#nct dream hanahaki au

[gimmehyuck]

lungs like a garden series

✿ series synopsis.

hanahaki.

the disease everyone has heard of.

the one that doctors only know how to treat by one surgery or one returned confession.

no other cure.

everyone has heard of it. but what’s less spoken of… is how it feels to simultaneously be both in love and in pain.

the question is in the end… will it always be worth it?

✿ genres. strangers to lovers // friends to lovers // enemies to lovers // friends to lovers

✿ warnings. angst // fluff // possible? smut? // mentions of dying/death // sickness // vomiting (of flowers) // tags will be more detailed for each story, these are the general ones for all // synopsis of each story may change/evolve as i continue to write them lol

✿ something to note: each story is connected but can be read alone!

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✿ to drown in you | n.jm (coming soon)

“i’m… i’m scared.”

“don’t worry, i’ve got you. nothing will happen if i’m here.”

✿ summary. jaemin didn’t think twice about diving in to the water to save you, you needed his help (but couldn’t ask).

he also didn’t think twice about the befriending you and helping you out of a tough situation, you wanted his help (but wouldn’t ask).

and he definitely didn’t think twice about falling in love with you, he didn’t need any help in doing so (but he should’ve asked, it would have made things easier).

✿ pairing. swimmer!jaemin x yn

✿ words. est 10k+

✿ genre. strangers to lovers… or is it?

✿ warnings. angst!!!, fluff!!!, mentions of dying/death, vomiting (of flowers), yn is in a toxic relationship at the beginning, eventual smut, more to come as i write

✿ patient progress: symptomatic

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✿ denialism at its finest | l.jn

“i don’t think falling in love is all that bad.”

“i do, and i refuse to do it.”

✿ summary. there were a lot of things that jeno was sure of. for example, he was sure that his schools hockey team would win the championship (not just because he was the captain). he was sure that he had a job to go to once he graduated (that he’d absolutely hate because it had nothing to do with his major). lastly, he was absolutely sure that he’d never fall in love, and he definitely wasn’t in love with you…

(reality hit him at the same time the petals hit his palm.)

✿ pairing. hockey player!jeno x yn

✿ words. tbd

✿ genre. maybe friends to ???

✿ warnings. angst, fluff, jeno is generally in denial, mentions of dying/death, mentions of vomiting (of flowers), divorced parents?? if that needs to be warned, more to come as i write

✿ patient progress: symptomatic

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✿ distance between us | l.ty

“what didn’t you realize until now?”

“how much it hurts to love you.”

✿ summary. taeyong was oblivious, he had to be (or so you thought). there was simply no way he had to know how you felt about him (could he..?). and for a long while, you were content feeling the butterflies in the pit of your stomach (the feeling made you giddy). but then the butterflies changed into petals… and the petals changed the meaning of it entirely (the feeling made you sick).

your innocent crush, what you thought were simple feelings… it had changed somehow.

(and it hurt.)

✿ pairing. brothers best friend?taeyong x yn

✿ words. tbd

✿ genre. friends to ???

✿ warnings. fluff?, angst!!, minor age gap (not by much), taeyong is a bit… what’s the word… he leads yn on kinda?, vomiting (of flowers), mentions of blood (it’s roses what do you expect), more to come as i write

✿ patient progress: symptomatic

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✿ biology of love | q.kn

“why do you push people away like that? it’s cruel.”

“what’s truly cruel is when they leave.”

✿ summary. kun knew how to be friendly, he swore he did (you can ask anyone). he was friendly to everyone who worked on his floor, (maybe a little distant but never unkind). he was well liked but his friend circle was limited, (he didn’t mind that). until you came along, someone who seemed to hate his very existence; you were the new doctor on the floor, he had been a nurse working there for two years (seniority counts somehow, right?).

he truly didn’t care if you had friends or not, or if you were just always miserable, he couldn’t care less… (but then why did seeing you slowly getting sick bother him?)

✿ pairing. nurse!kun x doctor!yn

✿ words. tbd

✿ genre. enemies to lovers… possibly?

✿ warnings. angst, fluff, age gap (a bit more than a couple years), mentions of death/dying, mentions of vomiting (of flowers), discussions of what comes next and the existential crisis that follows, yn is Cold because Sad (that she says is ambition)™, possible? smut?, more to come as i write

✿ patient progress: symptomatic

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✿ falling for the sun (you) | l.dh

“why are you acting this way?”

“i’ve realized i’m like icarus. i’ve loved the sun’s warmth so much, but now it’s only killing me.”

✿ summary. you can pinpoint the moment you wanted to study psychology as a career to the moment you walked into your high school class (thanks to your best friend that agreed to go to the same university as you). you can pinpoint the moment your life’s trajectory changed to the exact moment you met lee donghyuck, (you blamed it entirely on mark). you can even pinpoint where your major mistake in all this started (it was the moment you moved in).

what you couldn’t pinpoint, no matter how hard you tried, was the moment you officially fell in love with him (you only really found out after the first yellow petal appeared… and then you knew you were fucked).

✿ pairing. roommate!donghyuck x yn

✿ words. tbd

✿ genre. best friend/roommates to ???

✿ warnings. angst!!!, fluff!!!, hyuck and yn argue a bit, hyuck is kind of a player??, mentions of death/dying, mentions of vomiting (of flowers), mentions of blood and choking (sunflowers are huge okay), eventual smut, more to come as i write

✿ patient progress: symptomatic

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tag list: @byungbyungbaek @ficrecnctskz @shwizhies

[tiredatiny]

-Masterlist

NCT

Taeyong

Concrete jungle where dreams are made of

Taeyong has been trying to get help to defeat the newly formed gang but no one seems to be willing to help him.. except Chinatown’s most powerful gang’s leader | angst, enemies to lovers, gang au, slowburnish

Yuta

The Devil Himself

Yuta is found sneaking in your territory and when he's brought to you, you decide to punish him in a cruel but thrilling way | smut, gang au

Mark

Beautiful Flower

Mark has been avoiding falling in love because of the Hanahaki disease. Little does he know that the fear of his will be the reason for someone’s death | angst, hanahaki au, college au, friends to crushes(?)

ATEEZ

San

Don't Worry

San surprises his idol boyfriend aka you on your last comeback stage. When seeing the accident happen, he only hopes you're fine | angst, fluff if you squint

Stray Kids

Felix

Deep Sea one two three

When you end up getting captured by pirates, the last thing you expect to happen is having to safe one of them from drowning. The pirate, Felix falls in love with you, but he's a human and you're a merman | pirate au, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers

[dreamiesdotcom]

february spring | h.rj

genre: hanahaki!au, angst, fluff

trigger warning: character death

summary: You wonder what he'll do when he realizes you no longer cough petals, but flowers in full bloom — that inside you is a full blown spring, within a body that exists in winter.

word count: 2.7k

The thing about flowers is that they suck.

Today again you wake up coughing petals and blood, feeling like wanting to burn the world and then your damned feelings — but no, you think, you'd rather not have life at all if you're not in love with him. You'd choose him again and again if asked.

That's the stupid thing about it. You're so willing to hurt and to be hurt for love that made flowers grow inside you.

Your mom is crying at the foot of your bed, praying for it all to be gone; the petals, the blood, the disease you have to fight because you fell for the wrong person. Your dad turned around to face the wall, tears in his eyes. He wants you to be better. He needs you to be better, and he needs to be strong so you could fight.

It's useless, anyway.

"This could end in three ways," you remember your doctor saying. "Either he loves you back, you take the surgery, or you die."

And you know what that means? That no amount of strength, of happiness, will keep you alive. It's impossible for him to love you back. You're dying. There's flowers growing inside you and you're dying — dying in the most beautiful way; dying of love.

Of stupid love, but you disregard that.

"Mom," you call. "I don't want the surgery."

"You want to die?" She asks with a laugh, "You want to die for a boy who doesn't even know of your love?"

"Y/N," your dad calls, a warning.

"Please don't make me go through it," you close your eyes. "I don't want to forget him. I don't want to forget love."

Because it's all I have, you wanted to say. Love is the one thing worth having, and you can't imagine yourself after the surgery; you'll get your emotions removed alongside the flowers in both your lungs and heart. You can't imagine that.

It's not even about him anymore. It's—

"Mom, please," you beg, "I don't... I don't want to live in a world where I wouldn't be able to live and love. I don't want to live not loving you and dad."

Because what is a human without love, emotions? An empty vessel. A withering rose. Something to stare at emptily as slowly, they begin to die.

Tears well in your mother's eyes, shaking her head, repeating the same words again and again — "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him" — but you made up your mind. You're dying, but before that you're gonna live —

you're gonna live, and this time not for him anymore; for yourself. For yourself too.

Even though life with this disease is limited to this hospital, the window and the rooftop, it is life still — this sickness made you cherish all the little things you'll lose when your body loses warmth. On some days you play with the kids, young hearts running around not really understanding their situations.

You put a smile on your face after everytime you throw up — you hide away somewhere no one would see, you hide yourself. You want to live. If you want to live, there's no need to be pitied.

At night, before you need to go to your room, you go to the rooftop and meet with a friend; Huang Renjun, same case. His heart longs for the stars, the moon, and a boy who is and will always be happier with someone else.

Tonight again, you stargaze.

"Imagine what we'll be if we weren't like this," he wonders out loud, "You'd still be annoying."

You kick his foot lightly, making him laugh, "See? You're sick and annoying. If you weren't sick, you'd be even more annoying!"

You turn to face him, and a fond smile is on his face, "You'd be beautiful still, even more without the tiredness in your eyes."

"And you'd still be handsome, Renjun," you find yourself saying, "You'd still love books and poetry, and stars..."

"But your smile wouldn't be so sad," he continues, pointing to Sirius, tracing the entire constellation as if the stars are right before his fingertips. "Your smile would be open and honest, not just something to comfort me."

You smile wistfully. He rolls around to pin you down, his hands on your wrists, a smile of his own on his face. It's something silly, kind of cheeky — typical Renjun.

"You're my only friend, Y/N," he confesses. "And I hate him. I hate the boy who made you sick."

Tears start to fall from his eyes, leaving him shaking. His arms still pin you to the ground, his tears falling on your face. He sobs. He sobs and sobs and my god, he still looks beautiful — Sirius rests on the space where his neck and shoulders meet. Galaxies are in his eyes.

He looked beautiful, so beautiful that you didn't have the heart to tell him that it's him. There's no other boy but him.

###

I wonder when he'll notice...

February cold engulfs you in its hold, making you shiver. Renjun walks beside you. It's a silent trip to the rooftop, snow falling in beautiful flakes. He takes notice in your silence.

I wonder when he'll ask if I love him...

"Are you okay?" Renjun asks, shoulder brushing against yours.

You smile at him, "I'm fine. I'm just a little cold."

Time is running out...

"Renjun," you call out his name, "Do you think you could ever fall in love with me?"

He looks at you as if you said something absurd. He laughed, he laughed until he coughed blood and petals — you stop in panic, rubbing his back.

"I think the cold is doing us no good," you say. "Let's head inside."

Was it really that impossible for you to fall in love with me?

"No, no, I'm fine." He wipes the blood off his lips, "See?"

Scary as it seems, the petals have become usual visitors for patient with Hanahaki. It doesn't even bother Renjun anymore at this point.

He'll have the surgery and get better — just a little more, he said, let me feel this love for a little more, because after the surgery I know I never will love again.

The petals don't shake him anymore. There's a cure, after all. A cure you keep denying yourself.

"Alright, let's go."

You resume walking, looking straight ahead. The sun is setting as a white sunset.

You wonder what he'll do when he realizes you no longer cough petals, but flowers in full bloom — that inside you is a full blown spring, within a body that exists in winter.

###

"Happy Birthday to you~ happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, happy birthday..."

You look at Renjun's room, meeting gazes with Lee Jeno. You smile and look away.

Renjun has told you the story of three best friends.

Jaemin and Jeno are his regular visitors. Whenever they come, there's a spark in Renjun's eyes — the glint of sadness, the look of yearning for love like theirs. You know. You pass by his door everytime.

You know, too, that he's still in love with Na Jaemin.

Whenever they come by, they bring him flowers — you laugh, because Renjun has enough of those blooming inside him. They bring him food to eat, bring him gifts, but there's no love for him in that space. Jaemin and Jeno's love are solely for each other, and Renjun wants that selfishness too; he wants Jaemin's love all to himself. It's what planted those seeds.

