#i would say my rice is better than my mother's bc i actually try to make it how youre supposed to...

[berrymeter]

most of all i wanna make it shitty breakfast so bad

[solitaireships]

Cultural Reconnection

Happy Lunar New Year! To celebrate, I wanted to do a little selfship fic, and I decided with this one to do a modern AU focused on Helena and Chae-Yeong, partially bcs they have the same backgrounds as me with that so I know a little more about Seollal (Korean new year) things from my irl attempts to connect more with my culture

Full disclosure here, like Helena and Chae-Yeong, a lot of what I know about Seollal celebrations are things that I have recently taught myself from doing research online. This may not be a 100% accurate with how things are celebrated, and if it's not, I would appreciate anyone who knows more giving feedback! While it won't change things with this fic, bcs they also are still learning how to celebrate this properly, it'd help me out with my future LNY celebrations

Rating: Gen

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2325 words

Divider by saradika

Helena doesn’t cook very often. It’s not that she’s a bad cook, but with her and Chae-Yeong both hating being in the kitchen with other people, Chae-Yeong tends to be the one to make dinner more often than not. Helena figures that with how much food they’ll need for tonight’s Seollal celebrations, though, she could handle the majority of the cooking. 

As she cooks, Helena’s in new hanbok that Chae-Yeong had bought for this. She’s had to be careful with it— the last thing she wants to do is stain the light green and pink fabric making up the layers of her clothes. Her hanbok’s chima is longer than any of the dresses or skirts she usually wears, but she likes the way it moves around her as she walks around the kitchen.

In some ways it feels like she’s not supposed to be wearing this— her grandmother never passed on much information about Korean culture to Helena or her mother beyond the food. But she’s worn hanbok before, and she reminds herself that this is a part of her culture, even if it’s something she grew up disconnected from. 

It helps that Chae-Yeong’s in a similar boat to Helena. Both of them are a quarter Korean, both of them didn’t get many cultural things passed down to them, and both of them look white. Helena is used to feeling out of place everywhere she goes, never really feeling like she belongs to any community fully. But with Chae-Yeong, she actually feels like she’s not alone. 

Trying to fill the many gaps in her knowledge of Korean culture is more fun with Chae-Yeong, though. That’s another thing that makes Helena feel less alone, less like she’s an imposter and doesn’t really count as Korean. And as Helena finishes up making their rice cake soup hopes that she’s able to make Chae-Yeong feel the same way. 

“The soup is done, starlight!” Helena calls. 

“Smells good,” Chae-Yeong says, coming into the kitchen with a bottle of sparkling cider in hand. She looks pretty in hanbok— she's dressed in has a bright red skirt and a black jeogori. The silver and pink norigae she’s wearing is a nice touch too with its butterfly charm, standing out from the rest of the outfit.

Helena thinks this look suits her well. Her hanbok even matches with the red and black paint along her prosthetic arm and leg. It seems to match her perfectly, and is a good reminder to Helena of just how pretty her wife is. 

“Thanks,” Helena says. “Did you get the rest of the table set up?”

“Mhm.” Chae-Yeong sets the bottle down on the counter, digging through their drawers to find a bottle opener. “We’ll just need to get the last of the hot stuff plated, then everything will be ready.”

Helena turns off the stovetop. “Great. I’m hungry after cooking all day.”

“I’m sure it’ll all taste amazing, yeobo,” Chae-Yeong says. “Do you want me to help plate stuff?”

“If it won’t make you annoyed,” Helena replies, half teasing. 

Chae-Yeong rolls her eyes but smiles. “Putting food on plates and cooking are too different things. And it’s not like you’re better.”

“I’m not. But it’s always good to be safe, you can get scary when you feel like it.”

“I don’t get scary.”

“Yeah, you do.” Helena nudges Chae-Yeong’s side as she walks past with a plate of bulgogi. “You look pretty like that, though.”

Chae-Yeong laughs, pausing the process of scooping some rice from their rice cooker to look at Helena. “You’re the only person in the world who could think I’m attractive when I’m mad.”

“Mhm, which is part of why I’m very lucky to have married you,” Helena says. 

Chae-Yeong gives her one last little affectionate look before they both go back to plating their food. It’s a lot of work to do, but between the two of them, they’re able to get the job done quickly. Helena switches to bringing plates over to the table, doing what she can to remember where everything is supposed to be placed.

This isn’t like her and Chae-Yeong’s normal dinner arrangements. They have food set up practically covering every inch of it. At one end of the table is a collection of fruits such as Asian pears and apples, with a row of vegetables set up on plates behind it. The third row at the back of the table is where they set up their bowls of rice along with plates full of japchae and bulgogi. There’s a spot near the middle of that back row for the rice cake soup which Chae-Yeong brings in in two large bowls. Behind the table is a folding paper screen, one set up there especially for today. They’ve also set up a candle on either side of the table’s middle row, which Helena lights as she waits for Chae-Yeong.

It’s a lot of food for the two of them to eat. Far more than they’d usually prepare. Helena’s never been a big eater, and just looking at everything laid out in front of them is almost intimidating. 

The food isn’t all for them, though. This year they’re trying something new. A part of Seollal is honoring ancestors with charye rites, and this year they’ll be making their first attempt at performing that. 

Preparing an offering table was Helena’s idea. She wasn’t sure how Chae-Yeong would feel about it. Chae-Yeong’s relationship with her family was never a good one, and if she didn’t want to be part of the charye rites, Helena would have understood. Only Chae-Yeong’s biological father even seemed remotely worth honoring. Maybe none of Helena’s ancestors are either— her relationship with her maternal grandparents had been tense for years, and she doesn’t know much about any of her relatives beyond her grandparents. 

But this is something that’s part of most celebrations of Seollal, and Helena wants to try this at least once. Chae-Yeong agreed to this too, and if nothing else Helena will be glad that she gets to do this with her wife. They had to make some substitutions, though— Helena read that alcohol is usually offered to ancestors, but neither of them drink so instead they opted for a sparkling cider. Incense is also used for charye rites too, but the smell makes Helena feel sick so instead they have a reed diffuser set up on the table by the vegetables. 

“Are you ready to do the honors?” Helena asks as Chae-Yeong comes to rest her head on her shoulder.

“If you are,” Chae-Yeong says. “I’m still not sure I’m the best one to be handling this, though. There wasn’t a ton of information about what I’m supposed to be doing online.”

“You’ll do great,” Helena promises, reaching back to give her wife’s hip a quick squeeze.

Chae-Yeong takes a deep breath. It’s rare that she’s ever nervous, but that she’s clearly worried about this is a sign of just how much it matters to her. This is a part of her culture too, a part that neither of them are experienced with. They both want to get this right. 

Knowing Helena’s not alone in this is nice. 

But it’s also nice seeing the way any nerves fade away as Chae-Yeong begins performing the charye rites. She pulls a piece of prayer written in Korean from one of the pockets built into her skirt, placing it on the table before calling out towards their ancestors in a greeting, welcoming them to the table. She’s always been good at coming off as confident even when she’s new to something, and she looks like she’s done this a thousand times as she pours a cup of sparkling cider as an offering. She places a pair of chopsticks on the plate of bulgogi and leaves a spoon in one of the rice bowls. 

Chae-Yeong moves to move the paper screen, unfolding it more so it hides the table from view. Her skirts rustle around her as she makes her way back to Helena. 

“Alright, we’ll have to step out for a bit now,” Chae-Yeong says.

Helena nods and lets her wife lead the way out of the dining room and into their living room.

“Are we supposed to just sit in silence while the ancestors eat?” Helena asks as she closes the door behind her.

“I don’t know, I couldn’t find anything about that when I was figuring this out,” Chae-Yeong admits. She takes a seat on the couch. “I’d say we try to be quiet just to be safe. That feels more ceremonial.”

“Okay.”

Helena sits down next to Chae-Yeong. She doesn’t usually like sitting around in silence for a long time— her mind wanders easily, and usually it wanders towards rumination and everything in her life that’s stressing her out. But with Lunar New Year on her mind, she finds her thoughts going to better things for once.

She wonders what her great-grandparents would have thought of her and Chae-Yeong. She never met them, and she never heard stories about them either. There are no puzzle pieces for her to put together, there’s no story she can create from scraps of information. Most of her family tree is a mystery to her even as she honors them. 

But Chae-Yeong’s not a mystery at all. Helena knows how to read her unlike anyone else, knows every single one of her little quirks by heart. She’s someone who makes sense, and Helena’s always grateful for their similarities. She makes life so much better for her, and she hopes that regardless of who her great-grandparents or even her great-great-grandparents were, they’d at least be proud of her for finding someone she can be herself around. Maybe they’d be proud of her for reconnecting with her roots, for trying to follow cultural traditions even if it took her a long time to do so. 

Family is weird, and it’s complicated, but Helena hopes that there’d be someone in Chae-Yeong’s family that’s happy for her too. And if no one else is, then Helena will be proud of her for them. 

The five minutes they’re away from the dining room pass quickly. Chae-Yeong’s leg brushes against Helena, getting past her skirt so that she can feel the plastic of her prosthetic foot brushing against Helena’s lower leg. 

Chae-Yeong breaks the silence with a cough. “We’re good to head back in.”

Helena gets up first, waiting a second for Chae-Yeong to get up after her. She stretches as she gets up, making a soft grunting noise.

Nothing’s different as the two of them make it back into the dining room, though Helena feels like it should be. She hopes that this is what they’re supposed to be doing, as Chae-Yeong makes her way to the table again. She moves to put the folding screen back in its original position, revealing the table again. She goes to take the chopsticks from the bulgogi, then the spoon from the rice bowl.

“We’re supposed to bow four times now,” Chae-Yeong says as she rejoins Helena. “It’ll help send the ancestors back to the spirit world.”

Helena hums in response, taking four deep bows along with Chae-Yeong. She hopes that if anyone is watching from the other side, they appreciate the food she and Chae-Yeong prepared for them. 

Chae-Yeong strides over to the table again, now taking the written prayer from it and burning it over the candle. The ashes fall down onto the table, and Helena notes that next year they should use a tablecloth. 

“Okay,” Chae-Yeong says. “Since we don’t have any ritual things outside of that prayer, I think that’s about it aside from eumbok.”

“Great,” Helena says. Now it’s her turn to step up to the table.

It’s hard to say if that’s what the ceremony was supposed to be like when she has no frame of reference for it. Now that it’s over, she can’t help but worry that they did this wrong. She heard that people usually eat dried fish for Seollal— they didn’t have any of that, maybe that means the food offerings aren’t right. And they might not have done the ceremony itself right either, it was hard trying to find resources online about how to do this. She knows that she’s probably being irrational, and she’s probably holding herself to too high standards, but worry still eats at her. 

“I think we might be doing this wrong,” Helena says, frowning down at the table. 

“Maybe,” Chae-Yeong replies. Her arms wrap around Helena’s waist as she hugs her from behind. “But I like trying this with you.”

Helena can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah. I like it too.”

It’s not perfect. Helena knows it never will be, no matter how much she wishes she could push everything into place. But she thinks she can be content with imperfection if Chae-Yeong is. 

So she leans back to give Chae-Yeong a quick kiss on the cheek.

“How about we go ahead and eat, then?” she suggests.

“Sounds good.”

As they sit down at a corner of the table, Helena looks at all of the food laid out before them. It’s impressive to think about how much they managed to make in one day, and even if things aren’t perfect, Helena thinks now that she’s happy with how things turned out. They’re definitely going to have a lot to eat, though, and she’s sure they’ll be eating leftovers for a long time after this. 

Helena takes a slice of Asian pear, offering it to Chae-Yeong. She takes it between her teeth, biting off a piece with an affectionate look at Helena. 

She’s lucky to be going into this new year with Chae-Yeong. Everyday with her is a gift. And Helena hopes that when they eat their rice cake soup, symbolizing growing a year older with the lunar new year, this will be one of many more years spent together.

[mallowstep]

I could totally see a teacher who doesn't know about the whole family background getting mad at a parent-teacher conference after seeing Feathertail and being like "Hawkpaw! This is unacceptable! You can't just pay an older student to come here so you don't get in trouble with your parents!" And refusing to believe that this young women is actually his mother.

yeah. she does like. she knows their kindergarten teachers and she's around the elementary school enough that they all know her, but in intermediate school...

(if you don't have one of those it's like. elementary school k-3, intermediate 4-6, middle 7-8, high school 9-12. or so. there's always variation. anyway we're going with this set up bc it allows me to have this happen)

but he's about 10? so she's 25? and his teacher just -- assumes she's his older sister.

("I'm sorry, Feathertail, but this is supposed to be with his parents."

"I'm his mother."

The teacher blinks, unyielding.

"I have an ID. You can pull up his records." Hawkpaw smiles at her, slightly, fiddling with the folders of work he's supposed to show her. "But I'd rather spend this time talking about my son."

"I'll confirm this later," the teacher decides. "But Hawkpaw, understand that if you're lying, this is very serious. It'd be better to come clean now."

"She's my mom," Hawkpaw says. "Are you like this with every parent?")

("She's my mom," Hawkpaw says. "Are you like this with every parent?"

He wants to say, No, only the college students pretending to be parents, but that seems unnecessarily provocative.

"We can begin," he says, satisfied. Hawkpaw puts his folder on the table. He starts with the bad.

"I've got a lot of unfinished assignments," he says, softly.

"And did you ask if you could make them up for partial credit?"

Hawkpaw looks back at him. "You'd have to actually ask me."

Hawkpaw sighs. He keeps going through his prepared list, ending on his best essay so far.

"Alright, Hawkpaw, you can wait in the hall." Hawkpaw closes his folder, sliding it into his cubby on the way out.

Feathertail watches him leave, then faces forward again, expectant.

"If Hawkpaw's convinced you to go along with this, I won't tell him you said anything."

Feathertail closes her eyes for a moment. "The one year," she mutters. She shakes her head slightly. "I have two more of these to go to, tonight," she says, sighing.)

yeah. mothpaw and frogpaw also get questions, but. feathertail is very done. it doesn't help that feathertail only has a few inches on a set of fourth graders.

stonefur offers to go with her next year, but feathertail is just annoyed. like she's 25 not 15.

the triplets are also somewhat to sincerely confused about why everyone is so weird about it.

("Did they ask you if you were lying about Mom?" Hawkpaw asks.

Mothpaw nods. "I mean, she signs all of the forms. They have her name."

"It's really weird," Frogpaw agrees. "I mean, why would we even lie about that? Conferences are technically optional.")

also they have to do a family history project that year. feathertail emails their teachers like "hey asking my kids to research their family online is a terrible idea. they are ten. please don't. also please don't make them present anything publicly."

all three teachers are Understanding tho so that's good. it's kind of awkward bc they're like. i don't even Know. but it's better than the alternative.

related: feathertail picking up hawkpaw after the debate freshman year ready to murder a bitch for suggesting hawkpaw is in the wrong.

("He disrupted an important presentation, swore, and was generally disrespectful."

Feathertail turns. Hawkpaw is waiting with his siblings, all three of them whispering about something.

"He stopped painful and embarrassing private family matters from being debated in front of him."

"With all due respect, the court records are public."

Feathertail narrows her eyes. "If that's your argument, perhaps you should review them. I don't consider much of what they contain appropriate for fifteen-year-olds." She was fifteen, at the time. She hasn't looked at them, not since the trial.

"I've been assured they only had access to approved excerpts."

She wraps her hand around her wrist, squeezing. "Mothpaw texted me which they quoted," she says. "Did anyone tell you?"

The principal looks hesitant.

"If I understand this correctly, they were..." the summer, she remembers because of the sticky heat, the way it clung to everything "...using my testimony in defence of Tigerstar," and how exhausted she was, she thinks that was a summer moment, but no, she's not sure, and no she doesn't know if it was because he was reelected, she had only been on the edge of festivities "something which was horrific to begin with," he had said she did something wrong, but that wasn't uncommon, maybe she set the table wrong "and I don't know why anyone thought that was appropriate to debate to begin with."

"The course is called critical thinking and current events. This is a current event."

"I'm quite aware of that." (She hasn't cooked rice since. They only ever buy it in boxes.) "But I will not accept that my child is in the wrong for trying to stop a 'debate' which shouldn't have been had.)

[worldwidemochiguy]

made for each other (soft! yandere taehyung)

Summary: After Taehyung kidnapped you, you promised yourself would never allow yourself to fall in love with him. It seems Taehyung is determined to make you break that promise.

Word Count: 3.5K

Authors note: this was inspired by a prompt from @kpopgirlbtssvt​ to another writer which was about the reader coming to taehyung for cuddles after being unable to sleep bc she’s sick. I just thought it was such a cute prompt so I decided to write something for it as well <3

You can’t sleep. Five months ago, that wouldn’t have surprised you. After all, having been kidnapped and held hostage by a stranger who said he was in love with you, it would have been more odd if you could sleep easily. But now, coming up to six months in Taehyung’s care, though you had stopped counting after the fourth, you usually find it easy to sink into sleep. The bed Taehyung has given you was much nicer than your old one, the mattress doesn’t have springs that dig into your back and the duvet actually keeps you warm at night. In all honesty, that wasn’t the only thing that improved when Taehyung stole you away.

He took you from your one-bedroom apartment, shitty and way too overpriced for a barely-graduated collage student, even if you were working four separate jobs at the time to make ends meet. Taehyung’s luxury apartment was certainly a lot nicer, and it is less stressful, not having to worry about money or other people, of course, you haven’t seen any other people since Taehyung took you. 

It had taken you a long time to gain this relaxed view of your kidnapping. Honestly, you’re incredulous yourself, but you have come to terms with the fact that you’re never going to escape. It isn’t that bad, living with Taehyung. He always makes sure you’re comfortable and cared for. You have everything your heart desires, except a connection to the outside world. Despite his almost daily declarations of love and desire for you, he had vowed not to touch you. The very night he took you, he promised he would only kiss you once you explicitly asked for it. 

You made a vow too, that night. You promised yourself you would never allow yourself to fall in love with Kim Taehyung. And you were beginning to fear you would have to break your promise.

It’s just because I’m sick, you reason to yourself, I’m not thinking straight, so of course this won’t matter. You wilfully ignore the fact that, despite the fever raging through your body, you’re still mostly coherent. Probably could be completely coherent, if you weren’t so tired. But so far you have been finding it exceedingly difficult to sleep. When you were a young child, your mother would always hold you through the night when you were sick, stroking your hair and singing a soft lullaby to help you drift off. Obviously, going to your mother is out of the question, but the desperation for human contact is a growing urge poisoning your mind.

That same desperation leads your footsteps down the hall at half three in the morning to wait outside Taehyung’s bedroom door. You raise your fist to knock, but hesitate. Are you really going to ask your kidnapper to comfort you? To cuddle you in his bed? It doesn’t matter that he’s attractive, which he is, very attractive, possibly the most beautiful man in the world-

The door swings open, the shock causing you to overbalance and tip directly into the naked chest of whom you had been previously calling the most beautiful man in the world. Taehyung holds you against him for a brief moment, before gently setting you back on your feet with a soft chuckle. 

“I could hear you padding up the hall.” He explains, cooing slightly at the sight of your flushed cheeks, glowing in the darkness. “What do you need, baby?”

“You.” The word slips out before you can stop it, and Taehyung’s brows rise so high they disappear into his hairline. He has the most delighted expression on his face that you have ever seen.

“Well, what do you need me for, baby?” His deep purring voice makes you shiver slightly, which triggers another shiver, due to your illness. Taehyung’s brows shoot down again and furrow, as he shoos you into his room, grabbing a blanket off the bed to wrap around you.

“You’re sick.” The blanket smells like him, and it distracts you as he flutters around you, checking your temperature with his hand and trying to see if you’d lost weight — you’ve only been sick a day, but Taehyung worries about anything that happens to the most important thing in his life. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He demands, and you instantly feel bad.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“But now you’re outside my door.”

“Well, actually, I’m inside your room, now.” You quip and he huffs impatiently, even as a slight smile tugs on his lips.

“What changed your mind?” Here, you become more bashful, trying to avoid his gaze by looking downwards but he tilts your head up with a gentle yet firm grip on your chin. “I need an answer, baby.”

“Well…I…” He hums impatiently, “I couldn’t sleep. My mother would always cuddle me when I was sick, but now I don’t have anyone.”

“You have me.” Taehyung responds immediately.

“…I know. That’s- that’s why I’m here.” Your confidence falters a few times, but you manage to finish your statement. For a second, Taehyung looks confused, but then the widest grin lights up his face — not that you find it endearing or adorable or lovable or whatever — and he holds the corners of his blanket wrapped around you and tugs you closer to him.

“You came here… in the middle of the night… to cuddle with me?” Taehyung sounds like he can barely believe it, and you groan in embarrassment, burying your flaming cheeks in his chest.

“Yes. Now, please, just do it without being too smug.” 

“What would I have to be smug about, my love?” He asks, smugly. 

“Taaeeeee,” you whine, knowing that any term of endearment was his weak spot, “I don’t feel well. Please don’t tease me.” You pout cutely and he coos at you, gathering you up and sweeping you onto the bed where you immediately make yourself comfortable, his scent surrounding you, making you feel better already.

He pauses for a second at the foot of the bed, watching you burrow into his sheets with dark eyes. He then gets into the bed beside you — still shirtless, you note with equal parts excitement and horror — and settles on his back. Before you can even move, he has tugged you onto his chest, with your head against his heartbeat, and his strong arms encircling your waist. Your legs tangle together as you tilt up your head to look at him. He is gazing at you with the most love-filled, adoring expression you had ever seen.

You lay your head back on his chest, vision beginning to swim as your sleepiness overtakes you, and you wonder idly, how bad could it be to let yourself fall in love? 

——-——–——————–——————

You wake up surrounded by warmth and comfort, held protectively in a pair of arms which you never want to leave. In your sleepy state, your subconscious recognises your love for Taehyung and you start burrowing further into his hold, placing lazy kisses wherever you can reach with your eyes still closed.

Taehyung releases a low-pitched growl, the vibration finally waking you up. It takes you a second to realise what you are doing and you sit up hurriedly, cheeks painted a bright red. You then realise that you are effectively straddling Taehyung’s lap, which explains the smug expression on his face, and you try to move off him. He quickly sits up as well, drawing his knees up and pinning you between his legs and his torso. Your hands, lying ineffectually on the rumpled sheets, come up to rest on his shoulders.

You give a pathetic attempt at pushing him away — clearly you don’t actually want him to go — and he laughs, only drawing you closer to him in retaliation until your noses bump. 

“Good morning baby, or, should I say, good afternoon?” Your eyes flick to the clock on the bedside table and you gasp. It was half past noon! You, again, attempt to scramble off his lap, but he stills your squirming by brushing his nose up the side of your neck.

“Don’t worry baby, you needed your sleep. I would gladly stay in bed the whole day with you, if I didn’t have to feed and take care of you.” With that, he gently shifts you onto the bed and stands up, already heading for the door. You frown, and get up to follow him.

“You don’t need to take care of me.”

“Of course I do. I always take care of my possessions, and you, my love, are the most important. Just go back to sleep, I’ll bring you lunch in bed.” Ignoring how the casual possessiveness makes your lower stomach clench pleasantly, you pout, though he can’t see it as he is turned away from you, heading to the kitchen. 

“I don’t want to stay in bed. I’d miss you.” The words slip out before you had a chance to go over them in your head and Taehyung immediately turns around, an adoring expression taking over his face again. 

“You are being a very good girl.” He purrs, looping his arms around your lower back and tugging you into him. Since you’re unwell, you allow yourself the indulgence, and raise yourself on your tiptoes to tuck your face into the crook of his neck. He walks both of you back slowly and then, without warning, spins you around and lifts you up, placing you on the counter with ease. He laughs when you yelp in shock, both at the sudden movement and the coolness of the counter, though it does help soothe your heated skin. 

“What do you want for lunch, baby?” You shake your head,

“I don’t feel well enough to have lunch.” 

