#vldtask2

[vldmoonsoo]

     children’s day

               — moonsoo makes an important visit.

children’s had always been one of the favorite holidays for all four of the bak siblings, it being with the likes of christmas and their birthdays. they never struggled for money, and their children’s day gifts were always much bigger than needed but their parents always liked to spoil them, which the children always loved.

moonsoo’s reason for loving children’s day had always gone a little further than that. of course he liked the gifts -- he had kept most of them over the years -- but there was more to it. children’s day is meant to be used as a day for parents to spend time with their children, to do activities with them and, with their busy schedules, moonsoo’s parents rarely had the time to devote much time to each of their children individually.

children’s day was pretty much always the same while growing up. the family nanny, mija, would wake each of the four children and feed them breakfast as their parents got ready. after breakfast, gifts would be given and the children were allowed to play with them until lunch. after lunch, their parents would take all four of them to children’s grand park, where mija followed to ensure that the children behaved properly the whole time.

as a child, moonsoo always thought children’s day was the best, because of how much attention he got from his parents but, somewhere along his teenage years, when he was a trainee at summit, he’d realized that children’s day was only ever perfect because mija took on all parental responsibilities and allowed his parents to take all the praise. thinking a little harder, he realized that that was pretty much an everyday occurrence in the bak household.

now, at twenty one years old, moonsoo’s parents still sent a gift for children’s day and he sent back a nice card that would get to them three days later for parents day. It’d become a new tradition, the skeleton of what it once was and the missing element was clear.

waking up early on the fifth of may with no real plan, he got ready quickly and told the other members of twentytwenty he’d be back later in the day. before he left, he checked his reflection in the mirror, making sure that his hair looked at least half combed before he pulled his mask over his face.

being a nanny to the seoul elite for close to thirty years allowed mija to have quite the salary, yet she lived in a small apartment on the edge of town because all her money had always gone towards her own children’s education. moonsoo remembered asking her why she lived in a shack as a child, remembered how patient she’d been with the spoiled child and took the time to explain to him that not everyone could afford to live in a big house like he did. it had confused him at the time, but he was thankful for this little lessons now that he was older.

as it was usually the case when he went to visit the older woman, she was already on her porch when he got there. it seemed she aged every time moonsoo showed up here, but her smile remained unchanged as she stood to embrace the tall boy in her arms.

“you’re too tall, moonie-ya.” she pinched his cheeks as she pulled away from the hug, causing moonsoo to laugh. she’d been saying that since he was twelve years old and it had become their greeting over the years. “you’re just too small, halmoni.”

the older woman smacked the side of his head, causing giggles to flow out of moonsoo without him meaning to. even if she’d always had endless patience for the boy, it didn’t mean she allowed him to act like a brat. walking inside together, she made motion for him to sit and he obliged, watching her fuss around the kitchen to get him something to eat.

“thank you.” he grinned up at her as she placed a bowl of reheated kimchi jjigae in front of him, waiting for her to sit before eating. he ate mostly in silence, listening to her rant and rave about whatever drama she’d been watching recently and how the idol industry was a mess and how he’d really ought to get himself a girlfriend -- all with a smile on his face.

once their meal was done, moonsoo wasted no time picking up their bowls and washing them in the small sink under mija’s judging gaze. once the dishes were washed to her liking she simply walked away, which was moonsoo’s cue to rinse his hands and finish up before she complained that he was wasting all her hot water.

when he turned back towards the small dining room table, a small gift had been placed upon it. Even if they weren’t her biological children, she’d always try to get something small for the bak children on children’s day. smiling brightly, he sat back down in front of her, eyeing the gift before looking back at the older woman.

“halmoni, you don’t need to get me a gift.” he spoke softly, chest feeling just a little tight as he stared at the small box. “you’ve done so much, i don’t need a gift.”

the old woman waved him off. “i’m old, don’t make me wait longer than i already have.”

not wanting to offend her, he carefully unwrapped the gift in front of him. it was a picture frame with a single picture -- one that mija had taken during moonsoo’s first children’s day, when he was barely a few months old. too young for the zoo, he had stayed behind at the house with mija, swaddled carefully against his chest, sleeping peacefully. moonsoo could feel the threat of tears stinging in his eyes as he set the frame on the table, unable to look up at the woman.

“i don’t think i’ve ever properly thanked you.” he spoke after a shaky breath, eyes watering. when mija looked back at him confused, he continued. “for raising us. me. for taking care of me like your own.” he shrugged, looking back down at the table.

lost in his thoughts, he missed mija getting up and moving closer to him, wiping away the tears with her thumb like she did when he was a child. “moonsoo-ya,” she spoke softly, the usual bite in her voice gone. “you are my own. maybe not by flesh and blood but here,” she pressed her finger to his forehead. “and here,” she pressed her finger to his head. “you’re mine.”

“i don’t need your thanks or your words. or your money.” she emphasized the last part, looking at moonsoo with pointed eyes -- as soon as twentytwenty had started making real money, he’d always offered to give her a pension or really anything she needed, but she always declined. “i raised you like a parent would, and i didn’t do it to get recognition. i did it so you would be a good person, so you’d have real guidance in your life.”

so often while growing up, moonsoo would throw tantrums and mija was always the one to deal with him. when he screamed that he hated her, she still spoke to him in a soft voice to tell him she loved him. when he locked himself in his room for days on end, she still put food outside his door so he’d have something to eat. although his parents may have prepared him for idol life, mija had been the one to prepare him for the rest of it. so much of what he knows, what his interests are, can all be traced back to mija. she’d been the perfect mother to him, without even having given birth to him.