Whenever they come, Renjun wallows in envy and self pity and sadness, sadness because it breaks his heart that seeing them both so happy hurts him. Whenever they come, you battle yourself to not yell at them and make them leave and tell them they're not of any help, not helping him feel better — Renjun's life is just as limited as yours. He has counted seconds and all they do is make him realize what a fool he was to fall for someone he'll never have.

Whenever they leave, they leave a hole in his heart — it only grows bigger and bigger with every visit, with every goodbye. Renjun must be a fool.

But he'll have it, the surgery. He wants to live that much, that even though it will be impossible for him to feel love, he'll still search for happiness.

And that's how you know it.

You're dying.

In silence, you break down and whisper your greetings: Happy birthday, Renjun.

###

Renjun sits across you, holding the flowers Na Jaemin has given him. He plucks them once — he loves me. The sun is hidden away by the clouds, and his gaze that once were on you flutters across the room, back to where Jaemin stands. He plucks another petal — he loves me not.

Jaemin looks back to your direction, and waves. You're sure it made Renjun's heart flutter.

"You're the infamous Y/N," Jaemin grins. "I hope we can be good friends."

"Before I die, that is," you joke, earning a smack from Renjun. The stem of the flower hits the back of your head.

He loves me.

"Jaemin, where's Jeno?" Renjun asks, curious. There's no sight of honey haired boy and it's a strange sight, but you know deep inside he is pleased.

He loves me not.

"He's busy today."

"As he is every day?"

"C'mon, Renjun," Jaemin laughs. "It's not like he never gives me time."

Renjun shakes his head anyway. He releases a big sigh, calming himself down — deep inside he knows he can love Jaemin better. A pained look flashes in your eyes.

Renjun taps your thigh in concern.

He loves me.

"I need to go, 'jun," Jaemin says, taking his belongings with him. He runs straight to the door, but before that he turns around and waves.

When Jaemin leaves the room, Renjun looks like he just fell in love. Again.

A bitter smile draws on your face.

He loves me not.

###

The day of Renjun's surgery came quicker than expected. The explanation was simple; he can never feel love again, but he will survive. He will be alive and that's what matters.

It's a sad thought, living without love. But Renjun would rather not love than not live at all.

"It's tomorrow," he said. "You should take care."

You don't meet his gaze.

"I'm tired, Renjun," you whisper, clutching his shirt to pull him impossibly closer.

A smile draws on his face, a beautiful sight to look at.

He asks, "Tired of what?"

And you've been tired of a lot of things. You tried not being so, but you can't help but fail miserably — lately everything's just been too much. Most of them, though; thoughts like this, like the truth that spills from your mouth.

"Of the flowers growing inside me," you say wistfully, "I'm tired of it and I hate it. I hate it so much."

"Y/N..."

"And I'm tired of you too, of you looking at me with those eyes," you turn to face Renjun who sits with his head hung low. You let a chuckle escape your lips, "Those eyes that look at me as if you could love me had you not met Jaemin."

Renjun couldn't say a word.

You feel yourself withering away as more flowers bloom inside you.

###

Renjun left right after he recovered from the surgery, the nurses said. You stay in your bed all those time, not bidding him goodbye at all. You throw up more flowers than usual, more blood.

All the promises you made about living life before you die is gone. All you can think about is how difficult it is to breathe, how hard it is to live.

"Mom," you call, hoping for ease, "I want to give up."

But she smiles with tears in her eyes, she smiles. You see, she had the most beautiful smile in the world. Her eyes are brimming with unshed tears and her lips stretched in a pitiful expression, "No, darling," she begs. "Stay awake. Stay awake for me."

You smile back.

"It hurts to breathe."

"It will be okay," at least she prays. "It's gonna be okay. Go through with the surgery."

You shake your head, declining still. Time is running out. Your father hugs you tight, the first time in years, a kiss pressed on your temple. Your mother holds your hand.

I don't want to, you repeat again and again.

Your father holds your hand — "We'll do what you want."

And there's a protest at the tip of your mother's tongue, but it melts away at the sight of tears falling from your eyes.

"Okay, sweetie," she says. "We'll do what you want."

Your doctor comes in a hurry minutes after. He's panting, a red flush on his face — he seems mad. "How long has it been?"

"Doctor..."

"You didn't tell us you were coughing out whole flowers."

Your mother's cries start to get louder. Full flowers meant the last stage: the closest to death. At this point it's a game between life and death and the dangers in between. You smile.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "But I'm not going through the surgery, doctor."

They look at you with eyes of pity, saddened that it has come to this. Your doctor nods. Your mother shakes in your father's hold. You laugh, "Why are you all crying?"

"Stupid child," your mother says. "Stupid Y/N."

You laugh harder, tears falling from your eyes. "I love you, mom," you say. "Can you hold my hand tighter? I'm scared."

From outside your door, Renjun clamps his hand over his mouth; he feels like throwing up. He originally planned to say one last goodbye, but instead, he gets this... this. Whatever the hell this mess is.

You're dying, all because you're in love with him.

All because he couldn't love you back.

###

The time comes quicker than expected.

You look at your body, watching from your soul — this must be what it is like to be have your soul wandering. You breathe in sharply, breathe out. You look at all the tubes connected to your body.

You go through the wall, moving to hug your parents. Your mother must've felt you, for her sobs grew louder and she called your name.

Suddenly, someone storms in.

"Doctor, it seems like you have an emergency patient," the nurse intervenes.

"Who's the patient?"

"Huang Renjun."

Your feel your heart drop — who knew you could still feel such things? But Renjun, didn't he...

"Renjun? Didn't he have a successful surgery?"

"Yes," the nurse looks down in shame, "But it seems there's remains of flowers in his lungs. He's now coughing out flowers in full-bloom."

The doctor rushes out of the room, saying excuses to your parents. You watch your own body breathe its last breath.

The nurse looks down, "Y/L/N Y/N, time of death, 10:48 a.m."

You wander around the hospital, going to where your feet take you. You soon find yourself in the emergency room, watching Renjun almost pass out from coughing flowers.

"Renjun," you call — the ghost of you, your soul. The one Renjun sees.

He looks in panic, knowing why he's seeing you; he's ready to die. What he's not ready for is to see you as a soul, dead and eternally young.

He blinks once, twice, hoping you don't disappear. It's not all truthful words, but he says it — "I love you."

Outside the room, Renjun's parents wonder to themselves — who is he talking to? What is he mumbling? His parents can't help but cry, worried at every flutter of his eyes.

"They say... when people are almost dying, their closest family visit them to take them to paradise." Jaemin says with a bitter smile, "I heard... Y/N passed. He might be seeing her."

A slap sounds in the room.

"My son is not dying!" Renjun's mother says. Jaemin nods, tears falling from his eyes.

"Are you scared?" you ask, head tilted, hands brushing strands of his hair away from his face.

"Yes," Renjun confesses.

"I'll hold your hand."

"Until it's over?"

You smile, "You're one of my greatest friend, after all."

Renjun never expected to die. Then, at the same time, he never expected the tiny sliver of love he feels for you — love for a friend, for a dear one. Renjun found a real best friend within you.

So, he holds your hands and comes with you.

"Doctor? Doctor, what's happening— my son!" His mother calls as he watches his eyelids close, "Renjun... My little boy..."

One last smile, one last cough of his favorite flower — Renjun is at peace. He closes his eyes and remains his age forever.

"Huang Renjun, time of death, 10:52 a.m."

[kiwisol]

hydrangeas: l.mk

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: hanahaki au, angst

warnings: character death

wc: 641

“Wait hold on, it’s raining!” you said. “I’ll be back!”

He watched you tug your sweater on, messing up your hair in the process. You swung his front door open and ran out into the front yard, watching the rain fall as if it was the first time it had come down in years. Mark trailed after you but opted to watch from the door frame, his eyes watching your every move and smiling to himself as you laughed like a child. You stood still in the rainfall, face turned upward toward the sky and hands out in front of you to feel the water on your palms.

Was it strange to be jealous of raindrops? The way they kissed your soft cheeks and ran down your neck, eliciting a loud laugh from you at the sensation of the cool water. They stained and spotted your grey sweatshirt, the same way blue petals always found themselves spotted around on his bedroom floor and sink.

Mark could never be as close to you as those raindrops, could never leave sweet kisses on your skin; it made his stomach churn in pain. He coughed uncomfortably, turning to the side to avoid your gaze.

“Mark?” you called out, a worried look on your face.

He ignored you and walked off to the bathroom quickly, trying to avoid spitting up the flowers in front of you. He leaned over the sink, trying to ignore the painful feeling in his stomach and lungs until he couldn’t take it anymore. He wheezed as if he couldn’t breathe, spitting out petals after petals until he could catch his breath. They flooded out of the sink and onto the white tiled floor, making him squeeze his eyes shut.

This was the worst it had ever been.

He thought back to the first time he saw those flowers, it was your first time coming over and you carried a bunch of them in your hands. You offered them to him, saying it was a small gift for his home.

“These are my favorite,” you explained shyly, placing them onto his open hands.

As soon as he had set them in a vase, he felt an unfamiliar flutter in his stomach and an uncomfortable sensation in his throat.

He could never be mad at you, or those flowers. He was grateful he could carry a piece of you everywhere he went.

Opening his eyes, he looked into the mirror and stared at himself. His skin had gotten paler, and he had long forgotten about the fact you were outside until you called out to him shakily.

“Mark? Are those...” you trailed off, walking into the bathroom slowly.

He nodded, staring down at his feet.

“I didnt… please,” you said breathlessly. “Mark, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head in response, taking a seat against the bathtub before his legs gave out on him.

“Why are you sorry? You’ve given me the best year of my life.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s not supposed to be like this,” you whispered, kneeling down on the floor to sit next to him.

You were crying now, a combination of tears and raindrops from your hair running down your cheeks. You tried wiping them away but you just cried harder, knowing what was going to happen.

“Don’t cry. I’ve grown to love these flowers.” He smiled weakly, his cold thumb wiping away your tears.

“I can change this. I can make it right,” you pleaded, your hands grabbing onto his tightly.

Mark smiled softly at you and his eyes grew heavy. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead, the familiar feeling of flower petals moving around wildly in his stomach making itself known.

“Doesn’t matter the lifetime,” he whispered, his eyes slowly closing. “I’d love you even if it meant coughing up these flowers forever.”

© 2021 fullsunfluff — all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

[perfeggso]

till the sun’s seeing through my eyes (yumark)

ace me out 

Yuta and Mark are next-door neighbors who grew up together, joined at the hip until Yuta went off to college. Due to their four-year age gap, Mark's freshman year at the same school marks the halfway point of an unprecedented amount of time apart. Yuta is sure he can handle it, until Mark's arrival home for spring break makes him wonder if the fondness he has for his friend might be blooming quite literally into something stronger. It's up to him to handle the consequences.

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Masterlist 

Characters: Yuta x Mark + NCT ensemble, other SM (and non-SM (?)) idols tbd

Genres: heavy angst, fluff, Hanahaki!AU, small town!AU, slight Witchcraft/Magic!AU, College!AU

Warnings: blood and gore, mentions of death, disease, vomiting, college-typical alcohol use, swearing  

Rating: T

Length: 5.8k 

“Sunny,” Yuta reckoned, was the word most often used to describe both him and Mark – if in profoundly different ways.  Yuta’s favorite season was summer, so it followed that he should be like the summer sun: bright, intense, and all-consuming.  Mark, on the other hand, favored fall, and sometimes reminded Yuta of early autumn sunshine: soft in its glow, yet surprisingly bold.

It wasn’t summer when Yuta started feeling shortness of breath for the first time; it wasn’t fall, either.  It was in early March, during the part of spring where no one can agree if the world still feels like winter or if it’s beginning to thaw.  The thaw was usually something Yuta savored; the slow sensation of sunshine gingerly gracing his skin for the first time in months.  Sure, the winter sun was a welcome reprieve from the town’s usual snow and rain-induced gloom, but even when it came out, Yuta had a hard time feeling it.  It was the difference between being touched by bare hands and being touched through gloves.  Early March was when that transition usually occurred, along with the first appearances of crocuses and daffodils in Yuta’s garden, and he had always relished it; relished the lead-up to his favorite season and how that seemed to elongate it.  Since last year though, Yuta wasn’t sure what he thought about spring anymore – if he could still trust it.  It was almost exactly a year ago after all – last March – that Yukhei had nearly let himself die of hanahaki.

