#going to try making egg drop soup this week

[itsasilentreader]

♬⋆.˚ 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬 ― 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: idol!Jisung x GN!reader, established relationship

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: fluff

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.5k — 10 𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙

𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: burned food, thats it

𝘼/𝙉: This was requested! I loved to write this one because this is inspired by something I did a few weeks ago. I tried to surprise my bf with cooking so he didn't have to do all the work but I failed, big time :') Hopefully, you'll enjoy it!

⤷ 𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘑𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘺 (𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨).

⋮ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗛𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗷𝗶𝗻'𝘀 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 | 𝗝𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴'𝘀 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

Jisung was tired. He just wanted to go home, cuddle with you on the couch or in bed, and watch Spirited Away. Comeback season was upon them, and he still wanted to spend as much free time with you as possible before he got too busy. After a few years together, you were used to him being so busy during comeback season, but you still wanted to make the most of the free time you had together before and during this time.

Jisung loved that about you. You knew how busy he could get because of his career. The long days, touring, and comeback stages were a part of his job and his life. Sometimes he wouldn’t come home to sleep. He would just sleep in the studio and continue the next day. You did express to him that you thought it was unhealthy to stay in his workspace for so long without having a break. And you meant really have a break. Closing your eyes for a few hours in the studio, waking up, and going straight back at it didn’t count.

You didn’t want him to overwork himself and at least come home in the evenings. Your shared apartment was only 15 minutes from the studio, so it wasn’t even a long commute home. You managed to talk him into coming home to sleep, even if it was in the middle of the night, so he could sleep in an actual bed with you and rest.

If he had an early morning and you had time, you’d wake up with him and make him breakfast while he got ready. You’d eat your breakfast together before he would leave for the day. This way, you’d still spend some time together. Other times, you would order takeout for him and his members. You’d bring it to him and eat with them. If they were really busy or behind schedule, you’d drop it off with a kiss and just eat your dinner at home.

Sometimes he wondered why you hadn’t left him yet. During comeback seasons, he was just so busy, he barely had time for you and your relationship. However, he found it difficult to communicate it when those feelings surfaced. He was scared you would realize you deserved better and leave him.

“You let me know that you are too busy and stressed to do anything with me. I know it has nothing to do with me and this is what your job requires of you. Yes, it is hard sometimes, and I miss you at times like that, but I love you too much to just give this up. I know that if the roles were reversed, you would support me and my dreams too,” you had said when he gathered the courage to address this to you.

After saying goodbye to the members, he quickly grabbed his stuff and went on his way home. During the day, you’d texted him that you’d be in charge of dinner tonight to surprise him. It brought a smile to Jisung’s face but also some concern. He knew you weren’t the best at cooking; that’s why you brought him and his members takeout on busy days instead of home-cooked meals. You could make simple things like scrambled eggs and warm up some soup, but that was about it.

It’s the thought that counts, Jisung told himself. He didn’t want to discourage you from trying new things, like trying new recipes. He texted you he was on his way home and couldn’t wait to see you. Putting his phone back in his pocket, he put on his headphones and went on his way.

Upon arrival at your shared apartment, he could hear your voice vaguely through the front door. He chuckled to himself and entered the home. Your voice echoed through the hallway, trying to rap Jisung’s part in a song of his you’d put on. By no means were you a rapper, but he could hear you having fun and moving around in the kitchen.

He quietly trekked to the kitchen to see you in action. You were moving to the beat of the music that was playing through the speakers in one of his oversized shirts. This was one of Jisung’s favorite sights: you being carefree and having fun, even if you were alone.

You cut up the ingredients before adding them to the pot on the stove. You grabbed your phone that was lying on the counter to read the next step of the recipe. While your back was turned to the doorway, you hadn’t noticed Jisung standing there leaning on the doorframe with crossed arms and admiring you.

In the most terrible pitch ever, you started rapping along with the music again. You added seasoning to the ingredients on the stove and read the next step again. Unbeknownst to you, the gas stove was on way too high and the food in the pan was slowly beginning to burn.

The burnt smell flowed through the kitchen and reached Jisung. He frowned and uncrossed his arms. You still hadn’t noticed he had come in and you definitely didn’t notice that the food was burning. Jisung reached out to you, and before he could tap your shoulder, you turned around.

You shrieked out in horror and dropped the cutting board with vegetables from your hands. Your hand clutched your chest as you recovered from your scare. “Ji, what the hell?! You scared me.” You let out a breath, and Jisung chuckled at your reaction. Before he could tell you, you already smelled the burned food. “Oh my god, no, I burned it!”

You rushed over to the pan and turned off the stove. A lot of smoke was already coming from the pan and filling the kitchen. The hood above the stove apparently wasn’t strong enough. Cursing and whining, you got the hot pan off the stove and threw away the burned food. You placed the pan back on the stove to cool off and turned around with a pout.

Jisung had to hold back his laughter when he saw your pouty expression. He opened his arms, and you immediately rushed forward to wrap your arms around him. Still chuckling, he gave you a kiss on top of your head and hugged you tight. “For once, I just wanted to surprise you with your favorite food, but I can’t even do that...” you huffed out against him. Pulling back slightly, Jisung looked at your face. He could tell by your eyes that you were frustrated with the situation. He pecked your lips before speaking up, “Don’t worry about it, baby. We’ll cook something else together.”

“Or…” you dragged out while your pout turned into a sheepish smile. “We can order takeout?” How could he say no to your adorable face? He nodded, “We’ll order takeout, less fuss after your little accident.”

Your eyes narrowed and you gave him a pointed look. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, babe. It’s the thought that counts, and I love that you tried cooking for me.” He smiled at you. “Nice save, Ji, you’re lucky I love you.” You huffed out, and Jisung let out a laugh at your reaction. Stepping out of his embrace, you cleaned up the mess you made and grabbed your phone off the counter. “You go and change; I’ll order takeout for us. Pizza?” you asked as you ushered him out of the kitchen. Jisung replied with a ‘yes please’ while walking down the hall to your bedroom to change.

You let out a groan when sitting down on the couch. This was not how it was supposed to go tonight. You just wanted to surprise Jisung with his favorite food, go to the convenience store together to get the cheesecake slices he loves, and watch some Studio Ghibli movies. I guess you can still go out for dessert or order it with your takeout.

As Jisung came back into the living room, you placed your order (with desserts). Setting down your phone, Jisung cuddled up next to you on the couch. While he was trying to find the most comfortable position, your hand ran softly through his hair. Passing the remote to Jisung, he put on Spirited Away and went straight back to enjoying the feeling of your hands in his hair.

After a while, your pizza arrived and you started to dig in. Halfway through the movie, Jisung turned to you with a soft smile on his face. His boba eyes admired you from the side as he soaked up this moment with you. Such a small and simple gesture meant the world to him.

“I know this is not how you’d hoped the evening would turn out, but I appreciate you looking after me,” Jisung spoke, his voice filled with warmth and love. You turned your face to him, mid-bite. Quickly swallowing your bite and almost choking on it, you returned his soft smile. “Anything for you, my love.”

He gave you a soft kiss before turning his attention back to the TV and his pizza. Jisung was content. He had everything he’d ever wanted: a career he’d always dreamed of and he had you.

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

Ⓒ︎ 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

[shveris]

collage au with toji, sukuna and satoru living together and it’s surprisingly clean and well kept.

mention of emotional & physical abuse from family members and trauma

toji is the most messy out of the three but sukuna hates dirt so when he finds it he cleans it. satoru is a perfectionist who grew up in a tidy mansion so he always has the need and urge to keep his new environment just as clean — he feels very uncomfortable and restless otherwise.

they fuck around once in a while (yes, literal fucking) but it’s mainly because none of them have the actual mental to have proper relationships and despite satoru’s very extroverted behaviour, he actually hates touching people. he thinks they’re dirty, unsanitary, because he doesn’t know how they live and what their hands and clothes have been touching.

sukuna is clean though, he knows because he regularly buys those very expensive bodywashes and puts all their underwear into another cycle just after the first one is done.

toji is clean since he is kinda trained to adapt to his environment. he eventually even stops punching sukuna when he tries to put lotion on his very dry face after a scorching hot shower and he starts washing his hands when he comes home.

they don’t talk about how all of them have sex with each other at least twice a week — trice, if there’s exam stress — and usually the apartment is filled with bickering.

“six, you told me you’d send me that fucking report an hour ago.” satoru just stares at toji in his doorway and clicks his tongue because, yes, he completely forgot.

“have some fucking manners, dude”, he snaps back but sends him the report. they got thrown into this group project for three months with this emo named choso and a guy named ino, not that any of them gave a fuck. they were just laughing at sukuna because he was stuck with four women staring down at him.

there’re also regular outbursts of sukuna throwing items around — at satoru and toji as well — because he feels threatened. by what? they don’t know. they don’t ask. they just go with it and make a game out of it.

“if one of you hits my face i will actually chop your dicks off” is usually what satoru enters the living room with but when the tv remote slams into his jaw ten minutes later, he can’t help but laugh menacingly and throws himself onto the culprit elbow first.

their evenings are filled with study sessions (sukuna and satoru take their academics very serious and toji is just sitting there because he enjoys watching their facial expressions contort into frustrated confusion), playing video games, sex, uno that almost always ends up with sukuna and toji trying to kill each other, bad horror movies that make sukuna hungry, and some times they’re actually peacefully talking with each other until satoru falls asleep.

almost everyone on campus thinks they are dating and neither of them have an issue with that rumor (“it keeps the weird chicks away” sukuna had said and toji rolled his eyes). they don’t even act like couples, more like competitive boxers with too much testosterone (shoko’s words).

even with sukuna’s constant berates, insults and slurs, he loves cooking and always looks for a chance to brag about it to satoru.

“i bet your private chefs at home ain’t shit in comparison to me” or “the michelin chefs your parents are friends with can only wish to be at my level” or “this is my first time cooking this recipe and i fucking rocked it”

toji doesn’t mind at all, he loves all kinds of food, he’s the opposite of picky. whenever there’s something on satoru’s plate that he doesn’t like, he gives it to toji who will happily eat it for him.

sukuna even makes an effort to learn the recipes to his roommate’s favourite foods, perfects them in a few weeks. making mochi was probably way too much effort but he feels very proud whenever satoru brightens up upon eating the sweet treats. he’s glad toji is on the easier side of all this, the man loves chinese food a lot; dumplings, egg drop soup, lamb skewers and some simple noodle dishes.

toji doesn’t look like it but he enjoys the other two men’s company a lot. they never judge him for who he is, they never expect him to be a certain way, and not once did they ask why on some nights he comes home covered in blood. they just tell him to clean up properly and throw his clothes into the washer for three circles. they don’t ask him why he has that scar on his lips or nag him about that massive one that wraps around the left side of his body.

satoru is curious, his eyes speak volumes, but he never says nothing about it and just traces the tissue with his fingertips after sex. sukuna doesn’t even seem to acknowledge it at all, ignores it almost, but he always tells him to apply more lotion to it after scorching showers together.

grocery runs with them are always a complete mess; satoru only has eyes for sweets, toji grabs the next best instant ramen from the shelves, sukuna is constantly scolding them for not eating more healthy, says both of them would have vitamin deficiency if it weren’t for him.

he absolutely hates going out with them to the store but it’s necessary in a way. it’s a way of bonding, they get to buy everything they need once a week and then don’t have to go there for another seven days, and it makes cooking plans easier — and satoru is there to pay because he’s rich and the other two ain’t.

they also always end up buying a few packs of condoms and lube, much to the cashier’s horrors upon reading “extra large” and “strawberry flavoured”

sukuna and toji are rough, absolutely and utterly wild. satoru often calls sukuna an animal with no other instincts than to bite and breed and tear him inside out whereas toji just always knows how and when to abuse his prostate in the weirdest positions — satoru now has to stretch everyday to keep his limbs flexible.

when toji and sukuna fuck, the bedroom turns into a warzone. there’s bite and scratch marks everywhere on their bodies and when sukuna finally gives in and bottoms, neither of them actually make an effort to stretch him. never goes well. sukuna actually cries but he loves pain so it’s okay because satoru gives toji a really big scolding after and then both of them try to somewhat take care of him.

which also never goes well because all three of them never had good experiences with physical touch, nor do they know how to take care of someone else or themselves.

toji was barely holding himself together after graduation high school, having started some heavy drugs when he was sixteen and he never really grew out of it for years because of his fucked up family or his even more fucked up friends.

satoru was homeschooled, had no friends, didn’t know anyone his age — he had no concept of social life, of interpersonal relationships, pop culture. his face never showed any emotions because he just didn’t feel nothing, he felt hollow. nothing in his life brought him joy. his own mother barely paid any attention to him and when she did, there was nothing but hatred in her words.

sukuna grew up with a mother that had fun torturing him, may it be emotionally or physically. when he was younger, still an only child and his father too busy with work, she’s used him to press out her cigarettes, told him to stay still and then watched his face with great interest. there’s a long list of things that he had to endure and he hates remembering it.

they don’t know how they found each other.

i will deffo write more for this au bc i miss toji and satoru terribly

[lumosinlove]

Last minute decision to do @oknutzyweek2023 because FUN!! Decided to add a little twist.

