#i love miyun

[tyciel]

every day i draw for niche or dead/dying fandoms. oc (miyun, all prns) belongs to my good friend @redromeow ilu bff

[hoseoksluna]

SMOKE, iv. | myg

pairing: idol!yoongi x smoke!oc (ft. jungkook)

genre: angst, heart-wrenching fluff

word count: 6.5k

summary: everything that hurts must begin to stop at one point. 

pinterest board: smoke / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: DOMESTIC ABUSE, oc gets triggered a lot in this chapter, dissociation, anxiety, alcohol consumption, a brief mention of physical violence, religion, praying, jk and oc smoke together.

note: hi, my babies. i'm here with another chapter. i really like this chapter a lot and i like where it's heading, so i hope you like it as much as you do. let me know what yout think. sorry, this is a bit short, but i didn't want to drag it out, esp. if everything that needed to get settled did. i love you all soso much, mwah.

When Jungkook appears, uncanvassed, damp and abysmal, in the field of my swimming vision, I have to stop dead in my tracks to see if my inebriated brain isn’t playing tricks on me. 

He’s sat on the half-wet stone of the staircase leading up to the street where I live. My apartment complex is just straight up, a minute away from where he’s waiting for me, and the wheels within my brain cells begin to whirr and turn, reminding me that I tapped on the crescent moon icon on my phone before I absconded to my girl best friend for a heart-to-heart conversation and a new set of nails. Misty-eyed, I recounted to her the monochrome poetry lines that bloomed through last night between me and Yoongi and wilted in my bare, sleep-cloaked hands this morning while she filed down the freshly baked acrylic powder. The moment she heard the deadly words that were spat at me, she flung her rosy, tiger-print file across her station, got up to her feet without a word and came back with a bottle of my favorite pink nectar in even pinker, fancy glass, certainly not meant for wine. 

And I downed each and every refill in one, singular gulp everytime she moved onto the next step and my hand was free. 

And Miyun… as much as she erupted in her idiosyncratic rage, her work on my nails was immaculate and untouched by her vivid lava. Curses and funny remarks, that yanked the weight off my shoulders and wiped it out using her vigor and red-hot magma, shattered the room until I laughed so hard that the alcohol dipped into my system far quicker than usual. She glued on the crosses I had asked for while I chortled, and she shushed me, breaking into a soft, non-obvious laughter that she tried to keep at bay while her hair fanned around her. Cherry-red, long and lustrous, curling on the smooth skin of her arms. The laughter died down and silence replaced it as she laid down the last layer of top coat over her artwork—and I felt a certain inspiration seize me. 

“What if I dyed my hair red, too?” I voiced it out, a seawave of different kinds of co-existing emotions ebbing and flowing in me. Airiness and offense, care and distance. And they were all roped around the memory of Yoongi in me like the roots of flowers in a colorful meadow soil. Vast and expansive, yet delicate and frail. One sweep of the wind’s harsh breath and they tilt—and remain tilted. 

I do, too, despite my efforts. 

Despite my ingrained fight to straighten and my strivings to be unaffected, unagitated and undisturbed by the way I was disrespected by Yoongi. They were all fruitless, however. Barren of my long-exercised resilience against the violence of men, my wariness and vigilance of them only strengthening. 

He took me to the far north side of paradise with his tongue and fingers in the middle of the night. And when the sun rose, he treated me like I dragged him to the deepest of hell and left him there to perish of starvation and thirst.

I should have seen it coming and prepared myself for it, especially when I had decided in my heart to take care of him, take care of the deep-sunk, nameless agony in him that prevented him from coloring our stanzas. But alas… it came to face me too soon, in my gossamer defenselessness.

Yoongi metamorphosed into the vermin that Ji-hoon was. His face faded on top of his while my ex-boyfriend’s body remained intact, broad and fear-instilling. And when Yoongi stood up so quickly, I sailed back, against my will, to the sheer realm of brutality that I had dwelled in, years ago. Yoongi with Ji-hoon’s body, abandoning me after I got myself into trouble. For wearing too much make-up, for having long manicured nails, for dressing a certain way that was impertinent in our relationship. He would leave a bruise for every mistake I made to discipline me, to ascertain that I would learn from it and never do it again. And I did learn after I was depleted of color-correcting concealers, the sinews I would use to raise my hands and tap the cream product in, erasing my foolish mistakes from the eyes of Jungkook, Minyun and my parents. 

I fought for too long during the relationship. For my freedom, for my dignity. And I fought for too long after the relationship to go through it all over again. 

I dreaded being hit when Yoongi stood up from my couch. Flinched when he went around the coffee table past me because I anticipated the swing of his arm with my eyes boring holes into my carpet. I had flexed my muscles to brace myself against the incoming physical pain so hard that I nearly gasped, pathetically, for air when he walked on into the corridor. 

But I still couldn’t look at him. 

Although I knew, rationally, that Ji-hoon wasn’t present, I didn’t let up until he shut the door behind me with a soft click because my body didn’t connect to my clear-headedness. It was caught in a fight or flight response like an ensnared bird. 

And this must’ve been what Minyun was seeing when she contemplated me, paused in the middle of dusting her station clean with her pale-pink kabuki brush. Because she resumed right after once I reciprocated her gaze and curled her lips under her teeth. 

“We can go to Olive Young then, and stop by 7-Eleven after to get some snacks and drinks.” 

She reflected on my wound and didn’t hesitate to cradle my head and bring me to a safe refuge. 

And I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her and hug her until all those oxymoronic emotions, which I felt towards Yoongi, dulled in the smallness of me. 

I let her take the lead. Choose the vibrant, deep cherry tint that would annul my trigger and dye me anew. I sipped on my iced cherry drink for the occasion while she glided the brush along my strands, splattering most of the orange paste on the thick wisp of the symbol of my connection with Jungkook, the only man in my life who never used his manliness against me. I thought about him as she rubbed it in; and I thought about Grookey. Thought about how, in that very moment, I was saying goodbye to the self I possessed while being attached to them. 

And when Minyun washed my hair and curled her round brush through it, the stark contrast to who I was before overwhelmed me so much that I began to weep. 

I couldn’t recognize myself, I didn’t know who that girl in the mirror was. But something told me that she was stronger than who I used to be. And while it felt petrifying to be standing alone in the crook of my past self and my current self, the longer I gaped at myself, the more I adapted to the assurance that she was emanating. 

She wasn’t going to take any shit from any man ever again. Certainly not with darkly, sequoia-kissed hair like that.

Minyun brushed her thumbs under my eyes and shifted me deeper into the refuge by grabbing my shoulders and guiding me to her balcony, where she sat me down on her chair while she crouched in front of me. Sliding a tiny cigarette into her IQOS and taking a puff, she leaned over to the square table and grabbed her pack, nudging a longer, classic cigarette between my chapped lips. 

I never smoked on my own. I would take hits from her slender, pink case of flavored air or steal her cigarettes when I had enough buzz from the alcohol in my veins. Forget about it the following days and weeks that we wouldn’t see each other because I was such a hermit. But I didn’t want to be one anymore—I wanted to spend more time with her from now on. With Jungkook, too. 

“You look so pretty with your new hair,” Minyun said, sweetly, leaning back on her sock-clad heels in her Louis Vuitton slides, wrapping her arm around her knees like I did around my chest last night, and I inhaled her compliment along with the drag of her cigarette. “We’re twins now.” 

I had become such a fragile egg shell that her words multiplied in me as they settled in my lungs, bursting and imbuing me with pigments of confidence. And I beamed through my tears, a light protruding through clouds, as I exhaled the smoke. 

It felt as natural as breathing—to claim her cigarettes and make them a thing of my own. 

In place of Grookey. 

It’s what Jungkook spots first, instead of my hair, once he senses my presence and lifts his head, standing up to his feet, towering over me. And he must’ve been waiting for a long time because his scolding words are flung out first before anything else.

“Where have you been? Do you know how scared I was? I called you up. I rang your doorbell and you wouldn’t answer. All day.” 

I take a long drag just to stabilize myself, gratitude unfolding in my sternum for the way he isn’t manly. 

He’s merely caring. 

Hovering above me, moving his arms in my proximity, features stern in his soft manner, and yet I’m not threatened by my fear because I know him, because I trust him. Trust that everything about him is securely soft and boy-like, round and endearing—even when he raises his voice a little at me. 

Minjun and I took another bottle of rosé to her balcony that we finished by passing it to each other and smoking like there was no tomorrow, so the liters of the nectar that flit in my bloodstream elevate how I see him and my body is naturally inclined to do something I normally wouldn’t do. 

And much to Jungkook’s surprise and a little bit to his dismay, I listen to that hushed tone of my heart and obey it—discovering that it is an aid and nothing else. 

“Since when do you—” 

I silence his stupid, yet valid question by wrapping my arms around his neck, careful not to nip his skin with the hot prickle of the cigarette. Its orange tip envelops us in a soft glow in the middle of the darkening evening, the smoke surrounding us like a protection ring. It takes three beats of my heart—which in reality must be his and surely not mine considering the numbness that has descended, fully, in me—for his arms to move and swathe me in complete safety. 

He’s rescuing me, like Minyun did. Bouncing off of her and finishing the job, without knowing a thing about it. 

We become one, singular form of a penumbra, dressed as we are in this unlit shade. Jungkook with his cargos and baggy sweatshirt; me with my tracksuit that’s too big for me. His neck is cold and I scatter a little bit of my warmth upon that skin, regretful that he waited for me this long because of my foolish forgetfulness. 

My dearest boy best friend. 

I squeeze him harder and Jungkook buries his nose in my shoulder, fisting the fabric of my hoodie on my back. 

And then, he sniffs my hair. Makes a Korean sound of discovery and surprise. Pulls back just to look at me with narrowed, inspecting eyes. Drags me to the nearest street lamp—and I watch his eyelids grow to their original, bulbous size. 

Roundie. 

He has noticed my hair, at last. 

Fluffs it and completely destroys the impeccable blowout that Minyun gave me. 

“What the fuck, Jungkook?” I grumble, pushing his hand away, but, like my hoodie, he fists both of my wrists in one hand and sinks the other one into my length, following the diligent curve that Minyun created. 

I huff, and the sound is deadened by the devastating words he utters, disappearing into the prickling coldness of the air. 

“What did he say to you that made you do this?”

I dwell in silence, my numbed emotions leaden, dented and yet sharp enough that I feel their resurfacing pain. 

I look away, untangling my wrists from his hold. Jungkook unclenches his fist, but the ash from my cigarette lands on the back of his hand. I gasp, quick to brush it away, however he’s quicker. Doesn’t make a sound in response. Shakes his hand and steals my cigarette, puffing on it. 

My mouth parts. Shock strangles me. 

He smokes? 

Jungkook’s seriousness droops as he chuckles, dryly, at my reaction. He takes a step back, slides a hand in the pocket of his pants, coalesces into the shadows of the early blooming night. 

“I didn’t know you smoked either,” he says, smiling in that lopsided way of his, a large dent in his cheek. And it feels as though I’m getting to know my best friend for the first time. What else is he hiding? What does he do, in utmost normalcy, when he’s not with me? 

He dips his chin to look at the cigarette before he flicks his thumb across its ivory butt. The ashy particles fly to the rocky ground in tandem with his smile. And his mind travels back to this morning’s misfortune, as rapid as a rocket shooting up beyond the clouds. 

“I’m not giving this to you until you tell me what he said. The last time you did something to your hair like this was when you left that good-for-nothing son of a bitch.” 