“i love you.” he closed his eyes as he leaned into her hands, taking a second to ground himself. he didn’t say the words often, but he meant them when he said them to her.

“i love you too, brat.” the woman laughed softly, running her thumb gently across his cheek. moonsoo had always been a terrible judge of other’s feelings, but he swore she was radiating nothing but straight love. “no crying in my kitchen, you know the rule.”

when he left later that afternoon with an bagful of treats and leftovers mija had made him promise to share with all his group members, moonsoo hoped the woman understood how much she meant to him, how thankful he was for everything she’d done. sure, it had been her job, but it was always more than that with her. she’d become the main parent in his life, the one person he truly hoped to make proud. he hoped he could live up to her expectations, that he would but enough but he also knew that if he were to fall from grace, should he stumble, she’d always be the first one to pick him up.

because that’s just what parents do.

[deoksuvld]

                                                            ❝  i am not your hero                                                                   nor your villain;                                                                 i am the monster,                                                         the disaster cloaked in skin

                                                              come now, friends                                                                       romans,                                                               lend me your ears                                                               for but a moment                                                           and a perhaps a pint of                                                                    your blood;                                                            pure happenstance. ❞

word count: 575 what: deoksu signs a check for his parents, but as always doesn’t care to know what it’s for. trigger warnings: mention of blood, mention of gun, mention of death, mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of abuse

Twitch like a trigger finger, send a bullet from the barrel of gun: aim straight but eyes elsewhere. Drifting, drifting. Lost but not forgotten, forgotten but ever-present. A canker sore, bold and bruising, angry and hidden among the flesh and mess of gnashing teeth that throw grins and grimaces at will. A mind of their own yet connected to the whole.

A whole lot of bullshit.

They said to forgive was to forget and forge one’s way ahead in life, neck craned back and towards the sky that beckoned them forth with a simple twinkle, stars like bright eyes. But tonight the heavens were dark, clouds and smog refusing to show the inherently calm scene that would have tamed the strongest of tempest, such as that which currently brewed in his chest.

It was just one signature.

But a man’s name was his title, his claim on the world while he was there and once he left, returning to the ether, to join the stars. Some say you dance once you’re up there, but he’d have to wait and see. He’d happily wait.

“Mr. Ahn?”

The voice stirred him, causing him to break from the internal spiraling that often happened to capture his mind on such evenings as this. He sat up, feeling the cool air on his face as the white noise of the city returned, no longer a hum in the background as it had been but seconds earlier. Dark eyes flickered to the man seated adjacent to him, scanning over his well-tailored suit and thin-framed glasses that made him look more like an accountant than a lawyer.

“It’s just one signature this time.”

The lounge chair creaked as the soloist sat forward, elbows resting on his thighs as his gaze drifted back out towards the city. He fiddled with an unlit cigarette, twirling it between a set of fingers and curling his lips inwards. The night — the void — was calling, soft whispers on the back of his neck that caused each hair to stand on end. There was such little separating him from a swan dive. It was only a thin sheet of glass...

“If you need some more time, I can come back tomorrow — ”

Christ, was that the last thing he needed. With his attention back on the lawyer, the soloist held out his hand to the other, who promptly handed over a folder and pen. Flipping to the first and only check inside, the Iksan native signed and returned it to the lawyer in a matter of seconds, a dead look creeping into his eyes as a numbness took over his skin.

“Did you want to know what it was for?”

The idol scoffed, expression flattening as he shook his head. Captivated by the far-offs lights. The lawyer stood to leave, bowing once before entering the apartment through the sliding glass door.

Click, click.

The soloist lit up the now gently tattered cigarette, taking a long drag with eyes slightly narrowed against the rising tendrils of smoke.

Forgive me Mother, for I must repent, for I have once again saved sinners.

A father who beat Your son, a mother who let it happen, a community that turned its backs on the boy with the scars on his.

“Be thankful,” they say, “ — that you got out.” “ — that you are where you are now.” “ — that you’re famous.”

But fame doesn’t cleanse the soul. It dirties it.

[minkyuvld]

come and find me~

“It’s been a while! I have something for you.”

It was only a quick v-live today, just long enough to get the word out. Kyuu had spoken to his manager earlier in the week, and while he knew that the rest of his group had been enjoying the downtime while it lasts, it was close to torture for him. In the last few weeks it had become painfully apparent just how much he relied on PS for support beyond his immediate network of friends and group members. Everything he did, he did it for PS. To read their comments online, to hear them cheering for him at concerts, and to look into their eyes and hold their hands at fan events. So far, he’d mostly used his free time to focus on himself. Sure, he had pushed out a little bit of content, but it wasn’t enough. That’s where the next idea came in.

“I’ve missed you, hello~ Yes, yes I have something exciting for you. It’s going to be happening very soon. Can you guess what it is?”

Already, Kyuu was feeling a warmth that was slowly moving through his body as he read all of their curious comments, PS trying to guess what he would be doing. Of course, mixed between were various comments telling him that they love him, asking where the other members were, and asking for shout outs for various countries and birthdays. It was his pleasure to oblige on occasion, straight after reading a plethora of KYUU NOTICED ME!!!! comments. This is what he lived for. Literally. After letting them guess what he would be announcing for a minute or two, the idol pretended to rummage around in his shirt, humming as he searched before pulling out the painfully obvious finger heart, followed by a very cute laugh and a wink.