No, the first time Yuta felt an unusual shortness of breath was after soccer practice on March 6th, the day Mark Lee came home for spring break.  The sun was peeking through the clouds and glittering off the distant coast as Yuta kicked the ball around with Kun, who’d met up with him in the park off Main Street once Yuta’d finished running the local junior high soccer team through some drills.  Yuta had played intramurally while studying anthropology at the college a half hour away, as well as participating in several dance troops, and since he was only a year out of school, he still considered himself a relatively fit person, even if he was known to gorge on the Seo family’s matcha and azuki bean muffins until he could barely walk.  That’s why he found it so odd when he ran for the ball, which Kun had kicked particularly hard and far, and felt like the air was being yanked from his lungs like a chair being pulled from under him.

He kicked it back, his body flailing wildly, and collected himself, hands on his knees and upper body heaving, bent over.  Maybe he was developing asthma, he thought.  He’d heard of that happening to people nearly at random and with no history of the ailment.  He would have to make himself something for that.

“You okay?” called Kun, stopping the ball quickly and jogging over to his friend.

“Yeah I’m good,” Yuta responded, peering up at Kun sideways and flashing him his most blinding grin.  “I just felt a little weird for a sec.”

Yuta gazed past Kun, noticing a figure moving on the edge of the field.  Was that –

“Mark?” he yelled, heaving one more time before allowing himself to return to standing.  Kun wheeled around, looking elated, and sure enough, the figure raised both arms in greeting, breaking into a run.

“I’m baaaaack!” said Mark.  Yuta thought he looked older, even, than he had over his winter break, wearing jeans and a brown herringbone bomber jacket, black hair parting down the middle to fall over a pair of round wire glasses.  He looked like a city boy for some reason, not a conservation major from the countryside.  Yuta practically tackled Mark in a hug, trying to absorb his friend’s smaller frame as Kun looked on in amusement.  A grey cloud floated overhead, obscuring the tentative sun and making Yuta shiver.  When he pulled away, he indulged in a look of performative hurt, unzipping his pocket and pulling his phone out just to confirm what he already suspected; sure enough, there were no notifications.

“How dare you, Mark Lee!” he accused, pointing his finger in Mark’s face and leaning forward so Mark felt the need to lean back in response.  “How could you not tell me you were coming home today?”

Mark broke into a body-racking fit of giggles.  “I’m not allowed to give you a nice surprise?”

Yuta huffed in lieu of an answer and pointed at Kun.  “Was he involved?”

“Mark texted me earlier and asked if I could find you and detain you for him,” Kun confirmed, and Yuta glared.

“Whatever.  Markie, you caught me so unprepared!  I hope you know I won’t forgive you.”  But that was a lie.  Yuta had already forgiven Mark the ambush, if it required forgiving at all, and Mark knew this because the moment he’d schooled his laughing (which was no small feat) he sighed through a tight-lipped smile, eyes so big under his glasses and full of familiar warmth.

“It’s good to see you too, man,” Mark said, adding, “and Kun also.  Thanks for being my co-conspirator.”

Now that he’d processed, Yuta realized how giddy he was.  His best friend was back for a few weeks and they could do whatever they wanted; make spring sweet like it used to be.  He shuffled a bit on his feet as his enthusiasm boiled over, pushing thoughts of asthma out.  He slung an arm over Mark’s neck and started walking towards the rest of town while Kun went to fetch the ball like the responsible person he’d always been.

“Ugh, why can’t you just graduate already?” Yuta whined to Mark.  “I mean we’ve already gone through this once when I was gone! It hasn’t even been a year yet and I’m already sick of you being away!”

Mark chuckled.  “Thanks?” he said.  “But you can always come visit me, dude, like you already have…”

Yuta shook his head, petulant.  There were moments he thanked his lucky stars that his friends put up with his shit, and this was one of them.  “Not the same,” he explained.  “Don’t like sharing.”

Mark spluttered.

“Anyway!” Yuta diverted when Kun rejoined them, “Do you want to come over to mine this evening so we can catch up?  Kun, you’re invited too of course along with the others, who I can shoot a text too although it might be a LITTLE LAST MINUTE, you know?  That could have been avoided, but alas.”  Yuta cleared his throat as his friends laughed indulgently.  “But yeah, I’m in the barn these days, so we can have a little shindig.  What do you say?”    

“That sounds awesome!” said Mark.  “Just gotta check with my parents, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

Yuta rolled his eyes and scoffed in mock disdain.  “Underclassmen…”

They emerged from the park onto Main Street and Kun excused himself to check on the coffeeshop, promising to be at Yuta’s whenever they decided the gathering would be.  Yuta turned to Mark.

“I have a couple errands I have to run in town before I go home, and then I need to get ready, so while I’m doing that you can go and make sure you have permission to be out after dark.”

Mark laughed, flustered.  That was one of the plethora of reasons he tended to laugh; the others ranging from fear to disgust to joy.  “Alright, Yuta,” he agreed.  “I’ll see you tonight.  Can’t wait to be back with the gang; well – minus Johnny, I guess.  Anyway, can I get another hug?”

Yuta grabbed Mark before the request had been fully uttered, rocking him back and forth and groaning in a way he thought only appropriate considering the tightness of his squeezing.

“Whatever you want, Markie,” Yuta teased before letting his friend go.  “See you tonight.”  And with that Mark was backing away down the street and towards their neighborhood, giving Yuta a dorky little salute when he’d gone far enough to warrant turning around.  Yuta shuddered as he watched Mark leave, the cool tinge of early spring evening setting in against his exposed arms.  It was already 4:30 and the previous sunshine was diffusing into a blue tint over everything in sight.  The shade reminded Yuta of the hour in summer when fireflies usually made their first appearances.  If only it were warmer.

On his way down Main, Yuta stopped into the herbalist’s before the shop closed, finding Kunhang manning it, himself home for break.  A little bell jingled as the door opened and shut and Kunhang lifted his head from where it had been settled lazily against the metal counter.

“Yuutaaa,” he called, “what do you need?”

“Hey Kunhang,” he greeted, “do you guys have any black seed?  I’m all out.”

Kunhang reached under his desk and rummaged around, emerging with an empty jar about the size of a single serving of yogurt.  “Sure thing,” he said, turning around and tracing his eyes and pointer finger over labels upon labels until he found the one for the product he was looking for.  “Here we go.  What’s it for?”

Yuta shrugged, fishing for his wallet.  “Just a little chest tightness.  Think I exercised too much today.  I’m an old man, you know.”

Kunhang turned back around, jar of black granules in hand, and placed it on a small metal scale.  “You’re the furthest thing from an old man I can think of, but alright.” He said, then named the price.  Yuta laughed at Kunhang’s comment and exchanged a few bills for his purchase, which Kunhang had packed for him in a lavender-colored paper bag folded over at the top.

“You close at five?” Yuta asked, loitering a few feet from the door. Kunhang nodded.  “Perfect.  You know Mark’s back?”

“I heard,” said Kunhang, settling his elbows back on the counter’s copper top.  “But I haven’t had time to see him yet.  I don’t think he knows I work here now.”

“Well, I’m trying to have a get-together tonight at my place to celebrate.  I’ll send out details soon I think.”

Kunhang looked pleasantly surprised.  “Oh! That’s awesome!” he said. “I’ll definitely be there.  Is it, like – what kind of get-together?”

Yuta chuckled and Kunhang’s expression hinted at embarrassment.  College kids…      

“It’ll be chill, but I’m cool with BYOB if you have something in mind.  I have a few herbal liqueurs I’ve been wanting a reason to break out, anyway.”

“Sweet,” said Kunhang.  “See you tonight, I guess.”

Yuta let himself out with a chiming of the bell.  “I hope so!”

Next stop was Taeyong’s flower shop.  Yuta steadied himself before crossing the street, breath hitching again strangely at his trachea.  He cleared his throat, trying to fight the mild jolt of terror it gave him not knowing what was wrong.  It was as if when he drew air into his lungs, a small fraction of it transformed into something else that he couldn’t breathe.  It was…strange; there was no other way of describing it.  He pitched forward a bit and forced himself to take a full breath to calm his nerves.  He’d been conditioned by his soccer coaches his whole life not to catch his breath in this position, but now that he was actually struggling, he found it was the only effective strategy.  Once he felt a bit better, he crossed the street and walked into the Lee family flower shop.

“Evening, good sir,” he said jovially upon entry.  Taeyong seemed to be in the process of tallying up the day’s total from the till.

“Yuta!” he said, looking from under his bangs. “What a surprise.  You need something or just stopping in to say hi?”

“Both,” Yuta answered, calm normalcy settling back into his brain as if he’d crushed it up and taken it in a little pill.  “I’m getting some flowers in Mark’s honor.  Have you seen him yet?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, setting down a handful of bills and rocking against the counter in front of him, “he stopped by earlier today.  Didn’t get to talk long though. He warned me not to text you anything about it.”  Taeyong smirked.  

Who else’d seen Mark before Yuta had?   He pushed his petulant thoughts aside.  “I’m having a little impromptu party in the loft tonight if you could be bothered.  Just to celebrate being reunited as a mostly group, you know – now that all the young’uns are back from break.”

Taeyong nodded.  “Sounds perfect.  Just tell me the details and I’ll be there.”

“Great.  In the meantime,” Yuta continued, “I’d like to acquire a bouquet to decorate; make it homier, I guess.  Also, I want it to be something Mark would like.”

Taeyong pursed his lips in thought and hummed.  “What about bluebell?” he asked.  “They just came into season and Mark likes blue.”

“Sounds good,” Yuta agreed as Taeyong cut a square of paper, scissors gliding with a satisfying crisp sound, folded it into a cone, and began arranging the bauble-like periwinkle blossoms inside it.

“Anything else you want in there?” asked Taeyong.  Yuta hadn’t come with a plan, so he found himself pondering his options uselessly.  That is, until a golden bundle of baby sunflowers caught his eye.

“Oh!” he said, pointing in their direction.  “Maybe a few of those; since I like them and because Mark brought the sunnier weather with him today.”

Taeyong smiled softly, plucking three of the blooms and situated them amongst the bluebell in the least awkward arrangement possible considering their vast difference in size.

Yuta nodded his approval.  “Looks good,” he remarked.  “By the way, where did you get them? It’s not really the season...”

“The sunflowers?” Taeyong asked, and Yuta nodded again.  Taeyong leaned over the counter and put a flattened hand on one side of his mouth like he had a particularly juicy secret.  Yuta leaned in too.  “I don’t know if you’ve heard but they have this very exciting new technology called a greenhouse.  It’s still part of a classified experiment, but you know, I figured I could trust you…”  Taeyong giggled at Yuta’s expense and at his own jest.

“Alright, whatever,” Yuta grumbled, reaching again for his wallet.  “stupid question.”

“What are you doing?” Taeyong shot at him.

“Paying you?” Yuta responded.

“No, you’re not.  Friend discount; on the house.”

“ Discount isn’t supposed to mean free,” Yuta protested.  

Taeyong gave a proud look as he forced the flowers on Yuta.  “I am the house, therefore I get to decide what to put on it.  That’s the final word.”

Yuta tried to argue again but lost due to Taeyong’s hard-headed generosity.

Taeyong gestured to Yuta’s bag of seeds as he was preparing to leave.  “That for Mark too?” he asked.

“No, this is for me,” replied Yuta.  “Just out of some herbs.  Also, the flowers aren’t only for Mark.  You’ll all get to enjoy them!”

Taeyong’s eyes rolled up into his head for a moment, contrasting the sweetness of his face.  “Okay, okay, fair enough.  I’ll see you later tonight, then.  I can’t wait!”

When Yuta was out the door, he transferred his baggie so it was pinned between his elbow and side, giving him a hand to manipulate his phone.  There was a text bubble on the screen from Mark confirming he could come over any time after 6:30.  Yuta grinned, sending off a quick message in their friend group chat requesting the pleasure of everyone’s presence at his home at 7:45.    

Yuta’s family lived in a craftsman farmhouse with a compact cluster of woods in the backyard and a garden out front.  The Nakamotos were not farmers, though, so the rest of the land which had once come with the house they sold in part and gave up in part to be used as communal land for the town.  This meant that Yuta grew up with a slew of gardeners, hikers, picnickers, and campers hanging around his home, and his friends credited this with his sociability.

The house’s old barn had been converted into storage space and a study for Yuta’s father, but once he’d graduated from college and returned home, the upper loft area was turned over to Yuta so he could enjoy more privacy from his parents and younger sister.  It was really nice of them to let him move in there while he decided what to do with himself.  He remembered transferring his belongings to the barn like he was moving into his dorm freshman year all over again.

