol trudged to his own, collapsing onto the bed. The adrenaline crashed, leaving a hollow ache. He stared at his bruised knuckles, the stalker’s face flashing in his mind—then Y/N’s terrified cries. “If I’d gone to her sooner…” he muttered, guilt gnawing at him. “I was laughing—playing a stupid game while she…” His throat tightened, eyes stinging. He’d hidden his fear under rage, but now it clawed free—he could’ve lost her.

He grabbed his phone, hands shaking as he dialed Jeonghan, then Joshua on a three-way call. They picked up fast, groggy but alert. “Cheol? What’s wrong?” Jeonghan’s voice cut through, sharp with worry.

“It’s Y/N,” Seungcheol rasped, voice trembling as he spilled it all—the night market, the stalker, the fight, her sobs. “I punched him—over and over—but she was so scared, Hannie, Shua. She’s blaming herself, and I… I should’ve been there. If I’d stopped messing around, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault.” His words broke, a tear slipping down his cheek.

“Hey, stop—breathe,” Joshua said, firm but gentle. “You did the right thing—you protected her. That creep’s the problem, not you.”

“Yeah, Cheol,” Jeonghan added, softer. “You think Y/N blames you? She doesn’t—she’s scared, but she knows you saved her. Don’t beat yourself up—you’re her rock, man. You did what any of us would’ve.”

“I could’ve lost her,” Seungcheol choked out, rubbing his eyes. “She was crying my name, and I wasn’t there fast enough…”

“But you were there,” Joshua countered. “You got her out. She’s safe because of you. Rest, okay? We’ll come tomorrow—Hannie and I will be at your parents’ first thing.”

“Yeah, we’ll handle it together,” Jeonghan said. “You’re not alone in this—go sleep, Coups. Y/N needs you strong tomorrow.”

Seungcheol nodded, though they couldn’t see, and whispered, “Thanks, guys.” He hung up, staring at the ceiling, their words a faint balm against the guilt eating him alive. He’d held it together for her, but now, alone, the fear crashed in—she’d been so small, so broken, and he’d almost failed her. He buried his face in his hands, letting the quiet tears fall, vowing to never let her out of his sight again.

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 30. night market (written)

a/n: this chapter and last were noooot proofread lol

hanni is overthinking this.

she's put on three different tops only to realize that they'll be covered up by her puffer for the most part. she groans as she resorts to a pair of cargo pants and a crewneck sweater. and finally, she plops a cap on before checking herself out in the mirror as she puts on her jacket, pursing her lips unknowingly while examining her reflection.

"you look fine," haerin assures flatly as she approaches. "relax."

hanni rolls her eyes before hyein emerges from the hall, dressed in a fleece jacket and blue denim bottoms. she smiles before walking over, checking hanni out herself.

"look at you." hyein teases, earning another eyeroll from hanni.

"okay, okay. let's go, y/n said she'd meet us there. i'm scared to keep her waiting."

haerin and hyein exchange a look, one which hanni decides not to be bothered by, before they all head out the door.

—

a beanie hugs half of your head and your hands stay in your pockets as the wind blows. the sounds of the bustling street market accompany you while you wait.

you check the time, hanni should've been here ten minutes ago. you bite your lip as you sit at the bench outside the market, illuminated by the streetlight, and stare out at the vendors and people walking in and out.

your phone vibrates in your hand and you immediately check it, eager and just a bit impatient.

hanni: turn to your right!

and just when you do so, you spot a group of three girls headed your way.

the shortest of the bunch walks up to you first, waving happily and the smile on her face travels to her eyes, which scrunch in the corners just a bit.

"hi! i'm sorry we're late." hanni says, stopping three steps in front of you. "someone forgot their phone at the dorm. we had to walk back halfway and... yeah." hanni adds, looking at the tallest girl. she then gestures to the both of them. "this is hyein and haerin."