“I’m only joking! I always have hearts for PS, so that isn’t a surprise. The thing I wanted to tell you about, is that tomorrow at ten am on our Instagram, I’m going to be having a competition! I’ve tried to make it as fair as possible, but it’s kind of a work in progress so please bear with me~”

Pausing for another moment, Kyuu scanned the chat to read the excitement of the fans, watching them all speculate over what he was going to be doing. 

“I will be posting a picture to Instagram with a question for you, one that only PS should know the answer to. For ten minutes our DMs will be turned on, and you can send your answer to us, along with a brief comment about why you want to win the prize... Are you ready to find out what that is?”

Another pause for dramatic affect, allowing PS to build excitement. Before he spoke again, he banged gently on the table like a drum roll.

“The prize is going to be drawn randomly for fifteen lucky PS. Which will be a meeting and a meal with me~ As well as the other lucky winners, of course. I suppose the title of this v-live isn’t correct, since you won’t really be finding me, but we’ll be telling you where I am.”

There was a bright smile across his face as he watched the chat go wild. Both with positive and negative comments. As predicted, there were the international fans who felt slighted by the Korea based competition. There had been some PS kind enough to translate parts of what Kyuu had been saying, which he was thankful for.

“For those of you not eligible for the prize, I haven’t forgotten about you! If you are a winner and you aren’t able to attend the meeting, please let us know if you’ve been chosen. What we will do instead is, when it’s released, send you a signed copy of twentytwenty’s next album. Hopefully this will brighten your days, too. Please do know it won’t be me personally messaging on Instagram, it will be some of our staff so make sure you are extra kind to them.”

For the next few minutes, Kyuu continued talking to the PS in the chat, telling them about his days during the month that had been uncharacteristically quiet for them. When he could he tried to reply to some English comments, in English himself. He told them about his dance cover of La La La and learning with Fantizy’s Yuri, and he promised he’d been resting and eating well. They told him he looks healthy, and the truth is that he kind of does feel it too. As bored as he is, he wakes up feeling refreshed, and goes to sleep feeling content. Not to mention he knew that when he finally went back to work, they would be using his own choreography to promote their comeback. Overall he felt... Content, and he was sure he would feel even better after the competition.

“Okay, I’m so sorry but I need to go! I have plans, but I will hopefully be seeing some of you tomorrow. Goodbye for now, I love you.”

And with his last few hearts to PS, he turned off the v-live, filling with excitement as he thought about the next day.

****************

It was funny to think about, Minkyu wasn’t sure if he’d ever put as much effort into a real date as he had done with the event he was hosting today. Well, he thought that this could be considered a date too, in a sense. He was the Nation’s Boyfriend, inviting someone ( people ) to share in a fully paid for meal with him. Even if it wasn’t a romantic date, it was a similar gesture, and he couldn’t deny the excitement that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach. While it had only been announced yesterday, this is something he’d been planning for much longer.

According to his manager, organizing this with the fans online had been surprisingly easy, and out of the random, lucky PS that were drawn to win, there were about twenty that were unable to attend and were going to be sent signed albums in the future. He was assured they were all very excited to meet him, and they’d been sent a small list of rules to follow. They were simple things like the place and times of the event, not crowding around Kyuu, being courteous of other fans also attending, no video recording, and no intimate actions like asking for kisses or about invasive topics. His manager would be there the whole time, and there would also be security at the door... Just in case. 

While the whole restaurant was booked out for a few hours for them, there was a private room that Kyuu was waiting in until everyone showed up. He knew it would be awkward if he sat there as they trickled in one by one, especially since, as predicted, some of them were showing up early. At one o’clock they were finally let inside, and within minutes all fifteen were seated, with obvious seats vacated for Kyuu and his manager to join them. There were some at either side of the table, so he could try to spread his time between everyone equally. At the very least, there was going to be opportunities for photos and hugs later, so there would be a chance for all the winners to get their own personal experience with him.

The idol could hear the quiet chatter of some PS mingling with each other, excitement so thick in the air you could almost see it. Which, he tried to get a peek out of the private room door, peering out of a crack he’d made. It was about two seconds before the Nation’s Boyfriend was spotted by a keen eyed fan, a gasp escaping from some of the girls at the table who had seen him. 

Peeking his head out of the door a little more, he offered a small finger wave at them, and a quiet greeting of “hi~”. Shyly, they all greeted him back, offering their own waves and versions of hello and thank you. Some of them even began tearing up, hands covering their faces to hide how emotional they were. Once he’d stepped out from the room fully and closed the door behind himself, he offered the fans a bow in a proper greeting. “Hello, I’m Han Minkyu, twentytwenty’s performance leader, it’s nice to meet you~” He was grinning from ear to ear as he spoke, his manager watching close by with a keen eye to make sure everything was going the way it was supposed to. 

“It's my pleasure to invite you here, thank you for coming. I’m so excited to get to know you, and I promise I’m going to find the time to speak with each of you.” As he spoke, he finally made his way over to the vacated seats of the table, bowing once more before he pulled it out to sit down with them. The girl that had been lucky enough to choose the seat next to his looked like she too was about to cry, even more so when he made eye contact with her. The idol asked her for her name, and shook her hand gently with his the sweetest grin imaginable, squeezing her fingers between his own and kindly assuring her he wasn’t worth crying over. But, if she did cry, it was perfectly okay.

Continuing his way around the table and flashing smiles at everyone as he went, he briefly asked them about themselves, leaning forward to show that he was listening intently, and that his entire focus was on them in that moment. It was just a little something to break the ice before their meals arrived and they could ask him questions and speak to him if they so wished. Some of the guests were perfectly fine speaking to him, some of them weren’t, becoming even more emotional when his words were directed at them. 