Yuta and Mark hadn’t met in school, since they were four grades apart.  Instead, they met because they lived next door to each other; their families’ properties separated only by a short hawthorn hedge.  Once when they were in elementary and preschool respectively, they became convinced there were dinosaur bones entombed in the plant’s roots and went to work hacking at them with plastic toy shovels until they had unearthed a series of interestingly-shaped rocks, or as they had put it to their horrified parents, “triceratops horns.”  

Yuta still had those rocks on a silver saucer he kept on his dresser to display random natural objects he’d collected over the years, and the memory flashed through him at the sight of them when he walked into his room that day.  He placed his bouquet in a flouted cut crystal vase which he set in the sitting area on the far end of his loft, then ran a hot shower, figuring the steam would do some good for both his chilled nerves and constricted lungs.

When he exited the shower, he rummaged through his herb cabinet, pulling out some honey, turmeric, ginger, and ginseng.  He placed the herbs into his quartz mortar along with a small spoonful of the black seed he’d bought from Kunhang, then crushed it all up with his pestle.  He dumped the resulting paste into a mug, added some honey so that it all resembled liquified amber, and doused the mixture in hot water from his portable kettle.  Before drinking it, he thought up a short prayer that the infusion might permanently sooth whatever inflammation was bothering his airways.  He figured the strange discomfort wasn’t anything serious, but you could never be too careful.

Yuta sipped the pungent concoction and scrolled through his phone.  To his delight, most people were responding positively.  Everyone besides Chenle and Taeil (who happened to be home visiting) was available, and when Yuta offered to reschedule, both of them said they could just have another gathering later and it would be for the better – Yuta’s loft was going to be a tough fit for all of them as it was.  In a way it made him feel better that Johnny couldn’t be there.  That was the trouble with large friend groups: finding a time when everyone was free and motivated was as difficult as finding a spell Yuta’s mother hadn’t practiced.

Yuta hooked his phone up to his speaker and played some music while he got dressed, swapping his black bathrobe for jeans, a white t-shirt, and the letterman cardigan that’d been purchased ironically with the rest of his contemporary dance troupe in college, but quickly turned into one of his favorite items of clothing.  Yuta peeked at his clock.  An hour and a half and he’d be dancing around his room with his friends, pleasantly buzzed and listening to all the hijinks Mark had undoubtedly gotten himself into his freshman spring.

***

Yuta might have been a diviner, he thought stupidly, he had been that accurate in predicting how the night would go.  Of course, it wasn’t hard to anticipate an outcome he’d had a hand in orchestrating, but he excused his jumbled thoughts as they could be easily chalked up to the multiple Campari drinks he’d made himself over the course of the night – or, at least, that he’d convinced Doyoung to make for him.  He was in the sitting area of his room, dancing with Mark and trying not to disrupt any of his furniture in the cramped space.

“Mark Lee,” he said, setting his glass on the coffee table so he could gesture more freely, “you mean to tell me you haven’t been up to anything of note since winter break?”

“I’m telling you man, I haven’t,” replied Mark, bouncing his way into the side of Yuta’s couch and pulling a startled face in response.  A fit of tipsy giggles poured from Yuta, causing Mark to practically heave laughter.

“Okay, anyway,” continued Mark before anything else could throw him off.  “It’s been midterms and stuff, so I’ve been really busy.  That’s about all I can handle if I’m still gonna try to keep the radio slot Johnny left to me and I promised him I would!  Some people sleep, you know.”

Yuta scoffed.  “I sleep,” he said, reaching towards the table to take a swig of the herbal red liquid in his glass.  “Anyway, point taken.”

“You really saw me at my wildest point, Yuta,” Mark said, sipping from his cider, “I’ve calmed down since senior spring.  I was nervous about college and I let that get to me whenever I came to visit you. Now I’m adjusted; I’m a new man.”

Yuta did a little spin and found that it made him lightheaded.  He chose to ignore that observation.  “What have you done with the Markie I knew?” he joked, pouting.  “It’s alright, I guess I just bring out the devil in you and you’ve gone soft now that I’m not around as much.”

Mark spluttered.  “Yeah, dude, definitely.  It’s all that dark magic and shit – total bad influence.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, nearly sending a knee into his table since he couldn’t see his legs for a moment.  “Oh, shut up, that ‘dark magic’ stopped you from needing crutches after you turned your ankle playing drunk badminton of all things!  Imagine explaining that to your parents.  You should be thanking me.”

Mark took a performative bow, extending a leg and outstretching his arms as if he were a 17th century gentleman.

“Thank you, your majesty,” he said.  “Although I seem to remember thanking you, like, a lot at the time.”

Yuta placed a hand over his chest.  “That’s of little importance, Markie.  Don’t you know a despot always needs his ego stroked?”

Mark looked at Yuta blankly.  “A what?”

Yuta stopped dancing to stare in dramatic disappointment.  “You’re kidding, right?”

Before Mark could answer (and Yuta knew, of course, that Mark had been dead serious), they were interrupted by the ringing of metal tapping against glass.  Yuta turned around to find Donghyuck teetering on his bed, surrounded by Yuta’s other guests.  He had a glass of something in one hand and a copper candle holder in the other, clearing his throat.

“Is this a toast?” yelled Yukhei.

“No,” Donghyuck replied, “this is a complaint.  Yuta Nakamoto: I have a personal issue with you that needs redress.”

Yuta scoffed as all his friends snickered in his direction.  “Alright, Hyuck, do tell.”

“I couldn't help noticing that Yukhei got back a week ago and you never threw him a party.  Same goes for Kunhang!" The supposedly offended parties just stood below Donghyuck, apparently surprised by their friend's little interruption. Jaemin and Jeno stood next to them, grinning with their arms tangled around each other by the edge of the bed.  Yuta could never see the two of them together without a near violent glee overcoming him at the thought that everything had worked out.  “And! And, you can't even be bothered to tune into a single one of my Twitch streams! What's up with that? You’re obviously playing favorites!”

“Hey,” Yuta began in his defense, “I’m your friend, not your teacher.  I’m allowed to have favorites.  Get your own best friend.”

“Oh, so he admits it!”

“He’s just jealous you’ve been hogging Mark all night, Yuta,” Doyoung interjected, and everyone laughed save Donghyuck, who wheeled around to glare at the source of the interruption.  He cleared his throat.

“Anyway,” Donghyuck continued, “In all seriousness, the reason everyone here agreed to attend this highly disrespectful event is because we love you, Mark, and we’re so happy you’re home.  If your being away has taught me anything, it’s that I actually do miss your dumb face and accidentally genius sense of humor, but it’s also made me appreciate those things even more when we’re together.  Don’t let Yuta keep you all to himself for the next two weeks because then I might have to challenge him to a duel, and we all know that wouldn’t end well for him.”  Everyone tittered at that except Yuta, who just crossed his arms and tried to look dispassionate.

“Well, I should be concluding, but I think if anyone else has some thoughts for Mark – or for any of the college kids for that matter since they didn't get their own parties – you should express them now.”

The group gave Donghyuck a round of applause and he took a bow, wobbling dangerously as he jumped back to the cedar wood floor.

Next it was Taeyong’s turn.  He stood where he was by Doyoung’s side rather than climb on the bed, clutching a cup in both hands and teasing Mark good-naturedly until he was a mortified mess against Yuta’s shoulder.

Kun went next, joking that he’d hired Jisung as his temporary delivery boy, so if Mark wanted to make any money over break, he’d need to scramble and get his shit together.  He concluded by telling him not to let Yukhei talk him into too many keg-stands when they’re visiting each other.  Mark shook his head like a madman, waving his hands wildly in front of him as if trying to dispossess his parents of a bad impression.

Jaehyun did get up on the bed, declaring that Mark is only in college once and should be allowed to make as many bad decisions as he wants, Kun .  Yuta found himself wondering unwelcomely exactly what kind of Bad Decisions Mark was making without him around.  As Jaehyun moved on to reminiscing about childhood days of cow-tipping, Yuta was suddenly seized by another bout of breathlessness.  It hit him like the slap of cold water in a polar plunge and made him feel as though every bit of tissue in his body was encased in plaster.  He tried to breath through it, but it only got more uncomfortable the harder he focused on the mechanics of his breathing.  Sicheng had draped himself on his side over the bed, preparing to speak no doubt, but Yuta realized guiltily he would need to miss it.  The coughing was starting in earnest.

Mark noticed.  He leaned in towards Yuta, eyes wide in genuine concern.

“You okay, man?”

Yuta nodded, covering his mouth with his fist and holding up one finger to indicate he’d return in a moment.  Then, he took off to the bathroom, the eyes of the group following him in discrete curiosity until Mark assured them all he thought Yuta was fine.

They probably just think I drank too much , he reasoned as he heaved over the sink.  He felt like he had something stuck in his chest that needed to be hacked up, but nothing arrived no matter how much he coughed.  After a few minutes of this, he stuck his head under the faucet and drank down as much water as he could manage, feeling whatever was stuck inside him being doused back down.  His breathing shallowed, but at least he didn’t have a violent need to cough anymore.  Suddenly, a terrifying thought hit him: if this was asthma, the potion he’d made earlier coupled with the prayer should have taken care of it.  What was it, then?  

He looked in the mirror as he heard Sicheng finishing up, the sound of his words filtering in through the bathroom door but not actually registering in Yuta’s brain as coherent ideas.  He thought he looked fine; his skin didn’t have a sickly pallor and his gold-dyed hair didn’t look greasy or sparse.  His eyes were a bit glassy, but Yuta attributed that to all the coughing and gagging he’d just put himself through.  He grabbed a lavender potion his mom had made him from his medicine cabinet and pressed it into the pressure points on his head and neck, trying to breath deeply as he did so.  He would ask her about it in the morning and surely, she’d know what to do.

When Yuta emerged, everyone was still milling around the bed, the quiet chatter that always signals the waning moments of a party setting in.  Mark abruptly cut off his conversation with Donghyuck and bounded over to meet Yuta on his way to the group.

“Do you feel alright?” he asked, hushed, “we were about to send someone to check on you. Need me to do anything to help?  You can direct me and I’ll make you a potion or something.  It might not be as good as one of yours but if you’re too tired –”           ��    

Yuta forced a laugh, cutting off Mark’s cutely concerned ramble.  “No, I’m fine, thanks though.  I just felt a little nauseous for a minute there, but I’m good now.”

Mark nodded like a bobble head.  “Oh, uh, okay.  Cool.  That’s actually probably good, you know.  Now, you won’t get a hangover.”

“Yeah,” Yuta agreed, a pit forming in his stomach as he looked into Mark’s dark brown eyes.  “Probably good.”

***

Yuta awoke about two hours later in his maroon upholstered armchair, one foot extended on his coffee table right next to the bluebell and sunflower bouquet he’d picked up what seemed like days ago by now.  Most of the party had gone home, but Jaehyun and Kunhang were snoozing on the bed, Jeno and Jaemin shared whispers in the corner, and Mark lay across the sofa facing Yuta.  Yuta stood, ready to cattle-prod people out of his room if he had to.  He woke Jaehyun and Kunhang and extracted everyone from his room with as much decorum as he could muster, and once he’d made his way back to Mark, the boy had woken up from all the hushed thank-you’s and goodbyes.  His glasses were askew, and he looked around the room the way people do when they wake up somewhere they don’t remember having fallen asleep.

“Oh, hey,” he said, voice scratchy.  “Am I the last one?”

“Yeah,” Yuta confirmed, perching on the couch’s armrest, “but don’t worry about it.  I saved you for last since you’re easiest to get home.  Let me walk you?”

Mark giggled.  “You don’t have to, it’s not like I could get lost.”

“I insist,” Yuta said, smiling firmly.

They walked, exhausted, from Yuta’s lawn to Mark’s, Yuta’s flip-flop-clad feet dampened by early morning dew cold enough to make him shiver.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, as they came to pause by the hedge between their families’ properties.

“I really did,” said Mark.  “Thanks for getting everyone together on such short notice.  I’m lucky to have a guy like you for a friend.”  Mark smiled.  Sunny , Yuta thought, like real warmth was hitting him.

“Same for me about you,” Yuta reciprocated, cringing silently at his awkward phrasing. Mark didn’t seem to notice.

“By the way,” Mark added, “I forgot to say anything, but I really like the blond hair.”