A fleck of memory appears before my eyes. Me dousing my hair in black dye with my own hands while Jungkook stood by; him putting my star clips in my no longer virgin strands to distract my tears, me sliding the same ones into his, making a middle part and laughing until my stomach hurt. He had healed me by just being with me, not expecting words, not expecting any explanations. 

Him asking me for them has a great meaning, a certain hastiness that I know full well has a stabbing pain, and I feel his fear, instead of mine. Understand, all of a sudden, why he waited for so long.

And I put him first, just so that emotion unclenches its fist from him. Nod my head to let him know that I’ll tell him, bare my heart for him. 

I walk backwards and sit down on the stony stairs. Jungkook joins me, right beside me. Takes a long drag of the cigarette as if to prepare himself for what I’m about to share with him—and I need the same smoky courage. I take it from him, puff on it and give it back to him. He gives me a gentle smile and I recognize the reason behind it.

A new form of bonding settles between us. 

I reciprocate the smile and gather my words in the brief silence. The wind helps me as it breezes through my hair, fondles my face ever so gently and when I lift my chin at its attention, my eyes stumble across the full moon. 

I breathe in its pristine energy. Let my lungs be full of its beams—and let it cleanse me, thoroughly. 

Jungkook’s patience helps me, too, as he quietly finishes the cigarette, stubbing it out on the step. Ready to listen. 

And so I begin. 

“I invited him upstairs because I wanted to,” I start and realize that I have to come forth with the truth. Deem that he deserves to know. I look inward, quickly, and try to detect any obstacles in me—but I find myself empty, cleansed, a dried fountain with no drops of water, yet I am free. With the alcohol still trickling in my bloodstream. “I didn’t feel sick. That was a lie.” I flick my eyes to his reaction, catch him widening his eyes and parting his mouth and I decide it’s time for another cigarette. I pull one for him and myself, lighting it up for the both of us. “I didn’t want you to know that I got triggered. I’m sorry for that.” 

Jungkook blows the smoke in the other direction, away from my face. He furrows his brows in pity as he leans his elbows on his outstretched knees. 

I expect him to yell at me… but he does the exact opposite, soothing me down to the marrow of my bone. 

“Triggered? How?” he asks, his voice so muted that I barely hear it, lips pursed in that eternal pout of his and mine mirror it, naturally. I appreciate his gentleness so much that I lean the side of my head against his shoulder. And he leans his against the top of mine. 

“I guess I wanted to be alone when I left the room and I found Hobi at the end of the hall. I sat with him for a little while and when he started talking, I realized he was drunk and my body gave up on me. I dissociated like I used to after the breakup. I thought I was better, that I healed from it, but it’s been a long since I was in the company of men, you know? I didn’t want to disappoint you, especially when I’d promised you that it wasn’t happening to me anymore.” 

I hear him take a strong puff and I reflect him, doing the same. Then, he sighs and extends his legs, his back rounding forward. I watch the smoke make patterns in the night-tinged air and I breathe differently, now that I’ve pulled the skeleton out of the closet. And even though my emotions are numb, my softness deepens when Jungkook takes the bony creature into his arms and begins to dance with it. 

“You could never disappoint me,” he whispers, his words the music for the dance, and I wrap my fingers around his clothed forearm, just holding him there, needing it. “You should’ve told me. Did you think I would tell you off for it? Of course not, you silly goose.” 

I chortle, and the smoke comes out in staccatos that are guided by my tender laughter. And he melts it with his following words. 

“How can I help you? Should I get you a therapist? I don’t want you to take meds for it…” he trails off, clicking his tongue and fishing out his phone from his pocket. His fingers move on the keyboard of his screen and the letters I read fracture my heart and glue it back together all the same. “Grounding techniques. Breathing slowly while counting. Different sounds, walking barefoot, blanket, ice cube or cold water—”

My mouth opens before my brain registers what my weakened heart longs to say. 

“Yoongi splashed cold water on my face and neck and that brought me back,” I spew out, tiny tears lining my vision at the memory, at the feel of his cold, solid hands, at the sight of his wide, fearful eyes that relaxed when he realized that I was back in the present times. “He saved me.” 

I blink them away; I smoke them away. 

Jungkook sucks in a breath, clicking on an article about dissociation and scrolling down. “Yoongi and I will be your therapists, then. For free.” 

I look away and withdraw from him, twiddling with my fingers. My heart enlarges, yearns for it—yearns to create a link to his beyond the physical bound we have, reach out for him like a child for its father, but my fear of being triggered again, of being afflicted by his pain slaps its arms away from him. 

It’s not meant to be—Yoongi is not the one for me because if he were, there wouldn’t be any barrier between us. And with that knowledge, my obsession with him, slowly and painfully, dissipates, leaving my frailty and my willingness to help him, if he’d ever need me, in the hands of God. 

But knowing the faces of manliness and ego, Yoongi won’t allow himself to be helped by me. And that bruises me more than the words he flung at me.  

Jungkook senses my absence more vividly than I want him to, and his head swivels in my direction, the article momentarily forgotten. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, prodding me, and it’s me who sighs this time. 

I take the last drag and gaze at the moon as I speak. “Yoongi can’t help me when he needs help himself.” 

The yellowish face of the bulbous planet nods at me and I feel, ever so slightly, at ease, leaning my elbows back on the steps. That is until a lump forms in my throat and, inertly, I ask the feminine luna for her strength, for her resilience, and I ask her to help me become my new self that resembles her so much. 

Jungkook locks his phone and stares at me. “What happened this morning?” 

And perhaps she does nurture me with what I need through her radiance after all because I don’t hesitate to tell him. 

“I wore lingerie to bed that was see-through and when I looked for him and found him crying on my couch, he told me, ‘can you, please, put something fucking on?’ and left,” I unravel, violently, mimicking Yoongi’s coarse morning voice, and Jungkook scoffs, averting his gaze. He sucks hard on the last of his cigarette before throwing it away with the same nerve, shaking his head as he thinks about those poisonous words. Validates me, like Minyun did. 

It takes several heartbeats and several more moonbeams puncturing my sternum before he turns back to me. 

“Check your phone.” 

A wrinkle between my brows. “Why?” 

“Just do it.” 

Without understanding why he wants me to do that, I comply. I pull out my phone from my purse, the light from the screen bathing me in stark blue. Jungkook chews on his bottom lip as he watches me read my notifications from him, Minyun and Netflix. And when I say nothing, he tilts his head and reads them on his own, only to groan and place it in his hands. 

Then, he stares off into the distance. 

“What?”

He takes my hand and drags me to my feet. “Come on.” 

I yelp and Jungkook yanks me to the patch of grass by the street lamp, kneeling by the gravel. And I can’t speak as he builds a praying altar of rocks, leaves and sticks. I can’t speak when he holds it in place and makes sure it doesn’t collapse, as small and sturdy as it is. And I can’t speak when he adorns it with an abandoned, pink flower petal that he finds nearby. Places it on the top of the last stone, against the flesh of the damp, green leaf that is propped by a petite rock. 

And in my silence, once he’s done, he tugs my hand down, sinking me to my knees. Sits back on his folded legs and presses his palms together. 

“God, I know that you know I don’t believe in you. My dad probably talks to you a lot about me, so I’m sure you know who I am. I don’t come to you because of me, though. I come to you right now because my friends need you,” Jungkook prays, his voice mellow and subdued, meant for my ears and the ears of God that I myself believe in, but don’t have a relationship with. I settle down into my respect for his bravery and kindness, closing my eyes, and I feel him enveloping his fingers around mine on my lap. My heart thumps and my other hand finds the way to it—I pin my palm to the left side of my chest, cradling those full-blooded strikes, willing the corners of my mouth not to quiver. “My dad says you know everything and right now I really hope that you know what Yoongi went through. I ask you, sincerely, to give him strength to be a better person. To make sure his feet don’t walk backwards but forward with the girl beside me. I also ask you to help her to not dissociate anymore, help her not remember that son of a bitch, sorry—that guy that broke her. And altogether, I ask you to heal them both. Also, make sure Yoongi mans up a little and texts her like I wanted. Or just do something, anything. Give him ideas. Make his balls grow or whatever. Thank you. Sorry for all I did. Amen.” 

The tears fall and I can’t halt them, nor do I want to. Lightness floods my chest, my mind, spreads all over my bones, and I breathe out in hiccups. I agree with his prayer by whispering the same ending word and when I glance at Jungkook, I see him meditating, privately, on something on his own. 

It inspires me, comforts me and impassions me to do the same. 

I flutter my eyes closed and quieten my breathing. 

Dear God, if I was wrong and this is for me, allow me to take care of Yoongi. Help us find a way towards each other and cleanse my heart from all the pain. 

And then the words spill, my prayer prolonging, and I discern that they don’t root from me, bathed in the glimmer of the moon as they are. 

I forgive him and I’m giving him another chance. Give us the opportunity to better our actions and communicate our pains. Give us the strength to do so. Give us the words. Give us peace of mind and clarity. Thank you. Amen. 

My tears have dried by the time I’m finished with my internal prayer. Jungkook has patiently waited the whole time, holding my hand, and he gives me the lovingest, most wholesome smile I’ve ever received in my life when I face him. He kisses my knuckles and I feel, strongly, that it seals our prayers. 

Helping me stand, it’s him who hugs me this time around. I bury my face in his chest, fisting the back of his sweatshirt like he did to me when I arrived. We remain like this, underneath the lenitive moonlight and the merciful eye of God that I sense upon us. And I know, in the abyss of my weakened heart, that I shall never forget about this moment. 

“Did you also feel that lightness in your chest?” Jungkook asks onto my hair, and I nod, too lost in my brimming, alive emotions—no longer numb, but erupting in tender colors—to answer. Love, thankfulness, delicate joy and that persisting lightness. 

Grabbing my shoulders, he breaks the hug and grins down at me. He glows underneath that street lamp, a pure whiteness lining his form, the tiny twinkling freckles of stars scattering upon his skin and I love him. 

I love my best friend. 

And the more I look at him, the more I’m reminded of the way I put the star clips in his hair and I think it would only be right if he were to wear them right now. 

I link my arm around his. 

“Let’s go inside.” 

The moonlight shone upon our way, ascertaining that we didn’t stumble. Reached a standstill and formed a ring around us when we stopped by the door to my apartment building and had another cigarette together, this time another shared one because I felt as though I had inhaled too much smoke throughout the day. 

The stars poked at my back in our silence, encouraging me to break it, and I did—once it was my turn to puff. I thanked him, earnestly, for the prayer, showed him my nails embellished with little silver crosses, ones he gaped at with utmost fascination before it all spurred something in him enough for him to share with me what went down earlier in the morning after Yoongi left my apartment. 

Crestfallen Yoongi, drenched from the rain, murky, cloud-bearing; the very one I know. Jungkook had to, essentially, extricate him from the force of his innermost downpour, and I waded through the torrent with each information he provided me. 

He was profoundly regretful and made a fool out of himself by choking at the sound of my name—something that made my cheeks ignite with coy flattery and my fingertips to tingle. The knowledge that he rued his actions wove through my prayer and quelled me, my heart and my mind, until there was no ounce of ache that bothered me. 

I entered a state of sobriety, plopping down onto my couch with a small basket of hair ties and clips. Jungkook wasn’t really cognizant of what I was doing as he focused on telling the story, describing, in his teasing manner, the way Yoongi looked like while he spoke of me. The way his cheeks flushed and light burst in his eyes. He was so preoccupied with the task that he didn’t flinch when I brushed his hair with my Kuromi tangle teezer, nor when I put up his hair in two pigtail buns and secured them with matching, violet Kuromi hair ties. 