"hi, nice to meet you." you say, standing and giving them a small wave.

hyein grins. "you're the famous y/n, we've heard a lot about you."

"famous?" you repeat, glancing at hanni, who looks a little flustered.

"she talks about you," haerin says simply, her tone neutral but the amusement in her eyes is palpable.

hanni clears her throught, brushing off the comment. "okay, okay. let's go, i'm so hungry..."

together, all four of you walk through the aisles of stalls. the air is thick with savory foods, but all of you are distracted by the tanghulu and bungeoppang. the younger two of the group let you and hanni walk first, amused by the awe and shock in your faces since you both haven't had the time to walk around.

hanni is walking beside you, close enough that your arms brush here and there. hyein nudges haerin each time it happens.

you all stop by a stall that sells tteokochi, and hanni sneaks a picture when you're distracted with the options laid out. you notice it immediately, groaning before you retaliate by snapping a picture of her mid-laugh.

"seriously?" she says through a grin.

"payback." you reply, taking your phone away before paying for a skewer.

hyein and haerin are clearly here for the food, eyeing each stall that catches their attention. haerin has already bought a piece of bungeoppang and hyein is holding a half-eaten corndog. still, you don't miss the way they occasionally glance at you and hanni, sharing subtle smiles. you don't really pay too much attention to it, but it's obvious that they're here for another reason too—curiousity.

you and hanni, on the other hand, feel like middle schoolers again. you're laughing, joking, and teasing each other as you make your way through the streets. you tease her about how she keeps getting sauce on her fingers, and she fires back about how you need to work on your pronunciation.

the group eventually buys enough food to the point where they have to stop at an area to finish it in place. you take a bite of the rice cake in your tteokbeokki, unknowingly getting sauce on the corner of your lip.

"you're messy," hanni chuckles, grabbing a napkin in her hand to wipe the little speck of sauce near your lip.

there's a weird flutter in your stomach when she does so. maybe it's just the attention to detail that catches you off guard, or how she leans in slightly, reaching over due to the height difference. or maybe it's the way the lights seem to add a glow to her, making her look radiant in a way that catches you off guard.

your cheeks warm—but you decide to blame it on the spice level of the food you've eaten throughout the night.

eventually, the group stops at a convenience store to grab drinks. as hyein and haerin browse the aisles, you and hanni find yourselves in the snack section together.

"tonight was fun," she says, her voice quiet now, just for you.

"yeah, it was," you agree, leaning against the wall. "we've ended up back at the convenience store, isn't that funny?"

she laughs softly, the memory of your first late-night encounter replaying in her mind briefly. "i guess it just loves to pull us back together. maybe it's where the two of us are meant to be," she jokes, but there's a hint of something genuine.

"maybe." you reply, your smile matching hers.

she pokes at you again. “i can’t believe you’re so normal even when you’ve just met your bias.”

“oh shut up. i have to fake that I’m not hyein’s fan. can’t let her know…”

“you’re so—“ hanni chuckles, then shakes her head. “whatever.”

“but i think it’s safe to say you’re my bias now.” and at that additional comment, hanni grins.

the night ends with all four of you walking out with your drinks of choice—you specifically chose a yogurt soda to wind down.

when it's time to part ways, hanni smiles at you. regardless of how dim the light is, it's radiant. you can't help but mirror her, the corner of your lips turning up. it's cold out, but wow, you sure feel warm inside.

"bye y/n!" hyein beams. "you're really cool, by the way."

"yeah, i get why hanni talks about you," haerin adds, her tone still calm but the words make hanni groan.

"alright, let's go." hanni says, pushing haerin into hyein, which earns a chuckle from you. "see you around, maybe at the convenience store again?"

you laugh. "maybe, maybe."

there's something—a feeling, maybe?—keeping your feet planted, screaming 'stay' in the back of your mind.

"bye then, i had a lot of fun."