“Baby, you have to eat something.” Taehyung sighs, and you give him your best puppy-dog eyes, “What about just rice? It won’t make you too nauseous, but it’ll stop you from feeling hungry.” You think about it for a second before nodding. He rewards your obedience with a sunny smile and you try to ignore how it makes your heart flutter almost painfully. 

Taehyung warns you several times to be careful as he starts boiling the water and preparing the rice. He even warns you about avoiding the cooking knives on the other counter because ‘those things are sharp, baby, I can’t let you get hurt.’ Try as you might, you can’t make yourself view him as overprotective and controlling, knowing now that he only wants to keep you safe because he cares so much about you. 

While you wait for the rice to steam, he quizzes you relentlessly about your symptoms.

“Do you have a headache?” 

“Not really.”

“Do your joints ache?”

“Do my joints ache?” You ask incredulously, “Did you become a doctor or something?” He shoots you an unamused look.

“Answer the question, baby.”

“Yes, my joints ache.”

“Have you been having hot flushes?” As he quizzes you, your eyes drifted down to his still-bare torso, all the way down to the defined V that led into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“A little.” 

“Is your throat sore?”

“Not really.”

“Not really? This is a yes or no question and if you can’t say no, that means yes.”

“I mean, it hurt yesterday, but not today.”

“Your throat hurt yesterday and you didn’t tell me?!” 

“I didn’t think you would care.” Taehyung mutters what sounds like a prayer for patience and then tugs you forwards so you perch on the edge of the counter. Even sitting higher up, he is still taller than you as he crushes you into his chest.

He holds you for what feels like forever, and when he pulls back it is only to press his forehead against yours. His breath fans over your cheeks as his eyes gaze into yours.

“Of course I care, baby. I care about everything you do, or have done, or ever will do. If you sneeze, I want to know. If you think you hurt your ankle, I want to know. If you saw a fucking cloud out the window that you thought looked like a dog, I want to know. Because I love you. I love you and I will keep telling you that until you understand it because, to me, loving someone means they are the most important thing in your life, do you understand? You are the most important thing in my life, and I want to know everything there is to know about you. I know you aren’t used to affection, but you’ll have to get used to it because I’m not going anywhere and-” 

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. He stands still, frozen for a second, but when you whimper softly against his lips, he takes control of the kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth and you melt. His lips slant against yours perfectly and you can feel his hands slowly travelling down to cup your ass. Your own fingers tangle in his hair and start tugging it when he breaks away, giving you space to breathe while he marks your throat.

“Mmh, get back here.” You whine, and he chuckles against your neck.

“Have to mark you up, baby. Have to let everyone know you’re mine.”

“No one else is going to see me, anyway.” You protest, trying to drag him back up to your mouth. The feeling of him marking you was certainly amazing, but you have been waiting half a year to kiss Kim Taehyung and you aren’t about to stop anytime soon.

“You’re so desperate for my kiss, aren’t you?” His ego is swelling dangerously, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Yes, I am. Please kiss me, I’ve been holding myself back for so long, I’m desperate.” You beg shamelessly, and he growls against your throat before rearing up to claim your mouth again, wrapping your legs around his waist to lift you off the counter and pin you against the wall in one seamless movement. 

It is that moment the rice cooker chooses to go off, signalling the rice has finished steaming. Taehyung pulls away slightly, and then smirks when you chase after his lips. He allows you to steal a precious few more kisses before he sets you down on the floor, arms coming up to your waist automatically to steady you when you stumble slightly.

“Baby can’t even stand up without me, huh?” You can’t even deny his smug remark, instead choosing to hang onto his shoulder as he tries to go and check on the rice. “Baby, I have to go and check on the rice. You must be hungry.”

“Rice isn’t what I’m hungry for.” You muttered, and Taehyung’s short intake of breath was the only warning you got before you were pinned against the wall again.

“Naughty girl,” Taehyung purrs, his hand wrapped around your throat, tight enough to keep you still and submissive, but not completely cutting off your air supply. “Bad baby, saying all these naughty things when daddy is trying to be sweet to her.” You whimper, his muscular thigh is right in between your legs but when you try to grind yourself against him for some relief, he tightens his hold on your neck. 

“I think my baby needs to be taught a lesson.” 

“Yes, please- teach me, I need-”

“Please, what, my love?” You try to swallow but it’s difficult with his hand tightening on your throat, your vision begins to darken. 

“Baby, I’m still waiting on an answer here.” Taehyung prompts you. 

“I’m sorry… please- please teach me a lesson, daddy.” His gaze darkens, and you think he’s going to kiss you, you want him to kiss you, but he pulls away. His hand falls away from your throat and he returns to the rice cooker. You stay resting against the wall, trying to even your breathing, and Taehyung puts the rice into a bowl and gets chopsticks for you. 

He moves towards the seating area and you follow him, slightly confused. Your confusion deepens as he sits down on the armchair, rather than a loveseat. Maybe he wants you to sit on his lap? Thankfully, he doesn’t leave you confused for too long. 

“Kneel.” He smiles slightly at the sight of your wide eyes, and attempts to make himself clear. “Kneel by my feet, like the good little pet you are. I’ll feed you, baby, don’t worry.” You felt your knees bending and hitting the floor even before you fully registered his command. Taehyung felt a sense of victorious pride swelling within him as he watched you kneel for him obediently, your pretty lips open and waiting for him to feed you. To be honest, the sight of you on your knees for him made more than just his pride swell. He had been so patient for so long and it had all been worth it to have you as you are now, perfect and perfectly submissive. 

He feeds you the rice slowly, taking care not to give you too much at one time to avoid triggering a stomach ache. Even as your cheeks burn at the humiliation of kneeling at his feet like a dog, you felt a certain amount of comfort at the fact that he cares so much about you that he wants to look after you like this. Once the rice is finished, you yawn and lean against Taehyung’s leg, closing your eyes. You feel his hand start to card through your hair and you know that, if you were a cat, you’d definitely be purring right now. 

“Is my baby tired?” Taehyung questions softly and you nod, jostling his leg slightly.

“Can I take a nap?”

“Of course you can, my love. You have been so good today. My perfect girl.” He praises you as he helps you to your feet. You look up at him, and the breath you have just been taking in abandons you suddenly. 

He is so beautiful. He’s looking at you with such a tender, loving expression and you know in your heart, you have broken your promise to yourself.

You are in love with Kim Taehyung. 

You mask this self-revelation with a soft smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking towards the hallway. You hear Taehyung following behind you, but choose not to acknowledge it. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” You pause, turning around to glance back at him.

“My bedroom. You said I could take a nap.” You pout, and Taehyung smirks,

“What makes you think I’m letting you go back there now that you’ve slept in my bed? Well- our bed.” He doesn’t give you a chance to answer the question before he sweeps you into his arms in bridal style, striding back to his room and depositing you on his bed. He sighs contentedly, watching you acquiesce and make yourself comfortable on the bed.

“You look so beautiful in my bed, my love. You will always sleep here from now on.” You nod sleepily, uncaring of his possessive tone, and make grabby hands at him, wanting him to join you and snuggle in bed. You hear a quiet chuckle before the mattress dips and you are gathered into his arms again. You have never felt so untroubled in all your life. 

He arranges you so that your head is resting on his chest, with your leg thrown over his hip, completely intertwined together, just the way he loves it, and how you are beginning to love too. You raise your head to look at him, finding his dark eyes already watching you affectionately. 

“Taehyung?” Your fever is making you woozy, along with the sleeping pills Taehyung had crushed into the rice. He didn’t want you to have trouble sleeping, and he knows what’s best for his little girl.

“Yes, baby?” He replies and you smile. You can barely see straight but you know you have to tell him something, something important. 

“I love you.” His eyes crinkle as he gives you a wide, boxy smile. It’s the last thing you see before you succumb to exhaustion, your smile still fixed on your lips as your eyes shut. Taehyung takes a second to admire your beauty, before leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too, baby. Every day I’m so thankful that I was made for you, and you for me.”

[lan-xichens]

wait no i also want to recognise that everything you said about wwx is super valid like i feel there's less of a debate there but!! oh shit wait maybe wwx does also have rejection sensitive dysphoria (an emotional sensitivity and pain triggered by the perception that a person has been rejected or criticized by important people in their life. It may also be triggered by a sense of falling short—failing to meet their own high standards or others’ expectations.)

sorry for the complete spam but the rejection sensitive dysphoria can also lead to outbursts when you externalize it, ie in anger etc.- but it can also lead you to become like a people's pleaser (like i kinda do feel this sounds more like wwx) as for the like- starting something and not wanting to stop, i think it's a hyperfocus thing, bc you start something and you get in the flow and then you're afraid to stop bc when you pick it up again you won't feel the same (nd then you overwork yourself)

No no not spam at all! Sorry I couldn’t get to it the other day, but thanks for elaborating on this. But rejection sure is a theme amongst Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng like, oof.

But I definitely see how you brought that up for Jiang Cheng because, his entire life and story seem to revolve around him trying to earn his place and win the respect of those he cares about, but both intentionally and unintentionally, he keeps being sidelined.

First, by his parents:

And, both Jiang Cheng’s looks and personality took after his mother. He hadn’t ever been to Jiang FengMian’s liking. Since birth, he taught him in many ways, yet he still couldn’t change, which was why Jiang FengMian had always seemed as though he didn’t favor him too much.

Jiang Cheng pulled Wei WuXian’s hand away and stood up, letting out his anger, “I know! I know that I don’t have the personality he likes, that I’m not the heir he wants. He thinks that I don’t deserve to be Sect Leader, that I don’t understand the motto of the Jiang Sect, that I don’t have the air of the Jiang Sect in me at all! Those are all true!” - GDC chapter 56

How do you compete for the affection and approval of your parents if one of them rejects your entire being based on your personality? Jiang Fengmian’s favouritism towards Wei Wuxian is one of the massive parts influencing how JC and WWX interact, because there must be so so so much jealousy involved on Jiang Cheng’s part.

But even his mother never pulls her punches in criticising him, and adds fuel to this fire.

Jiang Cheng sat still as he looked up at her, “Mom.”

Madam Yu stood up and mocked, “What do you want me to do? Like your father, you want me to hold my tongue? You really are an idiot. I’ve told you long ago that you’ll never in your whole life be able to surpass the one sitting beside you. Not over cultivation, not over night-hunting, even over shooting kites, you can’t surpass him! It can’t be helped. Who could change the fact that your mom is worse than another’s? Worse it is, then. Your mom feels injustice for you, tells you countless times not to fool around with him, yet you’re still defending him. Just how did I give birth to a son like you?!” - GDC chapter 51

So between the two of his parents, there’s no pleasing either, no matter how hard Jiang Cheng tries to win their approval and live up to their expectations. I feel this is why Wei Wuxian attributes a competitive nature to him, but he misconstrues that; I don’t think Jiang Cheng seeks competition so much as he seeks approval, understanding the expectations of him as the future sect leader. He’s not trying to out-do Wei Wuxian’s cultivation because he wants to be better, necessarily, he just wants to prove to both his parents that he’s not... lesser than him. But he wouldn’t have had to do it if they hadn’t been the ones to constantly pit him against his brother in the first place!

But even with the situation being like that (and while we can address it in meta, I know this is probably not something Jiang Cheng could ever admit to himself or to any close to him lest he insults his parents), but even then, he seems to be able to take it in stride so long as Wei Wuxian doesn’t turn his back on him.

And that’s the unintentional part, because this does sadly happen, at least on the surface.

Their conversation at the Burial Mounds is one I’ve wanted to scream about for so long, because the miscommunications there run so deep you couldn’t see the bottom of it. But focussed on rejection, it’s this:

A while later, Jiang Cheng spoke, “Wei WuXian, have you still not realized what the situation at hand is like? Do you really need me to say it out loud? If you insist on protecting them, then I won’t be able to protect you.”

Wei WuXian, “There’s no need to protect me. Just let go.”

Jiang Cheng’s face twisted. - GDC chapter 73

As some super helpful posts have already pointed out, Wei Wuxian’s defection from the Jiang clan is a disloyal thing to do, regardless of his reasons. But I also think that, to some extent, Jiang Cheng feels it as a personal rejection as well.

CQL adds two very painful exchanges here:

JC: They turn out to be a group of the old, young, and weak. All useless! WWX: All useless? Can’t you speak in a good manner?

Jiang Cheng means they are no threat, so the sect leaders are wrong. Wei Wuxian hears him dismiss the lives of those he must consider worthless. This leads up to:

JC: What on earth are you doing this for? WWX: Jiang Cheng, I’ll tell you honestly. Even if it weren’t for Wen Qing and her brother, or for anyone else, I’d make the exact same choice.

Jiang Cheng asks why he would turn his back on the Jiang clan, Wei Wuxian hears him challenge his righteousness and his reason for protecting the innocent. Wei Wuxian explains he would do the right thing for anyone, Jiang Cheng hears he would always choose to reject the Jiang clan, and by extension himself, no matter for who it was.

This comes back at the Guanyin Temple:

On the other hand, Jiang Cheng refused to give up, shouting, “Wei WuXian, who was the one who broke his promise and betrayed the Jiang Sect first? Tell me. That I’d be the sect leader and you’d be my subordinate, that you’d help me your whole life, that so long as the GusuLan Sect had its Two Jades, the YunmengJiang Sect would have its Two Prides, that you’d never betray me or betray the Jiang Sect—who was the one that said these?! I’m asking you—who was the one that said all these?! Did you eat all your fucking words?!”

He got more agitated as he ranted on, “And in the end? You go and protect outsiders, haha! The Wen Sect’s people, even. How much of their rice did you eat?! Defecting with such resolution! What did you take our sect to be?! - GDC chapter 102

Actually, while I love rewatching this scene as so many things keep jumping out at me, it’s even better to reread this part in the novel. I’d forgotten how much extra background we get on just how far this misunderstanding goes.

Why does Wei Wuxian tell him to let things go, and not to keep this matter in his heart?

Wei WuXian pressed his temples, “Forget it. It’s all in the past now. Let’s not mention it again.”

It wasn’t something he liked to reminisce about. He didn’t want to be reminded again and again of what it felt like when his core was cut out or what price he had to pay. If this were exposed in the past, he’d most likely laugh and comfort Jiang Cheng, ‘It’s not that big of a deal anyways. Look at me all these years. Without the core, I still managed to come through, didn’t I? Beating everyone I wanted to beat, killing everyone I wanted to kill.’ But now, he indeed didn’t have the strength left to put up such a confident, nonchalant pretense. - GDC chapter 103

Maybe I was the one who misintrepreted this line in my head, but CQL makes it seem so much like Wei Wuxian is fully at peace with giving up his core, and he wants to impress on Jiang Cheng to find his peace with it as well. But in truth, it’s exactly the opposite, because Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to admit to how difficult it was and still is for him, but he doesn’t want to show him that his decision haunts him.

Which just smacks of a conversation they still need to have.

And also begs the question why CQL went for the second bolded line; why have Wei Wuxian smile and comfort him and try to soothe things over? It was an incredibly sweet moment, sure, but the words were so confusing to me, and now I see why. His heart shouldn’t have been in it at all.

None of this addresses Wei Wuxian’s relationship with rejection at all - how he always struggles to find his place and to solidify his standing with certain people, but how it’s always on loose screws. But the way he treats himself as disposable, especially towards the Jiang clan, was still the whole catalyst for this situation in the first place.

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Those Shoes (Ch.3)

Song Inspired: I Want You by Savage Garden

Notes: @youtubequeens Hope you stay hydrated and have a lovely time! <3 Here’s this bit for now :3

Warnings: Creepy people, not getting the hint that a person’s uncomfortable, unwanted flirting, and talk about emotions bc honestly what are they?

He smiled as Eijirou took a bite of his onigiri, Tamaki sighed softly at his younger brother, as said boy had specks of sticky rice on his face.

It was a lazy Sunday morning, the boys were home from school, and Taishiro was enjoying his day off.  

“Did ya have a good day at work, Papa?” The ruby-eyed boy inquired, and Tai smiled, ruffling his hair.

“Ya bet I did, kiddo.”

 He didn’t tell his boys what he had exactly did for a living, but he promised himself that he would, in the future. So far, all they knew is that he was a professional dancer.

“Dancing must be hard.” Tamaki broke the silence after chewing on his scrambled egg, and his father laughed.

“Nah. It takes a lotta practice. Did you boys had fun at yer day at school?” He pondered, sipping from his cup of coffee.

“Yeah! There was a nice new boy who was shy! There were some mean kids, but I protected him!” Eijirou rambled excitedly. Taishiro chuckled, and then looked at Tamaki.

“Mirio fell in a puddle. Face first. I had to take him to the nurse.” He shrugged, yet Taishiro didn’t miss the soft glint that speckled in his eyes. He smiled.

“That kid’s pretty resilient, huh? Anyways, eat yer breakfast, then we’ll head out to the park, alright?”

………………

It was a pretty November day. Skeleton trees hovered beneath the rich blue sky as your shoes crunched up against the fallen colorful leaves. Although it hasn’t been a week, yet, you were slowly re-adapting to your hostess job, and nit and tucking the dancer’s clothes.

You were surprised on how many had requested your services, staying absolutely still as you kept a cool facade, keeping the pointed needle from digging into skin as you measured, cut, and sewed loose fabric. You believed in your abilities, yet it felt as if it didn’t matter.

You weren’t good at holding the obvious flirty conversations that somehow were being thrown at you out of nowhere. They would giggle, and you had to still your hand so that you couldn’t accidentally jab their shaking bodies, whilst trying to be polite.

Where did the sudden interest come from? You wondered. Your mother, undoubtedly, was on high alert as she noticed it, too. The flirting, joking, the inquiring questions. Luckily, the fitting room had a camera, and thankfully, your patients had known it too, so they were extra careful in not doing anything that was against the regulations. Your mother was watching, you all knew.

Speaking of which, she did not try to make things better. She would wink, or make subtle little jokes, as she explained that it was good for business. You couldn’t help but press your mouth in a firm line.

You worked so hard, finding the perfect materials, ignoring your own discomfort as you bit the bullet and tried to focus on making the outfit snug and resilient, while the owners ignored your tense shoulders and set jaw. You were appalled, as they used alluring honeyed words, directed your attention to a “loose” fabric between their thighs, and so on.

You, feeling a surge of retaliation, growled out that it would cost extra for you to fix certain areas, and preferred that the outfit was on a mannequin, instead.

Your spitfire attitude had certainly weeded out a few of the unwanted customers, but, gained some more who thought it was a challenge. You didn’t miss the look of sheer pride from your mother, however, as she sported a wicked grin.

“That’ll teach them. Might make your blond a little less jealous.” She winked, and you paled in question. He was jealous? Of what? You were only doing your job, charging the dancers a certain amount, and giving your mother, your boss, a small part of the revenue as she requested. Although a thorn in your side, she was also a beautiful rose, and you knew that she was helping you in her own way, thus, opening your eyes more to the situation.

It didn’t take you long to realize, that yes, he was jealous, and you were too busy to acknowledge the possibility, until your mother had to basically tell you. So, you took your time to observe your surroundings.

Daggers for a stare had met each and everyone of the customers who had followed you into the fitting room, you’ve seen. While hosting, you started to take breaks to watch him, much to the oddly placed chagrin in the other dancers. His style was a little different, more suave and seductive, rather than downright dirty. Back against the pole, he slid up slowly as he jutted out his chin, staring at you through blond lashes while sucking suggestively at one of his suckers, hardly minding the crowd as he gave you a show that was basically personal.  

He was addictive, you couldn’t help but think. His outfits, dances, and downright attitude made the other’s shadow in comparison.

 It brought you back to the present. Your feet shuffled against the dirt as you pushed yourself on the swing, breathing out huffs of warm air that meshed with the chilly atmosphere.

 He didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable, either. He did make a request, to tuck in a few strings into his nurse outfit, you remembered it so clearly. He had strutted into your office around the right time, white fishnet stockings and heels blended in nicely with the light aqua blue fabric that left very little to the imagination.

“Jus’ some strings near the neck, Sugar. Might even give ya a sucker if ya behave.” He winked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how corny it was, earning a smug smile and tinted cheeks. Although a little flirty, he stood perfectly still as you fixed the frayed mess that was near his clavicle, feeling his warmth resonate around you as you couldn’t help but seep it in. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything about it. How you could feel a thundering, fast-paced heartbeat underneath your fingertips, despite his cocky facade, your face blushing immensely, or how the atmosphere seemed as if it might just break from underneath the metaphorical weight between the two of you.

However, true to his word, he began letting out pieces of information.

“We actually go to the same college.”

 You stopped to stare at him with full surprise.

“What? Really?”

“Well, ya graduated before I did, but I live near the campus. I…kinda saw ya every day. Not as a stalker!” He rushed before you could think of anything.

“-as in, my road to the school kinda passes your road, and I couldn’t help but not look away when ya were…ya know…It’s a very connected town, so I’ve seen ya…around.”

Then it hit you.

“Ah, so you must’ve seen me doing volunteer work?” You murmured, and he nodded.

“Well, yeah. You’re a familiar face. Couldn’t really ignore ya, ‘specially when you’re bein’ so wonderful half the damned time. Ya don’t know me, and I know it might be a lil’ creepy, but I promise ya that I don’t mean to be.” He babbled, face tinting a little more pink, and your ears burned from the forward acknowledged statement.  

So he noticed your volunteer work, and where you lived, and yet you didn’t really see him creeping around the bushes, or any tall figure of his build stalking around, for instance.

“So…is this why you have a sudden interest?” You asked, and you heard him swallow thickly.

“Pretty much. Doesn’t help that you’re kinda allurin’. Like a magnet.” He finished lamely, eyes shifting as he bit his bottom lip, and you couldn’t believe the shy signals that he was giving off as your own cheeks burned.

“Ah. Um…yeah.” You couldn’t help but say, and he snorted. You jutted your chin up and was about to give him a piece of your mind.

“We’re both kinda terrible at this. Anyways, that’s what I wanted to tell ya. Been seein’ ya around and makin’ the world a better place, an’ so I couldn’t help but like ya.” He waved off your short-lived glare as your expression softened.

“I don’t understand? You’re shy but not?” You questioned, nipping the small extra thread that you’ve already tucked in.

He shrugged.

“Emotions are emotions. Ya do things to me that I can’t explain, and I make ya into a flustered mess, and vice versa. I was at first too fuckin’ scared to really say or do anything, because the last thing I wanna be, is to be a creepy stalker in yer eyes.”

“I think I understand. As I don’t believe that you are a stalker…um…how do you? How did you-”

“Body language is a dead giveaway. Studyin’ to be a therapist. Plus, it’s relievin’ to get another validation that ya don’t find me creepy. ‘Specially after hearin’ my story.” He grinned, and your shoulders relaxed as you finished up your work.

“Ah, all done?” He pouted, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You have another appointments, as well as my number.” You reasoned, and his eyes lit up.

“So, I could call ya?” He asked hopefully, and you found yourself nodding before you could comprehend what he said.

“Awesome. I’ll see ya around, Chickadee.” He hummed, digging into his wallet as he paid you upfront, letting his hand brush against yours, and yet you didn’t mind. All too fleeting, he sauntered away, but not before giving you a final look.

“The ball is in yer hands, in whichever ya want this to be. Although, I gotta up my game, if I wanna keep the competition at bay.” He winked, and then turned to leave the room. The wheels in your head had seemed to stop, before whirling again with realization.

So, he was aware of it all? The flirting and unwanted attention that you were gaining? As if he had to compete against anybody, you couldn’t help but think.

He wasn’t like the other “suitors” who were more aggressive and rude, you couldn’t help but think, your chest fluttering at the idea of him being your partner.

It’s been three days after that. You did shoot him a text, and almost immediately, he responded. He was forward with his interest, and you were still in a bit of confusion, why he, still a stranger, had decided to pursue you so quickly. You couldn’t help but think that the stars must have aligned in the both of your favor, or that it must have been fate, for you couldn’t help but start to like him, as well.