The next hour or so was... Fun. The questions he was asked were actually well thought out, once the atmosphere had settled down no one else cried, and they were all courteous of him changing seats once their meal was over so that he could spend some time with those at the other end of the table. Plus, there was going to be some sweets after if they wished to indulge. Only the best when you’re on a date with the Nation’s Boyfriend. 

Eventually it was time to start wrapping up, and as sad as Kyuu was about it, he had been looking forward to it. Only because he knew this would be the time where he could spend one on one time with PS. At the end of the day, the hard work he puts in, the late hours and early mornings, and the clothes saturated with sweat after he pours his heart and soul into his practice. It was all for them. To have them look at him with hopeful, bright eyes, telling him that he’d made a difference in their lives. The fame and the money was nice, but that’s what it was really about. It was about them.

Hearing that they cared for him, that they wished for him to stay safe and healthy, and that they were proud of him always hit in a way that was unexpected. Something about hearing it from PS never failed to make his neck and his ears heat up. Almost like it felt intimate. Perhaps, he was craving those words of approval from a loved one more than he thought. 

Now isn’t exactly the time to go into it.

Another of the young girls stepped forward once he was finished saying goodbye to the person before her, leaving her with a selfie of them for a memory of their time together. Opening his arms, he allowed her to embrace him, his body hunching over just a little with the action because of how much shorter than him she is. “Hello, Hyun-mi, isn’t it?” He grinned as he pulled back, taking both of her hands in his own “Thank you so much for entering, and thank you for coming. I hope you had fun. I hope I lived up to your expectations~” The last sentence was spoken with a bright smile and a laugh, clearly a joke. Although, this particular PS had something to say about it.

“Kyuu-oppa, you’ve been very busy. I hope you had enough rest during your break, you really deserve it.” The young woman paused, squeezing his fingers back. “You need to take care of yourself, because all we want is for you to be healthy and happy, and you can’t be those things if you’re exhausted. Please promise you’re not working too hard.” The idol swallowed thickly with the words, another quiet chuckle leaving his lips. It was an attempt to hide the action of breaking eye contact and looking down at his shoes for a moment, trying to brush off what she was saying as if it were something casual, and not like the words were digging into his core like knives. 

The sentiment that health and happiness is more important than success and perfection is still a concept that’s foreign to Kyuu. His entire life it's been forced upon him, if you don’t succeed then you’ve wasted your time, and you simply didn’t try hard enough. Anything can be achieved with hard work, determination, and talent. The idol prided himself on having all three of those attributes. So, if he isn’t perfect, who’s fault was it really? If he’d practiced longer and harder, perhaps he would have been better. Perhaps he would have been the leader and not the performance leader. Perhaps he wouldn’t be stuck in a group with twelve other boys, overshadowed and constantly fighting for the spotlight.

The doubts in his mind can sometimes be debilitating, words echoing through his head with the voice of his mother. There were often times where he didn’t want to get out of bed, he just wanted to sleep for another hour and enjoy the comfort and warmth before he headed outside to their practice room. Again and again, day after day. 

As miserable and drained as he often felt, it was his job to assure her of the exact opposite.

“Thank you so much for caring about me, I truly appreciate it,” the Nation’s Boyfriend responded in a soft tone, a hand coming up to gently cup the side of Hyun-mi’s cheek as he once again looked into her eyes. “I promise you I have been resting well.” He hadn’t. “And I promise you I am eating well, and that I am very happy.” He isn’t. “Being with you all today has made sure of that. PS, people like you, have filled me with enough happiness to last a life time. As long as I have you all cheering for me, everything I do is worth it.” Perhaps, that part was somewhat true.

Another hug was exchanged along with a selfie, and if you squinted you could possibly see the way his watery eyes glistened with the lights from the restaurant. Some would say they were sparkling because he was so handsome. Kyuu knew better than that.

More thank yous and goodbyes were given, the twentytwenty member consoling some fans who were becoming upset once again. Before he knew it, it was over. The restaurant staff were moving the tables and chairs back to their rightful homes, and his manager was telling him it’s time to go. After a thank you to all the staff that served them that day, Kyuu gathered his things and did as he was told, getting into the car that was waiting for them outside. 

If anyone asked, it had been a fun, lighthearted day, a way to give back to some fans with some of his spare time. In reality, he knew it was going to keep him awake at night, causing him to stare into the dark abyss of his room, thinking over and over again about the kind words he’d heard today, and the way he would cling to them for dear life whenever he started to doubt if this was worth it.

Han Minkyu had organised a special day to give back to PS, but maybe he was the person who needed it the most.

[vldaera]

task .002—

with special thanks for, and featuring, @vldareum​—

JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager yes ys i kniw JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager ill addition 4 fanny pack outing later :P JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager i’m bussy rite now tho ;)  it’ areum time MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Busy doing what?! What’s Areum time?! JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager s MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera TT MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera, why did you send a winky face? Is Areum okay? MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera please I do not have time for this you are so aggravating JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager ;) ;) ;_   MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera!!

Aera’s not so mean that she leaves their manager on delivered when she knows she’s probably gonna bust a nerve; no, she chooses to leave her on open, instead, so she knows she’s at least alive. Because for tonight, she has planning to do.

Phase One of Operation: Surprise the Socks Off Areum is long since over and was a huge success. Phase One is the simplest part: text Areum to come over tonight for another Star Wars marathon. They never got to the sequels.