"me too." you reply, turning around and walking off.

you turn around after a few steps, surprised to catch hanni doing the same. haerin and hyein must be conversing, you assume that after hanni waves at you eagerly.

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[639-hear-me-out-bby]

under a thousand moons | jinu saja

each night, he plays his worn bipa beneath the temple eaves—music born not of glory, but of need, of survival, of something quietly breaking. she hears it from across the city, a melody like a secret meant only for her. when they finally meet, it isn't grand or loud—it’s soft, inevitable, like a thread tugging two hearts closer. in a city that forgets the poor and passes by the quiet, one boy’s song and one girl’s pause become the start of something neither of them expected—and neither can forget.

pairing: kpdh jinu x f. reader (she/her pronouns used) genre: rom-fantasy, timeless love, angst, slow burn (i hope i deliver aaaaaa) rating: teen and up audiences warnings: poverty, emotional vulnerability, animal neglect (implied mention), soft angst word count: 2.7k+ credits & honoraries: inspired by @scribblewytch’s incredible fic—thank you for letting me build off your magic ♡ nabi's notes: this movie has me in a chokehold im tellin' y'all soooo here's my entry to the fandom. to many more!✧˖° ⊹ ࣪ ˖

the bipa had five strings. two were frayed. one never stayed in tune, no matter how often he coaxed it. but when he sat down to play, it didn’t matter. the sound it made was still beautiful—raw and unpolished, yes, but achingly human. like something old and weathered that still remembered how to sing.

each day began the same way. at dawn, he rolled up his sleeves and helped his mother run the small tteok stall they kept on the edge of the lower market row. it was nothing special—just a squat wooden cart, its lacquer faded from too many summers, with a rusted grill and a few baskets of skewered rice cakes waiting to be cooked. they brushed each one with a glaze of sweet soy, let the sugar bubble and crisp over the coals until it shimmered, then handed them over with folded hands. some customers came with kind words. most came and went in silence. a few haggled over every coin. but his mother never turned anyone away.

by midday, the heat clung to their skin like syrup, and the scent of grilled tteok soaked into his sleeves. his fingers were often sticky from the glaze, and the soles of his sandals were worn thin from standing. still, they didn’t complain. that stall kept them fed. most nights, they brought home whatever hadn’t sold and reheated it for dinner.

only after they closed up—after the coals died down and the cart was wheeled into the narrow alley behind their home—did he sling the bipa over his back and make the climb to the temple wall.

there, just beyond the final incense stalls, beneath the tiled eaves that curved like crescent moons, he sat and played. the space was small, no wider than a doorway, but it shielded him from wind and rain. smoke from incense coils lingered in the corners, curling like ghost-thin ribbons around the worn stone. monks passed by in silent rows, their eyes never drifting toward him. not out of cruelty—just habit. to them, he was part of the landscape. a boy and his old instrument, folded into the city’s edge like moss on a wall.

he wore the same clothes each evening: a thin tunic that might’ve once been sky blue, now faded to the color of old parchment, patched at the seams. a ribbon of cloth—once red, now rust-brown—tied his hair back from his face. but the wind always had its way. strands slipped free and clung to his cheeks, kissed by the night air. he never pushed them aside.

around him, the kingdom moved. the scrape of sandals on cobble. the creak of carts laden with root vegetables and late-summer melons. laughter drifted up from the market below, mingled with haggling and half-sung lullabies. somewhere down the slope, a city official barked at delivery boys, his voice sharp as cut metal. and still, the boy played.

not for attention. not for pity. not even for coin—though sometimes a silver or two clinked to the ground from a passing stranger. there was no jar in front of him. no woven hat. only dust, and the long, curling shadow cast by the setting sun.

the music was quiet at first. a murmur. the low breath of something buried deep beneath the city’s noise. it didn’t rise like a grand overture. it seeped. moved. unfurled. a melody not born from memory but from need—notes remembered by the body.

it wasn’t a courtly tune, nor one meant for festivals or drinking nights. it was older. nameless. felt, not recognized. like something that lived between stories and prayers.

his fingers moved not with elegance, but with persistence. each note was earned. grit carved into calluses, calluses pressed into chords. his wrists ached from lifting tteok all day, from the strain of playing the same refrain until it stitched itself into his bones. the pain didn’t stop him. it was part of the rhythm.