His hair felt brittle in my fingers from all the bleach the stylist used on his hair. Briefly, I remembered the way he specifically asked her if there was a drugstore alternative to the professional dye and he went to buy it for me that very day and we splattered it on together, with him choosing the strand, of course. I made a mental note to talk about his hair with him later. 

I grew hot when he shifted to the part, where he read to him the message I sent for him. I had cleaned the whole apartment in effort to rid myself of the residue of my trigger, but my care for him remained because I understood where he came from. What I hadn’t known was that after listening to my heart and typing out the message, I would get tormented by my mind so viciously that I had to seek my girl best friend. My care for him sank to the bottom of me and the offense I felt resurfaced, swallowing me whole. 

To know, in the present time, that Yoongi thought it too good to be true, grew smaller when Jungkook began to tell him off, washes it all out and I am a brand new canvas. 

I take off my hoodie, aflame. 

“He really thought about what I said to him and he even put your number in his phone. I visibly saw him opening a new text message and typing something,” Jungkook says, exasperated, and I have to chuckle to myself—he looks so damn adorable with the two minty buns, but he’s still missing those clips. I search for them in my basket, reveling in that fire of his, which his words are permeated with, the heat stifling me. “I thought he sent it to you. I didn’t see him do it because I got a call from Namjoon, asking where we were. We had a meeting right after—and that’s also something I need to talk to you about.” 

My ears perk up and I freeze with the clips in my hands. 

The smile Jungkook gives me this time is cheerless. 

The sweat that coats me morphs into a layer of iciness. 

“We’re going on tour abroad next month,” he imparts and my heart closes. I disintegrate, the clips falling out of my hands. And the stars blanketing the heavens outside must do the same, plummeting to the ground, conjointly, with me. “We were supposed to have another concert tonight, a secret one that would be made into a docuseries, but then America fucking called.” 

That means no hanging out with Jungkook, no star clips; no seeing Yoongi and leaving things as they are—unfinished and still aching on his part. 

And that leaves me alone with my thoughts. 

I pout, my heart dead silent. 

“When will you be back?” 

Jungkook gathers the fallen clips and sets them down upon my open, vulnerable palms. Manages to warm them up in that brief exchange. 

“There aren’t many tour dates. I’ll be back before—”

My phone pings in the kitchen. 

And before I can breathe, Jungkook scurries to his feet and flees. 

Grabs my phone and holds it in front of my face, so the detector can unlock what the notification hides. And once it does and his eyes sweep over the lettering multiple times, he squeals. Springs. Beams like the warmest star he is, personified firelight. And I’m more happy that he’s happy than I’m happy about the fact Yoongi has done something. 

For me. 

Jungkook slides the phone into my clammy hand and I let out a little breath. Instagram has notified me that a certain person that goes by the name agustd liked my post. I smirk, cupping my face, while I click on the notification to see what exactly he liked. Jungkook sits beside me and looks over, laughing, vehemently, through his nose before he starts clapping. 

My stomach jumps, stirring my butterflies awake. 

I’m wearing a knitted set in the picture, nearly pellucid with how stretched out and purposefully ripped the fabric is, and I’m sat on my vanity table in my room with my arched back facing the mirror, my long black hair obscuring most of the sheerness of my spine. 

Is that a truce? Liking a picture where I’m wearing something so akin to the slip that broke us this morning? If he did, then that’s an intelligent move in the chessboard of all toxicity. 

And I like it. 

I blush, profusely. But then another notification rings through my living room and Jungkook stills beside me. We share a look, both of our mouths parted, before he steals my phone, though I slap his back and retrieve it from his grasp, the shifting causing the message to get opened. 

I run a hand down my face. “You clicked on it and now he can see I’ve read it, Jungkook.” 

He merely laughs. “So what? Read it.” 

I groan, tipping my chin, focusing my gaze on the letters, and my heart thrashes in my ribcage. And their meaning propels it to fly on the wings of my butterflies. 

The letters tremble in tandem with my hand as I read them. 

“I’m sorry for my behavior this morning, you didn’t deserve that. I hope you allow me to make it up to you as best as I can. Car drive tomorrow at 8 PM? Food’s on me, you just bring your playlist, moon kitty. And your sneakers. Yoongi. Jungkook gave me your number.” 

My heart stops mid-flight. And I don’t see Jungkook’s eyes abounding in the glow of the stars. Neither do I hear his laughter and his praises for Yoongi because I walk backwards into myself. 

Bring your sneakers. 

I see myself getting hit for wearing heels. I don’t feel the pain, but I have a glimpse of the bruise forming on my cheek, a patch of red and purple staining me for weeks only because I wanted to feel pretty and feminine on our date night. And before Jungkook’s voice can get to me, the echo of Ji-hoon’s command fans out in me. 

You won’t dress like a slut when you’re with me. Take them off. That dress, too. And wear your sneakers. 

I was forced to wear jeans and Nike’s to a fancy restaurant while he sported nice pants and a polo. And much to his dismay, and later to mine as well, I still received stares and smiles. From men and women alike. 

The memory splinters at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. And I perceive that it’s just that. 

A memory. 

I didn’t dissociate. 

And vulnerability clutches me so tightly that I shrivel and don’t think before I fold myself into Jungkook, hugging him until the memory completely evaporates. 

Jungkook pets my head as I bury it deeper into his chest. “What’s wrong?” 

“Just a memory,” I heave, blinking rapidly, and Jungkook holds me to him, sifting his fingers through my hair. 

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, continuing with the movement that intersperses mollification all over my being, and I nod. 

As long as I have my best friend, I will be okay. 

“It happened this morning, too,” I admit, unafraid, and Jungkook stills for a moment. “When Yoongi got up from this couch, I thought I was gonna get hit again. And now when I read that he wants me to wear sneakers, I remembered the way Ji-hoon hit me because I wore heels that one time. But it wasn’t so bad. I didn’t dissociate. Your prayer helped.” 

Jungkook curls around me and holds me tighter, putting me back together, and I let him. 

I let him because there’s nothing else for me to do. 

There’s no one else for me. 

“He’s not here anymore. He’s not in your life. I broke his leg, remember? He can’t walk back into your life.” 

It’s the only memory, where he’s present, that brings me pleasure: Jungkook finding out I was a victim of domestic abuse and chasing him all over the city until he yanked him by the back of his shirt and beat him until he was unrecognizable. He broke his leg by purposefully driving over it with his motorcycle upon leaving, considering the deed done. 

“Every time your bad memories come back to haunt you, remember this one,” Jungkook advises and I pleat his words, stuffing them somewhere inside my sternum, where I can return to them and remember them like he said. Use them as a weapon.

Something tells me that now I shall need it more than I ever have before.

“Yoongi isn’t like him, I promise,” he continues, seeping his boyish warmth into my skin as he cups my face and makes me look at him. I feel as though I have run a marathon with the way I breathe spasmodically and Jungkook sees me, composes me by leading me to take deep breaths that subdue my nerves. “I regretted letting him take you home but for a far different reason. Underneath all that pain is a good person. A romantic that has lost his hope, but if there’s anything I can depend on, it’s the fact that Yoongi will find what he’s lost. And he’s halfway there. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have texted you.” 

I ponder his words, my heart collecting all those stars that have plummeted from the heavens, and, internally, I use their light to help me comprehend the deeper meaning behind his words. A romantic that has lost his hope. I wonder what meadow of agony he walked through—and I wonder how much it would devastate me if I ever were permitted to place my bare feet upon his footprints on that flowery soil. 

“You can trust him because I trust him.”

I slide the star clips beneath the space buns I twisted his hair in and I nod. 

“Let’s text him back.” 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist | READ third part

[flurrys-creativity]

bponding

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung (Ateez) x OC!Miyun; Genre: mermaid au, fluff; Rating: sfw, PG-13; Wordcount: 784; Warnings: none

Synopsis: Koi fish Wooyoung and his caretaker are bonding.

A/N: This is for the lovely @daemour !

Miyun glided over the wooden path along the Eternal ponds. The wind carefully brushed around her figure, letting her gown flutter as well as the leaves around her. The sun peeked through the colourful leaves, letting small rays dance over the ground. 

Despite the beauty of the Everlasting garden surrounding Miyun, her eyes were fixed on the lowered wooden platform ahead of her. It was the feeding spot for the koi fishes. While feeding the koi fishes, was one of her many duties within the gardens, it wasn't the reason she walked up to the spot right now. 

With Miyun's dedication and love for the creatures residing in the gardens and ponds, she actually witnessed a miracle happening in front of her eyes.

One of the koi fishes evolved to become half human - able to communicate and show emotional as well as intellectual traits of a higher being.

"You're late", he whined the minute he noticed Miyun coming to him, his upper body resting on the wooden surface. Wooyoung had his arms crossed and his face placed on them, using them like a pillow. 

She rolled her eyes without a hint of actual annoyance and lowered herself on the platform, sitting down gracefully next to Wooyoung. Miyun’s gaze wandered over his naked back and down to his colourful fish tail. The tail still possessed all the colours it had when he was nothing but a regular koi fish. The vibrant orange contrasted the sparkling black and white parts, making Wooyoung the most ethereal being within this realm.

When her gaze wandered back to his face, she noticed him biting down on his lower lip. He tried to play it cool but Miyun knew how much he loved the attention. She also knew he relished in all the extra attention he received for being the miracle he was.

“I haven’t been gone for longer than half an hour”, she told him softly, placing her hands in her lap. While Miyun had to leave for her other duties every now and then she definitely enjoyed being next to the whining koi fish the most. 

“It felt like forever”, Wooyoung insisted as he rolled on his back and closer to Miyun. He locked his hands behind his head, proudly presenting his smooth chest to her. With the sun glistening over his skin, Wooyoung knew the translucent pattern from his tail would be visible on his skin as well - effectively grabbing her attention.

As subtle as Wooyoung tried to be, Miyun caught up to his play. The hint of a smirk became visible on her face when she leaned forward and placed her hands on the wooden surface right next to Wooyoung’s head. She looked down at him, seeing the excited twinkle swirling inside his eyes. “Forever is an awful long time.”

Wooyoung nodded hecticly to agree with your statement. He grinned proudly, still thinking his play was moving along perfectly.

“You must have felt so, so lonely”, Miyun said with a slight pity in her voice. She barely contained her laughter when she saw Wooyoung nod again, trying to make an absolutely miserable expression. He definitely had to work on his puppy face.

“Is there any way to make it all better again?” Miyun raised one eyebrow, silently daring Wooyoung to say what he wanted from her. She heard his tail splash some water around, indicating the excitement he felt.

“Oh, I don’t know”, Wooyoung stalled as his gaze seemingly wandered around. “It’s really been hard. I’m not sure you’d even know of a remedy for that.” He moved one of hands from under his head, tapping his lower lip in thought with his index finger. Wooyoung’s eyes then landed on Miyun’s face again, grinning almost triumphantly. “You’re my caretaker. You should know what to do in such a case.”

Miyun scoffed playfully as she pursed her lips in thought, drawing the koi’s attention to them. He unconsciously licked his own lips before his gaze moved back to her eyes.

“I think I know exactly what I have to do”, she murmured, her voice only audible to Wooyoung thanks to the close proximity. Miyun lowered her upper body ever so slowly, relishing in the fact his breath hitched and he closed his eyes. “I couldn’t let my favourite miracle suffer.”

Instead of the kiss Wooyoung expected, Miyun rubbed her nose against his. Confused, Wooyoung opened his eyes again. He was about to protest, when he heard her small giggles as she returned into her seated position from before. 

Wooyoung might haven’t gotten the kiss he wanted so bad, but hearing Miyun being so carefree around him was already more than enough for him. At least for now.