His forward approach, his respectful nature, the duality of his emotions, on how he could be so forward, and yet somehow kind of shy, he hunted at a distance, not too close or disrupting your boundaries, while never failing to look for you, or put on a show.

An excited voice rambled you out of your thoughts, a very, familiar excited voice, and your attention snapped towards the direction at the upcoming person, or people.

……………………………….

He sucked. He was a sucker, and he let his emotions get the best of him. Why did he have to spill out everything? Now she knew that he was an eager fool, and he didn’t mention the most important part; his two boys. Although not biologically his, blood didn’t matter, they were his sons.  

Of course, while in his interest in pursuing, he was so caught up with classes, dancing, and raising his kids, a lot of things had passed his mind. He remembered laying in the darkness of his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling as his heart clenched.

What if she was only attracted to his dancing? The two of them had never made plans to meet outside of work, and if they did, would she be turned off by his more shy attitude? His more softer, meeker side? Unwanted thoughts swirled within his head.

He was making a mistake, he was putting too much time into a woman who he barely knew, and if she did like him, would she like his boys? They would always be his first and top priority, he could never lower their needs before a potential future partner.

Growling, he picked up his phone, searching for her contact. He began typing, and re-typing as he made sure that the sentence sounded perfect.

Me: I know it’s late, but do ya wanna go to the park, tomorrow around 9 am?

He bit his lip and pressed send. It’ll just be a hang out, he told himself. He’ll bring his sons, and if she reacted negatively, he would stop cold. Maybe move to another club. It was his fault for not mentioning that he had kids, and he didn’t blame her for not wanting to deal with him for not telling her in the first place. She was an adult, she could make her own decisions, and children might not be her priority, and he could respect that. The fated ding of his phone pulled him out of his thoughts.

Chickadee: Sure. It’s supposed to be chilly, tomorrow, so wear something warm.

His cheeks felt like fire as his heart warmed up from the thoughtfulness. A chuckle escaped his throat. Even while texting, she still used proper grammar, and he couldn’t help but find that adorable. He kind of hoped that she wouldn’t be upset that he had kids, and he wouldn’t force her into anything that she didn’t want, if he did break it to her that he wanted to see her as a partner.

He was a dumb mess, he told himself. However, he wouldn’t mind to have her as a good friend, if anything else. He couldn’t help but like her, and she had a blunt, straight to the point attitude mixed in with that sweetness.

……………….

    “-lunch lady?!” A voice gasped in shock, the three familiar figures caught your full attention. Time stood still as you recognized the two small boys instantly, and behind them, stood none other than Taishiro. Surprise had hit you, but you couldn’t help but feel joy as little arms wrapped around your leg as you stopped the swing, seeing Eijirou glanced up at you with a toothy smile and bright eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile, pinching his cheeks a little as he giggled.  

“Hey, um, small world?” Taishiro asked, breaking you out of your trance.

“I volunteered at the orphanage a while back. That’s amazing, I’m so glad to you two, again.” You explained, looking at the boys.

“It’s good to see you, as well.” Tamaki said softly, and you smiled at the slightly older boy who gripped Taishiro’s jacket.  

“Oh, that’s pretty neat. Ya were in dietary?” He asked, sitting down on the swing next to you, Tamaki following closely. You looked down a bit shyly.

“Um, yeah. They were kind of short staffed, that year, and I was a pretty familiar face, so they asked, and I said yes.” You rambled, and he chuckled.

“You’re right about the pretty part.” He winked, and you huffed out a surprised laugh.

“Do you ever not flirt?” You inquired, and he grinned.

“I don’t flirt as much as ya think. Anyways, I wanted to know, if ya like to hang out with us, for the day?” He murmured softly at the end, and you felt yourself smile a little.

“I’d like to. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the boys. Although I missed the children, I couldn’t really stay, had college to go through, you know? It’s good that they’ve been adopted.” You rambled, watching Tamaki push Eijirou gently on the swing next to yours, the shyest of smiles graced the raven-hair’s features as the two were basically in their own little world.

“When I first came to this town, I didn’t really have anybody. So I took some time to think it over, and decided to adopt. They’ve been the light of my life for three years, now. Can’t imagine bein’ without ‘em.” He said softly, and you felt a burst of warmth envelop you.

“It’s good that they have a good dad. Do they know of your-?” You let the sentence hang, and he shook his head.

“Later. I doubt that they’ll judge, but I don’t want ‘em to know, just yet.”

It surprised you on how easy it was to make small talk, each of you opening up a little bit more. You fixed Tamaki’s coat, brushing the hair out of his eyes slightly when Taishiro had offered the group to get hot chocolate from the coffee shop that was near, chuckling as Eijirou’s eyes widened with pure glee.

Tamaki gripped your hand, Eijirou gripped Taishiro’s, and Taishiro held your free hand as the four of you crossed the street, and you couldn’t help but feel warmth at the domesticated atmosphere within your little group.

You wouldn’t mind if these sudden feelings stayed a little while longer.

[inspired-by-the-music]

Lost In Your Eyes: Heechul x Reader

Genre: high school au;  i’m a believer in fluffy endings, but there are some kind of deep issues explored in this work. namely, beauty standards. 

Word Count: 10k (this is actually my longest drabble!)

Tracklist: “Lost In Your Eyes” by Debbie Gibson & “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany (bc your girl is 80s pop trash)

Note: y’all why do I have no self control when it comes to Heechul? this was literally just supposed to be a short piece based on a dream I had & it became a novella lol. honestly, I could have kept writing this forever & I could definitely be convinced to revisit this story’s universe!

fyi: to explore the themes of this story, the reader character is of Korean and Hispanic heritage. 

You almost made it through high school without attracting a single boy. While you didn’t rejoice in that fact, you certainly weren’t losing sleep because the high school boys didn’t fawn over your naturally curly hair and eternally bronzed skin. Long ago, you had accepted that you did not fit their standard of beauty; you never would. 

“There are far more important things than boys,” your father said often— whenever he found time to look up from the books that detailed the financial records of the Korean-Mexican restaurant he operated with your mother. 

You believed him just as much as you believed your mother when she patted your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your cheek, saying, “You’re beautiful, baby.” 

And yet, when your father hired him to work as a host and server so you could focus on studying for the upcoming graduation exams, you wondered if he would look at you if you resembled the girl on the cover of the magazine you read while stuffing your mouth full of rice. 

His name was Heechul— or so you gathered from your father’s praises of his salesmanship and the excited chatter of girls who visited the restaurant, clad in tiny shorts and bikini tops, just to get a look at him. 

“Come on now, ladies.” He would wink at the girls when they delayed in placing an order as long as possible in an effort to admire him for as long as possible without having to pay for food they didn’t care to eat. “You’ll order something, won’t you? Every penny you spend here goes toward my dream of buying a new motorcycle. Maybe if you help me enough, I’ll take you for a ride.” 

Heechul’s dream changed every day. Sometimes, he dreamed of buying a new motorcycle, sometimes a new car, sometimes a new guitar or a new drum set (that he would use to write a song especially for whoever bought the most food). The girls never noticed that he never held a dream for long; they were all too happy to be a part of his fantasy of the day. 

You couldn’t blame them for leaning into his every word. Aside from the fact that he was beautiful— his sleek shoulder-length black hair often falling from its ponytail to frame his face— Heechul crafted his sentences carefully. They probably didn’t recognize his wit. How could they even notice it when they were lost in his eyes or enchanted by his smile? 

You could appreciate Heechul’s cleverness at first, though, because you only heard his punchlines while reviewing a practice test or while penning your answers to a magazine quiz to learn which K-Pop idol would totally fall for you. Heechul didn’t look at you, so you couldn’t get lost in his eyes. He didn’t smile at you, and yet you were very much enchanted by him long before he sat in the seat across from you in the corner booth. 

“Hey.” His eyes met yours over the top of the magazine. Tapping his index finger against the cover, he asked, “Is this nonsense really more important than your studies, Y/N?”

Burning with the question, “How does he know my name?” you dropped the magazine onto the table and closed it over your open textbooks. Heechul pointed again to the neon decal advertising, “Want porcelain skin like your crush’s ideal type? Try these 5 tricks!”

“No.” You shook your head. “That’s not important to me at all. I was reading about this.” With your pink highlighter, you circled the text: “How to tell him you’re not interested.” 

Heechul’s face flushed pink when he met your gaze, and once he recognized the teasing smile spreading across your face, he laughed. That high pitched scream of a laugh didn’t seem like it should have come from such a delicately pretty face, but it did; it turned heads, and the stares deepened your own laughter. 

“Careful there,” he warned, expression suddenly grave. “You almost had me convinced that you weren’t interested in my attention.” 

When you shrugged, feigning disinterest, and dropped your gaze back to the magazine as you flipped through its pages, Heechul yelped, “Hey! If you’re going to neglect your studies, at least pay attention to me!”

He snatched your magazine and fanned himself with it so the hair that escaped his ponytail blew in the breeze. He smirked at your glare— apparently of the belief that all attention is good attention— and you realized that Heechul wasn’t talking to you because of any genuine interest. He just couldn’t live knowing that he hadn’t stared into the eyes of every girl who entered the restaurant. 

You had been content with being just another girl who admired Heechul, but you didn’t want to be another girl who inflated his ego. You didn’t want to be another girl who felt special just because he glanced your way. 

Frowning at the realization that you couldn’t like him anymore— and you really enjoyed having such a harmless crush before he ruined it— you asked, “Shouldn’t you be working?”

Heechul retorted, “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

Hoping to drive him away by refusing him any attention you agreed, “You’re right,” before grabbing a pencil and reading through the instructions of the next practice test. 

Heechul groaned at the lack of admiration and jumped out of the booth. “Right. So you don’t get distracted again, young lady—” he couldn’t have been more than a year or two older, so you rolled your eyes at his condescending language— “I’ll be confiscating this.” He flashed his glittering teeth when you watched him tauntingly lift the magazine higher and higher out of your reach. 

“Give that back, Heechul!” You hissed as you stood in your seat to reach for the magazine. It hadn’t cost much, and you weren’t all that interested in it, but that wasn’t the point. 

Who was he to make you feel small— first figuratively with his games and then literally by holding your property over your head? He couldn’t get away with being annoying just because he was gorgeous. 

Except he could. His behavior had probably been excused every day of his life on account of his appearance. And he probably never paused to consider how his actions— how flaunting his good looks— impacted others. 

“Oh, so you do know my name!” Heechul jumped as you tried to grab at the magazine. “It actually sounds better than usual when you say it. Do it again!”

Your fingers caught the cover, but Heechul wouldn’t loosen his grip around the pages, so when you pulled, the staples binding the magazine together snapped. Brightly colored pages depicting celebrities’s faces, detailing fashion advice, and instructing teen girls in the art of appealing to boys scattered across the recently mopped floor. They were ruined. 

Heechul’s wide, guilty eyes met yours briefly before he set to gathering each page while muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

You would have accepted his apology if you weren’t crumbling under the stares of the customers, many of whom were young women who hated you for holding Heechul’s attention for a moment when you were clearly so unworthy— so unappreciative. Too embarrassed to speak, you slumped into your seat, crossed your arms over the table, and buried your face in the bend of your elbow. 

“I’m sorry,” Heechul repeated. Had you looked up, you would have seen how delicately he placed the poorly stacked pages on the table’s corner. You would have seen how he leaned forward, his face almost level with yours, to implore you to look at him so all could be forgiven. 

You didn’t look, though, because you didn’t want him to see your face scorched by a crimson blush. “Just throw the pages away, please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You doubted whether he could see that you nodded into your elbow, but when you looked up minutes later (after the waves of embarrassment subsided) the remnants of the magazine were gone along with every trace of Heechul. 

Of course, you hadn’t been foolish enough to think that you wouldn’t see Heechul again just because he had taken care to avoid your table for the rest of his shift. You knew that it was likely just a matter of time until he spoke to you again, but you hadn’t expected his next correspondence to come so soon through a note that you found on your table. 

After tossing your backpack into the booth, you read what he scrawled onto a sticky note likely grabbed from the host’s booth: “Sorry I ripped your magazine. Here’s a new one. And here’s my number if you want to call/text to cuss me out.” Carefully, you peeled the note off of the magazine and saw that Heechul used a red marker to circle a featured article titled “Five Ways To Say Sorry.”

It was silly: the fact that he had gone so far to apologize for ruining a cheap magazine filled with superficial thoughts you were supposed to hate and the fact that your heart raced just from reading his handwriting.

Unsure of how to reply to your cousin, you tossed your phone down on the table, rubbed the fatigue out of our eyes, and resumed your work. Sometimes, you thought, studying was less stressful than talking to AJ. 

You didn’t think anything about leaving your phone unlocked, screen facing upward, until Heechul settled into the seat across from you and declared, “I see my name!”

Your eyes flicked up to find him scrolling through the texts. When you reached for the phone, knots tying in your stomach as you wondered how much of your cousin’s insanity he had read and taken as truth, he held the phone out of your reach. 

“Apparently—” your face burned as you dared to look into his eyes— “you don’t learn from your mistakes. Does this scene look familiar to you at all?”

“I apologized!” Heechul reminded, and he probably would have clung to your phone longer if your father hadn’t appeared at your side. 

Clearing his throat, your father asked, “What is going on here?” His stern gaze wandered between you and Heechul. 

While you sank because disappointing your father was your deepest fear, Heechul responded promptly. Setting the phone down on the table, Heechul said, “I just came to check on Y/N’s progress. You know, I thought I could offer her some tips because I took the graduation exams just a couple of years ago, but I was never half as smart as she is.”

When Heechul glanced into your eyes, which were narrowed, confused by the sudden flattery, he smiled. “I guess I’m not much of a tutor, then.”

Mouth pressed into a thin line as a wrinkle darkened between his eyebrows, your father suggested, “I suppose that means you should get back to work, then.” It wasn’t a suggestion so much as an order. 

Heechul’s smile faltered. Your heart sank at the thought, and you realized that your heart had been swelling with the growth of his smile. You had been leaning across the table, subconsciously willing yourself closer to him. You were just like everybody else: enchanted by Heechul’s smile. 

Chewing on his lips as if embarrassed by your father’s reprimand, Heechul nodded. He tucked stray strands of hair behind his ears. “Yes, sir.” He dropped your phone— now locked, as evidenced by the darkened screen— atop your book and encouraged, “Keep up the good work,” before setting off to help your mother carry a tray piled high with enchiladas.

Your father then patted your shoulder and, after praising your hard work, reminded, “There are more important things than boys.” The twitch that moved his eyebrow when his icy eyes fell on Heechul from across the room was in stark contrast with his past boasts about the young college student who nearly doubled profits with his charisma. 

Had your father mistaken Heechul’s interest in you too? 

He wouldn’t walk away until you promised, “I know,” and proved your belief by fixing your stare on the math practice sheet when you really just wanted to watch Heechul laugh with your mother. 

Once satisfied that your father wasn’t watching— he was too busy talking to a longtime customer— you unlocked your phone to see that Heechul had sent a text.

Despite your cousin’s professed interest in visiting, you didn’t expect to look up from your studies to find her sitting across from you, smiling broadly as she twisted one of her long blonde curls. 

“AJ!” You would have smiled if your jaw hadn’t gone slack from the surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Okay, so here’s the official answer.” She tapped her French manicured nails on the shine black tabletop as her peach colored lips pulled more tightly into a bright grin. “It’s my spring break, and your mom paid for me to fly out here as a part of your birthday present!”

Your birthday? Surely you hadn’t forgotten.

When you scrambled through strewn papers to find your phone, you blinked at the date. It was your birthday— the one day of the year that was yours— and you hadn’t even realized until after wasting half of it studying in the corner booth of your parents’ restaurant.

“But unofficially,” AJ divulged, “I’m here on my quest for a baby daddy.” 

At that moment, Heechul decided to appear at the table. Wearing his apron and name tag, hair tied back as he held the pen in one hand and notepad in the other, he looked like a model employee except for the devilish smirk twisting the corner of his mouth when he asked, “Who needs a baby daddy?”

Your face flushed crimson, and he laughed when you mumbled, “Damn it, Heechul, why did you have to show up right this second?” Since he called you beautiful, you hadn’t been able to look at him without blushing; this topic deepened your embarrassment. 

Placing both hands on his hips and tilting his head at AJ, he asked, “How much will you pay me— to be your baby daddy?” 

Anyone else in the world would have melted at his wink, but AJ didn’t crack the smallest smile. She didn’t flatter him with the faintest blush. She only shook her head. “Sorry, sir—”

Heechul glared when you giggled at the word ‘sir,’ but he ultimately broke into his own laughter until AJ concluded, “But you don’t have the assets I’m looking for in a baby daddy.” 

As if you had been the one to offend him, Heechul gasped and looked to you for an explanation as he clutched his notepad over his chest. Rolling your eyes at his theatrics and AJ’s ideal type, you started, “She’s into buff—”

“I’ve heard enough!” Heechul decided, waving his hand dismissively as it fell from its place over his heart. “I didn’t come here to get insulted! I came to look at a beautiful girl—” He blew a kiss at you and delighted when you fixed your flustered gaze away from him— “and to take your drink order,” he said to AJ. 

“That won’t be necessary.” AJ laughed at your embarrassment with Heechul. “I was just about to drag Y/N off to the beach if you wanna tag along. Maybe we can talk her into wearing a bikini!”

Heechul’s eyes widened at AJ’s proposition, and you wondered, glaring at her, “How are you going to talk me into wearing something I don’t own?”

“We can go shopping!” AJ suggested enthusiastically. “I saw a cute little boutique on my walk over here! Let’s just swing by on our way to the beach!” Then, as if a lack of funds was the cause of your reluctance, she offered, “I’ll buy the bikini— just consider it a birthday gift from me to you!”

Heechul asked, “It’s your birthday?” and he frowned when you nodded. “Damn! Now I feel really terrible about turning you ladies down. I’m on the clock, ya know?” He gestured sadly to his work attire. 

Noting how your shoulders slumped, weighted by disappointment, AJ tried to make you laugh by joking, “Damn! Now how are we gonna assess your tiddie situation, Heechul?”

Again, as if you had spoken, Heechul scoffed at you. “Wow! I didn’t know you could be so bold!” He caught his tongue with his teeth as he smirked, his dimples deepening. “If you wanted me to take my shirt off, all you had to do was ask.”

Winking, Heechul set his pen and notepad on the table, reached around his back to untie his apron, and he might have reached for the hem of his shirt (as AJ slapped her hands on the table, roaring with laughter, while you concealed your burning face with your hands, peeking at him through your fingers) had your mother not approached the table. 

“Oh, hi, ma’am.” Heechul bowed and donned a smile so sweet it made your teeth hurt. He waved both hands, and your mom mirrored the gesture. 

“Hi, Heechul! And hey, AJ— I’m glad to see you made it here safely!” Your mom’s forever smiling eyes landed on you as she asked AJ, “You’re still walking down to the beach with Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, if I can convince her to walk away from her work for just a few hours!” AJ huffed in exaggerated frustration because she knew that would appeal to your mom, who feared that you didn’t spend enough time doing ‘normal teenager things.’

You mom told you, “You can take a break at least for today.” 

Before you could argue that you weren’t reluctant to leave your work— you were just uncomfortable about having to wear a bikini— your mother set to closing your books and stacking your papers. “You can take the day off too, Heechul, so you can look after these girls. Make sure to have them back at the restaurant by 7 to have cake; you can stay for that, if you want.” 

The beach was less than a mile away from the restaurant, and you had never been in trouble a day in your life, so there was no rational reason for mom to send Heechul to escort you and AJ. Still, you didn’t point that out when Heechul nodded, promising, “I’ll keep them out of trouble, ma’am!”

Nobody could have kept AJ out of trouble, though. As soon as the three of you entered the boutique across the street from the restaurant, she abandoned you and Heechul to strike up a conversation with the boy running the cash register. 

While you rolled your eyes at her nerve, Heechul grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to the rack of bathing suits. “Guess that leaves us to shop alone.” He didn’t seem at all affected by AJ’s misplaced priorities. 

Heechul usually laughed at your blush, but his gaze softened when he noticed that you were staring down at your sandals. “Hey.” He nudged you until you looked up at him, and he smiled— a small closed mouth grin that wasn’t supposed to make your heart thunder— as he released your hand. 

“You don’t have to wear anything you don’t want to wear. See— here’s a modest one.” He plucked from the rack a striped black long sleeved bathing suit top matched with black shorts and held it out for your approval. 

You shook your head, and when Heechul looked at you with gathered eyebrows, you explained, “Horizontal stripes aren’t flattering on me.”

“What—” His tone was harsh until he remembered that he was trying to make your birthday happy. Swallowing his annoyance, Heechul forced a grin, returned the striped bathing suit, and reached for another. This one was a ruffled cotton-candy-pink one piece. 

“Ruffles exaggerate my curves.” You frowned as you picked at your nail beds. 

Heechul groaned, “Y/N, curves are good—” and he bit his tongue only when you cut your eyes at him, cheeks reddening. “Fine.” He slammed the hanger back on the rack and asked, “Where do you get all this stuff, anyway? Is it from those magazines—”

“It’s fashion advice,” you maintained, but Heechul continued to argue. 

“I don’t think it’s good for you to read things that tell you ‘You look bad in this, this, and that.’” 

Had the shop been busier, you might have been embarrassed by his volume. Maybe then, you still would have been too flattered by his rage on your behalf to care who overheard. 

Calmly, you explained, “They don’t just tell me what I look bad in. They also say what’s flattering for my body type.” 

Heechul rolled his eyes as he humored you by asking, “Well, what do the magazines say flatters you?”

You pointed to the polka dotted red one piece. Heechul grabbed it and ushered you into the dressing room in the back of the store. In another attempt to make you laugh, the tried to walk into the dressing room with you. 

He laughed— that high pitched cackle that drew everyone’s attention— as you snatched the bathing suit from his hands and pushed him out of the room, chuckling, “Nice try, Heechul.” 

Even after all his skepticism toward magazine advice, Heechul frowned when you walked out of the dressing room without modeling the bathing suit. 

“Patience, Heechul,” you urged as you rose to your tiptoes to pull the elastic that held his hair back. You had never seen him with his hair down before; he looked more beautiful this way. “You’ll see it at the beach.” 

He grumbled, “Whatever,” while raking his fingers through his hair. He smiled only when you absentmindedly slid his hair tie onto your wrist before skipping to meet AJ at the register. 

“Cute,” AJ cooed when you dropped the bathing suit onto the counter. “Very 1950s chic! Your almost-boyfriend has great taste!” You shoved her as she turned to wiggle her eyebrows and wave at Heechul. 

Heechul’s frown returned when AJ whipped her wallet out to purchase your bathing suit. 

“Hey!” His eyes spat fire. “I wanted to buy that!” Stepping by your side, he had also pulled his wallet from his work pants’ front pocket. He wore an indignant expression that clearly meant, “And I have every right to buy it! I helped her pick it out while you were sidetracked by your baby daddy quest!”

AJ mimicked his face, going so far as to stick her tongue out at him while adopting his whining tone. “Too bad! This was my idea first, so you’ll have to think of some other present for Y/N!”

While the cashier watched their exchange with raised eyebrows, you offered him an apologetic smile and tugged anxiously at one of your twin braids. “Guys, I’ll just buy it myself—”

“No!” Heechul and AJ shouted in unison, causing you and the cashier to jump and raise your hands in surrender. 

Shoving his wallet back into his pocket, Heechul grumbled, “It was AJ’s idea first, so whatever.” 

AJ stood triumphantly, beaming as she counted the money likely given to her by your Mom, and Heechul stood over by the door. He crossed his arms over his chest, lips pressed out into a pout. 

You couldn’t explain that his presence alone was a gift without sounding like a lovesick fool, so you smiled as you walked to his side and said, “We’ll need towels and sunscreen and stuff, right?”

Heechul blinked until he understood that you were offering him another way to financially contribute to the beach trip since, obviously, that was so important to him. He grabbed you around the shoulders and grinned as he instructed, “Wait here.” 