"that again," muttered a woman, shifting the baskets on her shoulders.

"always that same sound," her companion said, wiping his brow with a rag.

"like a funeral."

"no," she said after a moment. "like something trying not to die."

a stray cat had taken up residence nearby—a scrappy thing with matted fur and ribs like bent reeds. it limped with every step, its tail dragging like a tattered ribbon. he sometimes fed it. never touched it. but he never made it leave. it came back each night and curled beside him, closing its eyes like it, too, needed the music to stay whole.

when the final note came, it didn’t rise. it fell—quietly, like the last ember giving in to ash. there was no applause. no dramatic hush. only the wind and the continued murmur of the city.

but the air had shifted. ever so slightly. like something had been scraped away, leaving a raw edge where silence used to be.

he leaned back against the temple wall. the stone was cool. firm. familiar in the way old things are—unyielding but steady. the wind slipped past him, threading through alleyways, brushing across rooftops like a whisper. his music went with it, tangled in the scent of grilled tteok, smoke, and rain.

down the crooked street, past the baker’s alley and silk stalls, a girl paused.

she was running errands, a woven basket clutched to her chest. her sleeves were rolled to the elbow, hands dusted with flour. her hair was pinned in a loose coil, held by a carved wooden comb that had begun to slip. people brushed past her, muttering complaints, but she didn’t notice.

her head tilted. not toward him—she couldn’t see him from where she stood—but toward the sound. that soft, distant melody floating between rooftops and lamplight. she had heard it before. every night, as she closed her father’s shop. always that same tune, never quite the same twice.

there was something in it—something that curled beneath her ribs and settled warm in her chest. as if the music was calling to something inside her she hadn’t yet named.

she didn’t smile. didn’t cry. she just stood there, for one breath longer than necessary.

and then she moved.

but her steps were slower now. not heavy. not sad. just... changed. as though the music had rearranged something inside her. smoothed something out. stirred something else.

she always heard it.

and tomorrow—maybe—she would follow it.

she was the shaman’s daughter, her mother, the royal spiritual and physical practitioner to the queen and the women of the palace. her mother’s hands—soft, but stained with oils and ash—moved between this world and the next with a grace that was half-learned, half-inherited. she was the one the queen called upon for warding dreams, easing births, or quieting the tremors that followed sorrow. her words were few, her silences deep. the girl had grown up beside her, tucked into quiet corners of court halls and forest shrines alike.

that morning, she walked the palace path with a woven basket in hand, heavy with herbs and thread. she was to wait by the eastern courtyard, where the garden met the temple wall, until her mother finished tending to the queen’s favored attendant—a young woman who had woken with a grief she couldn’t name. the girl did not ask questions. she had learned to let silence carry its own answers.

she sat on a stone ledge beneath a fig tree whose limbs arched low like old shoulders. sunlight filtered through the broad leaves, dappling her arms and the ground with uneven gold. the breeze carried the mingled scents of jasmine, roasted barley, and sandalwood. around her, the palace stirred with its usual rhythm—slippers whispering against stone, the faint clatter of bowls after morning offerings, the low calls of guards changing posts.

and then—she heard it.

that sound.

the bipa.

the boy had moved closer. she hadn’t seen him at first, but the music reached her before her eyes did. it always did. the thread of melody wove through the morning noise, rising from somewhere near the incense stalls beyond the temple gate. it was unmistakably his—rough around the edges, aching in places, but with a core of beauty that couldn’t be dulled.

she rose slowly and stepped out of the fig tree’s shade.

there he was.