Phase Two is the thick of it: cook a fancy dinner fit for a princess, hire a masseuse to pamper both of them in— ahem— Aera’s brand new(!) apartment, turn on absolutely any movie of Areum’s choice, give each other mani/pedis, and then end the night with giving her sister a woven bracelet that Aera personally made for Areum herself.

Phase Three: catalogue every second of it on her phone and watch the look on her sister’s face.

Ha. And Areum thinks it’s just going to be Star Wars.

It’s a bit of a thank you, in a way, for her sister to know that Aera really appreciates her, and also to let her know that Aera’s doing just fine, thank you very much, living alone. Sure, it gets lonely sometimes, but besides Areum, Naeun comes over! And Saeun! And Hamin! And... that’s pretty much it...

Clowns! One time Aera hired a clown to come and entertain her while she cried on the sofa over a stupid romantic comedy. It was sorta funny to watch how obviously uncomfortable the clown was ‘cause she paid him double to leave a kid’s party early to keep her company. He wasn’t expecting one of the members of one of the nation’s top girl groups to be sprawled out on the floor with a bottle of wine, she doesn’t think, but whatever. As you can see, she’s having the time of her life.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Step One of Phase Two (that’s right, she’s that organized) is to go figure out what to eat. After their excursion to Tokyo, she’s thinking some miso broth ramen and spicy tuna rolls, so she makes a quick stop by the market to go pick up some seaweed and fish. She has a plan and everything; she’s gonna cut up some seaweed to say “I Love You, Areum!” and stick it in the broth like alphabet soup. It’s gonna be so cute—

Hey, what’s that? Bunnies for adoption??!! Ohmigod no way!!!

Aera hasn’t ever whipped a car into a parking lot so fast. Ten minutes and 40,000 KRW later, she drives home with a bag full of seaweed and fish and the newest addition to the family, John Brad Crumb. She’s pulling away when she realizes 1) she made a HUGE typo on the iPad, 2) both “John Brad Crumb Jeon” and “Jeon John Brad Crumb” are stupid names, and 3), though it came with the intention of paying homage to her fans, with Aera’s Earthshine nickname being John Area, she’s effectively just named a rabbit after herself.

But hey, the adoption certificate says John Brad Crumb, so that’s what he is.

She pulls into her apartment and the elevator dings to the top floor. It’s only recently that she managed to unpack, so she unloads all the groceries into the fridge and puts the rice in the cooker, then gets to work dedicating a sizable corner of her living room for John Brad Crumb. One could call it John’s area.

One thing to note about Aera is that what can go wrong, will go wrong, but it’ll go wrong with a flourish and probably fireworks, too. The cage is actually pretty well set up, and she wants to do this cute thing where she gives Areum her bracelet by wrapping it around John Brad Crumb’s neck like a collar, and she’s in the middle of doing so when she smells something. Umm... what’s burning?

She rushes to the kitchen and smacks her head when she realizes that she forgot to put water in the rice. Now what?

Aera stands there for at least a full solid minute watching the rice as she wonders what her reaction should be. She wonders if it’ll catch fire.

Um, duh.

Fortunately, she keeps a Brita filter in the fridge, and so she begins pouring water on the flames. Really she lucked out, because she manages to put the fire out without the help of the fire department, but her rice cooker is, like, totaled. That’s fine! She’s adaptive. Instead, she decides to cook it manually. She definitely won’t forget the water this time, she thinks smugly as she fills the water almost to the top of the pot. After adding the rice, she returns to the living room...

...only to find that John Brad Crumb has all but gnawed the bracelet to pieces.

“John Brad Crumb-ah! Are you serious?! You are so unaware.”

She lifts the bunny and picks the dangling threads from his mouth, pouting as she witnesses the shreds of what she made with such love and care. Luckily for Aera (and also for John Brad Crumb, whom she’ll forgive eventually because he already means the world to her), it seems to be salvageable? Maybe?

John Brad Crumb fits in the front pocket of her hoodie, so she puts him and some rabbit food in there and returns to the kitchen where the rice has, obviously, boiled over. Cursing, Aera cleans up the mess and tastes the rice that was saved. Well... it’s not bad.

Putting the ramen to a boil, she checks the clock and sees that she’s got a little over an hour before Areum’s supposed to arrive. She fortunately had the hindsight to buy pre-made tare and simmer the broth this morning, so it’s not like she has to simmer things for three hours. but it’s still kinda crunch time.

You know what she just realized? She totally forgot to buy one of those bamboo rolling mats. Printer paper should work... right?

“Let’s do this, John Brad Crumb-ah. For Areummie!”

HHHHHHHHHH OHHHHHH MY GOD ROLLING SUSHI IS SO HARD is what she’d say if there was anyone around to hear her, but there’s not. It’s written clearly across her face, though. The rice is too mushy and also the printer paper keeps falling apart, so it’s kinda... papery rice? Wrapped in nori? Yuck.

It’s kind of a disaster, so she decides that it doesn’t have to be pretty and abandons the paper in favor of trying to hand roll the sushi, which naturally doesn’t work as the sushi falls apart. The result is, like, this weird sushi salad thing that honestly works in the same way that a poke bowl does. Whatever; it’ll have to do. Twenty minutes till Areum gets here.

Turning around, she spoons some noodles into a pot and tastes the broth that she made. Okay, what...? That’s actually super good. Pleased with herself, she dumps in the sauce. But again, this is Aera, and what goes wrong is that, facepalming, she realizes that what she thought was chicken sauce was actually chocolate sauce... ugh...

The whole thing has to be tossed now, so Aera does so quickly and checks the clock. Ten minutes till Areum gets here.