. . .  

“What was the point of buying a bathing suit,” AJ asked as she plopped onto the checkered blanket with you and Heechul, “if you’re just gonna sit here the whole time?”

You tossed a towel at her, kicking with your bare feet to drive her off of the corner of the blanket she was soaking with ocean water. “Why did you drag me to the beach for my birthday if you’re just gonna flirt with every guy on the beach?”

The red patches that rose over AJ’s cheeks were either the beginning stages of a sunburn or her first blush. “Well, forgive me for not wanting to interrupt you and Heechul.” 

At his name, Heechul propped himself up on his elbows and lowered his sunglasses to cock an eyebrow at AJ. “Excuse me? We aren’t doing anything. I am being a remarkably well behaved boy.”

“Right,” AJ said skeptically before rising to her feet and dropping the towel onto the blanket. “Well, I’m gonna go get ice cream. Might swim some more. I’m not sure yet. But you won’t see me again ’til it’s time to walk back to the restaurant.” 

You thought AJ was mad at you until she winked before prancing away. 

So that’s why she had been elusive all day: she didn’t want to be the third wheel. In her mind, this was a date that she had coordinated with your mom’s help. 

Heechul rolled onto his side. “You can go swimming if you want.” Lying like that, with one hand supporting his head and the other resting on his hip, clad only in his black slacks, you couldn’t bear to look at him. You fixed your gaze on the not-too-distant shoreline as he said, “I wouldn’t mind. It’s your birthday, and your cousin is visiting from across the world, so do what’s fun to you.”

It occurred to you that there was an imbalance between you and Heechul. While you had vaguely admitted your attraction to him as some kind of crush similar to one every girl developed when looking at him, he had been open about liking you. Liking someone is different from having a crush. Liking someone is different from thinking they’re pretty. 

The thing was, you did like Heechul. You couldn’t exactly explain why or when it started, but you figured you must have tripped some time during your first conversation. You must have fallen without realizing it until you looked up at him from your place on the ground. 

You hadn’t ever liked somebody before, so you didn’t know how these things worked. You didn’t know what marked the distinction between crush and love, but you knew that you liked Heechul, and you didn’t want to swim because he couldn't walk into the water wearing his work uniform. 

You knew, “I am having fun,” so you told him. 

Heechul didn’t tease you. He simply lowered his sunglasses again to look at you without the barrier— to check your expression for any signs of uncertainty or deceit. He handed the glasses to you, explaining, “You’re squinting. Here.” 

As you slid them onto your face, he crawled in front of you, sat with his back to you, and asked, “Do you know how to braid hair?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “but I don’t have a hair tie.” 

He advised, “Check your wrist,” and you saw that you were wearing one. 

Unable to remember where it came from or how Heechul noticed it, you set to combing through his hair with your fingers. “Do you want, like, a French braid, or—” 

“I don’t care.” Always a little too honest to believe, Heechul explained, “I just want you to touch me, okay? And not in, like, a pervy way, so stop blushing.”

It wasn’t so impressive that Heechul knew that you were blushing without watching your face burn; you were almost always turning red while talking to him. 

“Okay,” you agreed, playing with his hair without pausing for even a moment. Your movements didn’t falter until Heechul leaned back so that his back was flush with your chest. 

“What are you doing?” He whirled around when you pushed him away. His voice had been grating— irritated— until he noticed that the color had drained from your face. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you or—”

Shaking your head, you explained, “My heart is racing. I didn’t want you to feel—”

Heechul gently grabbed your wrist and held your palm flat over his chest— bare and warm from the sun’s rays— so that you could feel it too: the rapid booming of his heart. Somehow, that made it okay. Somehow that made it right: the fact that he felt this way too. 

Once you nodded, Heechul returned to his position with his back against your chest. When you said, “I can’t braid your hair when you’re this close,” he repeated, “I don’t care,” and he reached for his phone. 

So he really did just want to be close to you. 

You sat there for a few minutes, gaze shifting from the clouds overhead to the shoreline to the children building sandcastles to the couples sitting on blankets in positions to yours and Heechul’s. You sat there for a few minutes, stiff and unsure of what you should do, unsure of what you were expected to do, uncomfortably aware of what you wanted to do. 

Finally, you gave in to your desires. You wrapped your arms around Heechul’s waist and hid your burning face in the scalding crook of his neck as you awaited his reaction. 

He gasped at the unexpected affection and dropped his phone. His hair tickled your nose and lips while he asked, “What are you doing?” For once, he was the surprised one. He was the breathless one. 

You replied, “I just want to touch you, okay? And not in a pervy way, so stop blushing.”

“Me?” His voice cracked as his arms grazed over yours. “I don’t blush.”

Hoping to call his bluff, you tried to raise your head, but he held you where you were, saying, “Don’t move. I want to stay like this for a while.”

“But Heechul,” you whined against his skin, “how am I supposed to kiss you from here?”

“Yah!” Heechul jumped out of your embrace and rounded on you again. He leaned forward on his knees, hands pressed down on the blanket on either side of your body, face just inches from yours. He couldn’t truthfully deny that his face was scarlet when he asked, “What’s gotten into you? Your cousin shows up, and suddenly you’re a shameless flirt?”

“Don’t blame AJ.” Somehow emboldened by Heechul’s blush, you accused, “It’s your fault that I’m acting like this.” 

“My fault?” His jaw dropped, and he shook his head. 

You nodded. “Yeah! You’re a terrible influence!”

“I resent that.” His growing smile suggested otherwise. His blush faded as he adapted to the situation; if you wanted to remain dominant, you would have to take action quickly. 

“Besides, Heechul—” you teasingly lowered the sunglasses he gave you so he could see your wink— “hasn’t anybody ever told you that you’re irresistible?”

It was quick— almost too quick for you to appreciate the cherry flavor of his barely chapped lips against yours— over in the blink of an eye, but you would never forget that first dizzying kiss. 

“Ah, damn it.” Heechul huffed when he backed away from you. His hair fell over his face, and he didn’t bother to move it (probably) because it acted as a curtain between his blush and your wide, curious eyes. “I’m supposed to prove myself worthy by waiting for you, and then I got all impatient like an idiot.”

At first, you thought that he was throwing a theatrical fit to lighten the mood— maybe he thought you were overwhelmed by the kiss— but then his shoulders slumped. He didn’t meet your eyes because he was focused on his balled fists. 

You tried to comfort him by acknowledging, “I went out of my way to tempt you,” but that only seemed to make matters worse.

“That’s no excuse. You clearly said that you don’t want to date, and—”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, annoyed by his efforts to dampen the moment, “but I didn’t know that sharing one sweet kiss means we have to get married next week.”

Heechul blinked and opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but then he broke into a bashful grin. “Oh. Yeah, maybe I’m overthinking things.” When he moved to sit by your side, he was careful not to brush his hand against yours; evidently, he wasn’t done overthinking. 

A part of you— the part that forced your lips into a heavy frown— wondered how long things would be like this. How long would he, who never hesitated before, fear crossing the boundary you had drawn before trust was (somehow) established?

A part of you— the part that compelled you to toss the sunglasses into the beach tote so you could look at him without the slightest obstruction to your vision— said, “You’re a really nice person.” Then, that part of you said, “You’re a beautiful person, Heechul.”

“Why are you saying that?” He looked at you with an apprehension you recognize from the times you caught your reflection at school. He didn’t believe you. “You can’t say something like that just because I kissed you—”

“I’m not,” you argued, voice sharp as a blade although your heart was flooded with burning compassion. “I’m not trying to— I’m saying that you’re beautiful because you’re not going to kiss me again.” 

Heechul sighed. “I don’t understand. I don’t know why you’re confusing me like this, but—” 

“It’s beautiful that you care so much about waiting for me. It’s beautiful that you’re not pressuring me to just hurry up and date you just because the feelings are there.”

“That’s not beautiful,” Heechul murmured, smoothing the patch of blanket before him. “That’s called not being a total jerk.”

“Well,” you breathed, “I think it’s beautiful that you’re not a total jerk.”

When Heechul swallowed, his eyes still clinging to his mistrust, he seemed to realize that he couldn’t change your mind. Maybe he didn’t want to change your mind. “Okay. I believe that you think I’m beautiful, so I think you should try to believe that I think you’re beautiful.” 

You gasped. When would you get used to the fluttering in your chest those words caused? Did you want it to end so that you could breathe more comfortably? Or did you want the feeling to last forever? 

“What? What’s wrong?” Heechul finally pushed his hair aside so you could watch his face contort as he complained, “Y/N, you make me a little bit crazy. I know there’s a lot going on in your head, and maybe I wouldn’t get it all, but I— try to trust me a little. Please?”

“It’s not an issue of trust,” you claimed, but maybe it was. “It’s just—” adjusting your denim shorts, you worried aloud, “what if you think I’m weird?”

“Who gives a shit what I think?” Heechul apologized when you winced at his tone. “Well, obviously, you care what I think, huh?” He clicked his tongue. “Don’t worry then. I don’t think being weird is bad. I don’t think anything about you is bad.”

“I was just thinking,” you confessed when he linked his pinky with yours, “that I can’t breathe when you call me beautiful. And then I wondered how long I will feel this way. And then I wondered what’s wrong with me.” 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you,” Heechul said matter-of-factly. “It’s okay to be happy when somebody calls you beautiful—”

At the risk of sounding like a fool, you elaborated, “It’s not about being called beautiful. It’s about you calling me beautiful. I don’t want to be one of those girls who only feels special because a boy— even a boy like you— compliments her.” 

Heechul frowned and scratched at the back of his neck. “See, I don’t know what to say about that. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you feeling special because— get this— you are. And if I help you realize it, then, well, I don’t see any harm in that.” As if wounded, he asked, “Why can’t I be one of the things that make you happy? I get why I can’t be everything— I don’t want to be everything— but why can’t I be something?”

You shrugged, unsure of how to process his question (much less answer it), and Heechul started guessing, “Because I’m a boy? Because I like you? Because I’ll kiss you every chance I get? That’s not very fair, if you ask me.” 

“It’s not because you’re a boy or because you like me or because you want to kiss me,” you admitted in a small voice, gathering your legs so you could rest your chin atop your knees. “It’s because— what do I do when you change your mind?”

Your question knocked the breath out of Heechul. He tried to mask his wheeze with a laugh. “Change my mind about what? Liking you? Falling in love with you? Thinking you’re beautiful?” He looked to you, again, for answers. Again, you shrugged, so he reasoned, “Well, Y/N, I’m not gonna lie or sugar coat things. People change, people grow, and sometimes people leave. I’m not going to promise you forever, and you shouldn’t trust anybody who does.” 

Everything he said— you already knew it. Those truths were among the many fears that prevented you from leaping into the unknown with him despite your repressed desires. Hearing them spoken aloud should have stunned you, maybe terrified you, but the words were a comfort. 

Heechul understood; Heechul wouldn’t pretend to hold the authority to silence your concerns forever. Perhaps above all, you appreciated his honesty. 

“I like you now. I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you now,” he confessed. You knew he wasn’t speaking for a reaction, as he often did, because he wasn’t even looking at you. “Now is all I can give you.”

“Now,” you wanted to say, “is beautiful,” but you couldn’t find your voice, or you couldn’t find the words. 

“But—” he looked at you briefly, stuttered when he found that you had been admiring him, and fixed his gaze up on the sky— “I will always think you’re beautiful. Even if you cut my heart out and stop on it— and I know you would never intentionally hurt me, but come on, that’s one of those things people do— you won’t stop being beautiful. Maybe you don’t know it yet, maybe you never will, but your beauty is one of those few forever things.” 

You said, “I don’t believe in forever,” and Heechul breathed an airy sort of laugh that wasn’t born from amusement. 

“Well, I guess we have more in common than we thought.” He looked at you, took your hand, and said, “I guess when it ends—” he gasped and amended— “ah, I don’t want to think about that, so let’s say if— if it ends, I’ll be able to look back and know that I loved someone truly beautiful.” 

Heechul’s face burned when you said, “I don’t think that’s so important.” Lacing your fingers through his when he tried to pull away, you supposed, “That’s not as important as knowing that you were loved by someone who knows you are truly beautiful.”

Moments passed in silence, with the two of you looking at each other. 

“You need to let go,” Heechul whispered, “because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you again.” 

“I’m not going to let you go.” 

This time, you crossed the distance and caught his lips with yours. This time, the kiss lasted long enough for you to memorize the feeling of Heechul’s cool breath against your skin, the feeling of his one hand squeezing yours while the other moved to cup your cheek. This time, you knew that you would never catch your breath again, and you didn’t mind.

. . . 

“Nice lipstick, Heechul.” AJ smirked on the walk back to the restaurant. “I’m sure Y/N’s parents are really gonna love how it compliments your complexion.” 

Heechul smiled even as he reached up to wipe at his lips and cheeks. You blushed, realizing that he hadn’t stopped smiling like that since your second kiss. 

AJ squealed, “Ah! He’s so damn happy he got kissed on the beach, he doesn’t care if he gets scolded by the ’rents!”

“The ’rents?” You rolled your eyes at AJ’s vocabulary while straining to remove the red stains from Heechul’s face. “What kind of— Heechul, stop pushing me away!”

“I like my kiss marks!” He shrieked before lifting you off the ground, arms secured around your waist, and peppering your face with light kisses. 

“Children!” AJ playfully scolded, cupping her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. “Behave!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as a sharp breeze blew Heechul’s hair against your face. Cursing, he set you back onto your feet and set to combing through his hair. He was too focused on making his hair presentable to distract you from wiping at his face with a towel from the beach bag. 

“My dad won’t like them,” you reasoned to his childish pout. “You don’t want him to make us break up so soon, do you?”

“Obviously not,” Heechul grumbled as you fished his red button-down shirt out of the bag. 

Tossing the short at him, you ordered, “Put this on, then—”

Smirking, he jested, “That’s not usually how these things go. You’re asking me to put my clothes on?”

“— Nobody is gonna react well if you walk into the restaurant shirtless,” you concluded, gaze stern in response to his perversion. 

AJ observed, wiggling her eyebrows at you, “You don’t seem to mind the sight so much,” and Heechul joined her in laughing at your spreading blush. 

Their laughter didn’t die until the three of you walked into the restaurant and met with your father’s disappointed scowl behind the host’s podium. “Where have you been?”

Although his gaze was fixed solely on you— your breath gasped past your lips and, in your shame, you dropped the bag onto the floor— AJ answered your father as Heechul knelt to stuff the escaped towels back into the bag. “Auntie said that as long as we were back by 7—” 

AJ fell silent as your father eyed her sharply. He turned his attention to Heechul, who stood up straight while holding the bag’s strap. Fearing that your father could somehow see the lipstick stains you had meticulously scrubbed, you shrank. 

“Where have you been, Heechul?” Your father asked. “Weren’t you scheduled to work until closing?”

Shifting from one foot to another, Heechul started, “I—”

You would never hear his response. Your mom walked out of the kitchen carrying a birthday cake and smiled as she asked, “So, kids, how was the beach? Heechul, AJ didn’t act up too badly, did she?” 

Apparently, it didn’t matter much (or at all) to your father that your mom had given the three of you permission— encouragement— to go to the beach. Pinching at the bridge of his nose, he said flatly, “AJ, I’m used to you being a bad influence—” 

Rather than listening to your father’s scolding and crumbling under the weight of his disappointment, AJ rolled her eyes and stormed past you and Heechul, who were frozen stiff, to help your mom set the table. 

“— but Heechul, I expect better from you considering your circumstances. You have a lot to prove.” 

Heechul’s circumstances? 

You glanced at Heechul for some kind of explanation, knowing well that this wasn’t any time to talk, but he had fixed his gaze down at his dull black shoes. The circumstances— whatever they were— must have been dire, judging by the dark maroon that colored Heechul’s entire face. 

“And Y/N—” your father’s stern tone faltered when you looked away from Heechul to meet his stare with tear-filled eyes. Quietly, he asked as if he truly couldn’t understand why you would want to do something fun for your birthday, “You were supposed to be studying— don’t you care about your future at all?”

“Alright!” Your mom slammed the plates down on the table, stormed toward the conflict, and you were thankful that the restaurant closed early; at least nobody else would have to witness your humiliation. “Don’t start saying things like that! Your daughter slaves away in that corner booth every day of every week, and I don’t want her to become one of those zombie kids who don’t know how to crack a smile, so I sent her to the beach with AJ and Heechul because she likes them. She deserves to spend time with people she likes—”

It wasn’t often that your mother lost her temper, but it was never a pretty sight. She was so loud, and your father was so distracted by her wagging finger, that they didn’t notice you slip out the door. 

Nobody would have seen you lower your head as your threw your back against the building’s rough brick exterior had Heechul not followed you outside wearing an expression of genuine concern. 

“Are you okay?” He leaned against the wall too, and reached for your hand that was much colder in the moonlight outside your parents’ restaurant than it had been under the beach’s sun. 

You nodded and wiped at your tears with your available hand. “Yeah. Dad will apologize for being so strict after you and AJ go home. He’ll be proud of me for studying in that corner booth hours before the restaurant opens, and— and—”

“It’s okay to be upset.” Heechul offered, “If it means he’ll apologize sooner, I’ll go home—”

“I don’t want you to go home,” you blurted. Thinking that Heechul would tease you, a hand automatically clamped over your mouth. 

He didn’t laugh at you, though. A kind, gentle sort of smile curved his lips as he agreed, “Okay. I won’t go home then.” You nodded gratefully, and he promised, “I’ll wait out here with you until you’re ready to go back inside.” 

And he waited patiently. 

It turned out that Heechul really did have a motorcycle. On days when the sun shone brightly through the morning clouds, he used it to drive you to school and to pick you up during his break or on his way to start his shift at the restaurant. A far sweeter boyfriend than you dreamed was possible, he always pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and fastened your helmet before every ride. 

On overcast days when rain threatened to fall from gray morning clouds, Heechul drove you to and from school in his car. Although meticulously cleaned and well functioning, the car wasn’t exactly new. 

Upon entering it for the first time, you joked, “So your little sales pitch to the ladies at the restaurant— ya know, ‘buy today’s special, help me earn money, and I’ll drive you around town in a new convertible—’”

Heechul, who had been resisting laughter since you started to mimic his voice, interrupted with a wink. “Those were empty promises, baby. I only ever had eyes for you.” 

“Right. Of course.”

You couldn’t quite understand how Heechul could be so indifferent to all of the girls, many of whom were devastatingly gorgeous, but you believed him when he called those interactions mindless flirting. After all, that was all it had been to those girls— non-committal conversations with one of the prettiest boys they had ever seen. 

Moments passed in relative silence. The only noise was the drumming of Heechul’s fingers against the steering wheel until you asked, “What time do you have to work today?” 

That was how your conversations went when you weren’t busy making fun of each other. Although it didn’t affect him, Heechul would ask about the tests you had scheduled for the day. Although it didn’t affect you, you would ask about his work schedule. It was just nice to express an interest in each other’s day, even if you wouldn’t be there for most of the moments. 

“I’m off today.” 

You gawked at him. “You don’t have to go in at all?” You couldn’t remember the last time Heechul hadn’t worked at the restaurant for at least a few hours. 

“Baby,” Heechul laughed, bringing his eyes away from the road for a split second to look at you. “That’s what it means to be off.”

As always, you rolled your eyes in instances like these when Heechul pretended to be much smarter than you. “Don’t be a butt.” He chuckled at your weak insult. “I’m just surprised that you woke up early to drive me to school when you could have slept in. I can take the bus when you’re unavailable, you know. That’s what I’ve done for years.”

Granted, you embraced Heechul’s role in your morning routine, and your day wouldn’t start nearly as happily without him, but you didn’t want to be selfish with his time. 

“But I’m not unavailable,” Heechul argued, shutting the radio off when a song he didn’t like played through the speakers. “I enjoy our morning chats, so you’ll just have to get used to the passenger seat, alright?”

You adopted the tired tone he usually used when groaning, “Whatever,” before offering your sincere thanks. 

Instantly, he replied, “You’re welcome,” and you smiled because he no longer squirmed when you spoke to him in genuine admiration. 

As he pulled into the parking lot of your school, bringing the car close to the building so you wouldn’t have to walk far in the rain, you looked at him with a pout. 

“Ah damn,” Heechul sighed, working a hand through his hair as he took in your expression. “What do you want?”

“Let’s play hooky!” You suggested just to see how he might react. 

Heechul snorted. “I’m out of school for the summer, so I’m not pulling some delinquent stunt by driving out of this parking lot. He raised an eyebrow at you. “You, however—”

“Come on, Heechul, pretty please?” Bringing your hands together, you poked your bottom lip out. “I’m just a few weeks away from graduating, and I’ve never skipped a single day.” 

“Your father is never going to approve of me if I aid and abet in your first act of truancy, Y/N,” Heechul deadpanned, shaking his head. “I’ve made a lot of progress during the family dinners, and I’m not about to see all my hard work and good manners go to waste just because you look at me like that with your pretty eyes.” 

Your effort to skip school had been half-hearted at best, so you forfeited the fight almost as soon as it started. Zipping your backpack, you huffed, “Fine, fine,” biting back your amusement that, for once, he was being the responsible one. “I’ll see you later.”

“So you’re going to leave without giving me a kiss just because I’m not giving you your way?” 

That hadn’t been your reasoning at all, but when you turned to face him, hand on the door handle, and saw that Heechul’s lips were puckered disappointedly, you shrugged. Your only motive to play along with his narrative was your amusement with Heechul’s frustration. 

“That’s really childish.” Very rich coming from the king of childish behavior.

You shrugged again, and Heechul asked, “Where would we even go if you didn’t go to class?” He carefully phrased the question as a hypothetical, but you understood that he was giving in. 

Settling back into your seat, you chewed on your cheek. Because the rain was falling in full force now— pounding against the roof of Heechul’s car and sliding down the windows— the park, beach, and nearby outdoor shopping center wouldn’t be too fun. What was even open at that hour? 

Remembering that on an earlier car ride, Heechul mentioned that he was renting an apartment just a few miles from your school, you suggested, “Your place?”

“Wow.” Heechul chuckled at your nerve. “There you go again, being all bold like I can resist you.” 

“There you go, being a pervert again,” you squirmed when he smirked at your suggestion. He probably wouldn’t notice the blush rising beneath your makeup, but you turned to face out the window anyway. “It’s not dirty unless you make it dirty, Heechul.” 

“Do you want me to?” He reached across the center console to poke at your ribs like an annoying child. As you reached again for the door handle, he blurted, “Sorry, sorry! I won’t make it dirty if you really want to visit my place.” 

You skeptically narrowed your eyes at him, reluctantly leaning back in your seat. “Promise?” 

Heechul promised, and once you buckled your seatbelt, he drove away. His only condition for allowing you to skip school was that you text your mother to tell her where you were, preparing for the likelihood that the school may call home to report your absence— he didn’t want to worry her. 

“Call me crazy,” he said, “but I feel like your mom will be overjoyed that you’re doing a normal teenager thing for once.” 

“You are crazy,” you teased, giggling when he rolled his eyes, “but not because of that. While Dad has always been worried about me growing into a successful adult, I think Mom has been worried that I was never really a happy kid.” 

Casually, as if the question weren’t deeply personal, he asked, “Were you? Were you a happy kid?”

Why couldn’t you answer straight away?

In all honesty, you couldn’t remember laughing as much in your entire life as you had in the last month with Heechul. You couldn’t remember the last time you looked up from your textbooks before that day he sat across from you and ripped your magazine. 

Maybe it wasn’t so much that you were unhappy before Heechul’s smile became the highlight of your day. Maybe you just hadn’t known before that happiness could be a priority. 

Heechul pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name as he opened your door. Offering his hand, he wondered, “What are you thinking?”

All you could think was, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” the feeling magnified by his touch, but that hardly seemed like the right thing to say when Heechul led you into his spotless all-white apartment, out of the rain. 