“Why thank you,” Yuta said, fidgeting side to side. “This color makes me think of summer.  A lot of personal changes can happen in three months, you know.  I’m still convinced I’ll get something interesting out of you, yet.”  Mark guffawed as he took a step into his yard.  “I mean, come on, Markie,” Yuta pressed, “not even a significant other or anything?  You used to be a hot item.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dude,” Mark said, “and if you insist on prying into that, you’re only gonna be disappointed at the lack of anything to report.”

Yuta felt the air flow freely into his lungs for the first time in hours.  He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his best friend – or rather he hadn’t allowed himself to realize; probably because the realization hurt.  Yuta’s four years away had been a struggle, but eight was seeming like borderline cruelty.

“Fine,” Yuta offered, “I’ll not pry, then.  Let’s do something tomorrow, hm?  I have work but we can meet up after.”

“Sounds good.”

“Goodnight.”

“’Night.  Thanks again, Yuta.”  Mark started the rest of the way towards his house as Yuta waved him off.

“It was nothing.”

Yuta tidied up a bit and got ready for bed, checking his almost dead phone before turning the light off.  3:42 in the morning, oh dear .  Below the time was a short message from Mark.  “ Btw I liked the flowers in ur room.  Might get some tomorrow from ty .”

Yuta stifled a cough.

***

Yuta woke up the next morning gasping.  He was sure the only reason his body had jolted him to sitting was because he’d stopped breathing in his sleep and it was a last-ditch effort to save him.  Once he’d gathered himself and gotten mostly ready for the day, he sat at his table to do a quick tarot reading.  He shuffled his art deco set against the coffee table surface, then brought them back into a deck, settling for a one-card reading since his tired and confused mind begged him for simplicity.  He took the top card in the deck and flipped it over.  It was the ace of cups, reversed, the image showing an orange goblet ringed by water lilies around its base and crowned by rays of sunlight shining off the rim.  All of it, upside-down.

Self-love, intuition, repressed emotions … Yuta rattled off the card’s associations in a slow attempt not to be concerned by its imagery.  Self-love, intuition, repressed emotions… “repressed emotions” kept jumping out at him when he landed upon it.  Something about that made him uneasy.  Was he repressed? He took the deepest breath he could muster and slotted the cards back in their case, figuring this hunch would grow clearer the longer he lived with it.  He had to be at work soon, but wanted to ask his mom for advice about the breathing situation before he headed out, so he grabbed his soccer bag and rushed down the stairs.  The skylight above them revealed nothing but a grey sky.          

[softtm]

sunflower [12]

Once again, you find yourself hanging out with Lucas, this time at his house after getting back from watching Toys Story 4. Although the movie was great and Lucas made you laugh throughout, you didn’t feel the spark. Not one bit.

You wish that you could. Honestly. If you could that would be great and everyone could be happy but you didn’t. You feel nothing even right now, as you sit on his couch, watching anime, cuddled up to him.

And if you didn’t have feelings for Lucas Wong, aka the definition of boyfriend material, there was no way you were getting out of this situation. Your love for Donghyuck was too strong, you guessed.

That leaves you only one option left: getting the surgery. If someone asked you two years ago if you would rather die for a boy or live but forget the boy, you would’ve said live, 100% and had Donghyuck and the others cheering you on for doing so. Now you don’t know if the surgery would be possible for someone like you who has fallen in love with the boy who was active throughout their whole life.

Without Donghyuck, your life would be meaningless. You two practically learned everything together, from riding a bike to learning how to cheat and get away with it. There was no way you could just throw away all those memories. Not without losing yourself in the process too.

Lucas must have noticed that you weren’t paying attention to whatever was on screen because he turns it off and faces you. Wow were you going to feel like an asshole when you tell him you have no feelings for him.

Taking your face in his hands, he asks you what’s wrong. Before you answer though, your phone gets a notification and you take the chance of getting out of telling him.

“Sorry Lucas, let me check this real quick,” you said, sliding your finger on the screen. What popped up only made you feel worst.

Your stomach felt sick and you could feel the creeping feelings of the petals coming up your throat. Before you could stop yourself, the bright yellow petals came out of your mouth and into your hands, the amount noticeably a lot more than last time.

Looking up, you remember Lucas was still right beside you. The look on his face went from confusion to pity once he realizes what’s going on. His next words surprise you.

“So you got it too huh?,” he asks, a little bit solemnly, a little bit reminiscented. The look on your face must have been funny because he laughed a bit, before talking again.

“Just to clear things up, I meant it as in I’ve had it before but chose the surgery,” he explains, pulling his shirt down to show you the scar on his chest. By now, you’re kind of speechless, never having the thoughts of someone you know might having or even had the stupid disease. Eventually, you find your voice to ask him a question.

“Was the surgery worth it?” you implore, wondering what he would say. Would he say he’s happy now that he’s not in a one-sides love? Or would he say he’s fine not remembering because he doesn’t remember?

Lucas thinks about it, probably carefully picking out his words before speaking as once he says it out loud, it becomes reality. You were okay with waiting. It couldn’t be easy for anyone to do what he did.

“To be honest with you y/n, I regret it. The surgery doesn’t really leave you the same. Yes, you do get to continue living and meet new people but it leaves an empty feeling behind. I don’t remember a lot of the happy memories or feelings from before the surgery and whatever I do remember seems like there’s something missing. If I could go back I wouldn’t have gotten it but now that I’m here, I should continue living or else those lost feelings would be lost for no reason”

Hearing the words come out of his mouth, you couldn’t help but want to give him a hug. It sounded almost lonely in a way. You couldn’t help the tears from falling.

Instead of you giving him a hug, he gave you one instead. Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with Lucas instead.

“I know it’s hard right now but whatever decision you make, it’s going to be okay,” he comforts you. You just cry even harder, trying to get your thoughts together. It must have been about an hour later before you somewhat recompose yourself.

Finally making your decision, you tell Lucas.

“I think I’m ready to die”

[prev] [next]

[kluvsldh]

[8:45 pm]

you didn’t know what to tell your best friend when she caught you coughing up sunflower petals.

“how long has this been going on?”

“2 months.” you mumbled.

“god y/n, how could you hide this from me? why didn’t you tell me when it first began?”

you also didn’t know how to tell your best friend you’re in love with lee donghyuck, her boyfriend.

[jenotation]

pruned to primroses | huang renjun

— genre: angst | hanahaki!au, soulmate!au

— word count: 1k+

— warnings: several mentions of death

Flowers are pretty for eye candy, but they don’t beat the suffocation that capitulates you when you see the boy with the same name on your wrist with his soulmate.

A typical spring day begins with beautiful cherry blossoms flying freely in the landscape, accompanied by the fresh smell of happy roses from the local garden that everyone seems to love. You take a glance at the name engraved into the supple skin of your wrist, Huang Renjun. You’ve heard of him: he goes to your school, however he’s in none of your classes. He’s the president of the Art Club, and you find that very endearing. You’re glad that he’s not a mindless teen who sells drugs for the greed of money or inserts his penis into every girl that gives him attention.

You can already tell that both of you are polar opposites. Whilst being a part of Art Club is very calm and collected, you’re a cheerleader for the school’s football team. Nevertheless, you believe that opposites attract and you could make it work.

Soulmates are interesting. You either belong together or you don’t, literally. You’ve heard so many stories. Good and bad. Ideal and unfortunate. You could have the name of your soulmate on your wrist, but they have someone else’s name on their wrist. You pray that you’re not placed into that situation by fate.

And that’s happened before. Precisely to your best friend. At the ripe age of 16, her collarbone, weirdly, was painted with the name Lee Jeno. A handsome, chiselled blonde from your physics class. However, he had Jung Joohyun on his collarbone and it was a hopeless situation.

When you’re incompatible, your designated flower grows in your stomach and reaches your throat and oesophagus gradually until you’re vomiting, vomiting and vomiting those cruel flowers, trying to get it all out. It’s a flower that gives you both a lot of hope and is your supposedly said well-wisher which pitifully contrasts the suffocation you’d feel.

But all the plush petals don’t come out. You’re left trapped in a dark and flowery source of torn life and you die in misery.

Your best friend couldn’t bear her heartache. To watch your soulmate-but-not-soulmate attach his lips onto someone else, someone that’s made for him is something you’d hate to dream of. To be one in a thousand that is one-sidedly acquainted with your soulmate is a road to hellish triumph. And like that, white roses continued to bloom in devastation into her stomach and it was a never ending series of flowers falling from her lips, just to leave her face blackout pale and her soul at peace.

Today was your day to visit your best friend at her grave, situated at the hanahaki sufferer graveyard. It’s a flourishing Saturday, and all the birds are tweeting and loving one another. You bring red roses to her grave, in contrast to her deathly white roses, and you place them down in front of her. You miss her. Your heart thumps and aches for her.

A tear falls from your eye. And another. And another. They’re gushing from your eyes now, like the continuous nutter of the birds, and it’s an endless waterfall which trails down your reddened cheeks in oppression.

Your best friend was your diary and your happiness. A melancholy 2 years since her death left you miserable and mourning for her, craving her hugs and late 2AM texts to grab a snack. Quickly, you wipe the tears on your cheeks, disappointed in showing your friend how vulnerable and fragile her death had left you.

“S-Soomin,” you whispered. “I miss you so God-damn much. I can’t believe you left me like this, with no one. Those white roses must have really fucked you up, huh?

“I’m waiting for you to grab some ramen at 2AM, yeah?” you giggle. “I have to go now, I have a lesson now. But take care, yeah? I’ll see you soon-“

“You must have been really attached to Soomin, huh?”

You turn back to the voice, and it comes from a very, very handsome boy. Your head and heart screamed ‘Huang Renjun!’, however it didn’t seem like you were compatible as you thought you guys were...

His hand clasped another girl’s hand, her wrist glowing pink with the name ‘Huang Renjun’, and his glowing blue with ‘Kang Haeri’.

His messy hair was covered and protected from the beaming heat of the sun with a black Nike cap, and his lips were beautifully pink and rosy. His eyes reminded you of the sweet almonds which decorated Soomin’s last birthday cake, his rucksack hanging tight along his broad shoulders and his hand clasped and locked in love with Haeri’s.

The girl beside him was also just as beautiful. Her skin was prettily pale and her eyes were doll-like, painted to perfection with brown eyeliner. God, they looked perfect together. It was unimaginable for you to be his soulmate.

“Y-Yeah, she was my best friend,” you sniffled. “I loved her.”

Haeri kneeled down to you and gave you a pat on the back, out of pity or love, you didn’t know. “Don’t worry, she’s out of the pain. She’s in a better place now.“

“I agree. I hope her soul rests in peace. Haeri, let’s go,” Renjun nods in what you see, pity, which fumes and pains you.

Renjun and Haeri give you a wave bye, and you’re left on the grass, your heart thumping in your chest like you were running away from a murderer.

The flowers begin to succumb your stomach, and you feel it, you feel the way Soomin felt. You get up rapidly in a rush to find a washroom and you run for it, the unknown flowers bottling up and starting to travel up through your bloodstream. You yank the door open and you lean over the loo, your eyes bloody red in more salty tears, and you puke out the unfortunately beautiful flower petals.

Primroses. Your favourite flower petals. They lie in the water of the loo, swimming with grace but they continue to grow in your intestines and spew from your mouth venomously. You’re light-headed now, head spinning like a tornado and your breathing is shaky.

The dizziness gets to you and you fall onto the ground with a thud. Pretty primroses continue to fall from your lips but you can’t feel them anymore; they leave you bruised and broken. You are finally able to empathise with Soomin’s pain. You are finally able to get rid of the loneliness you felt initially.

You promise to see your friend in heaven.

[starjeno]

bloom | n.jm | 1

genre: angst, fluff? | hanahaki!au pairing: student!jaemin x female!reader warnings: vomiting/choking, blood, lots of flashbacks summary: jaemin suffers from a special kind of unrequited love — one that makes him choke out flowers. a/n: my first fic! and it’s sad! i have never read the manga where hanahaki originated from, all the information i got was from google. all the flashbacks are in italics :o enjoy!

for the last five years, jaemin’s gone through hell.

it’s not hell in the typical sense — there are no demons that follow him and he isn’t caught up in some horrifying gore-filled scenario. nothing like that. jaemin considers his condition infinitely worse.

as children, he never batted an eye at you. though your families were close, you two never really clicked as your parents thought you would. trips together were dull and classes were even duller. to jaemin, you were just another blade of grass in a field. you didn’t really mind.

“jaem!” you call out, and he whips his head over to meet your eyes. he’s been waiting at this park bench for what seemed to be ages. your lips curve upward at his blank expression, “sorry! did you wait long?”