In a last-ditch effort, she throws some instant ramen on the stove and bounds into the kitchen to comb out and rebraid Areum’s bracelet, when her phone pings.

SEOUL THERAPEUTICS ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Jeon Aera-ssi, this is Kim Daeho, owner/operator of Seoul Therapeutics. I am texting to inform you that your masseuse has fallen ill and will be unable to arrive tonight—

(Somewhere, on the other side of town, Kim Daeho, owner/operator of Seoul Therapeutics, feels a chill run down his spine.)

—and, as all other masseurs are booked, I have issued a refund to your account. We apologize for the inconvenience.

Well, she tried. She really did. Sorry, Areum, she really wanted to throw you a big thank-you dinner, but turns out Aera’s actually going into hermitage instead. Would you like to come visit her cave? Oh, please do make yourself at home, don’t mind those scorpions crawling on her bed made out of twigs and sadness...

She stands in the kitchen, contemplating the best mountain beneath which to move all her things, before deciding that she just moved and it would be too much of an inconvenience. The weird chocolate ramen is in the trash. That salad thing is on the counter. The movies aren’t rented, the nail polish isn’t bought, and the bracelet is wearable, but ugly. The instant ramen is literally what they ate everyday for years, and also the weight of John Brad Crumb on her hoodie is starting to hurt her neck. One minute until Areum—

Ding dong!

“Gah! John Brad Crumb-ah, we can’t let her see us like this!”

With a certain kind of determination that only Jeon Aera possesses, she decides to make her grand escape. But the reason it’s Jeon Aera name-brand determination is because it wouldn’t be Aera’s if it wasn’t tinted with just a little bit of recklessness, ‘cause in her attempt to escape the embarrassment, she tries to escape out the front door, where Areum is standing.

“Areummie!”

Her face flushes bright red and she wonders what Areum thinks of the sight before her: Aera, in a hoodie, with a rabbit in her pocket and a ratty bracelet in her hand, covered in chocolate stains and mushy rice and her hair falling out of her bun.

It’s then that she realizes that she probably does know what Areum’s thinking, and that’s why she loves her twin so much in the first place. There’s no one else she’d rather go on this adventure with. No one else would so easily deal with her. Of course her sister wouldn’t judge her for the disaster that was Aera’s poorly planned surprise. Just seeing Areum makes the embarrassment wash away, and Aera gives her a smile. Thanks for being there for me. Thanks for smiling when I’m ditzy instead of rolling your eyes. Thanks for supporting me through thick and thin. Thanks for being the best sister a girl could ask for.

“Thanks for coming, Areummie. Let’s order in some takeout. I’ve got the craziest story to tell you.”

[jiyongvld]

                                                  ❝  how do you forgive the man who                                                               slashed your wings                                                       with the sword you gifted him ?

                                                            the gods chased us                                                             from their heavens,                                                          banished at the source. ❞

word count: 557 what: jiyong gives himself a haircut as a reminder that he has been freed — specifically from the family that pushed him away, and evidently towards where he is now. trigger warnings: (mention of) death, mention of blood

To look a devil in the eyes was to admit that Hell was real.

Stuck, twisted in the lies and woes and faltering smiles — slipping memories that painted a past colored in disagreement and disdain, of disappointment and disapproval that rose its head like a cobra prepared to strike. Slick with venom, its fangs would meet his flesh, injecting the very poisons he had worked his entire adult life to craft the anti-venom for, the antidote that still slipped through his fingers and out of reach.

Hate was a bitter bitch with a crooked smile and lazy eye that only kept watch on his wrongdoings, seemingly unable to turn Her gaze towards the successes that now outweighed the unsightly scar in his side. The wound was true, a physical reminder that he had given a part of himself to someone else, only to have it fail him — to reject its sole purpose in this world.

Death was a cruel mistress, cloaked in black and hiding around each corner, just a fingertip’s brush away the closer he drew. She was quick, spry even despite having been around since the beginning of time. She took what She wanted, and wanted what She took. They said She was at least careful with those She claimed, keeping them close and warm... but with the blood no longer in their veins, from where did their warmth generate?

It was these two sister — bound and bonded in mutual understanding — that he found his way forward. Family — some forgotten, some frozen six feet under — was all he had to thank for where he now found himself, a wavering smile as he’d bowed to the producers in the studio earlier that day. Without the familial burning of disrespect and writhing disdain, he would have never been pushed to leave home, to hack into medical records, to travel to Seoul in search of a life better than the one he had attempted to (quite literally) carve out for himself.

Knuckles white with lack of blood flow as he clutches a pair of scissors, dark, endless eyes staring back at him in the bathroom mirror. It was too early, too late to think of these things, to surrender himself to the fact that he was a ship on a river, forever destined to drift alone...

And so alone he would drift — snip forever patching the holes in his hull — snip keeping his heart and soul safe — snip from restless waters and sempiternal darks — snip Alone. Together.

Bleach out the bad, strike out the gray matters.

Be bold, be reborn, be blessed, be possessed.

Remember to dance, remember to thank, remember to bow once — now once more; lower this time.

Remember: You’re thankful.

Thankful to be here, to be aware, to hold the scissors in your hands, to reclaim your own body, your own mind, your own soul.

Remember who sent you here: A father who never truly loved, a mother who never understood how, a sister who turned her back on you, a brother who left before he wished.

Remember... this isn’t permanent.

This state of mind, the bleach in your hair, the dye on your hands.

It’ll sting, but soon you’ll be just fine.

And that scar on your side?

Remember who sent you here.