“Doesn’t it stress you out?” You asked as you anxiously eased onto the red couch at his urging. “Living in a place like this, I mean. I would be afraid I would spill something or somehow ruin the pretty white paint.”  

After kicking your shoes off, you pulled your socked feet onto the couch, afraid of soiling the shiny white floor that appeared untrodden. 

Heechul said, laughing at your behavior, “You can’t be afraid of making your mark on the world.”

Taking that as encouragement to follow him into some other room, you leaped off the couch. Heechul almost collided with you when he turned out of the room, clutching a guitar in hand. 

“Wow,” he grinned despite his promise not to make things weird. “If you’re so eager to come into my room, come on ahead.” He pushed the door open, probably expecting you to run, blushing, back into the living room. 

Driven by curiosity and a desire to surprise Heechul, you walked past him into a white bedroom covered with posters, housing guitars— electric and acoustic— and lined with bookshelves. Upon closer inspection, however, you realized that the shelves weren’t filled with books; they were overflowing with alphabetized CDs ranging from all languages, all genres, all decades.

Apparently unable to stand the silence, Heechul remarked, “I just re-organized those. I change it up a lot. This time it’s alphabetical order, but I’ve tried organizing them by genre, release date, language— oh—” 

When you turned to face him, he was sitting with his back against the headboard and blushing. Sometimes, like when he chewed his lips to cope with mild embarrassment, Heechul was adorable. 

“Oops.” He mirrored your smile when you sat on the foot of his bed. “I’m rambling.”

“Did you write me a song?” You folded your hands in your lap as you teased, “You know, like how you used to promise those girls—”

Throwing his head back, Heechul groaned, “This again!” He couldn’t dampen the bright smile that illuminated his face when you giggled at his reaction. “I don’t write songs about other girls! Only about you!”

Assuming that he was joking as usual, you disregarded that remark until he started strumming on the strings and filled the air with his gentle hum. Heechul sang often in the car, and you often complimented his talent, but there was a softer quality in his voice now. 

Why was his voice so different? Was it because you were in his room, whose atmosphere was somehow different— almost forbidden— from his car’s atmosphere? Was it because his voice was accompanied by a dulcet acoustic guitar rather than the full hard rock ensemble he sang along to in the car? 

Maybe Heechul sensed your questions, and maybe he wanted to give you some answers. “I haven’t written the lyrics yet. Or maybe I have, and I’m just too embarrassed to sing them while you’re looking at me like that—” 

Like what? Like there had never been anybody so beautiful in the history of mankind? Like he held your heart in the palm of his hand (and probably didn’t even realize it)? Like you wanted to admire him for the rest of time? 

“— but I kind of thought it would be nice— like something romantic from one of your magazines— to tell you that I love you with a song, but—”

Heechul paused again as if you weren’t leaning in to his every word. His strumming ceased as he looked up from the guitar to gauge your reaction. Once satisfied by your sharp gasp, he continued, “But you know I can’t ever really stick with a plan. I see you, and I get so excited that I can’t just think to myself that I love you. I have to tell you.” 

He set the guitar down on the floor, crawled to your side of the bed. Balancing on his knees and maintaining a small distance between your faces that instantly flooded your senses with memories of your first cherry flavored kiss on the beach, he breathed, “I love you.” 

Then, as if to spare you the burden of having to return the three simple words, Heechul brushed his lips against yours. 

Not too long ago, Heechul would have tried to debate when you breathlessly responded, “I love you too.” He would have said something like “Why are you saying that? You can’t just say that you love me because I said it first.” 

Your feelings must have been obvious from the expression he admired on your face when he broke the kiss; Heechul’s only response was a smile as he pulled your body against his.

. . . 

“He really likes you,” AJ said over the phone when she called to congratulate you on graduating. 

Applying the last touches of your makeup, you agreed. “I know.” 

Your father decided that the best way to celebrate your graduation and acceptance into an online summer college program was to host a small party. Beaming too radiantly at your achievements to cling to his disapproval of your boyfriend, he had said, “You can even invite Heechul!” as if Heechul didn’t work at the restaurant where the party would be hosted. Still, you smiled at your father’s effort to encourage your happiness.

Maybe it was silly to put so much effort into your appearance when Heechul considered you beautiful during all those days when you didn’t bother wearing makeup, but maybe you weren’t dressing up to impress him. Maybe you were trying to demonstrate with your appearance some transformation that occurred over the past few months; after all, your magazines called fashion a form of self-expression. 

AJ teased, her smirk almost audible, “I bet you’re doing that adorable thing where you smile down at the ground, just lost in the thought of him.” 

AJ was right about one thing: you were smiling, but not at the ground. You smiled as you met your bright eyes in the mirror. 

“Of course, I don’t blame you or anything. He really likes you,” she repeated, and you almost wanted to brag that he loves you, but that seemed too special to share over a phone call. That detail needed to be reserved for an in-person conversation (or at least a FaceTime chat).

She continued, “You barged into his bedroom, and nothing scandalous happened? That’s true love.” 

Or maybe, you thought, smile fading, Heechul just didn’t think about you like that. 

It was ironic. AJ (the self-proclaimed wild child always searching for a fling) admired the lack of physical intimacy in your relationship while you (the lifelong good girl who found love without looking)  frowned. 

Why were you upset, though? Did you genuinely crave that kind of connection with Heechul? Wasn’t it enough— more than enough— beautiful— that he loved you? Was this knotting in your stomach just the latest manifestation of your fear that, maybe, his attraction to you was limited? 

You couldn’t understand, and that confusion about your own feelings deepened the frown lines around your cherry red lips. 

Calling your name, AJ asked, “Are you still there?”

“Sorry.” Although nobody was there to see it, you forced a smile as you swept your makeup into a drawer. “I have to go, AJ. All this talking about Heechul has made me lose track of time.” You hoped that by distracting her with a joke at your own expense, she wouldn’t be able to imagine your sudden discomfort. 

Too consumed by your spiraling thoughts on the short walk from your family’s home into the restaurant, you didn’t see him coming until he had you pinned against the cold, hard floor. Before you ever looked at him, you felt Heechul’s heart thundering against your chest. 

He grinned, reaching up to pick pieces of crushed taco shell out of your hair. Apparently in no rush to stand despite the stares and laughter of party guests— comprised mostly of family members and your parents’ friends— Heechul traced the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” You were just about to hiss for him to get off, heat rising to your cheeks at his close proximity, when you made the mistake of looking into his eyes. 

On the bright side, looking at him— loving him— distracted you from the burning embarrassment of having fallen in a restaurant full of people. You probably would have laid there, heart racing, staring at Heechul for hours if he hadn’t suddenly jumped up. 

As if realizing at once that the people closest to you (and your family) were watching, Heechul dropped the tray he had been carrying onto an empty table and offered both hands to help you off of the ground. 

The restaurant wasn’t entirely closed to the public— your father probably determined that he couldn’t afford to miss a day of profit. A table full of girls clad in brightly colored bikini tops giggled when Heechul pulled you past them to the back of the restaurant. 

Stupidly, as if you couldn’t read the sign that marked the ladies’ restroom, you whispered, “Where are we going?”

“You have lettuce and tomato and beef all in your hair,” Heechul explained as he led you into the restroom. He ushered for you to sit atop the bathroom counter. “And that’s my fault, so—”

“You can’t be in here!” As if transforming into your mother, you wagged your finger as you scolded him. “What if somebody—”

“Look at us. Anyone who walks in here and thinks it’s a little suspicious that the waiter and the owners’ daughter are alone in the women’s restroom, they’ll quickly realize that this is some kind of emergency.” Heechul spun you around to face your reflection. Both of you were covered head to toe, as he said, in lettuce, tomato, beef, and whatever else Chef Leeteuk piled onto the tray.

Having only soiled his apron— which, technically, was made to be dirtied— Heechul frowned only when he noticed your frown in the mirror. 

“Hey.” Heechul turned you to face him before he lifted you onto the counter. “I’m sorry.” He ripped a paper towel from its dispenser, ran it under the water faucet, and wiped at some sauce staining your cheek. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” 

Stirred by the guilt flooding his eyes, you didn’t hesitate to explain, “I’m not hurt. I’m just— I know you probably think this kind of thing is stupid— but I spent a long time getting dressed, and—”

Heechul followed your gaze down to your white dress that had been stained by the food. “Shit. I’m sorry—” He moved to wipe at the stain, but faltered once he realized that it covered the majority of your chest. Tossing the paper towel onto the counter, he repeated, “I’m really sorry. It’s not stupid that you dressed up for your graduation party; it’s stupid that I ran into you with a tray full of tacos. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you responded to each of Heechul’s apologies, but he didn’t seem to hear you. 

“I know this won’t be nearly as pretty as your dress—” Heechul looked you over again and cast his eyes up to the ceiling as he hissed, “Damn it, you really dressed nice. You still look pretty post-incident, so I know you looked drop dead gorgeous when you walked in. And I barely even got to see it before I tackled you.” 

“Heechul.” To make him hear, you had to hold his face in your hands. His cheeks scalded your palms. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Yeah, this dress is probably ruined—” he groaned— “but it’s not the end of the world. This is one of those one time dresses, anyway. It’s fine. Really,” you said to his skeptical expression, “it’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Heechul shook his head before catching your lips with his. Maybe he thought the sweet act of affection would lessen his guilt. Maybe he wanted to gauge whether you were truly upset by your response to his kiss. 

Maybe he was satisfied by the urgency with which you drew him closer, forgetting (or not caring) that the food still sticking to his apron would further taint your dress. Maybe he was smiling into the kiss until, without warning, your hands gathered the fabric over his chest and shoved him away. 

“What’s wrong?” Heechul asked so often that the words rolled off his tongue without much thought. He gave you that look— brows furrowing and eyes twinkling with curiosity— that always preceded his request for you to trust him with your deepest thoughts. 

“We can’t do this here.” 

“What?” Heechul quirked his head at you, hair falling from his ponytail holder to fall into his eyes. “Kiss?”

You nodded, and he kissed— the frustrating tight-lipped pecks that were ending and beginning again before you could react— your lips again and again until you gathered the strength to push him away. 

“We are in a public restroom, Heechul,” you reminded him between pants, “and we are in my parents’ restaurant, and—” 

“I promise I’m not just being an insatiable pervert.” Heechul retied his ponytail before saying, “I know when you’re embarrassed. You’ve been blushing since those stupid girls laughed at us—”

Us, Heechul said, but they had been laughing at you. Knowing that Heechul wouldn’t want to hear that— explaining that would send him out to their table to harshly deliver a piece of his mind— you bit your tongue. 

“— and I would just rather think that you’re blushing because I kissed you over and over again— not because I ran into you with a tray of tacos like an idiot.” 

Again, like every other day of knowing him, you were struck by the realization, “You’re nice, Heechul.” Sometimes, because he teased you so much, that fact was easy to forget; rediscovering it every day was a joy, though. 

“Only to you,” he conditioned before kissing you. “Oh— like I was trying to say earlier before I got distracted— I know that this isn’t anywhere near being as pretty as your dress—” He frowned, tracing his fingers along the ruined fabric— “but I brought clothes to change into after my shift, before I joined your party. They probably won’t fit you right, but—”

“Heechul,” you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly, “was this all an elaborate scheme to get me out of my clothes?”

Because he was honestly trying to atone for his actions, Heechul wasn’t prepared for your playfulness to strike at that exact moment. His face turned beet red, and he stuttered, “No— I— no—” 

“If you wanted me to take my dress off,” you jumped off of the counter and reached for the zipper, biting back laughter, “all you had to do was ask.” 

Heechul kept his eyes fixed on yours, either trying to call your bluff or daring you to follow through. When you started to tug on the zipper, however, he clapped a hand over his eyes and whined, “We can’t do this here! We’re in a public restroom, and we’re in your parents’ restaurant!”

Once you doubled over laughing, he dropped his hand, wheezing, “Aish, everything’s a joke with you, huh?” 

Thoroughly unashamed— proud, even— you nodded your head. “A funny joke!”

“You win this round, baby,” Heechul warned, “but watch out.” He brushed his lips against your forehead before walking out of the restroom, you assumed, to retrieve the clothes he offered. 

Leaning against a stall door, you passed the time as you always did when Heechul wasn’t by your side: by imagining the next time you would get lost in his eyes.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Blight | VIII

BTS

Jeon Jungkook/Reader [F]

Genre: Dragon/Shapeshifter AU, Magic AU, Enemies to Lovers

Warning(s): none to mention

Words: 6.6k

a/n: She’s here!!!!! After literal moNTHs, Blight is finally is back!! This is literally just a soft chapter (bc it’s gon get rOUGH soon).  Lemme know what y’all think of this chapter! 

@tamedandscripted @syubcandy @cencoroil @kathrynwynterbourne @fireflower90 @bluegreenguppyfish @queen-pharaoh-hatshepsut@mygukandonly @ms-bookdragon @leemarkeurii @seaofsunbeams@astronomyturtle @v-reallife @shubaaa @loudcomputerpoetry@glitterdustbxnny @namelesshil @taeshuworld @kaitsubaki @kookabble@enthusiastt @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @karissassirak

XXX

Jungkook stood in his room at his bedside watching as you snoozed in the center of his bed.  Curled up in his blankets, tucked to your chin in comfort.  He chuckled as he ran his fingers through your messy bangs and hair.  

“Precious,” he whispered solely to himself.  Back to normal, but with every single memory, you were told he’d forget.  Though, he decided to not tell you that he didn’t forget.  He would act as though he was clueless of the life he was supposed to have forgotten about.  Pretend to not remember the moments between the two of you.  

Keeping the truth and this new- burning- emotion in his chest to himself.  

XXX

You stirred awake in the morning due to the uncomfortable amount of sunlight hitting your face from the window.  Groaning, you turned your back to the light and pulled your knees up, curling more into the blanket to get a few more minutes of sleep at least.  You sighed through your nose at the welcomed warmth when you heard a voice in the kitchen. 

“Well, pardon me for being disabled for a week,” chanted Jungkook’s voice in a hefty amount of sarcasm.  Your eyes shot open as you gasped.  You sat up, sitting for a moment before you heard him again.  “We have a break coming up, so I’ll be coming to visit.”  You kicked off the blankets wrapped between your legs and around your body like some cocoon.  Half rolling and half falling out of bed, you ran out of the bedroom. 

Going down the small hall to the kitchen, you saw Jungkook standing in front of the stove, his cell pressed to his cheek with his shoulder.  The sizzling of the pan in front of him was almost as satisfying as the scent of the bacon he was frying in it. Stood in sweats and a white tee, his back to you as you watched his shoulders move and his shoulder blades narrowed before widening again as he moved the pan in front of him.  

“Listen, if you weren’t such a pushover, she’d listen to you better.  She behaves just fine when I’m there,” he griped at whoever was on the phone with him.  You just stood silently in the doorway to the kitchen. He was talking normally, with the spite that he used to use in every conversation he had.  He moved comfortably in his home to where he was making food and wasn’t clinging to your side.  

He just sighed and clicked his tongue at the person on the line when he shifted his footing and moved to stand in front of a cabinet, swinging it open and grabbing a plate.  Setting it on the counter with a slight clunk, he turned the heat of the stove down to simmer as he pushed the bacon across the sizzling pan with his tongs once more. 

“Whatever, I’m hanging up.”  He took the phone in his hand, ended the call and shoved the phone into the pocket of his sweats before he started picking the bacon strips up one by one, dripping any access grease off before setting it on the plate. 

You panicked when he turned around, seeing you standing in the doorway.  You opened your mouth, no words forming. Only your breath hitching like a criminal caught in the act.  He just smiled as he waved you over. 

“Hey, I was going to go wake you up,” he told you.  He grabbed the plate of bacon and moved to the beeping rice cooker that you didn’t even realize was on.  Grabbed the two bowls stacked beside it he loaded them up and offered you to come over. “If you don’t take this bowl from me and eat something I’m going to be really upset,” he teased. 

“Oh!” You jumped as you walked to him, graciously taking the hefty bowl of rice from him.  He walked by you out of the small kitchen to the living room where he set everything down.  Rushing back into the kitchen and pulling two spoons from his drawer, he was soon pushing on your back to get you to move into the living room with him. “Jungkook?” You asked as he pushed down on your shoulders to sit you down on the ground.  

“Hm?” He hummed as he stepped around you and sat beside you, digging his spoon into his rice and taking a loaded spoonful of food.  

“What’s all this for?” He looked at you, spoon hanging in his mouth as he slowly chews. “You don’t normally cook, said you don’t like to.”  He nodded. 

“True,” he said.  “I don’t like cooking,’ he continued, “but I thought you deserved a reward.”  He picked up a piece of bacon, taking a nice crunchy bite out of it.  A murmured ‘ooh, crunchy’ under his breath as he ate.  “I heard from Parrish that I was a giant baby the past week.” 

You smiled, finally starting to eat.  As you filled your cheeks with rice or took bites of bacon strips cooked to the crunchiest of perfections, Jungkook watched you occasionally.  He danced a little beside you as he ate happily, glad to see you eating joyously. 

“So,” Jungkook started, “when the break starts, I’m planning on going home for it to visit my family.  My dad is apparently having trouble reigning in my sister,” he laughed.  You nodded at him.  It would be good for him to get a break and visit with his family.  “With that in mind, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” You choked on a piece of bacon as he set his bowl down in a panic and rubbed your back.  

Jumping up to get some water, he came back and you took easy sips as he rubbed between your shoulders and rubbed the back of your neck.  Setting your- now empty- glass on the table you looked at him inquisitively. 

“Why would you want me to go with you?  Wouldn’t the trip be to get away from the whole Master, Familiar thing? To get away from me?” 

“No!” He defied.  “I mean, you’re not just my Master.  You’re my friend too.  Besides, I want you to meet my family.  I think they’d really like you,” he spoke softly.  He knew that you could just go to Yoongi and Parrish if you were alone on the break, but he knew also that you couldn’t- or rather- wouldn’t go to your home.  He wanted you to be surrounded by a new family, his family.  He doubts he could actually voice that to you though. 

You sat with him, picking at your food as Jungkook ate slowly in nerves.  You didn’t want to impose on him anymore, but he looks like he might feel dejected if you said no.  You shoveled a spoonful of rice in your mouth as you ate in a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but also was a bit stifling.  

“If you finish your rice in one minute, I’ll go with you,” you nonchalantly told him.  Looking at you, he blinked in confusion.  You bit a piece of bacon off as you looked back.  “Tick tock, flame breath.”  Never in your life have you seen a grown student shove his face with rice like a forest animal.  He was going to be the one to find a way to choke on rice and you would be sat beside him laughing the entire time. 

XXX

“You’re going to Jungkook’s house for the break?” You nodded as Yoongi sat next to you in your shared dorm after what feels like forever.  Sitting on the couch as you both snacked on whatever you had and watched some show in the background.  He hummed.  “He must really want to go on a trip with you.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.  We’re just going to visit his family.  It's not like we’re taking some vacation as a pair.  Besides, it’s as Master and Familiar.”  You nonchalantly waved off the obvious undertone of Yoongi’s teasing.  Reaching for a stick of peppermint candy that sat in a bowl on the coffee table, you scowled. 

“What's with the face?” 

“Nothing,” you told him as you bit into the candy.  Yoongi just rolled his eyes in a yielding action.  You were too much of an open book for Yoongi to read.  Keeping secrets or trying to hide anything from him was nearly impossible.  He wouldn't poke at you anymore right at the moment.  Your flushed face was louder than whatever sentence you could construct anyways.  Even silent, you found a way to be loud. 

The next two weeks were full of study sheets, practice exams, more study sheets, and actual exams.  Topped off with Jungkook planning the trip back to his home.  He seemed almost excited about going back.  You were shocked to learn that both his sister and father were ordinary humans.  He inherited all his dragon traits from his late mother. 

You were even more shocked to learn that his sister was absolutely infatuated with magic.  She often idolized Spellcasters- so says Jungkook.  He could see her now, trailing after you like a duck, going on and on with quick-fire questions about the magic she didn’t possess.  And if he thought about it too much, he grimaced.  If she were to hang around, he’d have no personal time with you at all.  

Thus he began devising plans to avoid her possible constant clinging at all costs. 

When the final bell of the last school day rang, Jungkook was up and out of the room faster than usual. Jimin looking at his friend’s back as he rushed down the halls; weaving between students and around the corner to fly down the stairs. Jungkook was standing at the doorway of your class before you even left.  Standing and talking with your teacher as some random Spellcaster boy laughed at Jungkook’s instant presence and looked back into the room. 

“Y/n! You’re Familiar is here!” 

Jungkook almost let himself snarl at the boy’s sarcastic, teasing manner of voice.  Instead, just choosing to glare at him instead.  You dismissed your conversation momentarily to look over your shoulder at Jungkook in the doorway. He took his eyes off the back of your classmate’s head before he waved at you.  You waved back, talking to your teacher a moment longer before coming towards him. 

Jungkook smiled down at you when you stood before him.  His smile reached his ears.  You rose your brow at him as he wanted to dance on his toes like a toddler.  

“Hey there, Smiles.  What’s with you?” You chuckled at him as you started down the hall.  

“I’m just glad school’s done for a while.  Now I can go home,” he chirped.  

“You must really be raring to go see your family, huh?” He nodded. It was true, he was pretty stoked to see his sister and dad again.  Though, the idea of just taking a trip with you was exciting enough.  So long as Yoongi doesn’t hide in yours or his shadows (he shouldn’t because Jungkook cornered him and made him promise not to).  “What’s Jimin doing with his break?”  

“He said he wanted to go to some town by the coast.  Apparently, there’s some cool cave with some supernatural history that he wanted to check out.  He’s a bit of a nerd,” Jungkook told you.  Yoongi had decided to just go between his dorm and his home with Parrish for the break.  Too lazy and tired to actually go and make plans.  You couldn’t help but remember when he was talking with Jimin on the phone a couple nights ago and giving in to some idea he was probably being pitched from the boy. 

You chuckled when you realized that it was likely that Jimin was going to drag poor little Min Yoongi out of his two main dwellings of his break. Jungkook was quick to snatch your hand and begin dragging you down the halls, stopping by your locker when you needed and shooting a warning glance at Elias who happened to be walking by.  Scurrying past at Jungkook’s glare, not wanting to start a scene for once. 

Jungkook was once again leading you off campus and absentmindedly walking the two of you back to his dorm, his hand still wrapped around your own. He was so busy raving on and on about how he was going to enjoy his trip home, he didn’t realize until he stood in front of his dormitory.  With you in tow.  

“Jungkook,” you gestured towards him. 

“Yes?” 

“Can I go home now?” 

“Why would you do that?”  Jungkook momentarily forgot that he- or at least to you- had forgotten his memories of the time you spent at his dorm.  You had already long moved all your stuff out and left his temporary school-home.  He panicked before he was concealing his emotions and putting on his front. “Oh, I guess you do need to get your own things, huh?”  He played off as he slowly let go of your hand.  

“That I do.  We agreed to meet at the station tomorrow morning at the station anyway.” With some chatter back and forth between the two of you, you soon dismissed yourself back home with Yoongi as Jungkook went to his dorm and packed before going to bed.  

The next morning, Jungkook was up early and pretty much flying to the station- hypothetically of course.  He’d never really fly to the station.  Simple humans would probably have a stroke watching a teenager rip wings from his back and take flight in the middle of a bustling city morning. He stood at the meeting place you both promised and waited an hour- him being way too excited and arriving super early. When he caught wind of your scent, he stood from the bench he parked his butt on and looked around.  Seeing you looking around, lugging a suitcase behind you as you searched for him.  

He smiled as he ducked into the crowd, hiding behind pillars when you look close to his direction and fled behind signs.  He even picked up a sign and walked with it to keep your eyes off him.  Moving around to be behind you, he moved to deliver a hot puff of steam on your neck. 

Squealing, you whipped around with your palm open- ready to hit whoever just breathed on you.  Jungkook ducked to avoid you, your hand whooshing past his hair as he now sat squatting on the ground, snickering up at you.  You just lowered your hand with a huff and dramatic eye roll. 