seated cross-legged near the worn stone steps, tucked into the angle where two walls met, his back straight and his hands steady on the bipa’s body. the instrument looked more frayed than ever—its lacquer dulled with use, one string stretched so thin she was surprised it held. yet he played it like it was whole. like it had never known a flaw.

he didn’t play like the court musicians. there was no flourish, no poised performance. his hands moved with the rhythm of someone who knew work: who had scrubbed pots, flipped skewers, stacked bowls, then picked up his instrument. his sleeves still bore faint traces of dark sauce—evidence of the morning’s labor at his family’s stall along the lower market road. she had passed it once. she remembered a woman—likely his mother—turning skewers of grilled rice cakes over hot coals, brushing them with sweetened soy as steam rose into her face.

now, in the hush at the temple’s edge, he played. not to perform. not for coin. but for something quieter. truer. as though the sound was part of his breath, and he simply needed to let it out before it collapsed inside him.

she watched his fingers curve around the strings—not with elegance, but with effort. there was strength in the way he played, the kind born of repetition and necessity. the music wasn’t delicate, but it was deliberate. it resonated.

around them, the palace continued—vendors calling prices, monks sweeping walkways, officials stepping from palanquins—but it all seemed dulled, like the world had slipped underwater, and only the music remained sharp.

her fingers tightened around the basket’s handle.

her mother would appear soon—tall, solemn, cloaked in robes faintly scented with mugwort and pine. she would say nothing, only tilt her head in that knowing way, and the girl would follow. that was how it always went. routine wrapped in reverence. tradition passed like a cup of tea between hands.

but for now, she remained still.

her gaze lingered on the boy. his dark hair, tied back with a faded ribbon, caught the sunlight like thread in a loom. his face was calm, focused—neither hardened nor soft. his clothes were modest, worn but clean, carefully cared for even if the dye had faded to parchment hues. he looked like someone with nothing extra to give, but who gave anyway.

and the music—gods, the music.

it pulled at her, low in the ribs. not like a tune sparking memory, but like a sound tapping something older. like the cry of a crane over still water. like wind through hollow bamboo.

without thinking, her lips parted.

a hum slipped out—quiet, instinctive. a single note, then another. she didn’t sing in words, only tones. barely more than breath. a harmony beneath his melody. not strong enough to interrupt. just enough to thread through the spaces he left open.

her song met his like a second flame catching the edge of the first.

she didn’t know why she sang. only that her heart felt suddenly full—of smoke and sunlight and something she hadn’t named in years. something like longing. something like recognition.

and still, the boy never looked up.

he didn’t need to. the music didn’t ask to be noticed.

it only asked to be heard.

and across the courtyard, standing in that quiet pause between waiting and duty, she answered.

evening stretched thin across the city, staining the sky in folds of indigo and rose. the lanterns along the temple road were already lit, their warm glow pooling on the stone path like spilled gold. a breeze carried the scent of grilled chestnuts, burnt sugar, and the tail end of incense.

he sat in his usual spot, beneath the curved eaves of the temple wall, just beyond where vendors were packing up for the night. the bipa rested in his lap, its wood familiar beneath his fingers. he had just returned from helping his mother. his sleeves still faintly smelled of sweet soy and smoke.

he wasn’t playing yet. just sitting with the weight of the day in his limbs, brushing his thumb lightly across a string. adjusting. listening. breathing. the cat had already curled beside him, tail tucked in, eyes half-closed.

then—soft footsteps.

she appeared like a skipped beat in the rhythm of the street. a figure not meant to be there, and yet exactly right. she walked quickly at first, basket in hand, sleeves rolled from a long day, her hair pinned with the same comb now slightly askew. she looked like someone with tasks to finish, brisk in her steps, measured in her pace.

but then she heard it.

just a few notes, plucked like drifting questions. not a song yet—just a whisper of one.

she slowed. then stopped.

he noticed her before she noticed him. a slight hesitation in her step. a tilt of her head. she stood at the base of the stairs, caught between leaving and lingering.

he hadn’t meant to meet her eyes. but he did.

and something flickered—quick and quiet—between them. not quite recognition. just a shared pause. a subtle understanding neither of them could name.

she took a cautious step closer.