So: O’Knutzy Week (Taylor’s Version)

Day One: Summer Vacation (all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing)

Two times Logan had a cold and was a BABY about it.

Harvard

There was a flood warning. The whole locker room’s phones blared to attention at once. Finn saw the coaches frowning. Someone flipped the news on. The roads were gone, frigid wind rising from the spray of cars passing through puddles that were as good as small lakes. Blurry red lights and reporters barely hanging onto their umbrellas, sleet stinging their eyes.

Finn caught Percy’s eye and could almost taste it in the wink Percy dropped him. There was no way they were making it to this game.

Max slapped him on the back, short light brown hair sticking up in every direction from his post-practice shower. “Looks like we won’t be line mates after all, Captain.”

Finn sent him a half-smile. “Hm? Oh, yeah, man. Another time.”

It wasn’t good. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t anything he was proud of, but the idea of going on a roadie without Logan had been enough to get Finn down for days. A strange ache huddled in his chest, confusing him until he remembered the sight of Logan, feverish and red-nosed in his bed. Max was great. They would have been great on a line together. He was fast and he kept bodies away from Finn. But Max wasn’t Logan.

“All right, boys, you called it,” Coach sighed, hanging up his phone. “Game’s off. Let’s all get home safe now. Keep a close eye on these roads, it’s a river out there.”

At least the guys had the good sense not to cheer, but Finn knew they were all glad for the break. Exams were coming up fast and called for late nights in the library. Finn was exhausted. The games had been hard. They’d been missing Logan on the ice more than any of them cared to admit. He filled gaps that Finn never even thought to look for.

And it wasn’t good. It wasn’t healthy. But Finn felt stretched thin, brittle and sullen, when Logan wasn’t near.

Among the rustle of guys packing up and leaving, Finn hid a small smile, shoved his earbuds in, and pressed call.

The five rings it took for Logan to answer felt like the distance laughing in Finn’s face.

“Hm,” came from the line.

“Did I wake you?” Finn asked.

“Non,” Logan rasped, but Finn could hear it in his voice. He looked down at the call-screen, brushing a thumb over Logan’s contact picture: Grinning, half rolling his eyes maybe. From one of the boys’ pre-season road trips. Finn could just see his bare shoulders, and maybe no one else knew, but Finn had memorized the way his body had looked that day. Golden and strong. Hidden curves of muscles that Finn had mapped out with his thumbs, that one time. Once.

“Finn?” Logan’s voice asked, accompanied by a harsh cough.

“Oh, sorry, hi.” Finn rubbed his eyes. “Hi, I’m here. Just calling to say game’s cancelled.”

“You’re coming home?”

Finn laughed softly. The hope in Logan’s voice was unmistakable. “You’re such a baby when you’re sick.”

“Bring me soup.” 

“I will, I will.”

Finn wished he could make Logan soup, the real kind that his dad got from the deli around the corner when he and Alex were sick. Slight crunch of carrots, soft celery, thick egg noodles, bayleaf and rosemary. He wanted Logan to be better.

Finn zipped up his backpack. “Can you get better already?”

All he got in return was a disgruntled scoff. “I’m trying.” Then, after a moment, “You miss me?”

Finn smiled. He didn’t care who saw. It was Logan’s voice in his ears and his ears alone. “You know it.”

“Yo,” Percy said when the door to OKN slammed behind them. They were all freezing, knuckles tucked under the straps of their backpacks. “You going to check on the gremlin?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Kitchen first though. Gotta heat up some chicken noodle.”

Percy snorted. “He knows the stairs still work the same, right?”

Finn dropped his bags and laughed. “Oh, he knows.”

He went to the cupboard and found the cans of chicken noodle he’d picked up. The sink was a mess but he scrubbed a pan clean then stood close to the hot burner while it boiled. The rain was turning to snow outside and he, honestly, couldn’t remember the last time he’d been actually warm. He held his palms over the soup, beginning to bubble, and tried to rub some of the rawness out of his knuckles. He put it in a mug, easier for Logan to hold. Silver, Percy’s dog, came in and sniffed at his ankles, whining until Finn fished a piece of carrot out with the spoon and gave it to her.

How long did this storm give him to relax? A day or two. He still had to finish his Romanticism paper. He needed that book from Kelsey in his theory class. Logan’s soup was getting cold, Logan was sick, Logan was falling behind on his reading and there was only so much Finn could do to help. Logan, maybe, would let Finn spoon up against his back again while he shivered through his fever.

When he opened Logan’s door, he was hit with—well, the only word Finn’s brain supplied was summer. Logan had the heat in his room high, blankets wrapped tight around his shoulders. He was a half-visible lump in the bed, the darkness as good as humidity.

“Jesus,” Finn said as warmth began to seep back into his fingers. “Lo?”

No reply. Finn shut the door softly, then sat on the edge of Logan’s bed, setting the soup down. He put a hand on Logan’s back.

“Got your soup, baby,” he said—and then snapped his mouth shut. He’d meant it as—no, he’d meant—He’d meant here’s your soup. You big baby. But he hadn’t—had he? Baby. I just want to take care of you, and read all of your books to you and I want you to feel better, I miss you, I don’t know how to play without you—

Slowly, Logan rolled onto his back and blinked up at him. Finn stared back and had no idea if he’d heard or not. Baby.

“Raining?” Logan asked.

“Snow,” Finn said. He tapped a fingernail on the mug, making a soft clinking sound. “Soup.”

“We have to study.” Logan groaned and turned into his pillow before pushing himself up on one elbow. His hair was a mess. Needed a wash, too. When the blankets fell down, Finn swore he felt another wave of heat roll off of Logan’s bare chest and sink into his very bones.

“Don’t worry about that now,” Finn said. “Little vacation first, maybe.”

After a moment, one green eye peaked out at him. “Vacation?”

“Feels like the Bahamas in here, that’s good enough for me.”

Logan groaned. “I feel like the Bahamas.”

“So you are feeling better.”

“Non, ugh.”

Finn laughed, but at the frown that settled between Logan’s eyebrows, he quieted. It was a small risk, but he didn’t think Logan would call him on it—He pushed Logan’s sweaty hair off of his forehead. “I know, Lo. I’m sorry.”

Logan closed his eyes. “Oh, your hand is so cold.”

“Oh, sorry.” Finn made to pull back, but Logan gripped his wrist and kept him there.

“Non. Non, it feels good.” Logan dragged Finn’s hand to his cheek and let out a breath. “Fuck.”

Finn could only watched, lips parted, as Logan pressed Finn’s hands against his own neck, his chest, his forehead and cheeks. Finn didn’t dare move on his own. He let Logan put him where he wanted.

After what felt like an hour of Finn holding his breath and trying not to enjoy this too much, Logan let him go and sat up for his mug. He made a face that was something between relieved and dissatisfied.

“This soup is terrible.” He gave a shiver and sank back down into his blankets.

“I know,” Finn said, still caught on the soft roll of the R in Logan’s mouth. His lips were red, chapped. His eyes were vividly green against his fever-bright cheeks.

“What can I do?” Finn said softly. He needed to do something.

Logan looked at him for a long moment. Finn wanted him to say get in. Pull those heated, Logan-filled blankets back for him and let Finn sink into his favorite universe. The one where they might be each other’s.

“Nothing,” Logan whispered.

Nothing. That word out of Logan’s mouth could send him any which way. What could Finn do? Nothing. Nothing is what this seemed, sometimes. But it was everything. Finn was hopelessly trying, pushing and pushing himself to keep up with Logan. To try and figure out what Logan wanted from him. What more could he do?

Logan reached out and grabbed Finn’s hand again, bringing it back to his forehead. It startled a small laugh out of Finn.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Logan said. “D’accord?”

Finn sighed, but nodded. “Okay.”

Present Day

“My poor baby,” Finn said, trying to hide his laugh as he pushed the hair off of Logan’s clammy forehead. “Poor baby boy.”

Logan just tucked his nose up against Finn’s neck and grabbed at his hand until Finn was holding him even tighter around his waist, rubbing cool fingers up and down his spine.

“You are such,” Leo said from the doorway, where he had appeared with a tray of soup and ginger beer. “a baby when you’re sick.”

“Non.”

“Yon,” Finn said. “Always have been.”

Leo set the tray down on the other side of the bed and picked up the mug. He propped himself up against the headboards and Logan, slowly, rolled over and into his arms instead. Leo wrapped his arm around Logan’s shoulders so he could still reach the spoon. “Am I feeding you, is that what’s happening?”

“Yep,” Finn said. “Looks like it.”

Leo just shook his head, but let Logan lean up for a spoonful of broth.

“Merde,” Logan swallowed, his cheek smushing back against Leo’s t-shirt. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

Finn met Leo’s eyes to catch his grin. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Logan accepted a few more spoonfuls before sitting up himself and taking more eager sips. His eyes flashed disgruntled. “I just want to get better.” He looked wistfully out the window. “It’s summer, we’re supposed to be on vacation.”

“Hey,” Finn held up a hand. “What more would I rather be doing on my vacation that stay holed up with you two?” 

“Same,” Leo said. “Lo, you’ll feel so much better in a few days.”

“I know but…Yeah. I know. Just ugh.” He took another long sip. “This soup is really the best thing I’ve ever had.”

Leo laughed. “I’ll get you some more.”

Finn watched Logan’s eyes follow Leo out through the doorway. He had that same feverish flush to his cheeks. Glassy green eyes, red nose.

“Remember the snow storm?” Logan asked suddenly.

Finn nodded. “Mhm.”

“Me too,” Logan said.

When they smiled at each other, it wasn’t all that sad.

“What do you need, baby?” Finn asked, rubbing a hand over his bare chest. “What can I do?”

“Be here,” Logan said. He pressed a kiss to Finn’s neck. “I need you two.” He smiled, eyes darting towards the kitchen. “Do you need anything?”

Finn shook his head, watching as Logan brought up his hand to cradle against his own cheek. “Just you two.”