35 minutes.

“i just got here, no worries,” he smiles. he pauses suddenly as he feels his chest swell with a sharp pain, right above his heart, “i need to use the restroom. one moment.”

jaemin rushes off towards the nearest building, gripping his torso firmly. he feels an upward flow and makes it to an empty stall just in time to heave. light pink apple blossoms trickle out of his system. they bob on top of the water gently, and jaemin notes the darker tinge at the base of the petals.

“shit.” it’s the only thing he can say right now. his hands run messily through his bangs while he thinks about his second year of high school, the athletic festival, right before the 100 meter sprint. jaemin thinks of it as the first time he threw up petals.

“i’m going to win that race.”

jaemin freezes. he happened to walk past the water fountains when your harsh whispers filled the quiet air. he hears another giggle from one of your friends.

“what if he was lying?”

“lying?!” you exclaim, and jaemin has to stifle a laugh at your incredulous tone while you continued, “he declared in class that he would go on a date with whichever girl won the 100 meters.”

“it was just to get his fan club’s hopes up.” jaemin nods at your friend’s sentiments, but you aren’t deterred.

“well, as part of his fan club, my hopes are up!”

jaemin continues walking after that. he doesn’t really care.

jaemin smiles a bit at the memory, but then remembers you’re still waiting for him. he flushes the petals down and laughs bitterly as he washes his face. for the rest of the world, apple blossoms represent good health and eternal love. for jaemin, they’re the opposite.

he’s happy for now, though. watching you run up to him and ask if he’s okay makes his heart swell with love. you grab jaemin’s hand and lead the way down various streets. a smile spreads on his face without him realizing when he recognizes the route to the animal shelter — you had remembered when he talked about wanting a dog since forever. when you arrive in front of the building, you turn and smile, “surprise! i know you want a dog really badly so maybe you can spread that love to some of the pups in here!”

jaemin wraps you in a warm hug, feeling his chest heat up. he bit his lip, not knowing whether it’s because you care about him so much or the petals beginning to form in his throat again.

jaemin trudges over to the track, where you stood stretching. a hand strikes him on his shoulder, and he twists his head to see jeno grinning happily. jaemin’s best friend for the last six years had dragged him here to watch the girls in their grade “for educational purposes”. jaemin agreed.

“isn’t that ____? she’s cute,” jeno remarks, nudging jaemin. he was already watching you bend side to side, loosening your arms. jaemin nods absentmindedly, thinking back to your resolution to win.

“you know, mark said that he would date whoever won this race?” jaemin motions to the track below and jeno snorts, “he’s such a dick! he thrives off these girls flailing over him.”

jaemin hums in agreement. by now, everyone had lined up at the starting line. he watches you now, eyes curious with how fast you’ll run. at the pop of the toy gun, cheering ensues from the bleachers. jeno laughs with glee, but jaemin stays silent. the amount of effort you sprinted with made his cheeks flush with anticipation. he doesn’t understand why you would put so much effort in for someone you had a silly crush on.

would you ever do this for him?

jaemin’s face turned a dark shade of red as you zoomed past the finish line, collapsing onto your knees. jeno shrieks with joy at your victory before glancing over at jaemin, who’s heaving and furrowing his eyebrows.

“jaemin?” he asks cautiously, and jaemin turns to jeno with fear creeping up the protruding veins of his neck. he opens his mouth to respond, but instead of words, a petal falls out. jeno’s mouth drops open, “you ate a fucking flower? when?”

jaemin wipes his lips with wide eyes and looks at the moist baby pink crescent in his lap. an apple blossom, like the trees that grew around his home.

jaemin rubs the puppy’s ears fondly, watching its fur fall back into place. the room is filled with barks and laughter and jaemin believes he could not feel any more bliss than this. his smile slowly fades when he knows you and him could not be like this forever.

“jaemin!” you laugh, holding up the paw of a small bichon frise, “we should totally get a puppy! we could take turns caring for it or — oh! maybe we can even move in together!”

jaemin’s face whips up in shock, his bangs landing messily, “what?”

“oh! it was just a thought, you know?” you bite your lip, realizing how crazy that must’ve sounded, “since we study at neighboring colleges and you have a part-time job …”

jaemin looks away, blushing and smiling. he loves you, especially when you plan out a future with him in it. his chest pierces with a flash of pain and he groans, eyebrows curling in alarm.

you glance over, freezing up when he clutches the curve of his neck, “jaem? what’s wrong?”

he gives a weak smile, “i think i ate something bad.”

before you could reach out to him, jaemin flees and runs over to the bathroom. he curls over a toilet again, hurling petal after petal. the water was covered by a pink layer now, and jaemin’s alarmed. it’s more than last time and though he was told the quantity would increase, he never knew the color would deepen and the taste would be more metallic. it was almost like —

“ — blood?”

“hanahaki disease.”

“what?” jaemin says in confusion. jeno repeats again, this time with emphasis, “ha-na-ha-ki. i did some research.”

“research?” jeno nods, “you’ve been spitting petals out all week! it’s like every time we eat lunch, you spit out a flower!”

jaemin grumbles, “it’s only 1 or 2 petals.”

“it’s only not normal,” jeno retorts. he turns over his laptop and opens a basic google search, “it’s a disease that’s really rare. almost unheard of. you cough up flower petals when you have unrequited love.”

jaemin chokes at the last word, “love? that’s a strong word.” there was no way he was in love with you yet, there hadn’t even been a proper conversation between you two.

“yeah, who in the world do you love so much that it makes you grow a whole garden in your lung?” jeno asks sarcastically.

jaemin stays silent.

“but, this doesn’t look too good jaem. you’ll die if they can’t reciprocate your feelings. you’ll keep throwing up more and more flowers until it suffocates you,” jeno says in concern. he looks up at jaemin, fearful, “do your parents know? how long has this been happening?”

“they don’t, only you. you saw the first one.”

“good god, jaemin. y-you need to see a doctor! tell your parents! something!” jeno runs his hand through his hair, standing up. his eyes are pinker than usual and jaemin exhales shakily. he didn’t want to die.

jaemin had sighed a thousand times today. his head hurt, and while puppies could seemingly cure everything, they couldn’t ease his pain. you gaze at jaemin when he walks back into the room, “are you sure you’re okay?”

he doesn’t want to end this time with you early, but he felt like jeno needed an update, especially since neither of you knew that actual blood would be involved, “i don’t feel that great, sorry.”

“don’t be sorry! let me walk you to your car,” you hurridly plead, to which jaemin nods gratefully. the walk is silent with the exception of pointing out a cloud that looked funny or some strange person on the sidewalk. when he slides into his car seat, you press your lips to his cheek through the window, whispering a small goodbye and jogging off.

jaemin rests his head on the wheel once you disappear, and he feels something hot and wet on his cheek.

he knows his version of hell is the worst.

next | masterlist

[takemehomeyunho]

meadowsweet

↳ pairing: lee jeno x y/n

↳ genre: angst, hanahaki au

↳ word count: 207

↳ warnings: n/a

jeno was the sun and the moon and all the stars. a boy made of lost puzzle pieces, pushed together, a mismatched picture.

he was the game of ‘not if i see you first,’ a candle left to burn until its own wax brings oblivion.

he was beautiful, translucent like the sun, a cinnamon sweet bitterness. skin like satin, milkiness stirred into honeyed coffee.

a boy who fights himself before he fights anyone else, a moon carved entity.

he is beautiful and sweet and all in between, except, he’s the hand that grips throats, a stranger between sheets.

muscles flexed and words spoken to caress skin; baby doll and kitten.

he is duality.

but envy is a green eyed monster that shoves love down your throat in angry cursive like corrosion.

she sings you to sleep, gathering petals between your paper thin ribs. she is the strings and you are the puppet.

the universe sang and he was it’s song.

maybe it was because something made you believe that you had come from the same star, everything was bound to be.

except, when the petals swam their way, pitifully, yet oh, so beautifully up your throat, you knew that you had come from two different solar systems.

[deardream07]

[11:49 PM] Badboy!Donghyuck rushes over to you, immediately grabbing your arms to steady you as a fit of coughs racked though your body. Despite his calm face, you know him well enough to know he’s worried based by the shakiness of his hands.

You cough again, this time, blood stained flowers fall to the floor.

"Lie to me." You begged weakly.

Donghyuck pauses, and he looks away from you as a pained expression takes over his face. Finally after a moment of silence, he looks at you in the eyes and says, "I love you."

[akairoses]

Lilac Heart | Na Jaemin Hanahaki AU

Synopsis:

It's 3am and my throat feels dry. I’ve crushed on others before but why does it hurt so bad this time around. I knew one sided love was supposed to hurt but not like this. My entire night was a blur. I remember drinking a couple shots, crying my heart out and passing out - the standard heartbreak procedure. My head throbs and I don't remember a thing.

Why are there lilacs on the floor and why am I covered in them?

I cough,

Oh shit, I guess this wasn't another silly crush.

Na Jaemin, I guess I love you more than I thought.

——-

Kim Hyemi was convinced that this was just another silly crush. She knew her heart sped a little too fast at his smile and she grinned a little too hard at his antics. The feelings weren't anything she ever experienced before, it just felt a bit stronger.

When Hyemi had a crush on the school president - Taeil, she felt nothing when he had found a girlfriend. She merely woke up one day and life moved on. The same pattern happened with her next few crushes - she’d watch them from afar then she'd move on. She was convinced that this was the same for Jaemin.

She was wrong.

Her eyes lingered a little too long, her hands brushed his far more than the others - this was love.

Then she came into the picture and suddenly hanahaki wasn't just another folklore.

After one party and a couple shots, Kim Hyemi was passed out cold. Ironically, surrounded by lilac flowers signifying her one sided love.

“Jaemin, I love you.”

-

a/n: part one coming soon!

[yournctespcontent]

[2:11 A. M. ]

La repentina sensación de ahogo hizo que te levantaras de golpe, inclinándote sobre tu cama tosiendo escandalosamente. Era como si algo estuviera atorado en tu garganta y no lo pudieras sacar. La tos fue reemplazada por arcadas desesperadas tratando de aliviar el dolor. Esto ya venía sucediendo desde hace días, pero esta noche simplemente es más fuerte. Sentías como aquel extraño objeto rasgaba las paredes de tu garganta, el metálico sabor de la sangre en tu lengua, las lágrimas en tus ojos y la falta de aire hacían de la experiencia diferente a las anteriores. La presión empezó a ceder, el objeto que obstruía tu respiración empezó a subir por tu garganta, llegando a tu boca y tosiste una última vez, dejando caer el misterioso elemento en el espacio entre tus piernas. Lo contemplaste en un sorprendido silencio. Una gardenia roja. Ah, así que de allí vinieron los singulares pétalos rojos que has estado escupiendo desde la semana pasada... De pronto, un escalofrío recorrió tu cuerpo y comprendiste qué era lo que estaba pasando. "Oh no..." murmuraste bajo tu aliento, llegando a tu memoria los recuerdos del pasado martes, cuando viste a DongHyuck caminando por los pasillos de la escuela de la mano con esa desagradable chica. "No es desagradable. Es linda, es amable, es cariñosa, perfecta para él. Simplemente no te gusta que esté con él". Deseaste que esa voz se callara, sabiendo que decía la verdad. ¿Qué irías a hacer ahora? Te habías enamorado de tu mejor amigo, sabías que no te quería más allá de la amistad, gardenias rojas habían empezado a florecer en tus pulmones, y las lágrimas amenazaban con salir de tus ojos otra vez.

Después de desahogarte, media hora más tarde te fuiste a dormir no sin antes tomar tu decisión. No querías que te viera sufrir, preferías que fuera feliz y que todo sea como siempre ha sido, no dejarías que la armonía en sus vidas se interrumpa solo por tus estúpidos sentimientos. Así, decidiste que lo mejor para todos sería deshacerte de las flores lo más pronto posible.

[hyuckflirts]

bloom - hwang renjun

↬ summary: where he made you bloom and filled your lungs with flowers ↬ genre: angst, hanahaki disease!au, drama ↬ warnings: death and tears and lowercase text (im sorry if u dont like that lmao) ↬ wc: 1.2K+ ↬ a/n: @najaeminloveclub i dedicate this to u ily

you didn’t really know where it all started.