“is that a bipa?” she asked, voice low, careful not to disturb the silence.

“it is,” he replied, adjusting the tuning peg. his voice was soft, a little rough from the smoke and the long day, but steady.

“it sounds like…” she hesitated. “like wind inside a memory.”

he smiled—not widely, but enough. “that’s a good way to put it.”

she looked at the worn edges of the instrument, the curve of its belly, the way it seemed to fit him like a second spine. “i always hear it from down the hill. at the weaving stalls. every night.”

“i didn’t think anyone noticed,” he said.

“i notice.”

another silence stretched—longer now, not heavy, but held. she set her basket down at the stone wall’s edge and sat, folding her legs beneath her. not too close. not too far. the cat, ever territorial, glanced at her, then looked away.

“do you take requests?” she asked.

he chuckled softly. “only if you don’t mind it sounding a little... frayed.”

“i don’t mind.”

she looked at him then—not just his face, but the whole of him. how the threadbare tunic sat across his shoulders. how the ribbon in his hair was more string than silk. how his hands looked strong and worn and capable.

“what you play,” she said, “feels like it’s holding something together.”

he paused. then nodded, gaze lowering to the strings.

“i play because if i don’t,” he said quietly, “i’m afraid something in me might fall apart.”

he plucked the first note.

it rang out, low and full, then trembled softly into the night. the next followed. and the next—until the music unfolded like breath held too long. there were no words to the song, but she understood it anyway.

he played for her—not with grandeur, but with honesty. like unspooling thread from the chest. the sound rose and fell, shifting between shadows and lantern light. around them, the city exhaled. voices passed. the day let go.

when the music faded, she didn’t speak right away.

“do you always play like that?” she asked finally.

he shrugged lightly, wiping his fingertips on his tunic. “only when someone’s really listening.”

she looked down at her hands. then up at him again. “i’ll listen tomorrow, too.”

he didn’t answer. but something in his expression warmed.

then she stood, lifted her basket, and introduced herself.

he nodded. “i know.”

her brow lifted, amused. “you do?”

“you ask for the broken tteok at the end of the day,” he said. “you give it to the street dogs when you think no one’s looking.”

she flushed. “so you do notice.”

he shrugged. “only some things.”

she smiled—not wide, not bright, but real. the kind of smile that made the evening feel whole.

“i’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

then she turned and walked down the path. her steps were quieter now, as if she didn’t want to disturb the fading echo of his music.

and he sat a while longer, fingers resting on the strings, eyes on the place where she had been.

they had met by chance.

but in the way the world stilled for just a breath—just long enough for two people to notice each other—they had met at exactly the right moment.

should i continue? heart, reblog, or interact whatever. i highly appreciate feedback!

[river-selkie]

Recipes for Water Based Kintypes

These are recipes I enjoy that make me feel more otter or things that I think would! This is pretty anthromorphic since I am eating human food, but I hope this is still helpful!

Not taking requests for other types of therians/kintypes since this was a lot of work, so sorry!

Shellfish - Including Cephalopods

Clam Fritters

Grilled Cockles

Clam Chowder

Baked Scallop Shells

Cajun Seafood Boil

Garlic Butter Razor Clams

Bouillabaisse

Spanish Paella

Crawfish Linguine

Shrimp Ceviche

Spicy Stir Fried Squid

Ikayaki (Japanese Grilled Squid)

Squid Ink Pasta With Shrimp

Jellyfish Salad (Putting This Here)

Salt and Pepper Cuttlefish

Raw Oysters on the Half Shell

New England Fried Clams

Maryland Crab Cakes

Lobster Thermidor

Yangnymeon Gejang (Spicy Raw Crab)