After Logan fell asleep again, Finn found Leo in the kitchen, humming softly to himself. He was stirring the big pot on the stove and Finn settled his hands on his hips.

“Smells so good, Le.”

“You want some, too?” Leo asked, holding the spoon up for Finn to taste. “Need anything?”

Finn accepted it gratefully, but he turned his head and kissed the corner of Leo’s mouth. “No, nothing.” Nothing. It was the fullest word he’d ever used. “Just you humming in the kitchen.”

[quitealotofsodapop]

Now a Part Two of more info on "The Monkey King and the Infant" au:

link to part one

There's A LOT of crying and emotions between characters in this fic. Like full on "imma destroy this wall real quick" tantrums from Sun Wukong *and* Macaque. They're both deeply hurt and very bad at communicating.

Macaque's death in JTTW is canon. He had not set upon Tripitaka on his own accord - he had been ordered. He doesnt remember who gave the order though - must have drank some soup in Diyu.

Macaque believes that Lady Bone Demon only resurrected him to let her out. But she also secretly needs MK for something. Macaque prays that they never cross paths. Spoilers: they do.

Before Tang and Pigsy realised who the two monkeys actually were; they managed to get them jobs in their own workplaces. Macaque assists Tang at the University library where he works as an archivist. Sun Wukong on the other hand is the pretty host/delivery boy that charms tips out of all of Pigsy's customers. Even after the reveal, the two monkeys enjoy their day jobs.

Pigsy doesnt trust Sun Wukong to run the kitchen on his own. He does trust Macaque though, which makes Sun Wukong furious.

The co-parents learned that MK has built-in Gold Vision cus he has no filter;

MK (age 4): "What happened to your eye?" Macaque: *checks if his glamour is on* Tang: "Huh? What about his eyes? They look normal to me... oh he probably just means that little scar you have." Macaque, relieved: "Oh... this. I got in my last battle." MK: "No no! I mean your WHITE eye. The one you don't squint out of. Same side as the white streak in your hair." Macaque: "...what?" Tang, slowly realising whats going on and trying to hold back a lore infodump: "Ah! :D"

Sun Wukong will start sobbing at the drop of a hat if asked how his and Macaque's last fight went. MK learned that the hard way and it caused a crying chain reaction.

It takes Shadowpeach literal years of living and raising a child together before they realise that they've fallen back in love. Meanwhile Freenoodles got express delivery within weeks of MK being in their lives.

One of the first shapeshifting forms MK was able to take on is a brown piglet. Yes, Pigsy cried the first couple of times it happened.

Sun Wukong and Macaque shared the restaurant apartment for most of MK's childhood. Pigsy used to live there too, but moved in with Tang nearby after he took in the the soon-to-be monkey parents. He claims it was to "save up on space", but it quickly turned into something else along with his relationship to Tang. In the modern day, MK still lives in the apartment above the restaurant like in canon. Sun Wukong mostly lives at Flower Fruit Mountain when he's not staying in the city - otherwise he forcibly crashes at Macaque's loft in the University district.

MK is trans masc (he/they) in this au, as is Macaque and maybe Tang. Self projection ahoy.

Demon attacks and Human threats have followed the family throughout MK's childhood, but its nothing a superpowered team of dads cant handle. Except the first time MK scraped his knee at kindergarden and Sun Wukong was convinced that he was gonna bleed out. Or when MK got his first bad cold and Macaque ruined the kitchen trying to alchemise a cure. Or MK's first run in with a bully that made Pigsy so mad that he reconnected with Sandy to pull a "scary bodyguard" act on the bully. Or MK's first school play where he played the role as a cloud, and Tang clapped a little too loudly. Or his first- (the list goes on. these dorks are so proud of their little stone egg baby).

Please add your thoughts in the tags or send asks cus my butt's gonna write a fic soon

[devils-dares]

Flufftober Day 3: Favorite Scent

summary: joel struggles to identify a scent he's smelled before, and he'll do anything to remember what it meant to him.

pairing: joel miller x reader?? mostly solo joel miller

warnings: strong language, reminiscent feelings of life before cordyceps, hurt/comfort, domestic joel miller of sorts

wordcount: 1223

a/n: tried to write something a little out of my wheelhouse with a single character centric fic! written for @flufftober

-----

It was hard to find things that were associated with memories at this point in Joel’s life. Everything that was recognizable to him was either on the radio or long gone, so he had given up on trying to cling to the past. He had Ellie now, and that’s all that mattered. All familiarity lies in him loving her like a daughter.

Tommy’s town felt domestic, a feeling of community he never had in the QZ. He watched the little kids play in the morning and caught up with the different members during the day on his jobs, it was nice. He drank coffee in the morning, had enough supplies to make pancakes and eggs for Ellie, just as he did for Sarah. He joked with his brother, babysat Tommy’s kid, things that felt mundane. Mundane was good.

One beautiful, snowy night in Jackson, Joel decides to accompany Ellie to movie night. She’s giddy, excited to finally learn what exactly a chick flick was. Joel feigns disinterest, but truthfully he’s just happy to see Ellie makes friends and be a girl. He settles down in one of the front rows, handing Ellie a cup of steaming hot cocoa. As he turns to grab the blanket, he catches a whiff of something extraordinarily familiar. It sends him reeling to a life of domesticity with Sarah, his daughter asleep on his lap while they watch movies together, or stargazing in the backyard. He tries to pinpoint the scent, tries to figure out where exactly he’s smelled this smell before, but he can’t. It merely takes him back to a time that no longer exists, and it frustrates him.

“Not into it or something?” Ellie teases him. He shakes his head.

“It’s a stupid movie.” He says, playing off the distraction. She laughs and leans her head against his bicep, to which he lifts his arm and instead tucks her into his side.

The next time he smells the scent, he’s heading out on patrol with Tommy. If anyone could know what his nose was trying to locate, it’d be his blood brother.

“You smell that?” He asks Tommy. His brother furrows his brows.

“Been smellin’ it around town. Asked Maria but she thinks I’m goin’ fuckin’ crazy.” Tommy says. Joel nods.

“Can’t remember what the hell that smell is makin’ me think of.” Joel mutters, and then they drop the topic.

It drives him insane over the next few days and weeks. He keeps catching a damn whiff, only to turn around and not find anything out of the ordinary. Finally, he has enough one day, deciding to stalk the scent through town. He follows it through the chow hall, through downtown, between shops and gardens. He chases it down the residential roads and he finds himself knocking on the door of a beaten up house with flowers in the front.

You open the door, and he almost stumbles back with the scent of nostalgia.

“Hi, can I help you?” You say, voice soft and sweet and he damn near melts before he can get the words off of his tongue.

“That smell, you… you’ve been leaving a trail of some kind of smell and I’m killing myself trying to figure out what the hell it is.” He stumbles over the sounds, like his tongue is swollen and his throat is raw.

“You seem… very concerned with finding this smell.” You say, furrowing your brows at the man who looks like he’s going to collapse at any second. “Why… why don’t you come in and try to figure it out, okay? And let me get you some water.” He nods, stepping inside. He works his face around your kitchen. It’s not the baked goods, nor is it the pot of soup bubbling on your stove. It’s not some kind of shampoo that he can smell on you… but the scent. The scent lingers, like it’s embedded into the walls of your home.

Something twists painfully in Joel’s chest. The more he smells that,,, whatever the fuck it is, the more he can feel Sarah’s hair under his fingertips. He can hear her laughter, feel the cold metal of the watch she’d fixed for his birthday, feel the plush carpet in her room on his feet.

You hand him a glass of water. He snaps out of his head to take a few sips, the cool liquid doing nothing to settle the acidic feeling of bile settling in his throat.

“Have you found it? Whatever it is you’re looking for?” You ask, and he shakes his head. He looks startled, like something’s catching him on an offbeat with every step he takes. You suppose that’s why you take pity on the man. That, and the fact that you know this is Tommy’s brother.

He looks around for a bit longer until his eyes settle on a familiar label. The domesticity of the candle burning in its holder- he might vomit.

“My daughter’s favorite candle.” He says quietly. “That was my daughter’s favorite, and then it became my favorite. It had to become my favorite, I was smelling it every day.” He admits, looking shocked at the words tumbling out of his own mouth.

“The candle?” You make sure you heard him right. He nods, tongue dry despite drinking the whole glass of water. “You can take it if you’d like. The candle. I have others.”

“What?” He says, shaking his head. “It’s yours, I couldn’t-”

“It’s just a candle to me.” You say. “But to you, that little jar of solid wax holds a bank of memories. It’s just something sweet and pleasant on my nose, but it’s helping you remember your daughter. Take it.”

He’s shocked that you’d just… let him have it. He takes it from your grasp, the wax still runny from the flame just having been blown out. He takes a few steps back, thanking you profusely.

“What was her name?” You ask gently.

“Sarah, Sarah was her name.”

“Sarah.” You repeat with a smile. “She must’ve been a hell of a girl.”

He nods, breath stuttering from smelling the candle.

“She was. She was.” He says. “You just… you have a good day now, ma’am.” Joel’s lost on words, so the next best thing for him was to make a quick escape.

“You too.”

—--

Days, weeks go by and Joel has the candle on his bedside table with the lid on, scared to let any essence of the candle escape. It sits next to a crumpled and faded picture of Sarah, along with a few mementos that reminded Joel of his late daughter.

He comes home from patrol one evening, spotting a box on his porch. His brows furrow, stooping down to see what it contained.

There was a piece of paper tucked into it: For Sarah, it read. He opens the box. Wax melts and body sprays and spare, unused candles in the scent he’d come to cherish. His heart pounds. Ellie comes home to a sweet smelling home, and there’s a single wrinkle line missing from Joel’s forehead. She spots the candle burning on the counter but decides against saying anything.

Joel remembered every little detail he’d forgotten about his daughter, every sweet moment he’d cherished and then lost to the apocalypse. The candle, along with other identically scented products, became his favorite scent once again in his life.

[fff777]

Stumbled upon this video of Got7 going to Jeju Island that I'd never seen before

Jinyoung breaking the illusion: Well there are cameras so it isn't technically a vacation ^^;;

Jackson: Paragliding without the parachute!

Bambam & Youngjae: I'm on a boat!!!!

I think Jackson dropped something on the floor? But why does Jinyoung have to hold his head like that.

Mark got voluntold to drive but he was like "...I think I'd get lost :<"

Jinyoung: Our goal is to make money so let's just buy stuff and the mark it up Evil capitalism man

Yugyeom just suggesting what he wants to eat and everyone including the video editors making fun of his childish tastes. I'm with you Yugyeom, I also have the taste buds of a child T_T

I am one of those people who like ice cream in winter so Jackson is not wrong. I also like ice cream in all seasons.

Jackson's names for the food truck are just variations of got, seven, and truck

Jaebeom's simple food truck name an instant flop

Mark's certainly feeling hyper for the trip :3 He's so chatty.

Mark too is a bunk bed enthusiast :3

After Jinyoung put on his perfume/cologne Yugyeom said he smelled like Yugyeom's dad

Mark thinking about the absolute worst case scenarios like the staff abandoning them and taking their luggage away when they get to Jeju

Road trip!!

Got7 surprisingly competent at making eggs. I mean, Yugyeom's egg was not as bad as Mark Lee's from NCT lol.

Look at how many people are there filming...

I'm getting sappy but busy kitchens are cozy to me :3

They are all decent cooks eh? :3 Or does the food just look good because I'm hungry right now haha.

Crab in soup noodles sounds so good

Bambam trusts Jackson's dishwashing but not Yugyeom's. Baby syndrome.

Mark found a perfectly good seat on Jinyoung's lap.