“Unbelievable,” you told him as he stood back up and waved in your face.  You stood cross-armed as Jungkook just shook his head at your attempt at pouting.  He finally looked at what you were wearing- a new sundress and sandals with a cardigan.  He rose his eyebrows. 

“You look nice,” he commented without filter, the words slipping off his tongue as he wanted to bite it off from the look you gave him after he said it.  You looked down and pulled on the fabric of the dress before you shrugged and patted it back down. It was summer, it was hot and it was vacation time.  It seemed appropriate to you- plus you were meeting your Familiar’s family.  You didn’t think a sweatshirt and torn up jeans would really feel right. 

The two of you were soon stepping on the train out of the city- pushing your way through the crowd of rush hour morning travels.  The train was crowded as Jungkook looked around for you to sit somewhere.  You were being jostled from the train’s jerks and some random dude behind you was looking at you in a way that made Jungkook irk.  He was soon moving you to sit on a free bench seat as he stood and held onto the safety bar in front of you.  Anyone who looked at you below the knees had a glare and a puff of smoke blown into their face. 

The ride ran two hours and soon you were stretching up from the long sitting trip and stepping off onto the outside train platform of the country.  The air was a far stretch from the city air and it was quiet.  A small ticket window was sat in a small building attached to the platform but not much was there.  A small antique shop and snack shop. 

“I didn’t know you were a country boy,” you jested as you elbowed Jungkook’s side.  He looked down at you. “You’re so cocky, anyone would think you’re city born and bred.” 

Jungkook shook his head as he was soon looking over his shoulder as someone called him. The old man working the ticket window had slid it open and waved to the high schooler.  Jungkook smiled in recognition as you just looked back and forth between the two.  Jungkook looked at you with a shrug and smile. 

“It’s a small town.  Everyone knows everyone.”  He guided you over to the old man- a friend of his dad’s.  You exchanged greetings and just stood and watched as the two talked.  The old man talking about Jungkook’s father and him replying that he was here to visit.  They talked for a few minutes before Jungkook was insisting to leave, having a place to be anyway.  

You bit back a laugh as Jungkook just sighed from having to keep his conversation brief.  Especially when it came to you.  Not every human knew of magic and myths. With Jungkook being from a small town like this, only a handful- if that- actually knew he was a dragon.  So, trying to explain that you were here to meet his family and spend a vacation with him despite not being in a relationship was tough.  

“I’m just gonna tell everyone we’re dating,” he came to a pouting conclusion.  You swatted his arm. 

“It’s wrong to lie,” you told him before he was dragging his feet.  

“I’d be the best boyfriend.” 

“Yes, because top tier means sneezing fire into my face.” 

“I’ve never- oh wait.  Nevermind,” he was about to deny the fact, but the memory of him sniffing some random potion you were brewing making him sneeze came back to him.  He then gasped, “that was one time anyways!” 

“You still singed my hair!”  Both of you bickered back and forth until Jungkook noticed the house just down a small path.  Elbowing your side, making you wince and rub on it, he smirked and pointed.  Following his finger, you saw a small farmhouse.  Well kept for the location being out in the middle of seemingly nowhere.  White with dark lining and a patio that rounded the front and left of the home.  Just looking at it from afar made you feel a sense of welcome that you hadn’t felt before. 

Walking on ahead of you, Jungkook took the lead as you were left to catch up to him. The closer you both got to the house, the easier you could see it and it wasn’t long before Jungkook caught sight of a little girl running back and forth on the porch. In return, the girl noticed the duo and when you got close enough to her, she shouted in through the front door inside. Then, she turned and started running at you both. 

Barreling into Jungkook’s gut, her head plowed into his stomach as she latched herself onto his lower half, leaving Jungkook a semi-coughing, semi-laughing mess. She looked so young, so small and it didn’t take a genius to know that this was Jungkook’s younger sister. 

“I missed you,” she pouted into Jungkook’s shirt.  He placed a hand on her head, ruffling her hair that was as dark as his own.  “You never come home to visit!” She continued. 

“I’m busy at school, you know that, Lil,” Jungkook laughed out.  Pulling her back to lift her up, he soon held the little girl on his hip as she noticed you and smiled.  “Liliana, this is Y/n.” He leaned to whisper in her ear, “she’s a witch.”  Liliana gasped as she looked at her brother in shock and awe before looking back at you and giggling- bouncing in her brother’s arms.  

She leaned to whisper back in Jungkook’s ear, away from your hearing.  “She’s pretty,” she complimented.  Jungkook chuckled.  

“I completely agree,” he told her.  You stood there, arms crossed as you tapped your finger on your arm.  Jungkook soon laughed at, you clearly disliking being left out of the conversation. Jungkook introduced you both properly, sister to master and master to sister.  The entire time Lil was more interested in staring starry-eyed at you than holding any sort of coherent conversation a child could carry. 

She was soon leading you- more than Jungkook- inside to put your stuff away somewhere.  Lil was more than a bit impatient for you to fill her head with all sorts of magic tales and wanting you to show off your magic.  The fact that her brother was literally a magic half-dragon didn’t seem to really impress her. Perhaps it’s because she grew up knowing it. 

As Jungkook carried her back up the porch steps and Liliana talked your ears off, she was stopped in her wave of quick-fire questions by the call of her father who just stepped out of another room.  A red rag wiping off his wet hands he had just washed.  He looked older than he probably was as Jungkook smiled.  

“Liliana, let the poor girl rest.  You can’t just talk over her like that, you know better.”  Though his words were that of a scolding, his tone was nothing but gentle toward her.  She just smiled, nodding to her father as she wiggled free of Jungkook’s arms.  Running to her father’s side and grabbed his hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/n.” You were unusually shy when faced in front of him.  Jungkook told you his father and Liliana were just normal humans, but seeing them and their smiles towards you- someone wicked- it wasn’t something you were used to.  

Your father never looked at you like that. And that made you unconsciously grip the arm you kept constantly wrapped up in a bandage because of the wound he inflicted. 

Jungkook nudged your shoulder, getting your mind back to where it belonged- with him. Leading you behind his back, he dragged you inside his home.  He moved you into the living room, sitting you on the couch.  He could hear his father and Liliana go into the kitchen, leaving him a moment to talk to you.  

“You okay?” He asked, leaning into your line of sight. 

You nodded, still adjusting to the warmth you received. Jungkook just smiled as he flopped down on the couch, throwing his chest over your legs.  You squealed at his quick actions as he lay on your lap.  Looping his arms around your midsection and hummed.  You floundered, slapping his head as you started scolding him. 

“What are you doing?! Get off me!” Jungkook chuckled before he started laughing, outright rejecting your demands.  Your flustered outbursts weren’t backed up enough with legitimate demands to trigger any sort of subjugation, so Jungkook stayed exactly where he wanted. 

The chaos was added when Liliana heard the ruckus and ran into the living room, seeing her brother thrown over your lap.  She gasped before she tugged on her brother’s shirt collar, trying to free you.  Jungkook only laughed at her lack of strength as he clung to you. His teasing towards Liliana only made your own head spin more. 

His father rounded the corner, hearing all the noise and just laughed to himself at the scene.  He smiled at the sight of his son laughing so openly.  He just let the children be as he retreated back into the kitchen. He didn’t even go back into the living room when his daughter started screaming at her brother to ‘put his wings away and bring Y/n back down’.  Missing out on the sight of Jungkook unfairly flying up in the corner of his living room ceiling, you in his arms as he teased his sister far out of her reach and you stuck in his arms. 

XXX

On the first night of the trip to Jungkook’s home, you finally seemed to catch your breath.  With Liliana at your side constantly until she was called away by her father, and also being pulled into a mental- sometimes physical- tug of war between her and Jungkook, you finally had a moment of peace.  Liliana had gone to bed, Jungkook taking her because, despite her attachment to you, she did, in fact, miss her brother and practically demanded he takes her to bed and tells her of his classes.  

You sat outside on the wrap-around porch of the house, the sky a rainbow of blurry colors as the sun burned brightly before it would disappear for the night.  You were exhausted if you were being honest.  Being around Yoongi and in your shared dorm wasn’t nearly as exciting and busy as this small farmhouse with Jungkook’s family. 

Hearing the door open behind you, you turned to see Jungkook’s father step outside.  Holding a small mug in his hand, he moved to sit beside you and offered it.  Taking it with thanks, you smiled slightly at the hot chocolate sitting fresh in the mug. 

Jungkook’s father groaned dramatically like any older gentleman as he sat next to you.  

“I sure hope Liliana didn’t wear you out too much,” he joked.  “She’s a little spitfire, but she does mean well.”  

You nodded.  “I know that.  I can tell she’s a fan of anything supernatural.  She kept asking me to do all sorts of magic for her,” you laughed. Remembering how she would get excited every time you did anything even remotely minor.  You were actually kind of glad to summon a bird for the umpteenth time just to see how excited she became after you did. 

“I’m glad to see Jungkook is doing well too,” his father said.  He pulled a small pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one.  Jungkook told you he smoked, but he was doing better than before, not smoking as much and trying to quit.  It was a habit it took to when his mother died, and well he’s trying to stop. “I was always worried about him after his mother passed.  He was always on edge. He had such a chip on his shoulder and rejected so much around him.” 

You nodded.  You remembered the conversation you and he had in the mountain cave about his past after his mother died.  Going on a violent spree and turning on everyone and doing nothing good for himself or for others around him. 

“Jungkook actually told me about his mother,” you told him.  His father was shocked at that, knowing his son generally refuses to talk about his mother at all.  “He told me about the stupid things he did and all the crap he got himself into.  I guess he told me because at first we really didn’t like each other.” You snickered.  “I guess it wouldn’t be wrong to say we actually hated each other.  We couldn’t be around each other without arguing or shooting our mouths off.  So, it’s not hard to imagine when everything happened in regards to me, he got pretty mad.”  You picked at your finger, slightly regretting how repulsing you two were towards each other. 

“I wouldn’t guess that at all.  He seems rather attracted to you,” his father laughed.  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him so carefree and teasing.  He’s acting like he used to when his mother was alive.  It makes me feel better about him being away from home.” 

“You think so?” You asked as you took a sip of your warm- cooling- beverage. “I guess we get along way better now.  It’s hard to keep track of how much we’ve progressed as a pair when it comes to our past.” You announced.  You smiled as you looked at your feet. “Honestly, I was scared to come here.” 

“Oh?” His father inquired.  

“My relationship with my dad is… poor.  My mother died giving birth to me, and honestly, my dad couldn’t care less about me, where I go or what I do.  So, when Jungkook asked me to come with him here, I was scared.  I’ve never been around a family that didn’t reject me before- other than Yoongi and Parrish.” 

“I’ve heard that women who birth a baby of magic lose their lives in the process. It must be hard, not knowing your mother.” 

“I feel like if I knew her and then lost her, it’d be harder than it is now.  That’s why I felt a connection with Jungkook when he told me.  We finally had something in common.  We don’t have moms anymore.”  You tapped at your mug as you got lost in your mind.  Wondering what your mother was like as you often did when she came up in conversation.  

“So,” his father started, “who are Yoongi and Parrish?” You turned to him with a smile as you drew your knees up, almost excited to talk about them. 

“They're my family!” You beamed.  “Well, kind of.  Parrish took me in as a kid when my dad… well, that’s not important.  But Parrish and Yoongi basically let me live with them and Yoongi is like my brother.  All he does is tease and push me around though,” you sighed.  “He gets in my den all the time, steals my candles and makes me his scapegoat when he’s late for class!” For all you knew, he could be in your shadow hearing you bad mouth him and is making tally lists for how many chores you need to do as payback. “Parrish is way nicer than his son,” you pouted.

Jungkook’s father laughed as you complained, yet still endearingly spoke of your little unofficial family. You continued talking to him and the more you did, the more he could understand just how you and Jungkook could hate each other, in a weird sort of way.  You two were very much alike in more ways than one.  So, the fact that you two found common ground and grew because of that put him at ease. 

When it got darker out, his father ushered you inside to avoid getting a chill.  Heading in, you found Jungkook wandering around as he sighed at seeing you.  Saying he was looking around for you; you just rolled your eyes as his father explained that the two of you were talking outside.  It had been a while since he had a good conversation with someone other than his young daughter.  

You were to be staying in a spare room they keep in the house usually used for storage, but had been cleaned out due to your arrival. A small bed, a dresser, and vanity with a closet that wasn’t much bigger than your own back at the dorms.  Though the small room had a homey feel to it and you openly accept the family’s graciousness- as you were half expecting it either book it on the couch or in Jungkook’s room on a blanket pallet on the floor. 

It was nearly midnight and you couldn’t sleep.  The small lamp on your dresser lit your room dimly as you sat on the bed, suitcase only half unpacked. You only pulled your pajamas from it, a pair of shorts and a t-shirt (honestly one of Yoongi’s you stole). You didn’t know what to do with a lot of your stuff, feeling out of it from the new surroundings.  It was a nice place, but so different. You were restless.  

Jungkook could feel it.  He sat in his room, uneasy as he could feel all of your out of place emotions.  It itched under his skin and he couldn’t sit still- much less sleep because of it.  He brought you here to let you breathe, but it was going to be some work to get you to relax.  He sighed as he got out of bed, leaving a shirt behind as he walked out of his room with only his sweats on.  

Heading down the hall, he knocked on your door before entering even before you granted him access.  Walking in, he was greeted with you crossing your arms on your bed in the dim room.  More or less what he expected.  

“You can’t wait for anyone, can you? I didn’t say you could come in.” 

“It’s my house. Suck it up, honey.” He chided as you just rolled your eyes at him.  He shut the door behind him, walking to you and plopping himself down at the foot of your temporary bed.  “Why are you restless?” 

“You can tell?” You anxiously asked. 

“Yeah, I think your emotions are rubbing off on me.” 

“Sorry,” you told him, tinkering around with your fingers.  Guilt in your mind he could feel in his gut.  “I’m just not used to this,” you waved your hands around.  

“Do you not like it here?” 

“No!” You rejected.  “I do, but it’s just too peaceful, you know?  I’m used to the busy dorms with people going in and out and banging on walls to shut people up.  Or, going home and being in the uncomfortable area of my father.  I’ve never been to somewhere I’m able to relax before.” You lay backward, flopping onto the bed.  “It’s hard to relax when you never have before, you know?” 

Jungkook smiled at you.  He reached out and pinched your leg- exposed by your sleep shorts.  You squeaked, kicking him in reflex as he laughed lightly.  He turned to crawl towards the window by the bed, unlocking it and opening it.  Sliding a leg out, he was soon slipping out the window.  He looked at you when he was outside, pulling his wings out of his back as he leaned back in the window, looking at you. 

“Come out here. We can go explore!” He smiled.  

“Explore? At midnight?” You asked as he only nodded. 

“I want to show you something.” 

You side-eyed him.  “What if you're pulling me out of your house to ‘explore’ only to murder me because you secretly still hate me.”  He rolled his eyes as he reached in and grabbed your arms, pulling you across the bed and soon pulling you out the window.  Panicking that you’d ungracefully fall out the window, you clung to the dragon dragging you outside. 

Moving you around, Jungkook soon had you sitting on his chest as you glared at his dragonesque form, your eyes speaking words for you as he just mocked you. Now held hostage in the air, Jungkook was soon flying off away from the house, not knowing his father was watching from his own window as the two of you flew off- laughing at himself. 

XXX

You had nearly fallen asleep as Jungkook moved through the night air.  Being cool enough to make you shiver, Jungkook’s body was like a furnace that kept you warm.  Clinging to his chest, you nearly dozed off a handful of times, only woken up at Jungkook pushing on your back as he held you.  It wasn’t long before he finally stopped his flight and settled you both in the middle of a forested area.  You sent him another weary look. 

“You aren’t actually going to kill me in cold blood, are you?” He just smiled at you as he sat on a rock, sitting you on his legs.  Not letting you move, he made sure his arms were around your stomach, interlocking his fingers as he sat his chin on your shoulder.  “You’re awfully clingy.” 

“It’s cold,” he said nonchalantly. 

“You don’t get cold, you fire-eater.” 

“Then, you’re cold so I’ll keep you warm.”  He said, too proud to actually tell you that he just wanted you close to him.  He sat with his chin on your shoulder in silence as you finally seemed to relax.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker before he lifted his chin.  He nudged you, who started to doze again. “Hey, don’t sleep yet.”  

Waking lightly up, you gasped when something glowing a warm yellow hovered above your nose.  Thought to be a firefly, you rubbed your eyes when it wasn’t a firefly at all.  It was a dragonfly, glowing bright and warm in the dead of night.  Soon, dozens of dragonflies were buzzing around the forest in a warm, yellow glow.  Lighting the forest like the dawn.  

“They’re a magically developed crossbreed of a dragonfly. Green tail dragonflies properties mimick that of a firefly. This is where they live. They stay away from heavily populated areas and prefer clustered forests where they can fly freely.”  Jungkook told you, more than familiar with the insects hovering around.  

“They’re beautiful.” 

“Do you feel better now?” 

“What? Did you bring me all the way out here just to lift my spirits?” You teased with a small smile.  Jungkook just plopped his chin back onto your shoulder, smiling at you. 

“Yes, I did.”  

You weren’t expecting him to be quite so blunt; but instead, battle you with sarcasm and teasing of his own.  Turning away from him, you were glad it was dark out because he would waste no time in teasing about your red face- you’d just blame it on the chill outside. 

“I wonder what you were talking to dad about earlier,” he told you.  “I hope he didn’t pry into your life too much.  He has a bad habit of getting a bit nosy.” 

“Just like his son, huh?” He scoffed.  “We just talked a bit about family, nothing much.  He said he was shocked you told me about your mom. Said you didn’t like to talk about what happened.”  

He only nodded, agreeing with his father.  He didn’t, but oddly enough he was glad he did for once.  The conversation and admission of his mother’s death are what bridged a common ground with you.  It’s what brought you both to start agreeing and communication in something other than curses.  That tragic happenstance is ironically enough what made him happier in the situation he found himself in right this instant. Bound to you.  

“I regret hating you,” he admitted.  Pushing his forehead into your shoulder now, hiding his face behind your back.  “I regret being so awful towards you because of who you are, and I think I’ll feel that way for the rest of my life.” 

“I’ve told you before that it’s okay.” It was the same words he told you back then- back in the cave. He shook his head. 

He moved his hand to hold your arm, your infected blight that he wanted so badly to ignore.  The blight that he may have been able to stop and maybe even avoid if he wasn’t so stubborn back then.  If he didn’t hate you back when it happened, maybe he could've spared you the pain of it somehow and helped with the entire Zaros situation.  Even now, even when the magic is settled dim in your skin- it still ate away at you and hurt you any time you tried to use your trade. 

“It’s not okay,” he whispered guiltily.  Tightening his hold on you.  “Even though it’s not okay, I’m almost glad I hated you.  I’m glad I took you to the cave and told you about mom.  If this is how I feel about you now, then hating you was worth it.” 

“Feel about me now?” You questioned but he only remained silent, not giving you the satisfaction of any answers.  You half thought he fell asleep as you just turned to watch the dragonflies again.  Jungkook remained awake, warming your cold skin before you eventually gave in to your exhaustion and slept against his chest.  

“If this is how I feel about you now,” he said again, in a whisper to not disturb you.  “If this is it, I’m so glad I hated you.” He chuckled as he slowly moved you to carry you, standing and disturbing the dragonflies around as he prepared to go back to his home.  “I don’t think I could hate you again if I tried.  I’m starting to like you way too much.” 

The next morning, when his father went to wake his son up, he wasn’t in his room.  Instead, he found Jungkook sleeping beside you in your bed, still half-dragon. Wings folded on his back against the wall and scales adorning his cheeks. Holding you the same way his father used to hold his mother. With complete care and ease. 

-TBC-

[pain-somnia]

(1)so, i've been re-reading AOY for like, the third time, and i just wanted to tell u how much i appreciate the way you write all of the characters. i feel like you approach them with empathy, or at least an understanding of some sort. like, you don't ignore their flaws or their virtues, you don't get viciously against or in favor of any of them. and even if your fic is focused on Hyde&Jackie and their relationship, u give depth to almost all of the characters,

(2) none of them could be replaced with a cardboard cutout, u know? and the dynamics in the group are fantastic, everyone matters to everyone in one way or another (although there are different degrees of closeness, of course). a long time ago i had started reading the eric/buddy fic u mentioned, and while it was well written and intriguing, i couldn't get past the first few chapters bc i can't handle fics that are too biased (not to say that it was bad, it just wasn't my thing).

(3) plenty of other t7s fanfics are biased too (to a certain extent), which is fine and completely normal, but idk, i just love that u seem to care for everyone at least a little bit. it's one of the things that makes AOY so compelling to me. i'm looking forward to what's next, especially bc i wanna know how Hyde&Jackie are gonna deal with their new-but-not-really relationship,

(4)and i NEED more Buddy&Fez, and Jackie&Donna. i also i have a good guess as to the ship you're gonna introduce, so i'm excited to see how you're gonna tackle them 👀. anyway, i didn't mean for this message to get so long lmao. hope you're doing well 💕.

First, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING MY WORK I’m in awe that you re-read it that much (I’m always in awe when ppl re-read my work)

I’m blushing so hard from your compliments. When I first came up with the idea to do this time travel fic I did mostly focus on Jackie and Hyde but then I started to think about the other characters and how Jackie isn’t entirely selfish and she is a compassionate person, so why shouldn’t relationships with other characters be mentioned or highlighted in some way?

(gonna try and put everything under the cut so I don’t clog up the dash but if it doesn’t work I’m so sorry)

Besides the fact that the show was about the group of friends, a huge bit of inspiration for giving more attention to the other characters especially having them do activities with each other especially outside of the basement actually came from my own years as a teen and into my early 20s. The zenmasters fandom is still really new to me unlike the sasusaku fandom so many don’t know about how I got really sick and lost the closeness I used to have with my irl friends due to my illnesses and inability to do all of the things I used to do with them. This is my way of capturing my love for my old friends in a way.

My home used to have the same feeling as Eric’s basement (every time my family moved my house was still THE house) and I was one of like three friends that were licensed (even up to our mid 20s) and I was the only one everyone fully trusted to drive. So in a way I was the Eric of our friend group especially when you add in my mom’s train of thought when it came to my friends and I which was that she would rather us eat everything in her fridge in kitchen and have her go broke feeding us than for us to be out doing stupid shit. It didn’t stop us from doing stupid shit but that was our life lol

we used to trespass into places (abandoned houses, abandoned asylum, parks and fields and lakes when they were closed at night), I had an ex that stole a golf cart from a security guard cuz it was there and the keys were in the ignition and we all fucking scattered when the guy showed up, we would fuck around at my house or another friend’s house and drinking and weed (and acid and shrooms) were usually involved (I was the mom friend so I always took care of everyone and was designated driver), we went to concerts even if we had to drive to other states and also went to Warped Tour almost every year until I got sick af. We would find the perfect places to watch meteor showers and hold bonfires at a friend’s house (although we did start a bonfire in a soccer field we had no business being in at that time at night).

And we would drive around for hours with no destination. We typically told our parents we were going bowling when we did and we never fucking went bowling lol

There’s so much that we did

This is all the energy of my personal experience being a teenager with access to a minivan and then my own car that really made me think about the T7S gang and even though I want to focus so much on Jackie and Hyde and their romance, I feel like I would be doing such a disservice to the friendships in the show by not having them be actual friends in the story.

I’ve had a friend abandoned by her mother and she moved in with a bf and we all helped her (I had to teach her how to cook rice in a pot cuz her bf didn’t have a rice cooker and my mom made sure she knew she could come live with us if she got fed up with her bf’s family) and my family has opened their home to my friend and her family when they were in between homes. I’ve had to help friends through bad trips. We’ve all had our hearts broken. Some of us have dealt with being queer and learning about our own identities and the struggle with finding out who we really are. I found out my father wasn’t my biological father when I was 20 lol

And we all had each other during those moments. Just like how the T7S gang had each other. So I felt personally invested in making sure to elaborate on moments where they were hanging out and being friends to each other.