© all rights reserved

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland​ @songsoomin​ 

Check out the other drabbles!

[kirakiraprincesssmileprecure]

I love them sm <3

Their so in love in my eyes <3

I love them

No thoughts only Miyune(Miyuki x Akane)

They make me feel sickly happy things

I love their ship sm

[jaces-archivist]

Developing some fanwalker concepts…

Miyun, Explorer of Lost Lands

One is Miyun, an ambitious elf explorer who loves to seek out legendary ruins and historical places. Black/Green, originally based on this post by @ezurad

He loves being the first and only person to claim a place and knowing things that nobody else knows. However, he also delves deep into places because he cares about making sure that these important places are appreciated rather than forgotten - their value doesn’t go away just because they’ve been lost. It’s important to map them out for others to follow. He planeswalked for the first time after receiving accolades for his work on a particular Zendikari ruin. He realized that he didn’t know what was next, and his excitement to go see what was out there drove him to leave the plane entirely.

I think he gets into a relationship with the interplanar seer Samuel and they bond over their love of exploration and seeing cool places. Sometimes Samuel scouts out places with Miyun, and Miyun provides tips for places for Samuel to seek out.

His powerset involves being able to use lost magics and summon historical figures and extinct or rare creatures. He can create illusory landscapes of different places he’s been. He is also pretty athletic, with enough physical enhancement magic to to get around and subsist in these hostile places and conjuring things like climbing gear or knives.

Mechanically he cares about:

-lands, specifically nonbasics or the number of differently named lands you control

-tutoring for any card, maybe legendary ones to be more balanced

-returning things from graveyard to hand and playing things from the graveyard, especially lands

Also, I find it kind of funny that he would fit in with the Lorehold school but is not in their colors at all

Nick, the Stormlucky

Nick was a young lad on Ixalan who was born to a whore and worked for and with pirates his whole life. He has a quiet secret, though, one that others whisper of but don’t know the full truth of - he’s a storm mage, and struggles to quiet the way storms call to him and speak to him. Ships he works on always seem to find storms... but they also always make it out. He unwillingly gets the nickname “Stormlucky”. Later, a ship he is on is attacked, and he planeswalks away in the destruction, eventually ending up with the Prismari mages on Strixhaven. There he learns to appreciate his gifts and becomes a skilled stormsinging bard, returning to become a feared pirate captain on his home plane, known to steer empty ships for ambush with his control over the waves. Blue/Red

Mechanically he cares about:

-vehicles, especially crewing them, making them unblockable, and giving them hexproof or ward.

-summoning elementals, mostly the 4/4s from strixhaven

-shock/lightning bolt effects

-some versions of him have protection from red and blue. the storms are his friends and don’t want to hurt him :)

[Unnamed so far]

A showsman and storyteller who loves infodumping about the natural world and different tactics for survival, originally from somewhere else but absolutely in love with Ikoria. Big zoo presentation vibes. They can inflate or deflate the appearance of themself and other creatures to make them underestimated or overestimated. Their summons and modifications are partially illusory and partially material, like Vivien’s Arkbow summons, with whom they get along like a house on fire. Likely Blue/Green, but maybe Blue/Green/Red

Mechanically they care about: -messing with mana values and mana costs

-giving creatures skulk and/or trample and benefiting from making contact with players

-sometimes giving ability counters for other abilities and +1/+1 counters

-drawing creatures from the top of your library

-counting abilities

-temporary boosts in p/t

[atinystar]

The color it most feels like to be loved by you - Miyun

Gray

it's not easy to be loved by you, you can be a tough pill to swallow sometimes. you do care about your loves, but it's hard for you to show it. it's easy for you to break hearts, and that can scare your loves. sometimes your love isn't a good enough reason for people to stick around, but that doesn't really bother you all that much. i really hope that you find the person who sees your love and thinks "that's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen".

Tagged by: @xxj0kerxx Tagging:  @xseaofrosesx​ @clairdclunc​ @avenuc @dystcpian @mvxnn​ @ghcstmade​

[breadcaaat]

part two

Jeongguk x hybrid!Reader

| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

Words: 4.2k

Warnings: bad language, blood, drowning, nudity, jk falls out of bed

When Jeongguk gets home the first thing he does is cry in the shower, which is a pretty reasonable course of action given the two brutal murders he just witnessed - murders that had splattered blood all over his clothes without his realizing.

He’d only noticed when he got home and saw himself in the mirror. His hoodie and sweatpants were unsalvageable and he’d thrown them straight onto the floor to be trashed later. He could only hope no one had called the cops on him as he walked home. I must’ve looked like the actual murderer, he mused, and it prompted some harsh scrubbing. He wanted to be clean. He wanted to forget everything he’d seen tonight.

And he wanted a fresh bowl of ramen, damn it. He hopped out of the shower and dried off, then put some water to boil.

While waiting for that to finish, he picked his clothes up and emptied the pockets. Wallet, check. Phone, check. Collar, also check. He’d snatched it in his escape from the restaurant on some unexplainable impulse, but now he didn’t know what to do with it. He chucked it on the table, deciding to deal with it later. Rubbing his arms and puffing some hot air into his hands, he realized just how cold it was in his apartment with no clothes on.

The heating was down in his apartment again. He cursed, smacking at the wall next to the thermostat. His hair was still wet and he’d hoped he could just air-dry it, but with no heat he’d have to break out the blow-drier and the extra throw blankets to avoid a cold. Couldn’t he just have an easy night? Just once? He almost cried again just from frustration.

With an extra pair of socks, a clean hoodie, and a belly full of ramen, Jeongguk fell asleep fitfully, and cold.

Rise and grind! Let’s get it! Pop that pussy, my guy! Rise and grind! Let’s get it! Pop that pussy, my -

A head of bed hair puffs out from under the covers, all disgruntled and squinty-eyed. Four hours of sleep. He whimpers something along the lines of “not enough” before fumbling about the sheets for his phone.

- Let’s get it! Rise and -

He stabs at the screen until his alarm turns off, then dumps himself back into the comforter. His best friend - Hoseok - was a die-hard morning person and had recorded that alarm for him after Jeongguk professed to other alarm tones being too boring and not super effective.

Wait - Hoseok. Hoseok.

His best friend was an investigator!

He’d have to talk to him later - but first, work. He blew a handful of won last night on ramen that’s probably still sitting where he left it at the crime scene, bloated and mushy.

“Rise and grind,” he muttered to himself, and then fell out of bed when his foot got caught in the sheets.

The first thing Yeongho says when he sees him is “You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night,” to which Jeongguk doesn’t register he should reply because he didn’t get any sleep at all last night. His boss - Mr. Gim Yeongho, a man in his early fifties with bready cheeks and happy little crow’s feet - is in the midst of manning both the kitchen and the bakery with the aid of his daughter, Miyun. Running back and forth keeps them busy while the wife - a quirky, snappy little woman named Sungyun - takes orders and manages everything else. Busy little bees. Jeongguk’s the delivery boy for this little breakfast place, and he likes it. It may not be super lucrative but his bosses are like second parents, and the pay is better than a fast-food place.

“I,” he started a few seconds too late “ - yeah, I didn’t get much last night. The neighbors were, uh, loud.”

Yeongho wiggled his eyebrows, then guffawed. “Loud?”

Jeongguk blushed and whined a little, and Miyun giggled from where she was manning one of the stainless steel tables, chopping something. “You left that door wide open,” she whispered at him as he walked past, and he mustered up a small - albeit reluctant - smile.

Meandering his way into the break room and clocking in with all the enthusiasm of a zombie, he went to scoop up the keys to the little company scooter only - shoot, someone misplaced them. They weren’t on the rack. Maybe the dude on shift yesterday tossed them somewhere. Wouldn’t be the first time, he thought to himself.

Jeongguk heaved a sigh. Placing the keys on the counter, he leaned down to pull his uniform vest and cap out of the cabinet. It was only as he was putting on that cap that he made eye contact with the very keys he’d been looking for - holding, goddammit.

Lord, he was out of it. He could tell today was going to be difficult; already he was unable to focus and socialize and that’s bad business for a delivery boy. Also “ - extremely unsafe! Kid, d’you hear me?”

He was barely able to say sorry for spacing before Sungyun bapped him over the head with a rolled-up newspaper, knocking his cap askew and toppling him out of his squat and onto his bum. He yelped and she cackled a little. “Aigoo! You’re so cute, like a baby.”

“Why’d you hit me?”

She snaps back from gushing and cracks him over the head with the papers again. He winced. Getting hit with that pot yesterday must’ve left quite the shiner on his skull, but he couldn’t tell her that or she’d fuss over him more than she was about to. “You’re practically still asleep! You expect me to let you out on the roads like that?” She mumbled something about boys being insane then, and then crouched down and patted at his face. “Aish, did you even wash your face this morning? This kid must be stupid, no wonder he’s tired!”

He tried gently batting her insistent, fussy hands away, but this just instigated a comical little hand fight that ended with him taking another newspaper swat to the head.

She stood up - spry as ever - then with a huff stomped out. “Wash your face before you go! Or you’re walking those deliveries!”

Yeongho ducked around the corner a few moments later, guffawing again when he saw the fresh crime scene, Jeongguk the unwitting and frazzled victim. “She getcha?” he asked, and Jeongguk belted a soy sauce packet at him half-heartedly. He disappeared back into the kitchen, still laughing. Music started up somewhere in the building.

With the first round of customers’ breakfasts and bevvies stored safely onto his little company motorbike, he waved goodbye to Sungyun (who’d force-fed him a too-big breakfast and a whole 12 oz black coffee) and set off.

His first customers were a construction crew. He wasn’t quite sure what the project was, only that it was relatively small since they were usually only six to nine in number most days. Tired, crass, and playful, they greeted him like a messenger from god here to split the bread and multiply the fish - or whatever that one story in the Bible was.

The eldest in the crew could be a problem at times, but not because he was mean or anything. Just a talker that talks slowly, ready to teach Jeongguk some life lessons and Practical Man Skills like construction or how to win a proper fist fight. Then he’d reminisce on the first hand fight he’d ever been in, and the last, and some in between, and the talking would go on. He’d honestly love to sit with the man on a porch one day and just listen to him dispense wisdom, but other people needed breakfast.

Those other people - or, the next at least - were the math department of a local high school. They were all pretty drowsy, and not as familiar with him as the construction crew, so that trip was quicker. They pitched in to give him a nice tip, which was nice. Must’ve had some sympathy for how young and poor he looked (oof) as teachers and all that.

Throughout all this, he frustrated himself trying to reign in his wandering, unfocused thoughts. Films rolls of last night replayed in his mind’s eye over and over, dissected and analyzed. He arrived at too few answers and too many questions. Felt like he was running in circles. That, and all the literal running was taking a toll on him; he hadn’t had more than two hours of sleep last night so his energy level was a pitiful fraction of what it'd usually be.

His next stop was always the most intimidating, but only because the area was pretty well-to-do.

As in, rich. Not Gangnam-level rich, but… well-to-do.

Hm.

At least the nervousness the building gave him helped distract him from himself.

Skidding to a stop in the parking lot of KJ Plastic Surgery Center, he popped off his helmet and skittered inside. One of the surgeons here - a Miss Noh Hana - had been a regular as long as he could remember working at the place. He even had her order memorized.

The receptionist recognized him and simply waved him along with a small smile. Giving the man a hurried little bow, Jeongguk made the short journey to Mrs. Noh’s office: room 2C, second floor.