Jinyoung suggested doing the group chant before they went off and everyone was like that's so cheesy! Old man tastes lol.

The guys laughing at Mark and Jackson discussing what the bug is, in the mix of their Korean and English

Mark dolphin scream and Markson freestyle rap

Mark and Jackson getting distracted by pajamas at the store

Aw they ended up buying a pair of pajamas for each member.

The food truck is cute :3

They're borrowing someone's food truck so they can't get rid of the stuff that's already there because the owner will need it again later. So they'll just have to cover things up.

Jaebeom saw the pajama pants and Mark explained it to him and Jaebeom just sighed lol

Yugyeom can't handle spicy food. Taste buds of a child, like me.

Jackson getting kicked by Yugyeom for his failed aegyo

Bambam said that painting reminded him of kindergarten :3

Bambam helped his mom with her restaurant a year before debut <3

This is so cozy, Got7 have such good teamwork. I think I'm used to newer variety content that focuses on games and the funnies. These guys are really taking the food truck seriously and it's nice watching them help each other <3 There was shenanigans with the grocery team but the decorating team was working quietly on the signs. And then now they're testing the recipes and evaluating and making them better together <3

Mark took home economics in high school :P

Filming crew forced to try all of the cup rices XD

Jaebeom first being saved by Yugyeom because he had scissors and everyone else had rock but Yugyeom had paper.

Jaebeom so moved that he doesn't have to do the dishes XD

Yugyeom and Jaebeom super hyper for pre-sleep karaoke XD Believe it or not, they're sober XD

Jackson got out of bed and then tucked in Yugyeom uwu

Jaebeom was already up and watching a show on TV called "Uncovering the truth." I looked it up and it seems to be a documentary show about 'social issues, mysterious happenings, and unsolved crimes.'

Jackson wanted to surprise the members with breakfast :3

Wang Gae Park Gae with MarkBam asleep in the back

Jaebeom high pitched shrieking when the oil pops in the pan :P

Jaebeom, as he's cooking the nth batch of kimchi: I'm not going to cook for weeks

Bambam the artist drawing a poster with markers :3

Jackson: I'm still at a stage where driving is fun Joke's on me, driving was never fun for me T_T

AmeriThaiKong car talking in Konglish

Youngjae kidnapped Jinyoung into dancing with him on the street

Aw, they're nervous about whether the food truck will do well

I'm not sure what the certificate of sanitation signifies ^^;;

There's barely anyone in the park so they posted to social media ^^;;

Smell of failure is the joke of the day

Jackson accidentally promoting to the food truck owner

Jackson kind of peer pressured the first customer to their food truck lol

I think a lot of fans would have gone to the area after seeing social media

Youngjae's tuna mayo rice is very popular :3

Jinyoung is the money man

Aw Mark took a pic with a group of friends and one of the guys high fived him haha. They just became bros.

That guy also high fived Yugyeom haha. I think he just wanted to high five all of the guys :3 I think Got7 would be so approachable though :3

Tuna mayo is sold out!

Jinyoung was getting very managerial since it was getting crowded and hectic and people needed to be able to line up properly.

Ham sold out

RICE sold out XD

Egg sold out

Jinyoung the manager of Mark thirst traps

Third day will be for playing :3

Jaebeom said that he would just rest at home if the guys went go-karting and Jinyoung said all or nothing!!

And then Mark said "I won't go if Jaebeom doesn't go" T_T

Got7 videos were playing at the bowling alley when they first got there :P

What is this fluorescent glow in the dark disco bowling alley lol

Tangerines for days

Nooo they forgot the pajama pants in the car so we didn't even get to see them with their funky pajama pants on

Jaebeom and Jinyoung the soulmates :3

Jaebeom and Youngjae and their taxi driver roleplay :P

Kitty :3

Mark didn't jump into the cold water pool, he let himself fall in XD

Jaebeom always distracted by cats

JB, a butler

Photographer JB :3

Loser X3 He noted that the menu was expensive and after looking around he was like "hey guys...should we go somewhere else?"

Jackson announcing that he's going to go out for ice cream again (after finishing his grilled ham/spam) and being like "let's go Yugyeom!" and Yugyeom's like "I won't go!" In the end, Jackson went by himself.

NO JACKSON DROPPED THE ICE CREAM

Jinyoung patting Jackson's head

Ah this was such a fun little show. It was more down to earth than I expected. I loved seeing the guys take the food truck seriously. It was fun seeing these guys actually get down and cook. There were funnies but it was just Jackson causing a ruckus and otherwise very silly jokes that all of the guys are in on :P It's always been clear that they're very good friends and I love that for them :3

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! Pa and I revisited the little Japanese restaurant which serves healthy salmon hotpot. This time, we decided to try their other menu items. Pa ordered unagi kabayaki with rice and I had oyako don. We shared spinach in sesame dressing with bonito flakes and cucumber in sesame dressing. Pa finished his fish, rice and edamame but left the pickles and bamboo shoots untouched. The vegetables were soooo yummy! Fresh and crunchy, both the spinach and cucumber paired well with sesame dressing. As for my oyako don, tender chicken, silky egg and sweet onions on a bed of fluffy pearl rice? YUM. So coming back to try their other dishes!

Singaporeans love Thai cuisine; I'm no different. It's just that 9 months out of the year, we have very hot weather. It doesn't make sense to eat spicy food and make myself sweat even more! As we enter the rainy season, consuming more Thai meals is possible. Returning to the stall at the coffee shop near my home for WFH lunch, I ordered their green curry. The dish came with rice, crispy sunny side up and cucumber slices. Inside the little bowl of curry were chunks of chicken thigh, carrots and green beans. After devouring the egg because yum, I spooned a little gravy onto my rice, topped it with chicken and took my first mouthful. Although the basil taste was slightly too strong for my liking, this was delicious. The vegetables were cooked till tender and the chicken was firm and juicy. The gravy was lemak (rich) but not too gloopy. Will definitely revisit to try their other menu items!

ML, CL, MI and I returned to the coffee shop with the stall that sells yummy fish ban mian (board noodles). This time, I was in the mood for something different and ordered tom yum goong from the Thai food stall next to it. The fiery soup came with 3 medium prawns and 3 pieces of fish, each piece about half the size of my palm, tomatoes, oyster mushrooms and red onions. The seafood was fresh and the veggies tender, but the robust broth was the star of the show. Rich, tangy and flavourful, this was very tasty when spooned over rice. I had a hard time stopping myself from drinking it even though I wanted to reduce my salt intake. YUM! Will definitely revisit for this and to try their other menu items.

Although I don't live lavishly, especially during these uncertain economic times, I'm grateful for being able to dine out and enjoy moderately healthy meals pretty much daily. Many people in countries around the world are struggling with stubbornly high prices of basic essentials, including food. The situation is especially dire in Gaza, where much of the population suffers from acute malnutrition and remain at risk of famine. Whilst I count my blessings that I can eat well, my prayers go out to the Palestinians suffering immensely due to this genocidal war.

The world we currently live in is a very troubled one. I don't like it but this is our new reality, at least for the next few years. Living standards have dropped and will possibly remain lower for some time. If we don't adapt, we'll become very bitter human beings. It's much better for my emotional wellbeing to accept the way things are and will be until we achieve global peace. Today is the last Friday of the month; we get to leave the office 1 hour earlier, yay! We also have a gathering which I'll share about perhaps next week. 下次见!

[thehungrykat1]

The Pantry in Dusit Thani Manila Launches Buffet Fusion: A Culinary Crossover Experience

When my husband and I first started going on our food adventures many years ago, one of our favorite hotel buffets was the Crossover Buffet of Dusit Thani Hotel. This unique buffet included four separate restaurants spread across two floors, so it was like going on an Amazing Race to conquer all the different stations. That fun concept was eventually discontinued when they renovated their restaurants, so I was quite excited when I found out that The Pantry is giving us the next best thing with its new Buffet Fusion: A Culinary Crossover Experience.

In celebration of The Pantry’s 9th Anniversary, Dusit Thani Manila is giving their iconic Crossover Buffet a fresh twist and reimagined as Buffet Fusion: A Culinary Crossover Experience. Just like before, guests can indulge in a delightful fusion of Japanese and Thai specialties featuring dishes from their renowned restaurants Umu and Benjarong, together with the signature favorites at The Pantry, all under one roof. Now that's a great buffet concept we can all enjoy without having to walk all around the hotel.

The Pantry is Dusit Thani Manila’s signature restaurant on the ground floor which serves a fantastic a la carte menu together with its buffet offerings. The Hungry Kat was invited last week to the launch of Buffet Fusion, which will be available every Friday and Saturday starting September 20, 2024 at The Pantry from 6:00 PM to 10:00 PM for P2,500++ per person. Here you can enjoy specialties from Umu’s Donburi and Izakaya Grill stations to Benjarong’s popular Thai Chicken Rice and Kha Moo Pa Lo.

There are several dining areas to choose from at The Pantry, whether you want to sit at the counters near the bars or prefer the long tables near the buffet stations. There's also an al fresco dining area available.

Guests were serenaded by classic and contemporary tunes from the violinist who made the occasion more special.

Buffet Fusion: A Culinary Crossover Experience comes with unlimited rounds of selected drinks including Japanese sake, beers, wines, sangria, cocktails like Gin and Tonic, Mojito Negra and Lemon Drop shots, plus mocktails and juices as well.

There's also a dedicated Bubble Tea station serving unlimited glasses of Thai Milk Tea, Bubble Milk Tea, and Iced Coffee.

Let's start our culinary adventure at the Benjarong sections. There's a Thai salad station where you can find Fresh Spring Rolls and Miang Pla, a Thai style grilled fish, served with leaves, herbs, and chili sauce. I like how they set up this vegetable cart so you can feel like you are in Bangkok.

There are many other starters to choose from at The Pantry. Head over to the Charcuterie station which includes a premium selection of cheeses, beef pastrami, salami, and various breads. There are also a few other appetizers like the Watermelon and Vodka Shooters, Japanese Potato Salad, Cucumber Salad, and more.

Make sure to step outside at The Pantry's al fresco area where you can find other exciting Thai stations waiting for you.

You can find this Thai Street Food station offering items such as Luk Chin Pla or Thai fishballs, Gai Tord Kamin or turmeric fried chicken, and Moo Dad Diew or Thai sun-dried pork. You can dip these in different sauces including Sriracha, Black Pepper Sauce, Thai dressing, or Sweet Chili Sauce.

There's also a Thai Chicken Rice that you can order here together with soup and salad. Another rice meal you can try is the Pad Kra Pao or Thai basil minced pork with fried egg.

One of the Thai favorites that evening was the Kha Moo Pa Lo or Thai Braised Pork Leg. This comes with very tender stewed pork with fragrance of anise, five spice and cinnamon served with boiled egg and choy sum. It's like their version of adobo and patatim rolled into one.

Now let's go to the UMU sections at The Pantry where you can find all your Japanese favorites. The Sushi Bar comes with a colorful selection of sushi, maki, and sashimi to choose from.

One of the exciting areas is the Izakaya Grill station where you can find all sorts of yummy skewers and yakitori all freshly cooked. There's prawns, salmon, squid, chicken, beef and lots more.

There's even a Donburi station featuring Katsudon, Chicken Nanban Don, and Gyudon for those who enjoy eating Japanese rice bowls.

Don't forget about the Tempura Station with its crunchy Shrimp Tempura, Squid Tempura, Kani and Vegetable Tempura.

If you like sukiyaki, make sure to visit the Sukiyaki Station where the chef will personally prepare the ingredients and mix a delicious bowl for you.