And I know. God that fic. Whenever I re-ead that fic I actually skip a lot and my last re-read of it made me feel like I couldn’t read it again just because it is way too biased. Like it completely absolves a certain character of everything and I kind of lost it when Brooke had to apologize to him in the fic....I feel like, you should definitely be able to criticize things that you love and that it doesn’t take away any love to recognize the bad with the good.

Like right now I have to show some bias against Kelso for the part of the story but I keep editing it so it’s not complete hate against him. It’s just for this part of the story he is well just being him which is unfortunately ugly and it has to be ugly until he can grow. But I feel guilty about it lol don’t hate me too much for what he has to go through first

Jackie and Donna. I have such a weak spot for them in my fic mostly because for the longest time I didn’t really have many girl friends. I was always too much of a boy, too weird, too ugly for the other girls so I didn’t have someone I was truly super close with until I was in like 8th grade. And there’s this sisterhood with Jackie and Donna that I wish they did better. Like ignoring s8 completely, there just could have been more. But the sweet moments we got were amazing. I just feel like the writers knew fuck all how to make the girls proper friends without feeling like they were losing the characters and how they were.

i will probably be introducing that ship in chapter 8. I’m just struggling wrapping up the last bit of chapter 7 aka the January 31st part. I’ve just been staring at page 56 and wondering if I’m doing it right.

[fiat-maria]

a sweet melody your heart clings to

[AN: ok so this has been sitting in my drafts for like a month and i finally finished it. fun fact! St. Eli’s (the church’s name) is short for St. Eligius, the patron of clock-makers. bc, you know, time. grandfather clocks. all that. anyway, miles smoking cigarettes is a little nod to the atlanta boot. actually, a lot of things in this are!]

Fandom: Tuck Everlasting (Musical)

Pairing: Miles Tuck/Rose Tuck (Miles’s Wife), some Angus/Mae

Genre: Fluff, lowkey sad in hindsight but it’s all happiness in the moment

Word Count: 1,823

Warnings: brief mention of cigarettes and alcohol, but no use of them

Tags: @tuck-everlasting-shitposts

June 23, 1810. Miles slowly awoke to the sound of church bells and muffled conversation. The latter came as a surprise- it was rare for the rest of the Tuck house to awaken before he did. He began to rest his head on the pillow again for a moment, but a realization caused him to bolt upright: it was the day of his wedding. He flung the sheets aside and rushed downstairs. There, he was greeted by his brother, who was obscured by a tower of waffles. 

“You’re up awful early. You do realize that it’s only half past six?”

Miles took a seat, slightly confused.

“Then why are you up? You’re like Lazarus in the mornings. Dead man rising- and it’s a miracle when you do.” Jesse simply snorted in reply.

“Yeah, Ma figured that one out after nineteen years, so she made me get up ‘bout half an hour ago. She’s been up since five trying to take care of everything. I think she might be even more wound up about this than you- she even cleaned.” With his last statement, Jesse looked almost concerned for their mother.

Miles laughed as he poured his coffee with hands that shook from a cocktail of excitement and nervousness. Mae swept into the room like a tornado, an immaculately pressed suit draped over her arm. She pecked her older son on the cheek, then handed him the suit.  A bittersweet smile emerged on her lips.

“I can’t believe that this day has come already. Both of you, wash up and get dressed. We have to be at St. Eli’s for a quarter to nine, do you understand? Jesse, your dress clothes are on your bed- and comb your hair for once. Be sure to wear your grey shirt. Miles, try to be ready a bit early so I can make sure that everything is in place. Oh, and Jesse, once you’re dressed, no shooting, no eating, and no tree climbing. And try to make sure your father does the same.” She disappeared as quickly as she came, leaving her sons stunned. 

“Are you sure Ma doesn’t have a twin or something? She’s being organized.” Jesse asked in disbelief.

“You know, I could almost believe that. I’m going get dressed.” With that Miles hopped up from his chair, leaving his coffee cup half full. He became enveloped in his racing thoughts- so much that he nearly missed a step as he climbed the stairs. He began to smile as his fiancées new name echoed in his mind. “Rose Tuck” was absolute music to his ears. He could scarcely believe that in a few short hours, he would be calling her his wife. He washed his face, mentally repeating his vows. As he grabbed his razor, he was tempted to steal a sip from his father’s flask to still his shaking hands, but decided against it. He began to get dressed, wincing at the sight of his blue-grey suit jacket.  The summer heat was unforgiving, and even more so in the cramped church. He sighed, but gave a small smile- knowing this “sacrifice” was for his future wife made it far more tolerable. He was brought back to reality by the realization that, no, his boots weren’t fitting incorrectly because Jesse had grabbed the wrong pair, but instead because he was trying to shove his right boot on his left foot. He fixed his mistake then headed back downstairs for a “uniform check” from his mother. 

Seeing her from the top of the stairs, he descended slowly, then tapped her shoulder. 

“You look even prettier than usual, Ma.”

As she looked at her son, Mae felt tears begin to prick at her eyes as she beamed. Miles wrapped his mother in a hug, but she patted his arm gently and broke the embrace.

“Now, I don’t want you to get all wrinkled. Let me see...” She began tugging and adjusting almost everything he had on, trying to busy herself. Jesse gave his brother a knowing glance and they remembered their mother scrubbing their faces and straightening their clothes when they were little boys. Normally, Miles would insist that everything was fine, but he relented, knowing how important this day was to her. Once everything was to her standards, Mae stepped back and took in the bittersweet sight of her son before her. Jesse broke the silence, calling to her, “Ma, don’t worry, you’ve still got me around.” 

She laughed in spite of her worries and Miles took her hand. 

“Yep, he’s the spare,” he quipped.

“Hey!”

“Don’t start, you two. We need to leave soon. Jesse, go get your father.” Before Jesse could do so, Angus entered the living room. He patted Miles on the back and chuckled. 

“Goodness, it’s like I went back twenty years! Well, son, are you ready?”

Miles could only smile in response, his nerves starting to get to him.

Angus chuckled, seeing a reflection of himself as a young groom in Miles’s face.  “Yep, you’re my son through and through. We better get going, unless you want your bride getting as nervous as you are.”

“Angus, don’t scare him!” Mae tutted, swatting her husband on the shoulder.

“See, there’s a glimpse of the future!” Angus quipped, grabbing his wife’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

Miles headed towards the door, but felt a tug at his coat. Turning, he saw that the culprit was his mother.

“Let me fix your jacket, it’s crooked.” She smoothed her hands over the grey wool, stopping suddenly.

“Empty your pockets.”

Sheepishly, Miles pulled out a silver cigarette case.

“Ma, you know how tense all this is.” Mae raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, unwavering. 

“Huh,” Jesse thought, “that’s where he gets that face from.”

“No son of mine is smoking in his good suit, and certainly not on his wedding day. You can have it back after the ceremony.” Her face softened a bit, a warm, knowing smile peeking through.

Miles sighed, smiling in return. He knew his mother well- this was a battle he’d never win.

“Yes, ma.”

•••

As he stood before the altar, Miles had three thoughts on his mind: how dreadfully hot this church was, how much he despised his heavy suit jacket, and why Rose had still not come down the aisle. He felt himself getting sick, perhaps because he was possibly overheating, but mostly because of the scenarios his mind had created to explain why he was still waiting. He had heard stories about runaway brides- Rose wouldn’t, would she? No, she’d never abandon him. But what if?

He tried to distract himself by looking at the familiar faces in the pews. His heart sank to his feet as he saw them whispering and shaking their heads. Surely they were talking about how foolish he looked, pitying him. (Little did he know, the old men were laughing at how much they saw their past selves in the young groom as their wives commented on the beautiful decorations that adorned the church.) He weakly mustered an attempt at a smile as he gave a small wave to the guests. As he did so, he calculated the likelihood of being murdered by his mother if he decided to make a run for it. 

Before he could start making a getaway plan, he heard a subtle creaking sound. Joy and relief overwhelmed him as the doors parted, and he felt his knees grow a bit week at the sight of his bride. A halo of apple and pear blossoms encircled her head, resting upon the gauzy veil that fluttered behind her. Her snowy gown, tied with a pale pink ribbon, obscured her feet and made her appear to glide down the aisle. The most beautiful thing of all was her radiant, loving smile. Miles felt as if his heart could burst- even waiting for a millennium would have been worth seeing Rose like this. 

The ceremony was a blur of happiness.  The perfume of the fruit blossoms and Rose’s bouquet, the heat, and the blessing that was his bride’s presence intoxicated him. He was drawn from his stupor by six long-awaited words: “You may now kiss the bride.” He gladly complied, pulling his wife- his wife! -into a euphoric kiss. He would have given her another, and another, and more after that had he not reminded himself of the smiling crowd of guests. The newlyweds made their way down the aisle arm-in-arm, thoughts only on each other. 

•••

After the ceremony, what seemed like the entire population of Treegap crammed into the parish hall. The newlyweds danced until their sore feet protested loudly enough to force them to sit. Guests swirled around them like clouds of dust, giving congratulations and advice. Countless old women pinched Rose’s cheeks, reciting rhymes to “predict” her marriage’s future. 

“Well, what does Mrs. Hammond say the future has in store for us?” Miles asked playfully as the copper-haired woman left. Neither one put much stock in old wives’ tales, but that didn’t stop them from finding them entertaining.

“According to her, a farmhouse and a little boy next April. Oh, and a very long, healthy life,” Rose replied with a grin as she took hold of Miles’s hand, rubbing her thumb over his ring.

“Mrs. Clarke is convinced that we’ll be raising twin girls in town by next summer- and all because Mrs. Tuck wore a white dress for a Saturday wedding.”  Miles pulled his bride a bit closer. She laughed and brushed some rice off of her husband’s jacket, then pointed behind him.

“If it isn’t Jesse and the Rogers girl,” she whispered, smirking.

Miles snorted. “Oh, Lucinda? Seems like he’s been trying to get her attention since our first day in Treegap.”

“No, not Lucinda. Agnes.” Miles turned around to see his brother being dragged into a dance by a giggling little girl, maybe six years old at most. He almost hollered with laughter at the sight, thoroughly enjoying the glare Jesse shot his way. The younger Tuck tried to be a good sport, even as the jig’s tempo increased. Miles followed the child’s lead, sweeping Rose into another dance.

He glanced over Rose’s shoulder, scanning the other couples in the crowded hall.  A flash of deep teal caught his eye, and he recognized the blur as his parents.  They seemed half their age, their dancing as lively as their laughter.  Their look of devotion that illuminated their faces just as brightly as the one the newlyweds shared. Miles pulled Rose closer, smiling as he imagined himself and his wife in his parent’s place twenty years from now. He nudged her and twirled her to share the sight, then whispered an echo of his father’s words from that morning.

“See, there’s a glimpse of the future.” Rose beamed in response, pressing a kiss to Miles’s lips.

“In that case, I’m looking forward to every minute.”

[valtheimm]

would it be naughty to ask for every even number of the OC ask meme for gorgeous angel thalion? i love her already...

Naughty! But i forgive you instantly, i want nothing more than people asking me qs about my girls with such zeal! 💗💖💕💞💝💟💓2. Does your oc collect anything?Well, she doen't sell some memorable artifacts/junk she got along the way, like Aurnora's amulet or the swords she used to use. Apart from that she doesn't collect anything. Yet. We'll see.4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?She is middle class and her mother is a tailor, so she is used to some degree of finery. Not too lavish, but nice and comfortable. That partially went out of the window when she screwd her relationship with her family. Nowadays she wears armor, but she still misses fine clothes. Eventually i'll start linking fashion she likes.6. What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?So far she's not thrilled about Cyrodiilic wildlife that strives to kill her. In this house we don't like birds much, but i can imagine her living with a crow. Yeahh, that sounds good.8. What is your OC’s theme song? Haven't figured one and only for her yet, but in her playlist there's definitely J Lo's 'Dinero' and Nelly Furtado's 'Maneater'. She's trash. I love her.10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?Maybe greed, but she does donate to the poor. She just really likes money, ngl.12. How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?Like 50/50. She will wait, but she may whine about it. She will charge the daedra head-on tho.14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?She likes pumpkins, the weirdo. She also likes pastries and apples and roasted meat. This is basically what she usually steals from castles, bc she doesn't believe in paying for food. Other than that she's used to typical Cyrodiilic food, because she grew up there. Doesn't like corn or rice. Steals them all the same and uses them for potions.16. What does your OC smell like? Rain and freshly moved grass and sometimes like ash and hellfires.18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?Huh. I don't think i'm ready to answer this, i don't know her well enough. -+She is physically not very strong and relies on magic a lot. But she is very good at destruction, especially fire, and gets better every day. -She is selfish and mostly does good deads for something. She *will* help you, but not of sheer goodness of her heart. She'll expect something in return. +But if she finds a person she loves she goes 'ride or die' with them (at least one of these people is Rhea, bc bitches eventually meet up).-She does get jelous too. What's hers is hers.+She is confident in herself, but not arrogant, thanks god.20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?I am going to include her in my Fallout au probably. She goes for punk aesthetic, gets herself a nailed baseball bat and confidently blasts her way through hardships.22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?The one that gets mostly Cs and just wings it. She enrolls into IC Arcane Univercity to understand magic better and better control it, but the lectures are *so* boring to her she quits eventually. She likes more practical magic. She gets bored easily. She is NOT an academic. 24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy/ what do they think in general about living?Huh. Thal is not pessimistic, but is a bit whiny. She's that pic from Bob's Burgers 'fine, i'll do it, but i will complain all the way'. But she mostly complains internally. Generally 'life sucks and she deserves better, where're ten handsome men with fans feeding her grapes?' She's not wrong tho, she spends mostly all the time wet and cold from rain and constantly half-hungry.26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them?Rhea. She learned once about an existance of a sister from her dad when he was drunk again, so she tried to find her after Oblivion Crisis. That was after Red Year, so it was a dead end. They eventually meet through none other than Eris (and also Faralda). Rhea is her only family now and she is constantly impressed by her older sister. Rhea knocks some sense into her academia-wise too. Thal considers both Rhea and Eris giant nerds. Which they are. Anyway, she loves her sister.Her dad. She kind of killed him. But that is a story for later.28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?Can't say much here. She taps her leg when she's impatient.I still have no idea what stimming is too, so she doesn't do it.Thal is careful about her addictions. She doesn't even drink coffee. She *is* 'addicted' to fire though. She is kind of an arsonist, which may or may not correlate with the previous question,,,30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?Hm, i don't think so. First we'd have to find a LI for her. I considered Martin before i met him, but now that's a hard pass for her. We'll see how it goes.And she's too young to have kids, not that she wants any.32. If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?Right now i honestly have no idea.34.What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?She likes to know what's happening around her in different social groups, but she doen't actually participate in any of them much. But she likes to have the information and maybe use it. 36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?Again, no idea right now. I just can say that she wants a better control over herself and be less lazy probably. She has a long way to go, so we'll figure this out :)38. What would your character do with a million dollars? Open a shop, which she does. I talked about it in a previous ask :)40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?She's a wet and cold goblin that just wants some free food and a free bed. Right now she only goes to taverns or sulks around palaces, stealing food and information and finding a warm bed to sleep in.42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from? Not yet she doesn't44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?Doesn't like it. Well, who does. She'll listen, but is most likely to stay by her own opinion.46. Your character is given a voodoo doll of themself. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?Just a typical 'give it a shoulder rub, put it in a nice bath' type of things. I do hope it works.48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?Ohh hoo boi. Her mother is middle-class Altmer who had come from Summurset to Cyrodiil and have been living there for quite a while. Has a bad taste in men, considering Thal's father. She loved her daughter in her own, maybe a bit cold, way, but after what happened to her husband and her shop in process that love has diminished.Thalion's dad was a drunk even when he was still with Rhea's family. With being drunk came occasional beating. Since he abandonned them he picked up gambling in Cyrodiil. But he is very charismatic and charming and his get-rich-quick schemes often worked out, so Thal's mom got sucked into the relationship. She didn't believe Thal when she told her dad beat her up, because her husband is a very good manipulator too. All in all, the man sucks. One fine day when he was asleep Thalion got into his room, lit up a candle, dropped it on the floor and burned the whole shop to hell. Her father suffocated in the process. Her mom wasn't home. The arson got pinned on Thal, but she denies it vigorously to this day. But if you ask her about it again, she'll probably say 'yeah, i did it'. 50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count? So, if Thally was in Martin's shoes? At first she'd try to get out of it, but after time/if her loved onea were included, she'd do the right thing. She would definitely try to make her last days count thoughThank you so much, this made my two whole days and waa also very useful 💓💟💝💖💗#asks #/thal/

[mysmeshc]

omg i'm so excited for this request less DO this MC Accidentally Hurts Herself Yoosung - Yoosung ALWAYS cooks for you - And you LOVED it!! He was so sweet - but you wanted to cook for him too! - You, being a smartie, decided to make one of his faves, Omurice!! - It's just an omelette on rice, right? how hard can that be?? - o h l o r d - the rice took forever and you went through six eggs trying to make the perfect omelette - F I N A L L Y you get it - All this needs is a touch of green onion and- - MOTHER FU- - Your finger got sliced pretty good, blood dropping onto the cutting board. - You were cleaning up when you heard the door open - "Hey sweetheart! I'm ho- MC!!" - You hadn't noticed you were crying until your loving boyfriend wiped your tears. - "OhmygodMCwhathappened??" - he always spoke quickly when he was nervous - "I-I cut myself trying to make you Omurice because I know it's your favorite..." - Yoosung whined like a puppy, seeing the dish sitting there, still steaming hot. - "Let's get you cleaned up." He grabbed the first aid kit, tenderly wrapping some gauze around the wound and finally planting a healing kiss on it. - "There! All better!" - He smiled at you and you made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the now warm meal. - His eyes lit up and he bounced on his chair. - "MC this looks so tasty I can't wait to try it!" - Yoosung was drooling, grabbing the fork from your hand and digging in, take a bit about as big as his head. - His eyes rolled back and he moaned, chewing his food slowly, as if to save the flavor. - "MC, this is the best food I've ever had! But..." - but - but what??? - "What's wrong Yoosung?" - "I want you to take a cooking safety class with me! that way I can eat your food without worrying about your safety..." - Awe you're adorable lil puppy - You gave him a chaste kiss - "Of course, Yoosungie~" Zen - Zen is very athletic - More than the average person - So OFC you were intimidated when he asked you to go on a bike ride. - "Come on babe! Some exercise with my favorite girl in the world?? Don't make me pass this up." - Cue puppy dog eyes - Oh no - You are WEAKLESS - ". . . Okay, Zenny." You gave in. Of course you did! You loved this man. - "Yes babe you're the best!!" Zen spun you around. - but ohohoho u had no idea what you got yourself into when he takes you to the trail you were supposed to """ride""" - more like FALL DOWN THE INCLINE WAS LIKE PERPENDICULAR TO THE GROUND U WERE ON. - Before you could voice your concern Zen already took off - Your pride and ego were louder than your sense of judgement so you bolted after him. - u screamed. - very much. - But you actually got down okay!!! - Now the path was scenic and only a slight downhill incline. - "Zen look at the pretty birds!!" - what you didn't see was the pretty rock that was right in your path. - The next thing you know u went face first into the gravel road. - "MC" Zen gripped the breaks so hard and flew off his bike, running up to you. - "Oh my god MC are you okay?" He lifted your face up and his own went white(r that usual) at the sight of the large gash on your eyebrow, the blood dripping down into your cheek. - "Ah I'm okay Zen, my head just hurts..." you reached up to pat the pained spot but froze when your fingers met wet and sticky skin - "Uh oh... is it bad?" - Zen was still pale, but came to his senses and waved you off - "Pshh its... fine!! honestly you can't even tell-" - "Zen you're awful and lying." you giggled nervously. - bc having a gash on your forehead meant that you were Incapable of Any Task Due to Mass Injury™ he would carry you to the nearest first aid station - the guy working there jumped when he saw you, asking if you got knifed to the face - "no sir i just can't ride a bike." - he patched you up as Zen apologized every five seconds. - "Just kiss it better and I'll forgive you." - Zen smiled, and kissed the bandages on your forehead. - You two only rode tandem bikes now, with you in the back. Jaehee - You hadn't slept well the night before but duty called at the cafe. - You opened the cafe for today and you had to be cheerful and bright to start people off with a good morning. - Jaehee met you there at 4:30 am since the store opened at 5 and you had to set everything up. - You were pouring your own cup of coffee when your eyes began to drift shut. - Mmmm. Coffee smells so go- - HOT!! HOT!! CALIENTE!!! - You jerked your hand back as you had poured too much, but that just caused the cup to spill more coffee on the effected hand. - you yelled in pain as you sprinted to the sink, cold water cooling down the now blistering skin. - "MC!! Is everything-" Jaehee scrambled in until she saw your hand. She yelled, running to find the first aid kit. - You sat down with her, tears threatening to fall from the throbbing pain in your left hand. - "It's okay MC. I'm going to put some cooling cream and wrap this up. You must be more careful in the future. . ." You sighed out of approval when she placed the cooling cream on, instant relief washing over you. - "I'm sorry Jaehee, I didn't sleep well at all last night and I wasn't focusing." - "MC you should have told me, I could've easily opened up the shop on my own had I been made aware!" She scolded you lovingly. - "I'm sorry... I just didn't want to dissapointed you..." - oh no MC - ur sad face is killing Jaehee - "You could never dissapoint me." Jaehee smiled, pressing her lips to the now wrapped hand. - You two decided to close the shop and catch up on lost sleep together. Jumin - You were watching TV when the door opened behind you. - Knowing exactly who the "intruder" was you smiled gleefully, standing up from your spot and turning around. - Just as you expected, your giraffe of a husband was standing the doorway, his suitcase placed the table and his eyes looking back up to you. - "Come here, kitten" His arms widened as a relieved smile painted his features. - "Jumin!!" You bounded towards him, about to jump into his arms when your foot met one of Elizabeth's toys that she had forgotten there. - It all happened in slow motion for Jumin as he bounded foreword, just barely catching you before you fell. - "MC!! Oh my God!" - You looked up at him with big, teary eyes and a pouty face. - u had never been so embarrassed in your LIFE - Jumin felt his heartbreaking into a million pieces bc of how painfully adorable you looked. - "Hey, it's okay! I-I'll have a chat with Elizabeth about leaving her things just anywhere." - He stood you up and you immediately winced, lifting your foot off the ground. - "Ah!" you grimaced, Jumin once again placing his arms around you. - "My dear, what's-" He looked down to the foot you lifted, noticing the ankle already starting to swell and turn purple. - "It's okay, I just need to rest it and some aleve..." You smiled, wiping your tears. - "I'm sorry, my love, but I cannot allow such a generalized treatment for someone like you." He then swooped his arms down to pick you up princess style, being very mindful of your ankle. - "Jumin! It's okay, really!" You tried to reason with him, but the remorseful look in his eyes shut you up. - "I just want your pain to subside as soon as possible, dear." now it was his turn to give you puppy dog eyes as he sat you both down on the couch. - oh nO - U were powerless against it. - "Ah... okay Jumin." You smiled, his hand immediately reaching for his phone and calling his doctor, requesting a house visit. - The doctor came and gave you some tips on how to make it heal faster, how to wrap it, and when to use ice and heat. - You thanked him profusely as he walked out, Jumin immediately wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. - You knew this was the "I'm holding you close bc Im protecting u from all evil plz love me." - "Thank you Jumin, you always make me feel better. I love you very much." Your words were muffled in the fabric of his sweatshirt, but he knew exactly what you said, and you pretty much felt the pride beaming off of him. - "I love you too, princess." You felt his smile as he kissed the top of your hair. Seven - Seven was in one of his ""edgy moods"" and refused to eat, sleep, or spend any time with you. - It wasn't as bad as before, at least, with his dismissals being somewhat polite. - "Seven? I made dinner. . . could you please come out and eat?" - "Sorry, MC, I have a big assignment I'm working on." His eyes never left the screen as you walked in closer. - "But I made your favorite! Surely you could take a break for 15 minutes?" - "I'd love to MC but I really can't." You could tell he was starting to get frustrated with you, but you continued, knowing that him being angry at you as better than him slowly rotting from the inside out. - "O-Okay Seven. Can I at least bring it in here so you can eat?" You walked closer, placing your hand in his shoulder. - He whipped around in his chair and stood up, towering over you. "What part about "I can't" don't you understand? God, sometimes it feels like I say something and it just goes in one ear and out the other with you, I'm sick of it!" - oh now w h a t was that tone? - you glared right back up at him, seeing his demeanor begin to crumble as he gulped back. - "Listen here, Agent 707! I did not BUST MY BUTT! Making YOUR! FAVORITE! DINNER! Just to be shoved aside like the old days!!" You pressed your finger into his chest to accent each word. - "M-MC I-" - "I'm just so sick and tired of you treating your body like shit! I just... I just... ARGHH!" You yelled, slamming your fist into the wall next to you, creating a decent sized hole. - Seven looked at you, both shocked and impressed. - Until he saw the tears stream down your face, your fist now pulled out of the wall. - Oh m y - "Oh shit! MC! Let me see it!" he grabbed your fist, examining the blood pouring down from your knuckles. -He dragged you to the kitchen, grabbing the first aid kit and wrapping your knuckles up to stop the bleeding. - "Funny how now you're willing to spend time with me..." you wiped your tears and looked anywhere but him. - "MC... I'm sorry I've been pushing you away. I don't mean to I just-" - "What, Saeyoung? What did I do to deserve this?" - O H - You not only used his real name but your last statement sucker punched him in the heart. - "N-No MC! I swear it's not you! I'm just stupid!" - "Well stop being stupid!! Agent 606 needs her Agent 707..." - Seven's face lit up with a smile, using the nickname he gave her made his heart melt. - "I miss you too. Let me make it up to you by spending the next week hacker free, okay?" - You smiled back. - "Okay."