Standing outside her door, he took a little breath. This woman made him nervous. She had this sort of mature, porcelain elegance about her that made one feel either poor or unintelligent. Or both. Jeongguk figured it was forgivable since she didn’t seem to create that effect intentionally. Just another pretty middle-aged woman that made young men nervous. He knocked.

There was a brief shuffling of paper and the sound of someone shifting in their seat. “Come in.”

He peeked in, and a smile peeked back from Miss Noh. “Jeongguk! Good morning.”

A quick bow, a small grin. “Good morning Miss Noh. I have your breakfast.”

“Hope so. I’m starving.” She cleared a little space on her desk as he walked over, plastic bag crinkling and tea in hand. Lemon, no honey or sugar. She liked bitter and salty things. “How has your morning been so far?”

“Traffic is light and I think it’ll only start to rain after my shift.”

“So pretty good.”

“Pretty good, yeah.” He grinned a little.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like a rabbit when you smile? It’s adorable.” She cracked the cap to her tea and took a deep breath of the steam that rolled out. “Oh, this will wake me up,” she murmured. Pulling out her wallet she politely asked how much, then passed it over. He thanked her, bowed, and then went to walk out.

“Ah, wait Jeongguk.” She stopped him and he turned around, eyes wide.

“Yes, Miss Noh?”

“Come here,” she waved him over with a slim hand, and he shuffled back over, curious. “Here,” she said softly, taking his hand in her own and wrapping his fingers around a very generous tip. He blinked up at her, surprised. “Miss Noh?”

“You look tired. You must have a night job, yes? So you’re working hard, but money is hard to come by.” She let go of his hand then, returning her gaze back to her paperwork to shuffle it around. She seemed shy all of a sudden. “That’s all. Have a good day Jeongguk.”

He smiled, bowed again. “You too, Miss Noh. Thank you!”

Jeongguk exited the building with a smile on his face, last night’s traumas temporarily forgotten. This wad of won nearly doubled what he’d earn today, and that’s enough to put a smile on anyone’s face.

By eleven, his shift at Gim’s Breakfast Delivery was over, and it was time to head to his second part-time. He hugged Sungyun goodbye - she was still scolding and fussing over him - and then turned in his uniform and clocked out.

This next place was a moving company. A lot of physical activity he didn’t have the energy or focus for, but he pushed through since this boss wasn’t as lax on him as the Gim family was. Losing this job was very possible if he wasn’t fast enough or spaced out and broke something. It didn’t help that he hadn’t had any time for lunch. That shift ended after what seemed like an eternity. It was dark now, but he had a night shift.

This place was closest to home, and probably the last place he wanted anyone he knew to find him. The convenience store. He’d be here until about two in the morning, when the next clerk would take over and set him home free. Until then, he was stuck listening to the outdated pop tunes buzzing from somewhere and pacing until he found something to do.

First thing he did was make himself some ramen. Someone came in while he was eating that just to buy some condoms and an energy drink. He didn’t even bother talking to him, just rang his stuff up. The dude seemed embarrassed anyway. A couple of minutes later he finished. Contemplated making another ramen bowl. Made another.

After some pacing, he found himself scribbling on some receipt paper. He thought back to the tiger girl. Now that he was forced to stand in one place with no sort of physical activity to distract him, he couldn’t help it. He’d really had no time to digest last night with how busy he’d been from the moment he’d woken up.

He wondered where she went. If the police found her. How the investigation was going. Briefly, if Hoseok was on the case - but, no, not his department. Jeongguk didn’t know much about how stuff like this worked, but he knew that Hoseok didn’t investigate homicides. He figured he should talk to him, and soon. Would he get busted for inhibiting police investigations if he didn’t turn himself in as a subject? He’d have to pose the hypothetical to Hobi.

Crumpling up the receipt paper, he turned and looked out the window.

Two hours left.

Jeongguk was gonna pass out standing up, he was sure. Walking home was hell. He was tempted to cuddle up with the hobos in their sleeping bags and on their park benches. Stumbling on, he kept himself going with murmurs of Just eight more blocks. One step after another. Your bed’s at home.

He paused at a familiar footbridge and peered out over the black water. God - everything was so dark. It smelled fresher here by the river, though, and he pulled in a deep breath of it. It helped clear his head a bit.

I can stop and breath for a bit. He rolled his head back to the sky. Tomorrow he had another morning shift, which was gonna be rough. No shift at the moving company, though. That’s good. He could nap in the afternoon… Needed groceries…

He swayed a little; dazed, exhausted, overthinking. The only thing keeping him standing were his locked knees and weak sense of balance.

A motorcycle roared down the street behind him and whipped past. Jeongguk slipped, startled.

He crashed into the water, knocked unconscious.

The motorcycle roared away.

Stripes saw the boy slip and heard him crash, and she was running to leap off the bridge before she could second-guess her actions. The air whipped past and the water swallowed her, lightless and bottomless. And cold.

It snatched the breath from her lungs. She fought her way to the surface to fill them and - it was colder above the water than beneath.

Heaving as deep an inhale as she could, she dove back under.

He’s sinking so fast. Faintly, she could see the ghostly outlines of his fingers, the little worms of his hoodie strings. Closed eyes. Jumping, spasming diaphragm.

Her ears popped, and she caught up to him. Hooking her arms around his waist - why is he so tiny? Does he eat enough? - she hauled him up to the surface. It was the longest ascent she can ever remember swimming. Breaking through the surface felt like birth.

She noticed with a fleeting panic that he wasn’t heaving in breaths like she was. His chest was still.

They emerged from the water soggy, shivering, and stumbling. Her grip slipped and he fell into the mud.

It’s so quiet out.

Whimpering nervously, she tried to remember what it is you do with a drowning victim. Empty their lungs, right? How? Burp them like a baby?

Not too bad of an idea, right?

Rolling him into a sitting position, she tilted him forward and started hitting his back, careful not to break anything. The ease with which she could snap a spine on accident was terrifying. His chest jerked. One slap, two, three.

She lost hope at six, and it was the seventh one that had him coughing up all the river grime he’d swallowed. It came out of his mouth in pathetic heaves and spluttered coughs, and she went a little gentler with the baby-burping method now that he was unplugged. She chuffed in a lame attempt at comfort.

They sat there for a couple of minutes, her hand tracing his spine with the aiding pat here and there. Jeongguk dazed and confused. He didn’t even remember being the water.

“Are you - “ her voice croaked, not often used “ - are you okay?”

He lurched to the side and retched. That’s a no. She rubbed his spine again, not really knowing what to do.

“Water,” he slurred. “Want water…”

We’ve had enough of that for now, Stripes thought dryly. “I’m going to pick you up.” It wasn’t a question. She was going to pick him up and take him home. She just had to cross her fingers and hope she remembered the way.

“What?” It sounded like his mouth was waterlogged.

She didn’t answer, just picked him up in a fireman’s carry. He moaned a complaint but had no strength to fight it. Stop fussing, she thought. Her tail twitched.

Climbing the concrete riverbank was hell, and stumbling over the lip of it felt like yet another birth. Nothing I wouldn’t do for a bed right now. Or dry hair. Or clean ears.

They tramped home - what an odd couple - and she listed off other things she’d kill for in her mind to keep her from dumping this moaning, sleepy cub back into the river. Warm food. Meat. Red meat! Fish too. I’d love some red snapper. Or king salmon. A shower. A bath! Better if that’s warm too.

The sopping wet duo entered his apartment building and tramped over to the elevator. He was starting to get heavy after five blocks. She needed to dump him somewhere and be done with it all.

She used his outstretched foot to press the up button. It took a couple of minutes. She fidgeted a little. Her tail swished lethargically, and her waterlogged ears twitched. She could hear the tortoise of an elevator rumbling slowly down the shaft, like an old man taking the steps one at a time.

I need to get my ears dry, she thought. One of them had that uncomfortable water bubble going on in it, and it was bothersome. She tried to shake her head like a dog as she usually would, but this made Jeongguk slip and shift around and he moaned petulantly at that. Her ears flattened back with a huff.

“You should walk on your own,” she mumbled.

Jeongguk drooled.

The elevator pinged open to reveal one very surprised passenger, whose eyes widened at the sight of them. Scrawny thing. Smells like cheap soju.

Stripes growled and swished her tail. He skittered out like a spooked lizard.

Thankfully, Jeongguk hadn’t lost his key lanyard in the river. She was able to fish it out of his hoodie and stomp into his dingy little apartment, which was barely warmer than outside. No wonder he’s so skinny. He can’t even afford heating. She dropped him on the couch with a thump and another moan that earned him a tail-swat to the bicep.

Stripes surveyed the room for a second, the chatter of her teeth audible. Without heating, they couldn’t just crash and sleep the chill off until the morning - she needed to warm them both up. A bath would be best.

There was only one room separate from the rest of the apartment, so she figured that was the bathroom. In it, there enough room for about one person to operate - they’d have to squeeze around each other to both use this place. However, this could work out - there was an ancient, crusty shower head and a poorly plastered bathtub, but a tub nonetheless. She set it to fill with lukewarm water.

Next, clothes. They both needed new clothes. Her especially. She’d been wearing the same sweat and hoodie set from her dog friend for two weeks now. His scent was no longer on it. Now it just stunk. She pried it off and tossed it straight past the hamper and into the trash can with a sad little sniff.

It hit the wall with a splat and slid in. The sound almost made her snort.

Ducking her head into the bathroom, she judged it to be about half full. That’s enough, right? “Should be,” she mumbled.

Glancing over at Jeongguk, she saw he was out like a light. “Hey,” she croaked. I haven’t used my voice in a while. My throat hurts.

He didn’t stir.

If you’re dead after my hauling you this far, I’ll kill you again. She hauled him off the couch with a growl.

This woke him up, at least a little. “M’tired,” he mumbled, pawing his hood up and pulling at the strings until only his nose peeked out. “Lemme stay…”

“No. Strip. Take a bath.”

“No…” he rolled onto his other side like a child refusing to wake up for school.

She half-sighed, half-growled, tail swishing. She needed to keep him from getting hypothermia before she could take her own bath. Why wasn’t he more cooperative? If he were more alive, she’d beat some sense into him.

Hooking her hands into his belt, she dragged him into the bathroom and heaved him into the tub.

That woke him up. He startled and water sloshed out in heavy plops at his very delayed survival response. Why didn’t you react like this in the river, you shit! Gah!

He clawed his hoodie open, looking her in the eyes for the very first time since the restaurant. They widened incrementally. “Stripes?”

Her ear twitched. “That’s me. Who’re you?”

“…J-Jeongguk. I…”

“Hm?”

“Why are you…naked?”

She glanced down at herself, unabashed, and uttered a small “Ah.” Jeongguk could feel his ears and face burning.

“You get warm, then it’s my turn. I’m borrowing your clothes.”

“What—?”

He didn’t get to finish; she was already out of the bathroom. Faintly, he heard her ruffling around his dresser and sighed. No stopping her. Well, the water did feel nice, even if it was spilling over and making a mess - oh shit fuck -

Finally, he was settled. She could tell he was trying to stay awake to keep an eye on her, but failing miserably. His eyes kept shutting and his head bobbing unwittingly, but she left him to it. He’d fall asleep soon. She needed a bath, anyway.

Speaking of which.

She bit her lip in excitement, butt almost wiggling at the sight of the rolling steam. She hadn’t had a bath in two years. The last time she’d even showered had been a week ago, and bitterly cold. There were so many soaps in there too! Well, like, four bottles of stuff, but still! If this is what Jeongguk used to smell so yummy, she was looking forward to doing the same.