There are many other Thai specialties you can find from Benjarong like the Tord Man Gung or Crispy Shrimp Balls and the Gai Hor Toey or Chicken in Pandan Leaves.

Aside from these, The Pantry also offers its selection of international dishes including Indian specialties like the fragrant Yakhni Lamb Biryani, Murgh Makhani, Bharwan Aloo, and more. There's also a Chinese dimsum and noodle station in this area.

Of course, the main attraction at the Buffet Fusion is The Pantry’s Signature Lechon at the Carving Station. This lechon is made from young native pigs and is slow-roasted for hours, then marinated with lemongrass, tamarind, and garlic. The Lechon has become a symbol of community and no fiesta, party, or family gathering is complete without it.

Another highlight at the Carving Station is the Slow Roasted Aberdeen Angus Beef Shoulder served with Red Wine sauce. This roast beef is a thing of beauty! Ask the server for a slice or two to complete your meaty adventure.

Now it's time for desserts! The Pantry has a big dessert station which comes with all the cakes and sweets you can enjoy.

For Buffet Fusion, they have also included some Thai and Japanese desserts as well like the Chai Panna Cotta, Pineapple Curry Tart, Khanom Tako, and more.

What we really liked what the Mango Mascarpone Mousse and the Oreo Mousse. The Mango Sticky Rice is a different version with the sticky rice rolled inside a pandan crepe. There are also fruits, chocolates, and unlimited scoops of ice cream to satisfy your heart's desire.

Buffet Fusion at The Pantry is a very exciting and filling trip around Thailand, Japan, and the Philippines without having to leave the restaurant. I'm sure this new concept from Dusit Thani Manila will have fans of their Crossover Buffet reliving their wonderful memories around the hotel. Make sure to reserve your tables now!

Buffet Fusion: A Culinary Crossover at The Pantry

G/F Lobby, Dusit Thani Manila, Ayala Center, Makati City, Philippines

7238-8888

dusitthanimanila.dusit.com

www.facebook.com/dusitthanimanila

[csolarstormhealthjournal]

Category: Medical event.

Content warning: Digestive trouble.

So it seems that last Tuesday afternoon, I came down with a partial bowel obstruction, as I've done times before.

Last time I stayed at home and rode it out, because it was during the pandemic and my mom simply said the ER wasn't an option. Normally all the advice says to go in, get a really unpleasant tube stuck down your nose into your stomach, so they can take pressure off your intestines by sucking everything out of them so the swelling in the intestines can go down in peace. I didn't do it that time, and it went away anyway by just avoiding food and slowly drinking fluids.

Which was FABULOUS. Because there are few medical treatments I hate more than nasalgastric tubes! So much so, that I literally pulled one out in my SLEEP one time! They are awful going in, it's awful to talk, swallow spit, anything with that fucking rigid tube in the back of your throat connecting your nasal opening and your esophagus like a stick in a puppet. I wouldn't recommend it!

To think maybe there were times I went in for obstructions and got that tube when I didn't necessarily need it! That time I pulled one out in my sleep, my obstruction still went away without it. And then one time in 2018, the doctor insisted on a really thick tube, and my mom still remembers the way I screamed when they forced it in. The pain was awful. It's probably why she said going to hospital wasn't an option. Even if the pandemic made it difficult, I could've still technically gone.

This is one of my biggest medical bogeymen. Not only is one of the most unpleasant conditions to have when your digestive system just shuts down and your intestines hurt, but it also affects normal life afterward when I starve myself to make sure it doesn't happen again. In the time after my 2018 event, I lost 20 pounds. Not only did the lack of nutrition make it hard to go to school, but I also dropped caffeine from my diet, which sucks for students or anyone involved with college really. And going further, I was so stressed trying to get help for my condition, get alternative pain treatments so I could reduce my pain meds in case they were the culprit, that I ended up taking time off school. Then the semester I went back, the pandemic happened!

So when the one during the pandemic happened, I found it a blessing in disguise to stay home. It was scary to not have help and I was feeling bad of course, but I learned that at least I don't always need a tube. In a way, it kind of healed some of that earlier trauma.

This event feels a bit more complicated. This time the symptoms don't feel as severe, but they feel deep seated. Like, without medical help I wonder if they'll really get better before two weeks, and that's a long time to eat one scrambled egg a day and drink lemon-lime Liquid IV mix. Yet...I am drinking, I am eating something, my digestive system is moving, the problem is my progress is much slower than it was last time. I've tried chicken noodle soup, saltines, a half an avocado, and they all made me feel kind of worse. I have yet to find that next step toward easing myself into the diet I had.

I don't know if I'm making the right decisions here. In a sense I'm doing better with this one than last time, since I've been going to the park and trying to live more or less ordinarily, but without food I'm more batty than usual. I get dizzy, confused, irritated, sometimes I just run out of energy and get back into bed for six hours at a time, and no matter how I try to keep myself distracted I have trouble not thinking about food and the obstruction.

And though I'm trying to gradually ease myself back into eating - today it was mashed potatoes - I'm afraid that I'll fail and it'll just get sucked up a tube. Today I called my general physician's clinic and asked to speak to a nurse, at least to maybe get a CT Scan. The longer I go like this, the harder it will be to just go about my day.

[now-we-say-c0ral]

October 19, 2023

The anxiety is kicking in. It's just a matter of time that I go back to work in a few days now. It's fine. I've had a good time off of work and I did so many things and I really don't mind spending the last few days of my sick leave just being cooped up in the house because next week is going to be hell. I hope it won't be.

For breakfast I made some egg drop soup again. This is one of my go-to quick meals that I make when I'm lazy as fuck. After breakfast, I went to the gym and did some legs. Oh, I just know that it's going to hurt. I have to start going heavier because if I don't I wouldn't notice any difference in my shape. I've gone down from 64kg to 61.5kg in less than a week. I've been trying to eat better and cleaner because my diet the past few months have just been sugary and fatty. I really have to get into shape. I'm glad that we booked the Morocco trip last night so that I have all the more reason to be motivated to get into shape.

After gym, I just stayed in and played Diablo 4 Season of Blood. It's quite a nice theme considering that it's Halloween season. Why do I wanna carve a pumpkin? I love the thought but I kind of dread the process. Called Aira and Mommy. Mommy send a picture of Meow-Meow laying on top of Daddy Lo's motor bike and he looks so fat and chill. I miss everyone. I'll definitely go home next year!

Purchased Mimikyu on Pokemon Unite and I love him already! Favorite ghost type!

Today has been good!

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

INSERT 25¢ TO CONTINUE : Into the AudoScape-Level 3: The AudoSphere Experience

Previous Next

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Allope woke up to the television still playing the same channel. Odd, because she seemed to recall turning it off right before she fell sleep. Still in her little cuffed-at-the-bottom jeans and brother's baggy hand-me-down blue jacket with yellow, red, and cyan compliments, she headed toward the kitchen where there seemed to be the most life. Dancing across the kitchen in preparation for tomorrow, her mother passed by Allope without much notice while putting away a carton of eggs. Something seemed different about her mother; she seemed happy, but more like the cheap sitcom brand of 'happy'.

"Hi, Momma!" Allope interrupted while folding her thumb into her palm and swinging it down from her forehead. This finally broke her attention.

"Oh, hello Allope," she made the same motion, "How was your night out, sweetheart?"

Allope, in her excitement, wasn't sure where to begin with her long night of new discoveries. She could have talked about the awesome movie-like game she played, the friends she made and lost, or her brand new Spinby that she broke, but really the most important answer seemed to be the metal box. Besides the vivid dreams of the uncanny, doll-like men mocking her constantly, the taunting presence of the mysterious crate and its many possibilities haunted her brain like a ghost in a mansion. "It was good-yeah," was the most she could muster out, feeling very greedy with the unique discoveries that she and her small group had found together.

"That's great Allope. I'm very glad that you were able to go out and spend time with your brother and Rebecca. Did you make any friends along the way?" Her mother squatted down to her daughter's level and placed her hand on Allope's shoulder caringly.

"Yeah! I did, actually!" Allope exclaimed, "But... Oh! I don't think I got anything to track em' by. I don't know how I'm ever going to see them again"

Her mother looked at her while thinking hard with her bottom lip tucked in, "Hm... You know, Allope, I don't think that arcade is open on Black Friday, but as luck has it; some sales have been extended out to end in a week. I suppose I can drop you kids off this next weekend as an excuse to go Christmas shopping without you looking. And just maybe there's a good chance you can catch them there again, Allope. Sound good?"

Allope agreed, turning her attention toward the grocery bags on the floor. Curiosity overcame the best of Allope to snoop on what her mother got for tomorrow's dinner. In it were the usual groceries, but some brands seemed a little unfamiliar. At least the box for the cake mix and soup cans were both a new "the MAX" brand that Allope had never seen before. Looking a little closer at the design on both products, she saw an image of that freaky lookin' guy from Channel 4.

"Max?" she repeated to herself while making a fist with her thumb in between her ring and pinky finger, while making a "V" shaped gesture with it beneath her jawline. She didn't know if she liked this new face brought into her world, but thought even more about her deep fascination with the unlimited world of technology and that crate.

It hit again. That blasted crate was in Freddie's van! All of those promising secrets; so close, yet so far away at the same time. Impatiently jumping onto the floral couch by the front window, the van, and likely Freddie, were both ironically absent at this trying time. "SHOOT!" Allope exclaimed jumping back down,

"Allope, language!" her mother uselessly replied from the other room.

"Where's Freddie? Did he leave?" Allope hollered, standing in place.

Her mother stopped in her tracks and walked over to the kitchen doorway, "Yes! He was dropping Rebecca off to 'hang-out' with her friends. I also sent him off to the store again to pick up some things I forgot this morning. Why? Did you need something, dear?"

"No-", she fibbed, "It's okay, I think I just left something in the car last night."

"Oh, okay. Make sure to let him know about it, okay Allope?" She entered the kitchen once more and resumed her preparation. Allope flopped her whole body weight onto the couch as a way to surpass her boredom.

"Ah-Ah-Ah-, It's that time of year again, isn't it? The most wonderful time of year -according to our sponsors- when parents once again have to relive the insanity of building up the childlike wonder of their kids with silly antics and made-up traditions, just to end up wasting hun-hu-hundreds on toys those ungrateful little knee-biters will i-i-immediately forget in just a MONTH!- Ca-can't you just feel that classic magic feeling in the air?! [ah~]"

"Ugh!" Allope grunted, piling her face in a pillow hoping to drown out the television's aimed mockery. In her poor attempts to relax, she disturbed herself with worries about not receiving a any satisfaction to her endless curiosity. Yes, while she only gave it her name, she couldn't stop the feeling as if it was made for her; like a late birthday present from the universe that she just couldn't play with. Hours faded away with all this constant mind-scrambling taking control and spiraling away from any grasp of the real world around her.

Suddenly, a fierce-biting cold flew through a bright wide-open door. Allope quickly lifted her head from the cushions to see Freddie's silhouette blocking the view of the partially snow-covered neighborhood— which was odd to Allope, as she didn't see snow from just a few minutes ago.

Freddie came in with a bag of groceries in one hand and a large bottle of soda in the other. "Mom!" he called, summoning his mother while both stood directly behind the couch. "Mom, this is all they had; Will it do?" he said while handing her a large bottle of Coca-Cola.

"Really? The shelves were that bare? The aisle I saw seemed just fine this morning," she grabbed it and examined it intently.

"No. The shelves were fine. But this was the only brand in the whole soda aisle. Maybe it's an overstock, but I dunno-is it good enough, Mom?"