[inktae]

Mari Mari my dear love since we are talking about this, can I ask you sth? (via ask and not chat cos it may help some people out there) well, a dear friend of mine decided to "go on a diet"... The thing is that she never actually said it was a diet but more of a "I'm not really hungry in this period" and it happened right after a super bad break up with her boyfriend (almost 3 years of dating ok, so it wasn't just a fling). Like... She isn't really vegetarian since she eats meat/fish around 1

Once every two months or something but… We eat together every day since we are classmates and ok she never was a big eater in the first place but since the break up (3 months ago) she is fucking coming in class with a bowl of 3 carrots and like 5 tomatoes and I’m extremely worried >

Like… Not even pasta or rice anymore!! So I asked her if she wasn’t on a diet and she replied me “no, I’m not really hungry these days”. But after another week she started saying how she didn’t like her physique (she’s around 1.63 like me and 53-54 kilos, NOT FAT AT ALL) or how at dinner her mother forced her too eat pasta. PASTA OK. You need carbs ffs, especially if you ate so little at lunch! And those complains… Really made an alarm ring in my mind so I asked her again if everything was 3

Fine yk? And she said yes yes dw. But she just kept eating so little and indeed she lost quite some weight in these months. Everyday I tell her she looks amazing and that she can’t eat so little especially now that’s hot and she has low bloody pressure:/ but she just shrug me off. Once we also fight quite badly cos she came with only a bowl of almonds (around 15, I counted em) for lunch and I really tried to be calm but me saying her that her eating habits weren’t good really made her snap :/ 4

Ofc we solved it out after, but she keeps eating like this and I’m afraid the more I’ll talk with her about it the more she will build a wall (she is also very proud so that doesn’t help at all) to leave me out (at least on that matter, cos we are super close for everything else). Another friend started to notice her behavior and she’s getting really worried too and again we both tried talking to her a couple of weeks ago but her excuse was “my dad I vegan I know what im doing, im not on a 5

Diet, mind your own business” and look, I seriously don’t know what to do anymore :/ ofc you can eat veggies for lunch but NOT THIS LITTLE. Saying that really breaks my heart and i can see how thin she got in the last three months :/ she not underweight yet but I’m worried she will be if she keeps going like this. Also, her complaining about her body and how obsessed she is with not eating carbs kinda frighten me… I don’t wanna rush things but… Her behavior and how long it has been

Since she started this “diet” are very very close to the characteristic of some eating disorders and I really dunno what to do anymore. I try not to show my worry to her too much but clearly talking is not working and I’m wondering if I should find some other way to help her :/ any suggestions?

omg this is actually extremely worrying.. :/ emotional distress can block your stomach, yes, but it can be so so dangerous to let it dominate you. she needs to be educated about the nutrients her body needs to assimilate to actually function as a human being, bc clearly she’s deluded into thinking that her diet is healthy. to be honest with you, there are diets low in carbs and they can actually be healthy if done well (the paleo diet for example), but if you are going to remove something off your diet, then the more careful you need to be about what you eat, the more diverse your eating habits need to be, and you ESPECIALLY need to take care about the amount you’re eating everyday. the more specific foods you cut out, the more you need to eat of the remaining foods. people have this wrong misconception that eating less is better, and yes you might lose weight that way, but will you feel good? no, you won’t. hell it can even lead to serious problems like damage in the nervous system.

a healthy way of eating is not eating 10 almonds or two bites of vegetables like she’s doing.. it as simple as choosing a healthy option instead of an unhealthy option when you’re hungry. I bet she’s starving all the time and that is just not good for her. her young body might not be feeling it right now, but be sure as hell that the more she ages the more this dangerous way of diet will affect her. then again, she mustn’t have any energy already, which is totally the opposite of what you need during exams or hectic times in school!

also, her father being vegan is not a good excuse, because there are actually a lot of unhealthy vegans out there who only eat salads or only eat vegan junk food, which of course leads to countless deficiencies. if she is trying to go vegan and is eating like that then she is for a huge reality check in the future. to be honest, it is hard to do something when she doesn’t want to listen, but I assure you she must not be feeling physically well at all.. and yes, more than dieting this looks like the beginning of a serious eating disorder.

some suggestions.. tbh, you guys could try to go out for lunch or dinner together more frequently. start out with healthy places if you know them (asian restaurants can have lots of healthy options), so she’s at least getting more stuff in her stomach. maybe try to talk her into eating more quantities of vegetables, so her body gets used to eating bigger amounts and then she will start craving more stuff. you could also invite her for activities that involve heavy exercise because exercising increases your appetite, so she might be inclined to eating more if she’s more physically active.

though personally, what I would do is confront her again, but not let her get the upper hand. it might turn into a fight, but at least she would be listening, right? and that is already a good step. she says that it’s none of your business, but when she’s worrying you and your friends, then it is more than that, and this girl needs to understand that. tbh I think this is one of the cases where you just can’t leave her alone, even if she feels uncomfortable — she might get mad, but keep pushing until you get another reaction from her. tell her to visit a nutritionist, tell her to get her blood tested, and hell if she doesn’t want to talk to you, convince her to talk to someone else instead. but definitely do not let this go.. you guys still have time to get her on the right track again. good luck conny :’(

[ai-dol-requests]

Sick!DAY6

Jae - Even more hyperactive than normal - “Wait, I just thought of a cool guitar riff, lemme show you.” Proceeds to fall flat on his face after tripping on his blankets. - Wraps himself in the blanket and lays on the floor. “This is my home now.” - You end up having to drag his lanky ass frame back to his bed - “You have to make a dope ass playlist for my funeral.” “Jae, it’s just a cold.” “I can see the light.” “Yeah, the light from your bedside lamp.” “Oh.” - Still talks to the members through Kakao - It’s mostly just weird stuff and boasting about how good you are at taking care of him - Would probably dab after tasting your soup - Actually can’t even taste it but he likes embarrassing you - Shouts “CHICKEN SOUP FOR CHICKEN LITTLE”

Young.K - “I’m fine.” “Brian, there’s so much snot dripping from your nose, I could fill a bucket with it. You are not fine.” - Insists on working on the lyrics for their next song but his handwriting looks like scribbly lines - Tries to hold his bass but drops her accidentally. Cries and apologizes to her for the next three hours. - Starts trying to apologize/thank you at the same time but it comes out as “I’m sorry that you’re being such a great friend.” - Would thank you properly after he got better - Lots of groaning and self-pity (basically whining tbh) about being unable to work - You’d have to comfort him like a child while he’s sniffling and crying - Would also be embarrassed about how much he cried after he’s healthy again. Denies it when the others tease him.

Sungjin - Would definitely call himself Bob - Busan accent so thick he sounds like a gangster on the street picking a fight - But actually he’s saying stuff like “Thanks for helping me and always taking care of me. You’re a good person. I’m glad I’m friends with you.” - Accidentally sneezes on you and looks like a deer in headlights afterwards - Lists all the reasons why he can’t get sick now - “Wait, let me just text our manager and the members that I’m sick.” “Okay, fine.” “And also our composer, producer, arranger, JB, Jinyoung, Jackson–” “Sungjin, no.” - Also tries to act like he’s not sick - When he finally accepts he’s too sick to do anything, he’ll suggest some home remedies his mother taught him - Which ends up tasting really gross but he sucks it up until you stop him. “I think you’ve had enough; your face looks like it’s going to implode.”

Junhyeok - The worst sick person - Would be so out of it - Confused as heck - Sweaty as heck - The type of person to start stripping bc it’s too hot but stops halfway - with only one arm out of his sweater - because it’s the perfect temperature - “(y/n), you were here?” “I’ve been here for the last two hours??” “Really?” “You’ve been talking to me the whole time???” “Ah, I was wondering why my head voice sounded like a girl.” - Sleeps a lot - Mumbles incoherently - “I can drink water by myself.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah.” Spills it all over himself and the bed - Also smiles a lot - Would refuse to eat the food you made unless it tasted good - Would totally forget about what happened while he was sick - Apologizes after you/someone else reminds him

Wonpil - Needy as heck - Also whiny as heck (about how sick he is) - So much aegyo - Probably even more cross-eyed than usual - Would still be able to play the piano decently tbh - “You should leave. I don’t want you to catch my cold,” he’d say while cuddling you on his bed - Would smile while you were talking to him but actually he’s not listening and just looking at you - Wants you to fuss over him - “I want strawberry milk.” “Okay, I’ll go buy some. Let go of me, first.” “Don’t wanna.” - And his face would just scrunch up deciding what to do - Eventually, he’d let you go but would end up cuddling you again when you came back - Is embarrassed about how he acted afterward

Dowoon - So quiet normally that you wouldn’t even notice - You just touch him un/intentionally and he’d be burning up - “I have a cold?” “Yeah, you idiot.” - Hoarse voice - Gummy smile - Would giggle a lot - Cries after eating the food you made him. “It was delicious.” “I literally just boiled rice and added salt. You know I can’t cook.” “But it was so good.” - This is literally the only time he would ask, “Can I hold your hand?” because he’s normally too shy to - Also cute as heck - His fingers would still be tapping his bed and it’s amazing because the beat actually sounds good - He’d be reluctant to ask for your help so he just whispers it and hopes you’ll hear - “Can you get me some water?” “Huh? What did you say?” And then he’d just shake his head - Sniffles a lot

[very-cherry]

Hey. Hi. Big fan. I don't watch half of the shows that you reblog, but your enthusiasm is quality. Um.. this is super personal, so I totally understand if you don't answer, but how did you realise you were nb?

omg im so sorry you have sat through my tags for this long, buddy you deserve better lmao. but no this is super okay to talk about, and ya its personal but im alright with it bc sometimes its nice to talk about?? like its a lot easier to explain over here rather than to my family (rip) but yeah i can get into it. um, itll be under the cut tho bc its a long answer, so if my other followers (or people who may get triggered) dont wanna read like ya theres that

the short answer: i realised last year, bc of everything that piled up and me finally finding the time to sit down and Think About It.

(tl;dr: at the bottom if youre not here for the Super Long answer)

the long answer: gender had never come easily to me as a kid, like i understood that girls played with dolls and that boys played with trucks. but i also was raised in a family where girls could play with trucks too, as long as they still looked like girls. so from the get go i had a v “tomboyish” look about me, and how i presented myself. i found i was v comfy with the tomboy label growing up, bc it meant i could play with the boys but still be sensitive and emotional while the boys werent allowed to feel like that

my biggest stepping stone tbh was (is) my mother. now if youve followed me for a while you probably know that while my mother loves me, and i suppose i love her (still up in the air), our relationship is v v v v Tense. this is due mostly to the fact that she has this preconceived notion of what the world looks like, and how people should act and present themselves. for her, to have me as a child saying “i wanna dress like a boy” “i wanna be a boy” was no biggie bc i was Just A Kid and would grow up to flourish into a beautiful young woman. which, for the most part, i did. but that doesnt mean i enjoyed it. from the age i was allowed to dress myself, my mother and i would fight about my clothing choices (and i literally mean fight. she would refuse to take me somewhere if i didnt dress the way she wanted. would throw my own clothes at me or on the road outside our house etc) and she would dub my clothes “too casual” and tell me to “dress up” and “look a bit more girly, please?” which i now know is totally Gross and not v nice, but at the time i didnt know any better, i hadnt grown into myself. this, alongside many years of condemnation in regards to my interests and hobbies and things i just enjoyed and wanted to talk about, just Didnt Add Up to my mother. she loved having two pretty daughters, pretty daughters who could wear dresses and live out the life she couldnt bc she fell pregnant with my older sister at 19, and thus had to grow up v quickly (no blame on my sister tho, shes my favourite person in the world and shes trying v hard to understand me and loves me v much)

fast forward a couple years: i was 15 when i first developed my eating disorder. quite frankly, it was only upon realising that im nb as to how i figured out what my ed was Actually About. i didnt like my curves. i didnt like being “girly”. i did constant misguided ab workouts and ate three rice cakes for lunch, followed by nothing but a banana until dinner. my sleep patterns were hit and miss bc i would either write away the pain or stay up wondering what this Thing i was feeling was (spoiler: it was dysphoria). i tried super hard to love my curves, to own myself and how i looked, but it never felt Right. i never understood. i would see my psychologist and ramble about my ed and she would pinpoint it and say it was curves and i would always just say “but its not”. bc it wasnt Just Curves, it was the idea as a whole. and it was v confusing and scary, so much like my exploration into my sexuality, i just put it off.

it was combating my ed that helped me most, i think. it was getting over it, and forcing myself back into a natural sleep pattern (so i could actually do year 12 without wrecking myself). i didnt get over it until around april 2016, which was when i fell in love with the idea of self love, and decided to give it a go. i listened to my psychologist, and she was v patient with me, and was cautious with where i placed my blame (”yes its your mothers fault for making you react and feel this way, her words hurt you. but youre the one that decides what to do with that negativity”) and it was so so so helpful. she taught me that i was deserving of love, and positivity, and that loving youself is a process, and it doesnt always work the way you want it to, but you need to find what makes you happy and keep doing that. for me, that tied into my food, my talents, my friends, and my actions. im not going to sit here and claim that fitness is key to happiness, but its part of whats key to mine (to the point that i have been inspired to become a personal trainer and teach other people that being “healthy” isnt just about food and exercise). each person has their own individual things that keep them balanced, and if yours is painting your nails instead of doing sit ups fucking go for it - just make sure you find that thing, because it gives you clarity.

my clarity hit me in the beginning of year 12, when i Sat Down and really had a think. i thought back to how i wanted to look growing up, how i wanted to act, i remembered the day i first had a proper bra bought for me instead of a crop top and the way i cried for hours that night without knowing why. i remember not wearing shirts to bed and then suddenly feeling awful when i started having to. i remembered trying to wear boxer shorts and nothing else around the house and being yelled at. i remembered telling my dad i wanted to look how he did when he was 18, and yelling at him when he said “but dont you want to be pretty like your mum”. i remembered my sister cutting my hair in the dead of night in her bedroom, bc i didnt want to look the way i did. i remembered wearing all these oversized clothes to hide my chest. being uncomfortable when anyone (family or stranger) would say “lady”, “girl”, “miss”, “female”. shrinking into myself when someone pointed out my curves. looking in thw mirror and only smiling when my hands were covering and pushing my chest. looking at the scale and not seeing anything other than a number that meant i was stuck being curved. refusing to go swimming bc it meant having to wear a bikini instead of just board shorts. wanting to play on the mens basketball team, wearing mens clothes, being mad when i suddenly couldnt wear them anymore. overcompensating by wearing midriffs and muscle shirts and short shorts and lacy underwear to impress my boyfriend(s) bc i was their GIRLfriend and this is what I Needed To Do. wearing clothes around my first girlfriend that i was really comfortable in, and her telling me that im still nb even if i have to wear a bra for now, and that she wouldnt ever take my shirt off or act as if my chest ever existed if thats what would keep me comfortable, and me nearly crying bc of how validating and overwhelming it was.

it all hit me at once, and i was struck with the blatant honesty of what this had been all along. id ignored it and shoved it down bc i didnt want to upset my mother, disappoint her. i didnt want to be what she never wanted. but then i remembered that i am deserving of love, even if its only ever from myself. 

so i told my best friend, and she was so wonderful with it, and she asked what pronouns i wanted to use from now on, and she helped me ease into shopping for clothes. and i bought a binder, and it fits v well and i fucking love it. and i told my other friends, and all the ones who matter are v supportive and beautiful (one even offered to make me a suit). and i told my two favourite cousins, and my sister, and they make sure to text me that i should stretch when i wear my binder, or to take deep breaths in case i forget to and its v homey and nice and they want me to be happy. and i blurted it out to my mother and she fucking hates it, and shes threatened to “burn” my binder if she ever sees it, to “rip it off [my] body” if i ever wear it in front of her, that she wants “nothing to do with It” and that “its a fucked up idea” someone has “put into my head”. but you know what? thats okay, bc i Know who i am now. and sometimes things dont always go how you want, and sometimes the people who love you most cant love all of you, and i want you guys to know that if that ever happens, youre not obligated to love them back, okay? love yourself, love those who love All Of You.

tl;dr: years of dysphoria piled onto me when i had a hot ten minutes to fully think about it in between classes.

[sumergosuigeneris]

February 28, 2019 Part II

After all the years I’ve been in the work force, I still don’t know how to properly signal to someone that I don’t have time (or the inclination) for chitchat. I feel like I always come up brusque or rude or whatever. In this case, it’s someone who is a very chatty person, so if I see her I know she’s going to try to have a whole convo with me, work-related or not, regardless of my busyness-looking or not. I shouldn’t have made eye contact to begin with.

Payday. I really want to go out for lunch, even though I bought a ramen noodle cup last night. I did it. Got a med-type salad. Not as healthy as you’d think, but also extra expensive. Still, it was yummy.

It’s been so cold for so long that my face has these dry patches that dry up again immediately after putting on lotion. Not gonna lie, I could always drink more water.

Doctor Who and the two species that make up Jadzia Dax, et al have a lot in common.

At this going-away party. DeputyDog brings in one of his kids. She’s shy. I invite her to play foosball. And somehow end up the only person not playing. This is me to a tee.

The meeting with DD was fine. So fucking weird. He tells me this whole story about he’s frustrated b/c he wants to move - better (free) schools, more fun things to do - but his wife doesn’t want to commute. I totally get where they are both coming from. Then he talks about trying to get both his kids in a fancy private school (one is, one wasn’t), and how now that the second one got accepted, they can’t move. So fucking confusing. I thought they were literally, right now, debating moving, but apparently this all happened a while ago?? I don’t know. Then, we did some other work stuff. I don’t know. He’s confusing as fuck.

Anyway, it’s nice. A bunch of people kept asking me if I was going to this party thing. If they had been that welcoming when I first started.....I managed to converse a bit, even with people I strongly dislike. Chatty coworker might be ticked with me.

I’m exhausted. Even though I wasn’t the productive I needed to be, I was still productive. Picked up my prescriptions. I remembered to double-check them, which I would have done even without idiot working, but idiot was working. They still refilled them wrong! Their system doesn’t even flag that they double-filled the prescription they filled the other day - I would have had THREE bottles of the same pill (different strengths).Have to give idiot some credit. I still get confused over the different names for the same med, plus this med vs. the anxiety one, so he caught that they were the same pill. Got gas. Put air in my tires. I returned my late library book. Went to the grocery store. Remembered cat food. Bought a new wallet. Bought a new saute pan. Bought the potato chips my cancercoworker friend likes.

At work, I finished a stupid course for pm. Mostly didn’t pay attention bc it’s about a software package, and I think I need to practice that later. It was an almost 6 hr course, so it took a while. I also read a couple articles. What gets me is people thinking that people with anxiety or depression or whatever just need to get up and confront things, or they have these tricks, and I’m always amazed - you don’t think we try those fucking tricks ourselves? Before we even get bad? Like telling yourself you can get through something if you only can just get started. Or that you’ve done it before, you can do it again. Like no shit. That’s the problem - we’ve done it before, we’ve overcome before, and we’re still frightened and immobilized!

Feeling pretty lonely. Been thinking for a week or so about contacting a few people. But I have no desire to converse at all.

Tried to log in to my apartment account so I could see if I got my insurance refunds. I never signed up? But it won’t let me sign up - says incorrect email address??? So I thought, maybe I did already sign up. Checked- incorrect email address. Will have to talk to rental manager tomorrow.

Also, I ‘bought’ my bar crawl ticket.

And while cooking a fake-ass chicken soup, I did a little cleaning/looking for that damn birth control.

I’ve never understood why I wasn’t in the gifted group (a small group that would be pulled out for extra stuff) until I was in middle school. I was just as smart, capable, and accomplished as them in middle school and high school (putting my great life failures aside). Was it because I’m latina? There were a couple (at least one, my memory is foggy) black kids, so that doesn’t seem likely. Was it because there was a number limit, and they ranked me just after the cutoff? Was it because neither my mother nor anyone else advocated for me? Was it because of my social awkwardness? Was it because I really didn’t reach ‘gifted’ potential until middle school? I know my test scores improved from elementary to middle school. We didn’t really get tested in hs. I did end up being a national hispanic scholar runner up, so I did well on the psat. I think I might have done better if I had known the PSAT was more significant than just being practice for the SAT. I know they only counted the first time for those things. I can’t remember if it was the same for the SAT. I couldn’t afford to take it a second time, but maybe I could have done better and been a national merit scholar if the second time counted.

Anyway, I was embarrassingly attached to my teachers all through elementary and middle school. I am still filled with shame/embarrassment on my behalf. And I was embarrassed at the time but couldn’t stop myself. Or keep my secrets lol. I’m not the best at keeping my secrets now, but I’m better than childhood. I remember wondering even as a kid why they were soooo important to me. At the time, I didn’t really think things were that bad with my mother (it started in 8th grade as I recall), and certainly as a tiny tot she was my best friend.

The other thing, among a bazillion others, that I still wonder about. My fav in middle school, we were pretty tight, at the graduation dance called me a femme fatale. She assumed I knew what it meant. I looked it up after, and it’s (to the extent I investigated which was eh) sexual. So maybe she was misusing it?

Ugh childhood.

Looking forward to Got. Wondering how it will end. Hoping the characters who don’t deserve to be screwed over get satisfying endings.

Brown rice man. I don’t get it, and am not the biggest fan. I like it best when someone else is preparing it. Not sure what I do wrong. I added a bunch to the ‘soup’ I was making, and let it sit to cool down. When I went back to it, the rice had sucked up most of the liquid. So...the remainder tomorrow will be interesting.

I love how in 30rock, all the characters are kind of terrible. Liz’ family is very sketch, if the intimations of nazism are true. And Jack, the thing I was thinking is, Jack is actually a romantic. Always willing to give up everything for his love du jour. And it cracks me up that he spends all his tv time with their show, and not the dozens of other shows. Jane K is so talented and should have a bigger career than she does.