She dipped a toe in, and then everything all at once. A soft sigh escaped her in the midst of sloshing water. She wiggled her toes, skin prickling and tingling. It’s as good as I remember it being. I want to take a bath every week. Every day! Does that make me a beast of comfort? God that feels good…

The purr that rumbled out of her wasn’t something she was familiar with, and she soaked for a minute to revel in the vibrations. The last time she’d made this sound was when one of the cagedoggers had given her a duvet for her birthday. She sorta missed that duvet. It had been trashed. The down was clumped and the quilting was wearing thin. But it’d been warm. She’d had to leave it behind after this last trade, and could still feel the ache of being forced to part with something so loyal and sentimental.

In the present, Stripes washed her hair for the first time in a year. She eased the mats out of her fur, scrubbed the dirt and the blood and the grime off her skin. The water steamed and cleared her nose. For the first time in awhile, she didn’t have to keep an eye on her back.

The knots in her muscles eased, just a bit. It was a start.

A/N: sorry for taking so long, IB has its foot up my asshole rn.

Tag List: @feed-my-geek-soul @astronomyturtle

[allsimspop]

Idol Sibling Appreciation

3 days ago we asked netisims to send idols with siblings who also work in the idol industry or just who netisims were surprised to see they were related to another idol. This post may end up lengthy as we had a lot of answers! 

(Instead of one of my trash explanations I decided to use whatever examples I got from certain people and go off of that to make it cuter?)

Dani & Alec (WannaSul)

@/minstoenail: “@k-simsent ‘s Danielle Mongkol and Alec Mongkol. I didn't know freckles were a genetic thing, but they have the same smile it's really scary? Other than that they don't look too related. Alec wasn't born in Bangkok like dani was too, they're both cuties though."

Harley & Maia (Bilingual)

@/duexlingual: "@monarchy-entertainment-sims 's Huang Harley and Huang Maia. The huang sisters need to be appreciated most definitely. they're both in bilingual together and they model together a whole lot. I DID NOT THINK siblings could get along so damn well."

Honey (Former Gold Crush) & Minji (XX)

@/24kgmagic: "@k-simsent 's Park HyeonJu and Park MinJi. Honey has like a ton of siblings apparently, i wonder if any more of them are idols too? Minji gained attention quick because she looked like Honey... but either way they seem to be really close. I hope they make a dance video together at least once."

Junmoney (NextGen) & Jiaho (BiLinGual)

@/downwithmonarcy: “@monarchy-entertainment-sims 's Junmoney and Jiaho. Junmoney's in next gen, jiaho's in bilingual. I saw that their family's like super f***ing rich, like the richest in china. A plus is: they're both great rappers/soloists and they're like extremely close too! Sometimes they help produce each other's songs.”

Jieun & Wooyoung (Lost Boys)

@/foundboys: “@globalsimsnetwork 's Kim Jieun and Kim Wooyoung. Jieun is like 3 years older than Wooyoung and known for going in and out of multiple companies and also being Wooyoung’s older sis. Wooyoung is known for formerly being a cosplayer and now the main vocalist of Lost Sims. I know that Jieun’s a brat to Wooyoung but they love each other sometimes so it’s all good.”

Junseo (5oul) & Hanbi

@/junseo5seoul: “@neverlandent 's Junseo and Hanbi. They do not look related at all, but i would KILL for a sibling to back me up the way Hanbi did when Junseo was outted. Hanbi is a queen and Junseo deserves the world and that is period."

Leiko & Keiko (Sunbeam)

@/kokolee: "@k-simsent 's Sone Leiko and Keiko. Leiko debuted before Keiko but Keiko is more known now. They are both charming in their own way, Keiko likes to sing more then rap and Leiko likes to rap more. If they did a song together it would be a instant hit.”

Masami (Infinity Girls) & Kanano

@/itouxitou: “@mnemosynententertainment 's Itou twins. The twins are the most known of the Itou family. They are the weirdest of the siblings too, Kanano said her and her sister once talked about opening up a Mortuary if they didn't become famous. FINally found people with personalities outside of being idols.”

Miyun (NovaGirls) & Hyori (DayDream)

@/nglovesstaries: “Kim Miyun is related to Kim Hyori from @belladonna-entertainment ! Yes, our baby Miyun from NovaGirls is Daydream’s Hyori’s sister. They don’t look alike but I have inside source that they were born together (like years apart) so don’t @ me on this one. They’re both really talented so f***.”

Suki & Yoko (Intruders)

@/okoyoko02: ”@redstrikeentertainment ‘s Asuka Suki and Asuka Yoko. Suki made a name for herself having been kicked out of Moonlight. She has been rumored to be with a new company, which isn't about this. Her little sister Yoko is much different. Yoko had a YouTube channel called OneYoko, but went on a hiatus because of her joining RedStrike. She is referred to as the "the prettier sister", both in looks and personality. Surprisingly, Yoko has opened up about her sister Suki, her bringing a bad tone to the Asuka name, and has expressed missing her sister a lot. They were really close before. Even though it haven't been a interaction between them for a long time, the Asuka sisters is already known in Korea.”

Sunghyo (B.O.S.S.) & Sunhyon (DayDream)

@/pprmimi: ”@belladonna-entertainment has lots of siblings in their company! The first one that would come to mind is Lee Sunhyon from daydream and Lee Sunghyo. Sunghyo’s announced to be on B.O.S.S., so I luckily won’t get reported for sending in this photo!”

Wonyong & SooIn (S&S)

@/boolue99: “@eden-ent ‘s Pyo Wonyong and Na SooIn. This maaaaay be a big hunch but these two look too much alike to not be siblings. Which is weird because SooIn’s father and mother were/are both really popular actors, yet they only expressed having one SooIn? This photo was taken by a Wonyong fansite and our Wonyong doesn’t seem like the type to cheat after having outed her relationship in the first place.”

                                        「NETISIMS COMMENTS」

[+2394, -187] Every single idol here is so attractive? I WANT A HOT SIBLING 

[+1994, -594] The amount of upvotes for the first comment is so alarming..

[+1339, -1001] So, Na Jaehyun might be the father of Pyo Wonyong and you guys are talking about potentially wanting to f*** your hot sibling?? I want to know more about that, because WonP does look really similar to actor Na Jaehyun, like more than his daughter.

[+857, -304] Idols are either really poor, have very sad backgrounds or really rich.

[+594, -239] You think Junseo’s parents dropped him for being gay?

[+201, -444] I think every artist at mnem are just freaks?? I swear Mnemosyne’s trainees have scarier idol facts everytime they’re mentioned.

[lxtent]

@iceprincesssooyeon :

Sooyeon’s day had been… interesting, to say the least. It hadn’t been bad, necessarily, but it had been hectic, and staying late had been an unfortunate aftermath of the chaotic day. She was glad that Leo had offered, when she called him during her lunch break, to pick up the kids from school. “I won’t be home too late. I just need an extra hour to get things finished.” She had told him, fingers gently kneading her forehead as she spoke. Of course Leo had been understanding of the situation. He always was. Leo was, in so many ways, a blessing. She’d arrived home just a bit later than she would have liked, but her mind was mostly on her excitement to be with her family again. Her precious, little, family. Sooyeon did not expect to be greeted so soon after she had walked through the door. More than that, she did not expect this greeting. Minjin and Leo with similarly bashful smiles, her son holding out a plate of rainbow decorated cookies. It took her a second to realize what was going on, and it didn’t dawn on her what the date was until Minjin explained the reason for the cookies. Sooyeon’s momentary confusion melted into a smile, one that offered the warmth she felt in her heart from the sweet gesture. They’d made cookies for her. Together. And now they were standing here with the treats, wearing matching expressions. Father and son. She didn’t say this thought aloud, but it seemed so obvious- even more so in this moment than in others. She leaned down, first, to kiss Minjin’s forehead. Of course the action only made her son more bashful, a small whine of “Mom!” coming from him, only to be followed by a short laugh. Sooyeon nearly had to stand on the tips of her toes to reach Leo properly. She started with a kiss to his forehead, just as she had done with Minjin. But she followed it with a small kiss to her boyfriend’s lips, letting it linger only a few short moments. “Thank you. This is really sweet. They look so yummy~” She offered them both, taking the plate of cookies from Minjin, “But I don’t think I can eat all of these myself! You might have to help me~” Sooyeon’s gaze drifted to Minjin, her son’s lips now pulled up into a grin. “That was the plan!” Minjin replied.

Leo near enough grinned at the sight, Sooyeon kissing Minjin gently and her son shying away from the gesture. This had been a good idea. It hadn’t only been his idea of course, and he would not take all the credit for it. But some credit was alright. When Sooyeon was standing before him, all soft smiles and standing on tip toe, Leo had to blink a few times to make sure he kept up. Sometimes she was truly dazzling. He tipped his head forwards when he picked up on what she was doing and received two kisses in response. He wanted to pick her up instead. Only a little, her feet barely above the floor. His arms would be wrapped around her that way. Minjin most likely wouldn’t have minded; Miyun might even have cooed at them. But Leo didn’t want to take up Sooyeon’s time. He kissed her back with one hand resting against her neck, let himself turn a second into hours. He would be lying if he said they had not thought about sharing the cookies when making them. The warm aroma emanating from the plate was too tempting to ignore. But at the very least, Leo had managed to convince Minjin and Miyun, and by extension himself too, that they needed to wait for Sooyeon to have them first. “It... wasn’t the plan,” Leo mumbled whilst sounding thoroughly unconvincing. At that moment, he crouched down to Minjin’s height and, sharing a quick mischievous glance with him, broke a tiny corner of cookie from one of the large treats and popped it in his mouth. “I like this plan a lot more.”

[belladonna-entertainment]

Eunha - 7 Sims

Soloist Jung Eunha debuts with english track “7 Sims”. 

The music video featured several friends of Eunha’s and her boyfriend Dylan.

HanBi of @neverlandent

Echo of @hiberryentertainment

Soloist Yujin

Miyun of NOVAGIRLS

Bohee of Sunbeam

Eudoxia of Infinity Girls! 

(I absolutely love 7 rings and i wanted to do a sims mv for it so i said screw it and created this with my queen eunha! Hope you all enjoy it!!!)

[one-traveling-panda]

Mei-Lin Stoutarm Grummle Courier Station 22 Binan Village, Kun-Lai Pandaria

Dear Mother:

It is with great joy that I announce the renewed use of my legs, and the continuation of my journey! I have taken my leave of Fort Wildervar, gifting each soldier a skin of Grandmother’s mead as is proper to do, and traveled instead north-by-northwest to these frigid lands which are called the Storm Peaks. They are, as it turns out, very aptly named! For many nights now the skies have thundered incessantly, and lightning parts the blackness in between the many stars, but no rain ever falls and the land is coated in an endless blanket of snow. There is so much to see here, and I will capture it all in due time, though this most recent of sights I first must share with you. Atop a wide plateau and overlooking a sheer cliff face, I have found a village of great, blue-skinned, ferocious women! I have yet been able to find no men besides myself in the entire village, which compels me to ask questions that I think the residents will not be glad to answer, and so I will hold my tongue. As it is their custom to tame, train, and eventually mount bears (which I am told is not a euphemism), my presence is grudgingly tolerated, but even so I will not remain long; these women also have in captivity a great white yeti such as to dwarf the ones we see on Mount Neverest, and in sight of this I have wisely chosen not to tempt fate. I must go now and re-kindle my campfire, Mother, but be assured that all is well, and that I will be home soon! Tell little Miyun that she can be a bear-tamer when she grows up! I have seen proof of this, now, with my own eyes.

Shivering and slightly hungry, but alive, Your loving son, Yang

[l-lakuryuu-blog]

RANDOM FACTS ABOUT THE ONE BEHIND THE MASK

Repost, not reblog! Tag muns you would like to get to know better when done!