She sighed as it was probably too late to go back now, but made do with it anyway. "You know Coke's nowhere as good as Pepsi, but-"

"aH!?-"

The TV overheated and flicked off. "Huh, that was odd. Must be from the snowstorm-" the mother carried the Coke back into the kitchen as if nothing happened. Both Allope and Freddie both bore the same wide eyed look, having a hard time comprehending why the tv just screamed and died in that given time.

"Oh-" a thought just came to Freddie as he rushed into the kitchen to convince his mother to check on something in his car. Both of them came racing out the front door once the subject was revealed, Allope anxiously watching them in hopes of their mother's approval of this strange item. She wanted to keep it, game console or not. Peeking past the lace curtains, Allope tried to make out just what they were saying by staring at their faces from the driveway.

"We found it—-- was in the middle of a road— a truck– and then!"

Their mother didn't seem too worried while glancing at the equipment, just as if she was just looking at someone's lost toy.

"And you said she broke her birthday present?"

"Yeah, she did... actually, you know what? It was my fault. I swerved—-and she just landed on it. It wasn't her fault."

"Okay then," she replied. She had no clue of what they said after that point because they hid back where she couldn't see them. Suddenly, they came through the door, dragging the mysterious new crate into the house.

"Good news, Allope!" Both lugged the box to the left of the television and away from the fireplace, "You get a brand new game for your late birthday. Think of it as a replacement gift from Rebecca!" she said, leaning on the box.

Allope's anxieties flew far away, "Really? It's safe?!" Allope jumped off of her seat with her mouth hung open in total shock.

"Yes, of course it would be! It just sounds like someone just lost their game set. No government secrets or NASA technology would use Nintendo as their source designers," she laughed while picking up a power glove and placing it down, "Just don't make too much of a mess with it. You know how your father gets-" she turned around to tend to whatever she was working on in the kitchen, without noticing the fact that bringing the crate in seemed to turn the TV back on.

"Did you do that?" Freddie asked.

"Nope!" Allope replied, not wanting to think about anything else. She flipped open the box once more. Freddie shook his head and chuckled at his little sister's excitement, and disappeared off to the kitchen to help their mother.

"Welcome back to the AudoSphere, Allope. Do you wish to run a tutorial?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever that is!" she began pulling out the off-white themed controllers from the foam casing, not exactly sure what they were supposed to do.

"Excellent. Before you begin your AudoSphere experience, you will first become familiar with your virtual set.

AudoSphere headsets are the most recommended sources for all of your virtual experiences. While non-interactive virtual happenings can occur without the presence of your headset; it is the main key for you to cross over into the virtual realm. You will be given a chance to explore all electronic activity in your surrounding area; just by simply strolling around to any place you may please, as the headset is fully wireless unless the battery is critically low. In such case, the host may either choose to recharge the set through the given wire sets, or in more drastic experiences; replace the batteries with any type of generic brand if recharging to an outlet is unavailable.

The Premium Power Gloves, waist tracker, and leg adapters all have adjustable cables that connect to the sides of the set. Match the color assigned cables and outlets as seen.

The following part of the tutorial requires the host to enter the Electronic Scape. Please do not do so with items such as outward-facing retainers, metal-framed glasses, or earpieces; such items can easily cause errors or contradictions within the system, or cause a strange reaction within these items. Permission to proceed?"

"GAH!" Allope shouted, "So then this is all useless then? I can barely hear a thing without my earpiece-"

"Understood. Our products were designed to easily adapt to many different needs. Would you prefer initiating the Ms. AudoSphere tutorial program, then? Subtitles and other forms of communication are included."

"Yeah! that sounds alright to me!" she proceeded to adjust the gloves, waistband, and leg monitors to just the right size. Then came the headset; placing her earpiece on the coffee table, and closing her eyes, she pulled at the velcro tight enough on her head to not fall off.

Letting go of the back of her head, she could tell that something was different. She opened her eyes to gaze upon the house she once knew to be simplified down into basic shapes drawn out by a sound-generated line overtop a gridded black void. She could hear it, she could hear all of it; far much better than she could hear it than she did when she was just a tot. Everything hummed in a somber and rhythmic tone, and became louder the more the items were active in any sort of motion. Reaching out her hand, she was just like everything else; reduced to polygons. None of this scared her in the slightest, as she felt like she had been pushed far past her own limited body, and found herself in the impossible realm of the beyond. Briefly, the house around her broke into an outstretching green grid against a black background. To the upper left of her view, a strange collaboration of lively squiggles accompanied her. A speech bubble appeared next to it:

"Svool. R zn blfi kiltiznnvw nlgsvi; Nrmmrv Zfwlhksviv!"

The sound of squeaky gibberish queued around the same time as the text. The longer Allope stared at the random collaboration of shapes, the more it  resembled a little woman in a frilly 50's dress who was missing her head. No gore was depicted, as it all appeared to be a programming mistake, like the character was half finished. Under the character was the words "Minnie AudoSphere." "Oh brother," Allope thought, rolling her eyes back at the ridiculousness of what was supposed to be her translator.

"Rmgvizxgrmt drgs mlm vovxgirx rgvnh hlfmw luu gsvri xlnklhfiv. Rmgvizxgrmt drgs vovxgilmrx rgvnh wl mlg szev gsv hznv vuuvxg!"

The little character floated towards a table lamp and flung her cone-shaped hand upwards, queuing the rings illustrating a lightbulb to multiply and thicken replicating a glow. The notes it made had a mystical higher pitch as a lower buildup of synth played behind it. Allope considered herself somewhat of an expert at charades at this point in her life, so she picked up on the cues rather quickly; swinging her arm at the end table, smacking it harshly in real life, but still getting a ragged bellowed sound once she hit. The depiction of the headless woman must have found Allope's response acceptable, as she proceeded in her lesson by blipping near what was supposed to be the television. The screen was the only thing left in the room to be filled fully instead of being just thinly lined or filled with multiple lines. Minnie held out her arm downward towards the screen giving some sort of an invitation.

"Qfnk rm. Wl rg."

Even then, she didn't know what that could mean. She reached her arm out to interact with it; reaching closer and closer, the neat lines that made the world up became ribbons; fragmenting more and more the closer she became to touching the screen. Once again, the world changed into something completely different.  Lively music echoed from the heavens. Blurs of shapes and patterns on a light blue background danced and frolicked away from Allope's view. The embrace of reality lost its usual feeling, as Allope felt her soul being dragged into some new reality. The concepted lines disappeared into a more usual sense of graphics. In this void were traces of abstract animations and floating stock images. "OH NO! I know where I am!" she smashed the buttons on her power glove hoping to get another result, "Hurry! Hurry!" she exclaimed, hoping not to be able to see the scary Ken-doll man up close. Fiddling the buttons on the back of the glove, pushing on any end of the direction pad changed the location.

Her feet landed on a smooth wooden floor instead of floating on a colorful abyss. Outside was a large blizzard blowing harshly against the glass windows on a wooden door. On a lovely leather sofa two young girls about Allope's age sat, tired and waiting for something exciting to happen.

Breaking the silence, a disembodied Barbie-sounding woman's voice began to talk: "Bored wondering just what lame gifts Santa's going to bring this year?" The two girls nodded with heads resting on their hands, "Well, wait no longer!" Out the cold chimney a raid of puppeted Spinby-like creatures with fully functioning arms and legs came bouncing onto the once-dull scene. The two girls became enthralled, as if this was the moment they were secretly waiting for their whole lives. "Meet the Limbies; far better than your average Spinby!" A montage of various activities appeared as Allope observed distantly, "Take your Limby on walks! Play to your heart's delight!" One of the little girls was now frantic about something; pacing in a pure panic as if she lost something important, "Now you can never lose your toys again; The Limby can find you wherever you go!" The girl turns around to welcome her awkwardly waddling limby creature. 

This was very amusing to Allope, who was now very interested in updating her Christmas list. Suddenly, something abruptly grabbed her. The flash back to reality was harsh, as the headset was ripped from Allope's sight. Before she knew it, she was back in the hollow realm of the present, being shouted at by her concerned brother, but not even being able to hear it. He noticed soon enough by her blank stare that she couldn't hear. He picked up the earpiece from the coffee table and placed it in her little hand.

"Allope, can you hear any better?" Freddie spoke more gently and gestured for her to understand what he was saying.

"Oh, yes Freddie! Do you know what I just saw?" Joyous over the occasion, her pep could not be diminished by Freddie's obvious concerns.

"No, but I have a pretty good idea about it. You began to act like some zombie for a little while, and then just started screaming something  before messing with your glove and somehow changed the channel."

"Oh, yeah..." She looked again at the TV, where the story finally concluded with the young girl holding her Limby close in a heart-shaped frame with the title "Limby Pals" under it. Once again, the channel changed when her dad grabbed the controller  and sat ack down with with their mother snuggled up to him, immediately laughing at what was on the TV. She turned back around at the TV to see 'That Guy' once again.

It was a notably odd choice for her parents; seeing how they didn't watch tv often, unless it was about realism, things like drama, or toxic paranoid propaganda on some news channel. They would always make such a fuss about Freddie and his 'loud' music, that Allope could never see them liking such a thing.

Freddie never intended to bother them in any way, so giving a spin on his interests, he would always try to listen to AM radio instead. He never liked it, of course, but at least that way he could relate to some things his father would blather on about. Obsessing over such negativity exhausted Freddie to his core, but beat himself to death just to get something-anything- out of his father to relate to. Allope caught on to some of this; she didn't understand why Freddie always pushed himself to like these things that he didn't, but was told often that "that's the way the world goes 'round," and was not given the chance to question it. She couldn't tell if he would be happy about his father finally taking interest, or upset that Freddie's interests were now valid just because his father said so for just a moment.

They would only seem happy when the "Max" guy showed up; otherwise they were blank-faced and disappointed in the usual content most of the time. Their interest, the music, or the weird guy on TV, weren't any of Freddie's concerns. While not being the only witness, he was still oddly the only one that noticed what Allope did. "I think you should take a break, Allow," he rested the headset on the floor; Allope understandingly nodded and placed the items back into the foam casing of the crate.

The cold afternoon came sooner than expected; Rebecca came back just before supper was done. "Distant as always," Allope's mother muttered to her husband as Rebecca walked through the living room.

"Yeah, I know. Never wanting to sit down and spend any time with the people who bothered to give her a home."

"Mom! Dad?!" Freddie yelled in a hushed tone, shocked at their sudden uncharacteristic attitude towards their adopted child. They always seemed to understand on some level about her emotional distance and unsureness because of past experiences, just up until recently. Rebecca held no personal judgment against Freddie, Allope, or even their parents; but felt like she would be punished by the fates for ever finding herself outwardly happy with her current family.

Their mom and dad didn't act like that again for the rest of the evening, making the occurrence seem even more odd. Allope attempted to separate her plate's contents with her fork, to make it seem like she ate something. She couldn't do much else but daydream about being back in the virtual world. She pondered on the limitless possibilities of what could happen if she touched something like a toaster or radio. Could she die in something like that? What could all those complicated buttons and levers on her set really do? And what if the people inside the TV saw her; could the outcome be edited?

"Allope, sweetheart. Are you okay? You haven't touched your food, honey."

She just knew she had to go back in one more time, but probably not in front of Freddie because of how worried he always gets. This was something nobody else knew about, and she needed to experience it for herself no matter the risk. She ate what she could off her plate, and prepared herself for bed just about the same time everyone else did. It took about an hour for the living room to finally clear out, the lights to be turned off, and the doors locked. Quietly, Allope slunk down the stairs in her pink satin nightgown and kitty-themed socks into the living room. The orange-tinted snow clouds brightened the night sky, lighting a clear enough path for Allope to know what she was doing. For once, for the entire day, the television was off, so no noise could be made then if she just stayed quiet.