[leonvld]

habits .

task 2.

title from day6 4am’s debut album

what: jiwon performs 4am’s new discography in front of people who aren’t 4am/staff for the first time, and it’s for his parents.

warnings: n/a.

word count: 800+

it’s a line from a song he had written on the day he had been selected for 4am’s lineup, three years ago—

                         love is falling asleep on the train / trusting it’ll take you home

—and this is where we find our hero, cheek pressed against the cold window and the falling of his newly-bleached hair curtaining him from the rest of the world. the dream is something he’ll forget in the muted minutes after coming to full wake, despite trying with the palms of his mind to grasp and hold it tight. he fades from one world to the next softly, the gentle encouragement of a voice and a light tap on his shoulder breaking the last illusions of sleep.

he stirs awake at the touch, and then almost falls forward into the lap of the woman sitting in front of him as the train lurches to the stop. jiwon apologizes profusely, his voice still weighted with sleep, anchored at the ankles. the stranger’s daughter snickers at him, likely laughing at the tuft of dandelion fluff still sticking up on one side of his head and the pink mark on his cheek from where it kissed the window for the past hour.

“don’t worry about it, sir,” the woman says kindly. the tired, warm look in her eyes reminds him of that of his own mother, and he has to swallow around a lump in his throat. he feels like an idiot—missing someone he knows he’ll see in the next hour. “you looked like you needed the sleep.”

//

the light is on in the kitchen when he enters the apartment, and he gently leans the gig bag containing his acoustic guitar against the wall as he toes off his shoes by the entryway.

his mother exits the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hands, a blue apron tied tightly around her waist. her hair's rumpled and loose around her shoulders; she looks younger than her half-century, almost girlish. she looks up at him, taking in his clothes and general state of disarray.

“ hi, eomma. ”

" this is a surprise, " she says quietly. he lets her touch his cheek and study his face, her thumb smoothing across his skin. she grazes her fingers through his hair. “ the hair — is also a surprise. ”

“ good, it was supposed to be a surprise. ” he reaches a hand out, and she takes it. “ is appa home ? ” he asks, hitching his gig bag onto one shoulder. 

her thumb traces small circles across the back of his hand. " he's grading papers; you know how he gets. he probably hasn't even noticed that someone's entered the house. " she pulls her son closer, into an embrace. " i can get him, just give me a minute. " 

" i can get him, " jiwon murmurs. he presses his face into his mother's shoulder, lets her arms go around him. he closes his eyes. " eomma… " 

" is something wrong ? " she asks immediately. he hates how she expects the worst, but they both remember how much he cried the day he had to come home after everest’s disbandment — neither of them are under any illusion about how temperamental the music industry can be. not anymore.

" no, everything's fine. i just missed you. " he kisses her temple, then steps away. " i'm going to get appa, hold on. i want you both to be here for this. "

//

they’re silent as jiwon rummages through his bag, waiting patiently while he tunes the guitar and places his capo on the first fret, hands shaking. but with the first strum of the strings his eyes close, and he lets his voice fill their small living room. he goes through the tracklist. freely, out of my mind, congratulations, habits. his voice gains strength as he begins each new song, and starts to trust again that his fingers knows exactly where to go without him needing to force them.

his eyes splash open when he hears an unmistakable sound, that warm smile of his wavering when he says: “ appa, are you crying ? ”

there’s a pull to his father’s shoulders, drawing them back and his spine up — it’s growth, a flower picking itself up once more after being trampled. jiwon can see from where he’s sitting across from them how tightly his father’s squeezing his mother’s hand. his eyes trail up her arm to see his mother’s face, also wet with tears.

“ ah, please don’t cry — ” he tries to joke: this is supposed to be an upbeat song. there are synths and everything. but his throat closes up and only the first few words manage to escape into the open air. he lets go of the neck of the guitar to press his knuckles to his mouth, blinks back wetness. he's so tired of holding it back. 

he takes in a slow, uneven breath.

“ jiwon-ah, come over here. ”

the tears spill over and he wipes at his face, nods, clears his throat, laughs — hapless, impossibly happy and sad all at once.

“ okay. ”

[vldhyunjae]

task 2 : a fine spring day

it was very unlikely of han hyunjae to come home to their childhood home, especially on the promised sunday family days. to everyone's surprise, he shows up, flowers and cake at hand, and willingly went inside to join the family for dinner. he was not stupid -- or deaf, so he knew the shock his appearance brought. he could hear his step mom and sister-in-law's whispers in the kitchen and how it stopped abruptly as soon as he volunteered to help prepare the food. they were kind enough (and perhaps caught off guard that he showed up after countless times of having rejected their calls) to let him do as he pleased. he wouldn't have thrown a fit if they insisted on doing it themselves -- even if he practically lived in this kitchen when he was still living there.

"how is it working for summit media, it's summit media, right?" his brother's words pulls him back from his silence. he looks up from the small bubble he created around himself, letting only his twin nieces for short adorable conversations. hyunjae hums, nodding as he takes a sip of water, "yes, it is. it's been great... more hours logged in the studio." he replies with a small smile. his friendly response and equally harmless expression shocks his brother too. after all, for years, he had nothing but snarky remarks and sarcastic rebuttals.