Tagged by: taken from cheri ( @jiyxu ).

Tagging: no ty

Name/Nickname: Anna (name), Miyun (an online alias) Age: 21 Faceclaim: idk... it’s just sorta... random if I even use one. Pronouns: she / her Height: 5′7″ / 8″ ish. Birthday: november 22nd Aesthetic:  i like stars, nature, and such. Last song you listened to: uh, idk.

Favourite muse(s) you’ve written:

Oh, probably Mithos ( @iniquitousideals )  or something. I can’t comment on my Kija because I’ve hardly written him, and that other muse is the first that comes to mind.

What inspired you to take on your current muse (that you are posting this on):

just loving AnY... but cheri ( @jiyxu ) really inspired me!! her jae-ha is amazing, and i watched her for a while before making kija back in january.

What are your favorite aspects of your current muse:

his determination, our mutual dislike of bugs, his naive nature?, and he’s just cute like a puppy. what is there not to like about kija?

What’s your biggest inspiration when it comes to writing:

getting into the spirit of the character. imagining myself walking through their shoes, and how they might perceive things. reading the writing of all around and just going with the flow~

Favourite types of threads:

angst, fluff... all of the feels!!

The biggest struggle in regards to your current muse:

this is hard. i don’t find too much particularly difficult. if anything, i guess i just want to be sure i get everything right. sometimes that can make getting into a new muse hard.

[lowkeyseunghyun]

Miyun is the name hehehe

here you go~!

Make Up Love by Samuel Seo

I Remember by KNK

You by Kang Seungyoon

U by KNK

Never Ever by GOT7

send us your name and we’ll make a playlist with it!

-Admins Loki & Koko

[lxtent]

A reply for @iceprincesssooyeon one month too late, for the day that Leo will never find enough words to do justice to.

A birthday was just a birthday.

One day longer alone. Another year for him to recall how much things had changed. And he had changed them. He’d changed them, been changed by them in return. First his parents, then his grandmother. Then Taejin and Sohyun. Now Sooyeon.

And she should have left long ago. How many reasons had he given her now? Instead, she had come back. Not for the second time that month, Leo stood at his doorway in awe, a Sooyeon on his doorstep, carrying parcels and an umbrella. He reached for her without even thinking. No... he couldn’t do that. Scaring her away before she even feels safe enough to come in. Unless she had never intended to come in. Maybe she was only here to drop off some more of his things and go. What if she hadn’t wanted him to open the door. What if-

Leo froze and looked at his hand. It hovered just above her wrist, ready to take her hand. He took the wet umbrella from her instead. She... was as surprised as he was. Leo swallowed down the fear that had risen, unbidden in his throat. Perhaps she didn’t want to see him. But that was not the case. She had come here to see him, specifically for his birthday. The spark of hope he felt, so small, barely enough to set a match alight, caused Leo to press a hand to his chest. He rubbed it away, trying to appear casual. Sooyeon would not buy it. How could she? There was nothing casual about them anymore, not since they had met, nor since the day it had nearly fallen apart. Nearly. Because she waited for him now, on the doorstep of his house with gifts. There was a thread that still remained unbroken. Leo wanted to tug on it gently, pull her closer to find out the strength of it.

“Ah... I- I thought...” That you wouldn’t want to see me. That it would cause you too much pain. He stepped back to let Sooyeon past. It gave her plenty of space to avoid getting too close to him if she preferred. “Come in.” The scent of her perfume breezed past him as she went. Leo’s eyes fluttered closed. 

He watched her settle some of the gifts on the breakfast table, where they had once shared dinner they’d made together before Leo gave her a drawing he’d been working on. He had debated giving it to her for days. Her smile when she’d received it had told him it was the right thing to do. He could trust her completely. That was why she was here now, wasn’t it? He still trusted her. She could do what she wanted with him and he would have no objections. Leo didn’t understand how she could still give him gifts to celebrate when they had been apart for so long. But he was near speechless as she gave them to him.

The teddy bear came first. Such an improvement on the last one, technically. But it was not this that Leo loved so much for it. It’s soft fur brushed his fingers, almost as if imbued with all the questions he had left them with, the comfort they always gave him. He had left them. No explanations. He had done to them exactly as their biologic father had, as his parents had done even though it was not their choice. It was all Leo could do not to hold the bear tight against his chest and not let go. He held it close anyway, tucked into the crook of his arm as he took the card. The familiar writing tore at his heart. Wishes of happiness, hopes that they would like the cake, Minjin writing very articulately on how they decided to make the bear. 

When was he coming home?

Leo dropped his head, bringing the bear up to bury his nose in its fur. Sooyeon had seen him cry so often he hardly worried about showing her the emotion. But when he lifted his head, a smile, albeit weak and filled with guilt, appeared on his lips. “I’ve missed them,” he whispered to her, “I left them, didn’t? I did not want to Sooyeon, please believe me. I don’t know if they’ll understand. Making sure they were safe, away from me, was all I could do.” He looked at the bear again. “I miss them.”

Putting the bear down reluctantly, and placing the card beside it, Leo took one look at Sooyeon with unrestrained curiosity before opening the box. Inside, a cake in the shape of a cats head sat waiting. “Miya...?” he asked dumbly before the realisation dawned on him. Not Miya. It was supposed to represent him. He pouted softly, forgetting himself in the familiarity of it all. And Sooyeon’s laugh. Her hand seemed to rise slightly as she did. Leo caught the movement in the corner of his eye, met her gaze. He wanted to take her hand. Anything. Just to be close to her. He resisted, hand curling whilst holding the bottom of his jumper instead.

Listening to her speak was gift enough. It had been two weeks since their last encounter. Broken glass fragments and unrestrained truths still lingered in Leo’s mind. Hearing her talk so normally felt incredibly rare. He’d taken such small things for granted, having been so concerned with preserving the future and hiding the past. This was what mattered. His gazed down at the box. He read the note. These... were exactly what he’d missed. Everything. Her voice, telling him about her day, what the kids had been doing, asking him why... just why. Leo looked at Sooyeon, distraught. She couldn’t go now. “Please don’t...” he rushed to say, “Stay, Sooyeon. Please stay.” Then he did what he had been aching to do since she walked through the door, only a small fraction of it, and took her hand.

With the other, fingers lightly shaking, he pried open the lid of the box. Seeing the letters, the scraps of paper... Leo held his breath. Underneath them was a key. The key he’d returned. The trust she now gave back to him, so completely, in both letting him read her thoughts, and allowing him to find a way home again.

He started slowly, in silence. He did not speak the entire way through. The tears began to trail down his cheeks somewhere in between. She had been scared. Worried. Worried for him and herself. For Miyun and Minjin. She thought... that he had not loved being with her. Of all things, that was the furthest from the truth. He just couldn’t explain it. How words failed him at the worst of times. Being with Sooyeon was the brightest light he had ever experienced in his life. The days they spent simply getting to know one another; warm coffee cups in their hands as he walked him to work whilst she was still studying, the night she had kissed him whilst they were quietly watching a film and he had followed her rather than walked away. God, she even remembered how they met. The first few notes on paper cups. Leo ad kept those. He was certain they were somewhere here, filled with doodles he had added to them when his mind wouldn’t focus on work. He had nearly forgotten. How could he let himself forget that?

Slowly, the letters lay open around them, every single one. They hadn’t sat down. Leo had stood, still as death, feeling life and pain and love coursing through him at a rate that felt like it was setting his blood on fire. The song still sat untouched and it was this, at last, that Leo turned to once he had finished. Sooyeon had written a beautiful melody. There wasn’t a day that went by that Leo wished he’d kept his mothers old piano. Only one place existed where he could play this now. Until then, he would have to sound the notes in his head. He’d have the memorised faster than he possibly should. He hummed them now, gently, to give them a voice. 

It was like the sun reflecting on raindrops as the clouds cleared, but rain still fell; relief and sorrow all at once. And Sooyeon, still waiting beside him, the very reason why Leo could see all the colours. It was bright. Beautiful. He’d made her wait so long, caused her so much more pain than he ever could have done. Staying away had given her time to collect her thoughts but at what cost to them both? To them, as they were, together and apart?

They had to talk. This silence couldn’t go on a second longer. It suffocated them still. Leo let his fingers drift idly over the back of her hand and when he spoke, his voice was calm. “We’re not going to give up.” He said it as a realisation. That flicker of hope reignited. It would be impossibly painful, yes. Leo needed - no, wanted - to work everything out. He would have to talk, and not ignore the events that had slowly destroyed him. Whether it be Sooyeon, someone else... He had to give up every secret, completely break himself before he could rebuild.

He could do it if Sooyeon stayed next to him. That he could believe. Staying apart only hurt them more than he had ever thought it would. He took long, shaky breaths. Too much oxygen flooded through him. Or was that the weight that had somehow... eased? The fierce guilt no longer pressing quite so hard against him? “Not any of it,” he continued, “Keeping away from you does nothing. It is a punishment for both of us. I deserve that punishment, but you do not. You... you still want to try, don’t you?” Of course she did. She wanted it as much as he did, only he was too scared to admit it. If he made things right and still found some happiness with Sooyeon, Miyun and Minjin then something would come to take it away. But if it did, he would not be the one to take it away himself.

“I want to try to be a person you deserve to have loving you. It will take time... I don’t know if it can be done, but for the days ahead we still have, I will give everything I have to see them into reality. I promise you this. Because I- I love you. More than anything, I need you to know that. I love you, Sooyeon.”  That ache to lean toward her and kiss her, to cup her face in his hands and show her what this meant, nearly consumed him... He could not say everything now, but for the first time in months, Leo thought they had time. They had time to talk. They would have time to figure out how to love each other without this destructive force hiding between the tiniest of cracks.

A few minutes passed. Leo kept his hand in hers, his left hand now holding the key. Its weight was comforting in his palm. Enough to convince to ask one more thing of her. If Sooyeon turned him down, he would not protest. He’d make sure she left safely and worry about calling her, ultimately deciding not to. He’d sit at his desk half the night and follow her lead: he would write, and what he could not find the words for, he would sketch into sense. But if she indulged him, he could wait an hour or two more before he began. Leo bit his lip, then found a sliver of courage left to ask her. “I know we- we will meet tomorrow. But would you stay for a little while? Only... it would not feel right to try the cake alone.”

[lxtent]

COPY THIS POST INTO A NEW TEXT POST, REMOVE MY ANSWERS AND PUT IN YOURS, WHEN YOU ARE DONE TAG UP TO TEN PEOPLE AND ALSO TAG THE PERSON WHO TAGGED YOU.

TAGGED BY. @lighthousehan [ Thank you~! ] TAGGING. @iceprincesssooyeon , @latibulx [ for Jihae~ ], @numberxix [ for Oliver~ ], @raffinne 

A - AGE: 27 years B - BIGGEST FEAR: Loss, harming a loved one, rejection, abandonment, forgetting... C - CURRENT TIME: 1 am exactly D - DRINK YOU LAST HAD: Green tea. It’s a rare occasion. E - EVERY DAY STARTS WITH: Coffee. And hopefully... waking up next to Sooyeon... F - FAVOURITE SONG: I do not have one favourite. A melody my mother used to play is particularly important to me, however. G - GHOSTS ARE THEY REAL:... I believe so. Your own ghosts are the most noticeable. I - IN LOVE WITH: The people that have offered me more love than I can ever deserve. K - KILLED SOMEONE: ...  L - LAST TIME YOU CRIED: A- A few weeks ago. M - MIDDLE NAME: None. N - NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: None. O - ONE WISH: For a future. For a future in which they are happy, even if... I am not with them. P - PERSON YOU LAST CALLED/TEXTED: Minha.  Q - QUESTIONS YOU ARE ALWAYS ASKED:  “Why do you design dresses? Isn’t that something feminine? Why are you so quiet?” R - REASONS TO SMILE: Music. Miyun. Minjin. Sooyeon. Every inch, every second of Sooyeon. Friends that have... become my family. Material under my hands. A design drawn right. S - SONG LAST SANG: I cannot recall. T - TIME YOU WOKE UP: 7 am. U - UNDERWEAR COLOUR: Must I really answer this? ... Black. V - VACATION DESTINATION: Devon or Cornwall. Jeju. Florida again... W - WORST HABIT: Shutting myself away. X - X-RAYS YOU’VE HAD: Many. Years ago, after the accident. To check my fractured ribs. Y - YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD: I have passed the point of being able to choose. I eat... most things quite happily. Z- ZODIAC SIGN: Scorpio.