Carefully lifting up the latch, placing her earpiece on the table, and configuring the equipment once again; Allope was all set to enter in a see-through 3-D world much more expandable than her own, once again. Allope's expectations were high, which made them drop even harder when she put it on to only see pure black.

After fidgeting to get it back on again, Allope finally came to realize that it was likely out of juice and needed to be recharged. She dug into the carved foam padding to pull out the charger chord and plugged it into a convenient hole in the back of the set. The area behind the TV was dark, and she couldn't find the right-fitting outlet in the wall. To solve this, she shoved the big wood-encased television set as much as she could to get a better view. "What?" she made an attempt to replicate a whisper, "This can't go into a wall," as she turned her head to take a look at the TV. Oddly enough, there was an engraved hole just about the same shape as the cord she was holding. It seemed like destiny spoke once again. Allope felt regret in her actions, as she immediately knew that the TV probably had to be on for this to work just right. She inserted the strange plug into the strange outlet, and ran over to the buttons beneath the screen to quickly turn it on and turn the volume down to avoid disturbance. She waited, but the little time of noise didn't seem to disturb anyone's sleep. A sigh escaped her lungs in the wake of relief. Knowing now that she was only confined to the area around the TV, she only made plans to mess with the mechanics behind the screen in front of her.

After adjusting the set correctly, she was able to easily shatter realities once more. Most everything was quiet; still making some sound to generate the lasers, but fairly soulless compared to what it was before. There was no sign of Minnie, nor of the shaky-voiced narrator lady that disappeared earlier. There was nothing to direct her or tell her what to do, just as if they were somewhere else or no longer existent. Even approaching an object had a slightly more somber outcome. Extending her arm out to interact with the bubbled screen, rather than fragmenting into multiple vibrating lines, caused the lines to melt and bent away from her fingertips; almost avoiding the grasp of her touch.

Closer and closer, Allope was still able to break the barrier; splitting through and falling through the fragments that shook out to be grayscale lines opening and closing at random on a dark background. Reality lost its grasp. Allope smacked the floor harshly in the real world. The ability to push herself up was foreign, as if that part of her brain had suddenly shut off. She was falling through a never ending frame, breaking and scrambling into a loud and excruciating tangled mess. Beyond the screaming synth, a voice was laced within.

"Oh -damn it all! I know very well that we gained five channels this week; I also know even more that I'm worth more than just 5! You hear me?!"

A distanced voice that Allope couldn't make heads or tales of responded to this angry-sounding man.

"Hah-hah-'Time is patience' yeah right! If I know anything; it's that a decade of filming entertainment means you need more credit than THIS to survive! And yeah-yeah-yeah; 'we have that this coming weekend', but that's not going to stop the 12-and-under crisis, now is it? Those pathetic little brats too busy with every other thing in the world to 'care about' or 'understand' the content I worked so hard to plow out for them! Bunch of morons coming straight out of the crib, I tell you what-"

The man turned and started calling out to somebody distant. "New rule! Remove all the PSA's that encourage those little snot-scrunchers to 'go out and play once a day.' They have much more important activities to attend to!"

"Hm- the less distractions they like could be a less messy route to go by. Make sure to let me know if I can kick some dirt on anything in the way of anyone watching my shows!"

Allope was nothing but a fragment of thoughts. She made an effort to push together the pieces to make something that resembled herself before. "AAAH?!" she naturally grunted in her attempts to pull herself back into the comfort of her living room.

"Sh-!" The characters in the distance started to mumble once more in confusion.

"I SAID JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!"

The twisting confufelment of lined polygons evaporated, as no present parties spoke; staying silent as if life itself depended on it; Allope following along.

"Something's wrong here, I can feel it. Keep it quiet, won't you? I don't know how, but somebody else is on the other line."

Once again, Freddie came to the rescue by ripping the headset off one more time. He frantically grasped the earpiece and placed it in her hand, "Allope, what the he-!? Allope? What happened?"

Allope couldn't listen. Not for anything; she didn't leave the television on channel 4, yet there the uncanny man was, looking as confused as ever, but not saying a thing as he scanned the room as lively as any person would. He locked his point of view to the middle of the screen and slightly snickered. Once again the TV flicked off without anyone even touching it. Freddie noticed this all as well, but didn't assume as much to be in a fearful state the way Allope was.

[brightert0mb]

What Does it Mean to be Family?

Canon to Allay Storyline

Warning(s): Manipulation, Mild Angst, Mentions of Past/Attempted Character Death, Feeling Underserving of Happiness, Thoughts of Arson, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied Past Abandonment

----

It had been almost a week since the Red Banquet. You had gone to the farthest edge of the SMP. You no longer heard the Egg and only now did you realize how much angrier it made you, how much more it made you hate your friends.

Maybe that was why, deep down, you didn't want Bad to find you. You had built a little cottage by a river. A small garden with carrots, potatoes, and beetroot. You even had a chicken and a cow. It felt nice, in a distant way. Like you didn't feel you deserved a nice quiet life.

You had helped kill Foolish. You almost killed Niki. Why were you allowed this? A quite, happy farm life while you traumatized everyone else. More than once you thought of burning your cottage down, maybe even going with it yourself. But you never had the will. Maybe you just didn't want to. Didn't stop you from staying up at night though.

Either way, you had a nice quiet life going for you. You eventually got into a groove you followed every day. Occasionally you would change things up. Make a cobblestone path, plant some flowers under your windows, go hunting instead of fishing, just depended on how you felt.

One day, you were in your garden, gathering your day's crops, when you heard a soft bark. You hopped the fence only to be greeted by a wolf exiting the treeline. You knelt down, offering some cooked pork from last night. The wolf trotted over taking the meat and leaning into your hand when you went to scratch his head, only for you to notice a collar on the wolf’s neck.

You heard a rustle and snap causing you to jolt up, greeted by the sight of Techno, looking quite uncertain. You stared at each other for a good minute, him taking note of your basket of vegetables, while you noticed the loaded crossbow.

“Come to hunt me down, I see.” You finally said the gentle wind tousling your hair and shifting the leaves in the trees. “Come to bring you home.” He said matter-of-factly as he put away the crossbow. “The crossbow was in case there was trouble-” “In case I attacked you, you mean-” “Y/N.” “Techno.”

Another staredown ensued, this much more heated. You broke first, closing your eyes and sighing before walking to your cottage. You heard Techno and his wolf follow.

When you entered, Techno took a place on the couch while the wolf lay at his feet. You entered the seating room, throwing him a small bundle of golden carrots, which he caught with ease while you dropped the wolf some more pork chops.

You sat sipping on some leftover Beetroot and Mushroom soup you made this morning. You didn't look at him, let alone talk, but you felt his eyes boring into your head the longer you kept your eyes closed.

“What?” You lowered your bowl to your lap. “Come home Y/N.” He said meaningfully, leaning towards you. “So everyone can hate me and call me a murderer? No thanks.” “They won't do that. Everyone misses you.” “They miss their errand girl.” “Bad’s still looking for you.” “Misses a minion, I'm sure.” “You don't mean that.” “How would you know?” “Because I know you Y/N.” He said, standing.

You took a breath in your nose before letting it out with a slight hiss. “Just leave.” You stood, set on taking your bowl back to clean it. You were stopped by Techno grabbing your wrist, which with your smaller size and him being a Brute, was more akin to him grabbing everything from your wrist to your elbow.

“Come home Y/N. You miss us just as much as we miss you.” It was true. You thought about them almost every day. You wanted to apologize to Niki, have tea with Phil, go mining Ranboo, have meaningful talks with Techno, but you couldn't. You severed those bridges when you sided with the Eggpire, who probably hated you too for not coming back or making it easier to find you.

“How would you know what I feel?” You growled, trying to pull your arm away. “Because I know you!” He was starting to get upset at your avoidance, holding your arm with a bit more force, just enough to keep you where you were. “How would you know me?! I left you!” You were starting to hold back tears, your voice cracking slightly as you pulled harder to get away.

“Because you're family, Y/N! And you'll always be family!” You finally looked at him, tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill over. “Family doesn't abandon each other! Family doesn't hold each other hostage! Family doesn't try to kill each other! Family doesn't use and desert each other! I'm not family to anyone Techno! So just leave like everyone else did!”

Techno pulled you, the jolt making you drop the mostly empty bowl to the Birchwood floor while Techno hugged you close.

“Family helps each other. Family is messy and makes mistakes. I'm sorry I didn't notice your feelings sooner Y/N, but you are family. You're family to Phil and Ranboo. Niki too, even if she feels hurt. Bad and Ant call you family too.” He lets you pull back a bit, lifting your face to look at him through your tears.

“And your family to me too, Kid. You'll always be family to us, even if you mess up and join a government.” You wanted to laugh but instead, you choke out a sob, jumping into another hug which he returned, if somewhat stiffly.

Once you stopped bawling your eyes out, you talked for a bit. About what had changed, what was happening, how things had been, what happened to the Egg. You were immensely thankful that it had been sealed up again. You apologized more times than either of you could count. By the time you both were done talking, the sun was starting to set.

When Techno said it was time to go home, you hesitated. You wanted to go, XD you missed everyone. You missed running errands and fetching things for people. But you were scared. Even if people missed you and you missed them, you couldn't go back. Not yet.

Techno agreed reluctantly, giving you your old communicator back. Before he left you told him to come around sometime later on with Phil, Ranboo, and Niki. He agreed and then he was off.

You went back inside, having no appetite for dinner, you went straight to bed. For once, you didn't think about how the Egg would whisper in your ear, or the thousands of questions you had about everyone else. No, for once, you managed to think about all the things you'll finally get to say to everyone. For once, you felt like you actually got sleep.

For once, you felt like today would be a good day.

[yukihime-mikeys-girl]

Baby steps

CW - angst, abuse, drunk abusive household, guns, death, character death, swearing, yandere-type behavior, toxic relationships, higher deities, devil, suicide, blood, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, blood, character death, pain.

A/N - I apologize for the delay, work was a little hectic this week. As compensation, I plan to post this chapter followed by another 2-3 over the weekend.

MINORS DNI.

PLEASE STAY AWAY FROM THIS SERIES IF THE ABOVE WARNINGS TRIGGER YOU.

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST TO OTHER SITES. LIKES COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Mikey x OC

Baby steps

You reach home to the sounds of angry yelling. You sigh at the door, before turning the knob. It’s always like this. Either the house is dead silent or there are sounds of yelling or pots and pans being thrown around. Today’s item on the menu was yelling, apparently. You can hear your father threaten your mother that he’s going to light the house on fire and burn her with it. You know this stage. It’s the one where he drunkenly attempts whatever bald faced lie he is spewing. You rush into the house, dropping your shoes carelessly at the entrance, just to find your mother cowering in the kitchen while the mad dog is waving around lighter in the air. They’re both standing too close to the gas line cooktop. Not liking this one bit, you rush into the kitchen, and crash into the bastard. He topples over and waves the lighter at you, while a fresh string of curses fall from his mouth which are not directed at you. You snatch the lighter forcefully from his hands, while ignoring the curses. You help your mother up and take her to your room where you make her sit on the bed. He tries to follow the both of you, but being drunk off his ass, he cannot seem to get his bearings straight and falls down. Cursing and muttering that this is his fate, he lies unconscious on the floor of the hall. Your mother rushes to try and make him go into the bedroom in his drunken state. You are irritated because you just don’t understand how this woman can have so much empathy for a man who does nothing but make her life miserable. You scold her to let him be and ask her to rest. She is too tired to argue and goes to bed. Without eating, you observe.