"weren't you planning to become an idol?" his step mom adds, hesitant but clearly trying her best. hyunjae could tell everyone was holding their breath; his eyes looking from his dad and then his brother. if this was a dinner he attended a year ago, everyone on this table had every reason to be afraid of her speaking up and talking to him. but han hyunjae is in a much better place now. he had learned to forgive himself for all the things he did and didn't do, and in turn, he had learned to forgive others too. "i was.." he replies with an amused smile, "but i don't think i'd be a very good one. i'm not good with people. i mean, i could be... but i'm not fond of crowds. i like my circle... small." the charming han hyunjae that only ever made appearances outside the confides of their household was sitting there in that dinning room table, and he had just made the whole table smile. "small but meaningful," his brother adds, raising a glass.

at the end of it all, hyunjae had to admit that he was looking forward to next weekend. "the food was great..." she tells his stepmom as he helped clear the table. but perhaps he had reached the limit of interacting because he was not prepared to console the happy tears that were forming in her eyes so he makes an excuse of needing to pick up yejun. his dad, too, does something he has never done in their years of living together -- at least, not since his mom was still alive. he walks him out and gives him a manly hug, a lingering one. "thank you for believing in me, dad." it's been long since he had spoken any of those words that both of them stiffen and broke the hug awkwardly.

his dad smiles at him though, nods his head an ruffles his hair. "thank you for not giving up, and waiting for me to come back."

[pyungvld]

𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊 #𝟸 | 𝚃𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝟸

word count: 1024

including : park bohui ( childhood friend ) , mrs park , honggyu

tw : depression

summary : pyung writes a letter to his friend

pyung gave up a lot when he packed his bag and moved to seoul. his life wasn’t perfect, but it was his. he had made it bearable. he never saw his brothers. and he had to learn to cope with them not being available 24/7. he hasn’t seen them in a couple years. but he would see them eventually. his friends from high school however were nowhere to be found.

his biggest regret is leaving his friends behind. the very people who made his dream possible. if it wasn’t for them he wouldn’t be where he is now. an idol. not that it made him happy. but for the people around him he would pretend.

but one friend stood out. so when he was asked to give a gift to someone important to him he knew who was going to choose them. he just had to find where they ended up. some he kept in contact. he had there numbers and their new address. something they sent to him in the beginning. the friend he had in mind he would have to search for. his first call was to his brothers.

“hyung.” he said as the other picked up.

“what do you want hwapyung?” he knows honggyu is tired. he can hear it in his voice.

“ sorry to bother you hyung, but i was wondering if you still had bohui hyungs parents number. i need to ask them something.”

“yeah sure.” he said from the other line while pyung could here the shuffling of papers in the background. after a long pause his brother recited the number.

“thanks hyung.” he said smiling. “love you. sleep tight.” he said before hanging up.

he dialed the number he jotting down on a sheet paper now sitting on his desk.

“hey mrs. park. this is hwapyung. bohui’s friend. i just wanted to get his new address. we haven’t seen each other in a while. and i wanted to send him something.”

“hello pyung. i can help you out.” she said with a smile he could hear through the phone. he jotted the address on the same paper he wrote  the number on that he still had lying on his desk. after getting the address he caught up with mrs. park telling her of his debut and his group. she sounded proud on the other line. if he was honest she was like a second mother. or his only mother. his birth mother didn’t deserve the title. when he wasn’t with his brother he was at the park residence.

“thank you mrs. park.” he said after talking on the phone with her for 30 minutes. i promise i’ll see you soon.” he didn’t know how true that statement really was. he couldn’t stand in front of the women who treated him like her own child, and lie to her face. especially when his happiness was concerned. 

he pulled out a sheet paper from the drawer in his desk and started writing.

dear hyung,

i’m sorry for abandoning you all those years ago. i was caught up in training and in the process lost sight of who truly mattered. i’m grateful for all that you’ve done for me. you mean more to me than you will probably ever know. your everything i never knew i needed. someone who did everything in their power to make me feel loved. when my hyungs weren’t there you were. and your family was a symbol of what I wish I had. and i cherished every moment i spent with them.

it’s because of you that i’m where i’m at. I would have never had the guts to audition and you're the one who threw me out there. and let’s not forget you’re the reason i started rapping. i’ll never forget that day laying in your room. blckspdr started playing over the speaker. it was an outlet that I needed. from then I was never the same.

but sending in that audition tape also changed my life.  i was like a train with no wheels waiting to crash. something that you seemed ready to do every chance you got.

i hope to see you again one day. but i couldn’t lie to your face and say i’m happy. my career has sucked my life out of me and I have no idea where to go from here. i’m tired. so tired.

so i’m sorry for abandoning you. and dieing on the inside in the process.

he folded the letter and stuffed it in his pocket. he got out another piece of paper and wrote the letter again.

dear hyung,

i’m sorry we haven’t talked in years.  i’ve just been busy with my career. but i want to tell you how grateful i am for all that you’ve done for me. you mean more to me than you will probably ever know. your everything i never knew i needed. someone who did everything in their power to make me feel loved. when my hyungs weren’t there you were. and your family was a symbol of what I wish I had. and i cherished every moment i spent with them.

it’s because of you that i’m where i’m at. i would have never had the guts to audition and you're the one who threw me out there. and let’s not forget you’re the reason i started rapping. i’ll never forget that day laying in your room. blckspdr started playing over the speaker. it was an outlet that I needed. from then on i was never the same.

i hope to see you again one day.

he folded the letter and placed it in the envelope before writing the new address on the envelope. he got up from his seat and walked to the door getting a coat on and putting a hat and mask on to cover his face. he walked out the door and headed to the post office. he dropped it off before making his way to the han river. he stood on the bridge and pulled out the letter in his pocket. he tore it up and dropped it into the water watching it hit the surface before sinking under. he watched the surface while the paper sunk before heading back to the dorm.