“blue is one of my favorite colors, it’s so peaceful and pretty.” he mentioned to you when he asked you to get food with him on a sunny day. “the weather is too nice to not go out and eat.” he said.

you were laying at the grass after eating. he told you blue was one of his favorite colors and the sky is one of his favorite things to look at. maybe it started with that. with the bridge of his nose, or the shape of his face or maybe just the thought that you see him like how he sees the sky. he’s one of your favorite things to look at.

you’ve tried avoiding people your entire life, afraid this exact situation is going to happen. but you couldn’t help it. renjun is one of the brightest and amiable people you’ve met. he was radiant, genuine and beautiful.

wrapped in blankets and covered with blue petals, your bedroom looks like a garden filled with memories you’ll treasure and keep in your heart at all times but you know none of those were true, in fact, it was almost the opposite.

yes it does remind you of renjun, of how great of a friend he is and the happiness he brought you, but it also reminded you all of the feelings you have for him that he didn’t know or returned.

with a groan, you throw yourself onto the bed, cursing the world. you wanted to blame renjun but you know he’s not the one to blame. it was all you. you were the one who fell for his jokes, for his laugh, for his words, for him.

“relationships are so scary.” he rested his back on the chair he was sitting. the faint music of the cafe seemed to get more distant as he speaks. “like what if, you’re with someone, and then suddenly you just started choking on petals?” he said, his eyebrows almost reached each other. “or like what if your partner, who you really, really like just started vomiting petals? but you loved them? does that mean they liked another person but they didn’t like them back?”

“coffee really does things to you renjun.” he chuckled. “but isn’t just loving someone in general the scariest thing?” you added.

he nodded, thinking. “now i’m really scared.” he took as sip of his coffee as you laugh. “please don’t fall for someone who won’t see your worth, y/n. i don’t wanna lose you.”

“do i look like i’d fall for someone like that?” you asked.

“no offense but yeah.” you rolled your eyes that time but now you shake your head at how he was right. maybe it started that day. with his thoughts, his chuckle, his voice or maybe just the thought of losing him frightened you more than your greatest fears.

you’re at your happiest when you’re with him. he’s your happy place. but it wasn’t meant for you. it was built for another person and you just happen to saw and find comfort in it first.

“i want you to meet someone.” he was sitting comfortably at your couch watching the movie you’ve seen together almost a hundred times. “they’re really nice, i think you’ll like them.” he took some chips from yours, keeping his eyes on the movie.

“is this the same someone who you met last month?” to be honest you didn’t wanna hear it. you just felt like he wanted to and so you asked.

“um, yes.” he laugh, probably from a memory with the person he was talking about. “i swear you’ll like them. they’re so sweet and kind. they were also really funny.”

“oh worm?” you looked at him, faking out a smile. “someone’s blushing.” you stated and he sat up shyly. “do you like them?”

“not, that much. but maybe?” he looked down at his hand. “they were so cute. they make my day better each time.” he shrugged.

that’s when the your happy place came crushing down. maybe it started that night. when he speaks a note higher, smiled a little bigger and when he started saying all the things you could never say out loud, the way he felt.

you sat up as another wave of pain rushed through your stomach and lungs, petals and tears fall to your hands every time you cough. the disease is at its peak. it’s breaking you and that even sitting up hurts every part of your body. at this point all you can do is wish for this to be over.

isn’t it just so funny how the person who made you feel alive is the same person who made you feel lifeless? like death?

you heard a soft knock on your door. he opened the door, the light from outside gave a glow to his skin.

“renjun?”

“i’m renjun.” that was it. everything lead back to this. when his smile lighten up the whole room and when he happily offered you his hand as he said those words. it started with this. his name.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you!” you answered and it really was, he seemed sweet and kind, but now you’re laughing with irony at how knowing him not only made you feel butterflies in your stomach but filled your lungs with flowers, producing beautiful blue petals. it was his favorite color.

and now he’s back in your room, looking at the petals on your floor and on your bed.

“what are you doing here?” he walked towards you carefully. his throat tightens at the sight of you.

“y/n.” he sat beside slowly. his voice was already shaking and so was his hands. “was it me?” his voice cracked.

you shook your head. “no.” you manage to let out. “all you did to me was make me happy.” a tear fell down his cheek. “you made me bloom.” you laughed weakly. renjun sobbed, his tear falling to your hand as he held it.

“this isn’t funny!” he cried even harder. “i’m so sorry.” his grip tightens.

“it’s not your fault.” he pulled you to his chest and you imagining all the scenarios just like this if renjun loved you back. “renjun,” you wanted to say his name a hundred times until you get tired of it, but you know you wouldn’t. “thank you.”

“please y/n.”

“for everything. you have no idea how important you are to me.” you breathe slowly along with him. “and i love you. so so much.”

“i’m sorry. you deserve nothing but the best. you deserve the entire world, the stars and the moon. i’m sorry i couldn’t give it to you.” his voice was quiet, barely audible. “if i could do this all again i would never have introduced myself to you.”

you coughed, getting weaker and weaker every time. “if that happens, i’d probably still fall for you.” he caressed your hair. you heard him sob again.

“you deserve all the love in this world,” he whispered. “i’m sorry i couldn’t even give mine to yours.” you slowly closed your eyes, feeling the flowers take over your insides. “but please do believe when i say i love you.”

maybe and hopefully in another life, renjun, you will. you’ll give the amount of love i gave you or even more and mean those words like how i did.

[f-l-writes]

Dahlia

Warning: Major character death, vomiting, possible swearing

Word Count: 4764

Hope you enjoy and feel free to request!

You always shied away from the thought of love. From the thought that unrequited love could be your death, much like it was for a close friend of yours in 7th grade. Up until that point, you had always figured that it wasn’t as devastating as people made it out to be, but when Justin passed in the middle of the seventh grade you, you were heartbroken. You had viewed the boy as a brother and he was your closest and most trusted friend.

He had always dropped hints that he liked someone but he had never exactly stated who. It wasn’t until you were given his journal during his funeral that you realized it was you. You were the cause of his death because you didn’t love him the way he loved you. At that exact moment, you swore off falling in love and you made sure that no one ever fell in love with you. You didn’t want to be the cause to another death of a close friend and you didn’t want to die the same way Justin had six years prior.

Now, you were a freshman in college and four months into the school year. When you had transferred to Korea to attend school at University of Seoul, you had quickly made friends with a large group of people of varying ages. For those first four months, you had stuck by their side and acted like the “parent” of the group, aside from Tae Yong and Tae Il.

In those first four months, you hadn’t even thought of ever falling in love. You had managed to avoid it up until now and you didn’t plan on breaking your own promise. You weren’t going to die because of unrequited love. You were going to die of either a freak accident or natural causes. Nothing in between. You were adamant on that.

For the next two months, you were safe from any of that. Life continued on as normal until one day a boy named Mark Lee transferred into one of your classes. Up until this point, you knew nothing of him but he had quite a bit of knowledge of you. He had explained that he was Tae Yong’s friend and that the older man never shut up about you. As quickly as that, you two had clicked and became friends, not realizing the danger it posed to you.

Over the next few months, you and Mark quickly became closer and closer and, soon enough, he was your best friend and the person you spilled everything to. From stress about school to concerns about other friends, Mark knew everything. One thing you hadn’t realized however, was the way he was making you feel.

You didn’t realize anything until the one day that he grabbed your hand because you were lagging behind and he wanted to rush to cafe where you were supposed to meet up with Dong Hyuk and Yukhei. That’s when you realized the way your heart sped up and your hands became clammy. That the only thing you actually ever thought about outside of school was I wonder when me and Mark can hang out again. That’s when you realized you broke your most important rule. You fell in love. You had no idea if he felt the same, but you had a silent hope that maybe he did. Maybe you would be okay and the two of you would be able to be together happily.

Now, you had a bit of a darkened mood and Mark was quick to pick up on it.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned, tilting his head as he slowed down to walk beside you.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you lied, giving him a false bright smile. He had given you an odd look before stopping, crossing his arms.

“Tell me what’s wrong. Dong Hyuk and Yukhei can wait,” he said, concern lacing his voice very clearly.

“Have you ever been in love?” you questioned suddenly, your eyes looking anywhere but his.

“Once or twice. Nearly cost me my life both times but… I managed to pull myself out of it before I could die,” he responded solemnly before continuing. “Is there someone you’re in love with?”

“I think so… but I’m not sure he feels the same. I’m worried that with the promise I’m breaking, I might end up having to forget this person or end up dead… Neither option seeming pleasant right now,” you admitted, continuing to avoid eye contact by looking down.

“Who is it?” he questioned. “I’m sure if I need to, I can get them to know you, to like you. I don’t need you dying on me. Your like a sister to me… I don’t know what I would do without you.”

The words struck home in your chest as you remembered the conversation, oh-so similar to this, that you had six years ago.

Justin, you know you can tell me anything! You’re like my brother, you should be able to trust me!

It’s nothing Y/N, really. Just some stuff that’s going to pass by. Don’t worry about it.

Two weeks after that conversation, he had ended up dead, bedridden with his floor covered in bloodied petals. It was a horrible sight to see when you had gone to check on him after noticing he had been gone for nearly a week of school. You had been the first to find him and it had been traumatizing to say the least.

“Don’t worry about it, Mark. I’m sure it’ll pass without incident. Let’s go find the guys,” you finished with a smile, turning around and continuing the walk to the cafe.

The rest of the walk there was almost completely silent as you struggled to hold back tears from the memories of finding Justin and his funeral. Struggling to hold back the self-loathing that you hadn’t picked up on his problem sooner and your inability to feel the same way he felt about you. You blamed yourself for his death, even now despite the people you used to know telling you that it wasn’t. That you couldn’t have known what was going on.

“Y/N!” Yukhei’s words snapped you from your thoughts as you jerked back in the seat you were in, finally at the cafe with a coffee in your hands. “Are you alright?” he had noticed the shaking in your hands as well as the distant and off-putting look in your eyes and it had concerned the man more than he cared to admit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking is all, don’t worry,” you responded with a smile, setting the cup down on the table before leaning back in the chair. “Anyways, I take it you still haven’t studied for the Psychology exam yet?” you decided to tease, trying to take your mind away from the memories.

“Nope. Don’t plan on it either. I’m sure I’ll do fine without it,” he responded with a grin, leaning forward on the table.

“Sure thing, Superman,” you joked back at him, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the feeling of Mark’s gaze burning into the side of your face.

The rest of the meetup passed without incident. You didn’t zone out, you were active in conversation and you didn’t feel any of the things you had been feeling recently. Maybe it was just a passing coincidence?

When you and Mark began the trek back to the dorms, the two of you had been relatively quiet, something that confused you greatly.

“Is it Yukhei?” he suddenly asked, his voice quiet, as though he didn’t even want to ask the question.

“Yukhei? No… It’s not. He’s a nice kid but not my type,” you responded, giving him a slight smile.

“Why won’t you tell me? I thought I was your best friend. You’re supposed to tell me these things,” he grumbled, somewhat annoyed by how elusive you were being.

“I know, but something’s are best left unsaid,” you responded, stopping outside of the doors that led into the dorm building.

“Maybe, if I don’t die from unrequited love, I’ll let you know who it is,” you stated after a few moments of silence.

“Don’t say that! Worse comes to worst, we take you to get the surgery done… I don’t want to lose you,” he said with a pout, his eyes misting over with fighting tears as he thought about how he would feel if he lost you to this disease instead of to natural causes.

You were surprised to see the sudden tears and pulled the man into a tight hug. “If it comes down to it, we’ll go get the surgery, Mark. You won’t lose me…” However, you knew the truth. You’d forget him and your love for him if you got the surgery done. There would be a huge dark gap where he used to be and you didn’t want to forget him. Your time with him had been amazing. Perfect, even. You felt no shame in admitting to yourself that you loved him, but you couldn’t bring it on him to know he was the cause of your death when it came time for your inevitable passing.

Finding yourself back in your dorm, you walked to your room and dropped on your bed, staring up the ceiling. You wondered if this is how Justin felt in his last few weeks. Did he start the journal in those last few weeks of his life just to tell you how it wasn’t your fault he loved you so much? That every minute he had spent with you had been a minute well spent with no regrets.

With these thoughts on your mind, you began to cry. You hated the thought that this is what Justin had gone through and, looking back on it now, maybe you could have loved him as well if you were so caught up in everything else but noticing how he felt. You continued to blame yourself, even six years later but you knew you were going to do one thing Justin hadn’t when he had passed. You weren’t going to tell anyone who you liked.

Maybe they would figure it out but if they didn’t, you weren’t going to say anything. You didn’t need Mark feeling horrible for something that he couldn’t control. You had given yourself hope and you should have known better than to trust it.