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✪, ✥, ℒ , or ✗ ((Because it was impossible to pick just one ^^;))

Acts of Affection

✪  Rubbing their back after a stressful day or disappointment.

It was always stressful when orders came piling in at the shop, the individual requests a blur of materials and sketches mixed with ink and thread. Acacia was by no means a large business, but they did fairly well based on word of mouth. People knew them. They knew Leo’s designs and the dresses that stood on display behind the small windows of their Hongdae shop. A strange little place for a tailors, they all said. Strange it may have been, but those that were interested enough usually found them this way. The number of dresses Leo had to created rose until three had to be completed in one week. The hours bled into each other, the colours of the silk and chiffon, the tulle and lace, all of them seeming grey. 

When he stepped through the door into Sooyeon’s house, it had been three days since he’d last slept there. He had told himself not to come, kept repeating that he couldn’t let her or the kids deal with his drained form and the constant work he brought back with him. But god, staying away was no longer something he could no longer convince himself of. He all but collapsed into her arms as soon as he saw her. He had hardly slept. His eyes were dulled, she must have seen them. Despite it all, Leo pulled himself from her just enough to offer a lifeless smile and a fragile apology, “I know I said… that I wouldn’t be home for a while…” He trailed off. Because he had said it himself, the reason he was here. This was home. He needed Sooyeon, no matter how selfish that was. He needed to know she was okay okay. He needed her warmth and the sound of the kids’ laughter, the way they called out to him when they saw him. If he was breaking before he entered, colourless, they began to paint in the parts of him that had faded. Why did he have to do this to himself? Why did he have to chip away at himself with the things he loved? 

Whether Sooyeon needed more encouragement than his for words or not, Leo did not have the time to clarify. He hardly remembered being coaxed to Sooyeon’s room, their room, until he was sat on the edge of the bed, Sooyeon’s arms around him as she pressed against his back. All of the warmth poured into him; orange and red, a palette of colours spilling over him. Leo tried not to rest against her, but when every part of him relaxed, he found she was propping him up as well as comforting him. Sooyeon’s hands moved over his shoulders, the pads of her fingers pressing into him. It was just enough, enough to pull him out of himself, fill in enough of him to get him to coax her around to sitting on his lap. Though her hands kept moving in small, soothing circles over his back, Leo hardly registered the individual movements. It was the whole of her that he breathed in. His head rested against her shoulder, his eyes closed. It must have been late, far later than he had originally thought it was. But Sooyeon was still awake with him. Still here. Still here. Even when she did not have to be. Leo placed a tender kiss against her neck like he always did because kissing her was so easy and natural now, just an extension of the feelings that near overwhelmed him whenever he could hold her in such a way. It was looser than usual perhaps, his exhaustion fraying the edges but that did not matter. “Can I… stay here tonight? he asked, words as blurred and quiet as he felt. And though he did not have to ask, he knew he never had to ask, it was going back on his word from the days before. I won’t be able to come home until the weekend. Another lie. This one he could cope with breaking. Asking Sooyeon if he could break it first was something he felt he had to do. Yet without waiting for an answer, Leo allowed himself to fall backwards and draw Sooyeon in with him as eyes fluttered shut and he felt the fluttering, steady beat of her heart against him.

✥ Play fighting.

It would be lying to say Leo was unaware how they ended up how. Or rather, how he ended up here: arms above his head, held together by Minjin’s small hands, fingers curled around his wrists. And Leo did not regret it either. An easy smile played across his lips and Sooyeon caught it with her own, even with the kids looking on. Leo heard laughs, small protest groans whilst they were still smiling. He closed his eyes to Sooyeon’s kiss, completely overpowered. She and Miyun sat atop him, Miyun laying over his chest. It was a feat that Sooyeon managed to reach his lips at all, a feat involving stretching over her daughter and Miyun leaning to one side whilst she did so. Though he was trapped, Leo did not feel that way. He wriggled his fingers over his head, leading to a protest from Miyun: “You’re not going to escape yet!” and Minjin trying to hold both Leo’s wrists with one hand as he made an attempt at tickling Leo’s palm with the other hand. He refrained from moving them aside from the occasional flinch, testing to see how Minjin would react. 

And Sooyeon… Sooyeon had him pinned, legs either side of his hips. The sofa was only just wide enough to accommodate all of them, Leo’s hand propped against the arm was that his hand were even higher. This he deserved; he had started the whole thing in the first place. He had grabbed Miyun from behind, pretending to be the dragon she needed to defeat as the princess. She had squealed, calling knight Minjin to the rescue and eventually Queen Sooyeon too. Leo had hugged Miyun close before falling onto the sofa and there was their chance. He was stuck.

He could move if he wanted to. There was simply no reason to escape. “Are- are you going to kill the dragon?” he whispered, as though suddenly scared. Miyun giggled and moved quickly so that she was laying on him completely, so light. Leo tried to peer down at her, somewhat challenging when his head was tipped so far back that the ceiling might have been the night sky he was choosing to gaze upon instead. She placed a tiny kiss on his cheek nonetheless, to which he saw Sooyeon smile. Then, with an even bigger smile than her mother’s, Miyun said, “Only if the dragon transforms into a handsome king who will marry the queen!”

Leo found himself staring up at the sky of the ceiling once again, this time blushing much more than he had been previously.

ℒ  Pulling them into a hall/alley to kiss them passionately.

Sweetness and small touches, hands sharing pockets and fingers intertwined, hands brushing whenever people weren’t looking, and sometimes even when they were. They were things that Leo fell into, slipped into easier than if he had held his breath for years and was suddenly able to taste fresh air again. These small things were never things he took for granted. When he had been younger, friends he no longer knew had joked that he was meant to be in love. And maybe that showed. He was not good at love, or so he believed. He had destroyed anything close to love he had ever felt. That was why he was so gentle with Sooyeon so often. Never did her think that she was fragile. He knew she would not break under his touch. She was stronger than he was. She always had been, despite going through all she had with Alek. And yet sometimes, that gentleness fell away until all that was left was the raw, hectic and desperate love he felt for her.

Sooyeon took his hand after the fifth small kiss Leo had placed behind her ear whilst they were meant to be talking. The quiet lulls in between words gave Leo a chance to reassure himself with the lightest of gestures. There had been no ulterior motives behind the kisses. But perhaps that was what had been making him restless as they spoke. A small meeting of teachers at Sooyeon’s school was not the place, of course, to be so openly affectionate. But as they left and Leo felt himself loosen, all the tension that had coiled tight at the thought of meeting the people she worked with releasing its grip. And Sooyeon pulled him toward one of the empty corridors, walking backwards so that she could face him and Leo could look at her intently. Maybe it was the look they exchange in that moment. Or else, the hours before spent so close but not quite close enough. Or the words that they had exchanged throughout the night. “Later…” Always later, after the formalities. The rush flooded upward through him the second Sooyeon’s arms wound their way around his neck and pulled him in. Their mouths met, softly at first, Leo slowly letting go against her. Everything in him fell apart and rebuilt itself, then tension that had been there drawing itself up once again. Leo’s hands came up to cup her face, tilting her chin upward to give him better access to her. She was so soft against his hands, so small compared to him, so… so…

There was soft thud as she touched the lockers behind her with a foot. Leo barely looked down to register the noise. It registered in his mind that any passers-by might be alerted to their presence by the noise, but he did not care. His eyes closed and he kissed her back like an answer. Whatever question she might ask, he replied with each kiss. The parting of her lips against his - I’ll stay with you - the gentle pressure her her movements - I won’t ever hurt you - until he simply opted for pulling her up toward him with hands around her waist. When they broke apart, Leo’s breathing remained uneven, his eyes flickering to Sooyeon’s lips, slightly pinker even in the dimmed light of the corridor. “What was that for?” he murmured. And though it was his own question, to this he wasn’t expecting an answer. Not one that he did not already know.

✗  Bathing, washing, or soaking together quietly after sex.

He ran the bath with sleepy, unhurried movements and returned to Sooyeon whilst it was running. Usually, a bath was too much of a luxury to spend time upon, but none of that mattered today. There was nowhere to rush to. Nothing but them and the slow, languid movements between them, lingering kisses and soft gasps in the warm haze of the late morning light. Leo leant over her lithe form, half covered in the sheets, rested his forehead against hers and whispered affections against her lips when he could. “So pretty…” he murmured and felt the curve of his lips in response.  He didn’t let himself linger on the possibility of forgetting the bath, of falling into her again, and maybe again after that, losing everything until there was nothing left. No. If he let his thoughts continue on those images, the memories from minutes before for too long, he would never want to leave. 

He did not ask her before he picked her up. There was no need when he slipped his hands under her knees and she curled into him, instantly knowing what he was doing. Leo pulled her up to him, having little time to be flustered for their state of undress. His eyes ran along her body, catching her gaze when he looked up at her and god, the feel of her against him with nothing between them, how intimate that gaze felt… it made Leo stop for a second, his breath catching in his throat.

The bath water was just warm enough, not scalding. Leo lowered Sooyeon until she put her feet down on the cool floor and turned off the taps as she got in. Wordlessly, he followed. He sat behind her, in the wide scoop of the bathtub so that his feet just reached the end, and Sooyeon could lean back against him. It all went a little to Leo’s head. The humid air around them, the slide of Sooyeon moving against him in the water. Without much thought, he cupped some water in his hands and let it trickle over Sooyeon’s hair, earning a chime of laughter from her and a subtle smile that stayed on his lips for only seconds. The water tickled as it ran down his chest. 

All the carefully prepared questions he’d thought of scattered out of his mind like autumn leaves. Is it warm enough? Are you tired? He could barely catch the endings of them, let alone the beginnings. Sooyeon’s hand was finding one of his as he fought for his own thoughts. He gave up that hand to her almost as soon as she took it and let his left hand run down over her shoulder, along her was it and around so that it laid on her stomach, her other arm over the top of his. Sooyeon’s fingers grazed Leo’s knuckles and he shivered, sighed. He couldn;t reach her like this. He wanted to kiss her again and taste the little droplets of water clinging to her lips with his tongue. “… Can you turn around?” he asked haltingly. When she was facing him, Leo pulled her upwards, the movement easy in water, effortless, weightless. She was slick against him in the water like this. Leo dipped his head, a half-smile appearing as he stole a quick kiss where a drop of water rested at the corner of her mouth before that smile was erased to a frown when he kissed her, the slight sweetness of her in the more evident in the heat of the water. He ran a hand through the dry hair that framed her face until he reached the damp hair clinging to her back. Heaven. Surely someone like him should not be able to feel something so sweet, so intimate, with the person he loved more than anything else? Surely this was all unreal.