Sailor Style Mussels

Seafood Okra

Shrimp Platter

Finned Fish

Cioppino

African Fish Stew

Trout With Garlic Lemon Butter Sauce

Miso Glazed Salmon

Unagi Don (Grilled Eel Rice Bowl)

Oden (Japanese Fish Cake Stew)

Foil Pack Halibut

Tuna Onigiri

Sardine Pasta

Authentic Anchovy Caesar Salad Dressing

Mediterranean Style Fish Soup

Salmon Ochazuke (Tea Rice)

Fish Tacos

Garlic Butter Baked Tilapia

Pan-Seared Halbut with Caper Sauce

Crispy Pan Fried Tilapia

Herring and Pumpkin Pot Pie

Creamy Fish Chowder

Potato Pancakes with Smoked Salmon, Caviar and Dill Cream

Pan Seared Tilapia

Clay Pot Fish and Tofu

Indian Fish Masala

Spicy Green Masala Fish Fry

Spicy Salmon Crudo

Oven Fried Catfish

Lemon Butter Pan Seared Trout

Non-Fish Meat

Fried Frog Legs

Rabbit Cacciatore

Chicken Chasseure

Escargot (Snails)

Human Safe Kibble Recipe

Chicken and Dumplings

Wood Roasted Whole Duck

Peking Duck

Honey, Soy, and Ginger Duck

Doro Wot (Ethiopian Chicken and Egg Stew)

Cantonese Soy Sauce Whole Chicken

Chinese Chicken and Mushroom Soup

Scotch Eggs

Vegetarian, Vegan, and Plant-Based

Wakame (Seaweed Salad)

Tofu "Salmon" (Consider using rice paper and seaweed as "skin")

Beer Battered Vegan Fried "Fish"

Sweet and Sour Vegan "Fish"

Braised Lotus Roots

Korean Marinated Eggs

Caramelized Garlic-Chili Lotus Stems With Mung Bean Noodles

Sauteed Baby Bok Choy (Saw some otters IRL eating these raw)

15-Minute Zucchini, Pea, and Watercress Minestrone

Vegan "Fish" Pie

Vegan "Fish" Sauce

Vegan "Eel"

Vegan Takoyaki (Octopus Balls)

Nori Wraps

Bean Curd Sticks

Vegan "Tuna" Salad

Watercress Soup

Tofu Pot Pie

Seaweed and Tofu Fritters

Vegan Garlic Butter "Scallops"

Oyster Mushroom Skewers

Seaweed Miso Soup

Cold Noodles in Icy Broth

Marinated Bean Curd with Kelp

Miso Garlic King Oyster Mushrooms

Old Bay Potatoes

Egg Fried Rice

Chewy Potato Noodles

Desserts

Hot Buttered Apple

Melon Ice Cream Soda Float

Frozen Fruit Shaved Ice

Lemon Snow Pudding

Summer Fruit Salad

Blue Jello Cloud Mousse

Kelp Nougat Crunch

Frozen Whipped Jello

Taiyaki (Fish Shaped Sweet)

Soda Float

Cloud Coconut Jelly

Haupia (Coconut Milk Squares)

Raindrop "Cake"

Any Shaved Ice

Lemon Posset

Fruit Filled Spring Rolls

Drinks

It stopped letting me attach links so names only here.

Clamato Juice

Alcoholic: Micheladas

Wheatgrass Juice

Cucumber, Lemon, Mint, and Ginger Water

Coconut Milk Brazilian Limeade

Ocean Water Punch

Alcoholic: Seafood Bloody Mary

Watercress and Honey Tea

Kombu/Kelp Tea

Shellfish Broth

Blue Raspberry Iced Lemonade

Hwachae (Korean Watermelon/Fruit Punch)

Agua de Pepino (Cucumber Agua Fresca)

Fish Bowl Punch