Soon enough, you had fallen asleep, remaining that way until the following morning when your alarm went off for your morning classes. With a groan, you rolled out of bed and got dressed as quickly as possible before rushing out of the dorm once Mark had texted, letting you know he was outside of the building.

Once you saw him standing by the door, holding it open for you, you smiled at him. “Why thank you,” you said jokingly, earning a chuckle from him. However, you could tell something was off.

“Mark,” you started hesitantly, thinking that maybe your brain was just messing with you. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you going to be okay? Do you think you’ll stop loving whoever it is that you do?” he questioned, his eyes on the ground as he responded, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“No…” you had admitted. “This person is as much a part of me as I am myself. I’ve only known him since about halfway through the year but I love him like I’ve known him my whole life,” you responded, looking at the ground as the two of you continued to walk in silence to class.

Weeks had passed and now you were experiencing your first symptoms with the growing flower in your body. It was the few hours before a planned night out with Mark, Yukhei, Dong Hyuk, and Tae Yong when your coughing fits started. At first, they had begun as little tickles in your chest that you put off as perhaps a hiccup trying to come up. However, as the moments passed, it became more and more violent until you were doubled over, struggling to breathe through the coughing fit that racked your body.

Grabbing your phone when you had managed to calm down a bit, you texted Mark. I can’t make it out tonight… Sorry. I think I caught a cold. But you knew better. Knew that it was more than a cold. You were going to die, whether anyone else liked it or not. You were going to die knowing that you lived a good life that was filled with bright moments with Mark.

Soon after you sent the message, the man messaged back. We’ll move the night into your house then and have a movie night!

You sighed, feeling like you should have figured he would have suggested that. I don’t want anyone getting sick though!

Don’t worry about it! I’m sure we’ll be fine!

Giving in, you gave him the okay before deciding to get dressed to be somewhat presentable. When they finally arrived, you invited them in silently, trying not to cough. When you saw Mark for the first time that day, you knew he was concerned. You could see it etched into his face. The creases in his forehead as he looked at you, brows drawn together tightly and eyes running over your face several times.

Just before you were about to speak and greet them after they had filtered in, Mark spoke up. “Can I speak to you in private?”

You knew what was to come but you couldn’t deny him to let his feelings out. Silently, you nodded and the two of you walked into your room.

“Are you actually catching a cold or is it the flower?” he questioned, his eyes still showing that same concern that they had when the boys had gotten here. However, when you answered whilst struggling to keep down an upcoming coughing fit, you saw his eyes go from concerned to despaired.

“It’s a flower,” you quietly let out, unable to keep eye contact anymore when you saw that saddened look on his face.

“We have to get you to a hospital, then!” he said, still managing to keep his voice low enough so the others wouldn’t hear.

“Maybe it’ll go away, Mark… It’s just… If it doesn’t, I don’t want to get it removed. I couldn’t bear living on without this person in my memory,” you said somewhat forlornly. You couldn’t even imagine a life without Mark and while it would probably be easy once it’s all said and done, he would be devastated to learn that you could no longer remember him or the time you two had spent together and you didn’t want him to live with anything on his chest nor go through the process of making new memories and possibly falling for him all over again.

He was beyond confused at this point but he wasn’t going to argue, especially not now. “Alright… Let’s go watch this movie, yeah? Maybe you’ll get better…”  his tone was flat and cold, not portraying any of the previous emotions his eyes had conveyed. Even his face was a blank slate and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You didn’t like not knowing what he was thinking.

Throughout the movie night, you had managed to keep the coughing for breaks only despite the pain it caused your chest. By the time the fifth movie had ended, you realized that the boys had fallen asleep where they say, causing you to chuckle a little as you turned off the TV, deciding it best to just rest your head on top of Mark’s in an attempt not to wake him.

When you woke up in the morning, it had been rather roughly. Upon opening your eyes, you saw the frantic and scared looks of the boys who had stayed the night. “Are you alright?” Tae Yong questioned, his voice raised slightly as he looked at your confused figure.

“Yeah? Why?”

“You… Blood started coming out of your mouth while we were watching TV and when we tried to wake you up the first time, you wouldn’t wake up,” Yukhei stated, his own worried look set firmly on his face.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” you said, adjusting yourself so you could comfortably stand before heading into the bathroom without another word to wash your mouth out from the now strong taste of copper in your mouth.

You knew that, at best, you only had about a week left to live and your love for Mark wasn’t going to fade anytime soon. Now, all you could do was distance yourself as you let yourself die, something you enacted upon immediately.

Walking back out into the living room where the boys were gathered and conversing, you spoke up in the gentlest way possibly. “I’m not feeling well right now. Not to concern you, but I believe it’s best you leave so you don’t get sick either.” You tried on a smile for them and, though it was forced, there was some genuineness to it. There may as well be considering this would be your last time seeing them and talking to them.

As you escorted them out, you were surprised to see that they hugged you despite the warning that you were “sick”. It’s like they knew something was off. Of course, Mark clung to you the longest. You could tell he knew what you were doing, especially when he whispered “please survive this” in you ear.

You had only given him a short nod before closing the door behind him and going to your room, curling underneath the blankets as another coughing fit racked your body. Instinctively, you covered your mouth to stifle it and, before you even pulled your hand away, you knew there was blood that had come up. What you hadn’t expected, however, was to see the long, red petal of a flower sitting in your now unclutched palm. This was the beginning of the end and you knew it yet you weren’t going to derail the course of your situation. Instead, you decided to do the ironic thing. Order flowers for all your friends, each with a customized message. After that you would work on your will and set up your funeral online. Almost immediately, you set to work, fighting through the painful coughing fits to get it done.

For Tae Yong, you had gotten him anemone flowers. Not only were they his favorite kind, they also symbolized protection against evil and ill wishes. You hoped that your own wishes towards the man after your death would go heeded and he would be safe from what you were going through. Your message to him had been simple. Thank you for everything you had offered me. You were a great friend, a beautiful soul, and someone who deserves nothing more than happiness in this world. You were my first friend in this college and I love you like a brother. Thank you for being there for me, Y/N

Next was Yukhei. His favorite was a hydrangea, which you thought suited him. He wasn’t one to hide his emotions and the flowers, in a positive sense, symbolized heartfelt emotions. Yukhei pretty much wore his heart on his sleeve and you couldn’t help but to worry for the man as you ordered his bouquet of flowers. While you may have been a crackhead at times, you always knew when to be serious and how to pick up on emotions. You were a wonderful friend and I genuinely couldn’t have asked for better. Get on well with your life and do everything you ever wanted. Y/N

Third was Dong Hyuk, the amazing bastard. To you, Dong Hyuk was like your rock when ever you lost yourself from reality. With your focus on the computer, you began to order his flowers; asters. These were seen as symbols of love and patience and you thought that they suited Dong Hyuk perfectly. Despite it all, even when he seemed impatient, he was the most patient of the boys you knew. He was also an endless stream of platonic love. He was the perfect person to confide in and become friends with. Dong Hyuk, I’ve told you time and time again how much I love you and how I’ve adopted you as my brother. No matter what hardships you go through, know that, even in the darkness by yourself, I’m there listening like you have been for me. You mean the world to me and I would walk through hell and back for you. Y/N

Fourth came Tae Il. He got the hyacinth. He was pretty much obsessed with these flowers as he had several pots of them all over his apartment. The meaning wasn’t much to you in the moment you bought his, but you assured that they would be the most beautiful bouquet you bought. Tae Il was your guiding light and you wanted him to have a beautiful set of his favorite flowers. I hope you like the bouquet. I designed this one as perfectly as I could for my college father. You have been my shining light since day one and I don’t think I could have made it as far as I did without you. Please live a long, happy life and always keep your love for hyacinths strong. They’re beautiful, much like you. Y/N

Finally, was Mark. The most dreaded one. Taking a breath as you looked at your laptop, you began to go through and assort a variety of dahlias. While on the website, you almost choked up looking at the meaning that pretty much glared in your face. Symbol of commitment and a bond that lasts forever. As you finished up the bouquet after a moment of still movements and collecting yourself, you wrote the letter. Mark, you have been beyond an extraordinary friend since the moment I met you. You were funny, awkward, charming, charismatic and we fit like two puzzle pieces. You offered me solace when I couldn’t get it elsewhere and you were there when no one else was or could be. You deserve a life of happiness more than anyone I know and I don’t want you to keep me in your memory as the person you tried to help when their illness began. I want you to remember me and associate it with the good times we had. Find a perfect love and live well, Mark. Love, Y/N.

Now, it was on to the will, something you had been putting together since the beginning of senior year. Maybe you had an unconscious premonition about this happening or perhaps it was sheer luck, but you didn’t have much more to write. You left what you needed to your family and everything else went to your friends. In fact, most things went to your friends. They were some of the most important things in your life and you felt they deserved more. As soon as you were finished with the will (at which point the sun was beginning to set), you began the process of planning your funeral from the safety of your home and laptop.

The entire process probably took you until about three in the morning, but you were finally done and ready to sleep. While you settled down, you wondered if this would be the last time you would wake up. But you knew otherwise. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst stages of this fucked up disease.

Three days had passed and it seemed like you were getting better until it got worse. On day three, you found yourself kneeling in front of your toilet, vomiting blood and dahlia petals into the toilet. When you got the chance to breathe, it was like coming up for air after being underwater for too long before you went back under and the process started again until you finally collapsed next to the toilet, heaving and trying to catch your breath.

You knew you didn’t have much longer. Perhaps a day or so? Maybe less? But you also knew you couldn’t leave without one last word to the boys who you hadn’t spoken to since the night they stayed over. Pulling them into a group chat, you typed up a message, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

I don’t think I have much longer to live. Unfortunately, I’ve become one of many victims to a disease created by unrequited love. You’ll be receiving gifts in a few days and my funeral will be about a week after that. I left you all things in my will that I hope you get once I pass. I’m sorry for pushing you away these last few days but I didn’t want you to see my pitious state of being. Thank you so much for being the people who were always there for me and being the people I could love and treat as family. Don’t think too much over my death and continue on with life as it. I’m calling an ambulance soon to take me to the hospital so I can die outside of my apartment but I probably won’t live much longer after getting there. Once again, I’m happy to have known you. I love you guys and I hope we meet again in the afterlife.

Once the message was sent, you quickly called the ambulance, telling them your situation before having to wait fifteen minutes for them to get to you. Soon enough, you were being rushed to the hospital to live out your last half day.

At 4:00 PM on April 19th, 2019, you were pronounced dead. When the news got to the boys you had texted, they were devastated despite getting the warning beforehand. When they got the flowers, they saw it as ironic. A plant had killed you and now they were left to look at the final thing you had given them. It was almost like you forgave the disease for killing you and they hated it. They couldn’t forgive it. Even if it was your fault for falling in love and not falling out, they hated that there was no cure. That there could have been a way to save you if there was more research done on the damned disease.

When it came to the funeral and the days leading up to it, the boys were still heartbroken and devastated. Mark was the worst of them all. He blamed himself for not forcing you to get the surgery to remove the flowers. He blamed himself that this had happened at all, especially when he had rushed to your dorm only to find the floor littered with red dahlia petals and blood. He hated himself for not doing the one thing that he should have done. That he knew he hadn’t even realized. He hated himself for not realizing he loved you. For not realizing it sooner. Looking back on it now, he could notice the times where you showed overly friendly affection your subtle attempts to flirt. The hand holding, the tight hugs, everything.

Mark broke down in the middle of the funeral, sobbing violently as people went up to talk. Tae Yong and Dong Hyuk tried to console him, but it was practically impossible. He was a shaking mess, the most affected by your death. To him, it seemed as though no one else cared. That they weren’t showing nearly as much sadness as they should have been and he hated it. Why weren’t they sad? Was there something wrong with them? He didn’t get it.

Every now and then during the speech part of the funeral, he looked up and felt himself tear up even worse than before. He didn’t like seeing you so lifeless when you had been so full of life and happiness and perfection before. He didn’t like seeing your chest remaining still and seeing you in clothes he had never seen you in before. He hated all of it. He hated the thought of you dying yet he had to deal with it. He wasn’t going to ignore your wishes. He was going to live on despite his grief and he was going to try and be happy and maybe, after deciding to switch his majors, he could find a cure to the disease that killed you. For now though, Mark grieved with his friends over the one person he realized he cared about most. You.

[softtm]

sunflower [15]

you didn’t know when you started falling for your best friend until it was too late

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a/n DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN NOW MARI KNOWS 😬