“There is rice, miso soup and a fried egg kept for you, y/n. Eat it. I don’t feel like eating. I am going to bed.” She says before retiring to her room.

You sigh... you’re not hungry either after seeing the drama unfold, and also partially because you’d shared ice-cream with that Sano boy. You start to feel guilty. Here you were, enjoying life, while your mother labored away in the kitchen and under the insults and threats of the bastard you had to call father. She was growing thinner by the day, you observe. The bags under her eyes are getting more and more pronounced. You don’t know what to do. This stress seems to be catching up to you, seeing as you had fainted in school earlier.

‘Oh crap! The note from the nurse! It shouldn’t come home no matter what!’ you vow to visit the nurse and get it from her before it is posted to your house. You don’t have the heart to trouble your mother with any more problems than what she is already going through.

Taking two servings of the food, you go to her room and see her lying on the bed, with an arm covering her eyes. The lights are still on. You sit beside her with the tray and say, “Eat with me. Else I won’t eat as well.”

She doesn’t make any moves to get up. You wait patiently for her to get up. She always listens to you.

You see tears slowly run down the sides. You start to worry, if this was the very last straw for her.

“Mom?”

Your voice cracks when you call out. She senses it, and quickly wipes her eyes. Getting up, she tries to put on a brave face, saying, “Come on, let’s eat. Cannot have my baby going hungry, now can I?”

You know it’s an act, but you play along, because you know how fragile the façade is. If you poke at it, she’ll burst into tears.

“Yes, let’s eat!” you say while giving her the bigger portions of the food. She giggles a bit, seeing the way you’re giving her the bigger portions. It’s a real giggle. She then exchanges the bowls and takes the lesser one. You whine saying it’s not fair, but she shushes you and just asks you to start eating.

You’re both eating, while you talk about your day with her. She’s surprised, since you never talk about school. You usually would eat in silence, when you’d have such moments, because you had nothing to talk about, but somehow, today, you have a story to tell her.

You of course omit the part about you fainting, and go about telling her, how you had this one person in class who would always keep pestering you. You tell her about how you crashed into him, and then bumped into his face. Your mother seems to genuinely laugh at your clumsiness. You’ve never seen her laugh like this and it’s refreshing to see her happy for a moment. You swear to yourself in that moment, that you will try and let Sano-san into your life, seeing as every moment with him has been exciting. For you, and now, it seems, even for your mother, seeing how she is enjoying the way you are talking about your life.

You tell her about how he asked you for a treat since you bumped into his face and the way you made him a mint choco sundae fan. Your mother seems to have genuinely enjoyed the way you spoke about today’s day. What you don’t know is that, she knows how you’ve closed yourself to others because of the way things went down with your old friends. She knows it’s not healthy, but she didn’t know how to help you fix it. So she was genuinely happy when you spoke about this Sano boy who kept pestering you. It looked like he liked you and maybe, just maybe that would be the push you needed to trust other people again.

So she says, “Looks like this Sano boy is a handful huh!? Although he seems to sound like a nice boy. I’d love to hear more stories about your day like this again.”

She doesn’t push you directly to be friends with him, but the message could not be further away for you. You read the room as your mom being happy because you talked about Sano, and that, maybe having an eventful day and coming back home to tell your mom these stories was taking her pain away.

So much for being the class topper. Sigh...

At the moment, it doesn’t matter since you did reach the same conclusion that your mother had. Try and be friends with Sano.

You both finish your meal and and then you ask her to rest, while you take the dishes into the kitchen sink. She asks you to just soak them and keep, as she plans to wash them in the morning. You go the extra mile and wash them quietly, since you know how tired your mother is. After doing the dishes, you go to her room one last time, to wish her good night. You see that the light is switched off and your mother snoring lightly. She must have been tired the entire day, if she’s conked out so early.

Softly closing the door behind you, you move towards the hall. You see the drunk bastard lying on the floor and you get the urge to kick him in his ribs. However, you know that this will only wake the devil and you want your mother to at least sleep peacefully for a few hours. So, you just walk towards your room quietly.

You change out of your uniform and go to wash your face. As you are tying up your hair, you see something on your neck from the corner of your eye. It seems to be some sort of a tattoo. It looks like a star in a circle, a sort of a symbol. You don’t remember getting one. However sweet your mother was, she was strict in these matters. You’d get scolded, if she saw it. Panicking for a minute, you try to rub it off with soap water, but it does not seem to go away. You start pacing the room thinking about the events of the day.

__________________________________

You had reached school as usual today. It seemed like it would be a sunny day. The first period went on without a hitch. It was math and you loved math. However, the blonde beside you sighed and sighed with every passing second, irritating you. You hiss at him. When her turns, you shoot him a menacing glare, while moving your thumb across your neck in a slicing motion, followed by your index finger in front of your mouth. You’d tried to sign it to him that he’d be dead if he didn’t shut up.

He just grins lazily and tears a small piece of paper from his book. Scribbling something on it, he passes you the note.

“Do you really like math so much that you want to kill me for sighing?”

You scribble back furiously and throw it in his direction without even glancing at him. He opens it to read, “YES, NOW SHUT UP! LET ME FOCUS!”

From the corner of your eye, you can see him shaking his head in amusement while storing the note in his book and keeping quiet. You are glad that your tactics worked.

A few moments later, you start to feel eyes on you. Turning, you see that he’s put his head on his books, his arms supporting him and he’s intensely staring at you. The lazy smile still on his face.

‘Ugh so much for a peaceful math class.’ You think.

You tear a piece of paper from your book this time and scribble again before throwing it in his face. He is surprised for a moment before he opens the chit.

“Stop staring at me, it’s weird. Let me focus on the class please.”

His grin widens when he reads this. Scribbling back, he gently places the chit on your desk. Tanaka sensei has finished explaining the theorem and has now turned to face the students while reading out problems based on the said theorem.

You are busy furiously jotting down the question statement, when you see the note. You ignore it for a moment, since you are so lost in taking notes. Once Tanaka sensei has finished reading out the question, he turns to the board to write down the solution. Now that you have a minute to yourself, you pick up the chit, and open it.

“Who said I was staring at you? you’ve got the window seat, I’m bored out of my mind and already failing math. I was looking out of the window. You were just in the way, l/n-san :P” it reads.

You are now embarrassed beyond words. ‘So much for thinking that he was looking at you. stupid, he was looking out the window.’

Your cheeks start to heat up at being so self-absorbed. This does not go unnoticed by the said blonde monkey beside you. He’s smug about the way your cheeks are dusted with pink while you try to focus on math. So, he calmly continues to focus on you.

__________________________

You do not seem to remember anything after that class until the time you woke up in the infirmary. Something must have happened then. You are sure of it, but try as much as you can, you keep drawing a blank. Your head starts to hurt as you try to recall. So you stop thinking about it and wash your face. After you’ve brushed your teeth and done your nightly skincare routine, you switch off the light and lie on your bed. Your brain wanders automatically to the blonde boy who you’d shared an ice-cream with today. The way he smiled made you feel weird. You think back to the moments when you were conversing with him, and he mentioned Toman. Something ticked him off and he seemed to look dejected till you ordered the ice-creams. Was it something you said?

‘Wait, why am I bothered with what he thinks.’ You groan when you remember why. One, he was the key to the note not coming home, (you needed to know how and get it over with). Two, your mother seemed to enjoy the stories you told her of him, so you had to befriend him no matter what. For the sake of seeing that smile on her face. Groaning out loud this time, you bury your face in your pillow as you think about the next day and how you would have to start being nice to him.

_________________________________________

He had secretly followed you till your house. He’d turned away to walk back home, but a nagging feeling at the back of his mind made him follow you even after you ran away. He hid in a nearby bush when he saw you stand in front of the door with sagging shoulders. He could hear yelling coming from the house. Was this how you lived? He wondered. It was hurting him, to hear the violence that was taking place. He wanted to rush through the door and beat the crap out of the person who was yelling. Suddenly, the yelling stopped followed by a dull thud sound. There’s now a string of curses which are being yelled. He listens intently, and hears your name being mentioned. He sees red when he realizes that you’re being yelled at. But he cannot do anything at the moment. After a while, the yelling stops. Maybe things have calmed down is what he thinks, and starts walking back towards his own house. He’s in deep thought. He had a bad feeling that, the things that he’d heard today and your explanation of why you didn’t have friends seemed to be linked to each other. Kicking a rock dejectedly, he kept walking home, when Draken whizzes by on his bike. Stopping beside Mikey, he grins while teasing again, “Sooo... where are you coming back from, lover boy? Need a ride? Perhaps to l/n-san’s place?”

Seeing that Mikey is still not responding, he looks closely to see Mikey’s face scrunched up in thought. Concerned about what might have brought this on, he waves a hand in front of Mikey’s face saying, “Earth to Mikey. Are you there?”

Mikey finally looks up at Draken, his eyes seem to be empty.

“I had an ice-cream sundae with l/n-san and walked her home. Ken-chin, she does not have a good personal life. I heard someone causing a ruckus in her house. Maybe her father? Or uncle, I am not sure. But it sounded very bad. I want to help her, but I don’t know how. I just know to use my fists and my legs, but I can’t use it in this situation.”

Draken is shocked to say the least. He was sure that you were just a snobby brat, but it just seems that you may be broken, just like Kazutora and this was your way of coping.

“Why don’t you start small and try to get her to be your friend, maybe then, you can get her to open up to you and you can help her. Heck, let me also get in on the action. No selfish bastard should trouble his family like that.” Draken growls. He’s seen Kazutora get stressed and lose his shit whenever it became too much. Keisuke was the one keeping him in check by letting Kazutora crash at his place. Even though he himself had no parents, he was not envious of the way yours and Kazutora’s parents had turned out. The prostitutes who had raised him were better, he thought.

“that’s the thing, Ken-chin. She’s lost so many friends that she’s given up on being friends with anyone. I asked her a while ago, before we reached her place, if I could be her friend, she said she didn’t want it and ran away. I think it might be because I told her that I’m in Toman and that I’m the leader. She seemed to despise delinquents. What should I do, Ken-chin!?” Mikey whined to Draken.

“Maybe, you can keep pestering her, till she becomes your friend, and then get her to meet the guys in Toman. Show her what it’s like, maybe then she might change her mind?” Draken reasons with him.

“Hmm... Well then, let the games begin! I’ll show her that I can be the constant in her life that she deserves.” Mikey says, while hitting his palm with his fisted hand, as if he’s just got the best idea in the world.

“Don’t you dare open your mouth on the fact that you know what’s going on in her personal life. She’s not told you, and you eavesdropped near her house in a bush, she’ll think you’re a creep (she’s not wrong though) and stop talking altogether to you.” Draken warns Mikey while chuckling.

“You really need a beating from me, come here, let me teach you who’s the boss!” Mikey runs behind Draken, as Draken roars his bike’s engine, revving out of sight.

Sighing, Mikey reaches home, determined to make you his friend. ‘Slow baby steps are better than no steps at all’ he thinks.

What neither of you know, is that Tanaka sensei also has his own plans. And things are just about to get a little more complicated but fun.

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@tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang @evesou707

@frogtits1

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! Pa introduced me to Song Yue, a restaurant from Taiwan island which serves homestyle cuisine. There were many dishes I wanted to try but we limited ourselves to just 2. We'll definitely come back because the food was scrumptious! Pa ordered braised pork ribs with radish; I picked another signature dish: tofu, shrimp and crab meat in pumpkin sauce. To go with the dishes, we had a bowl of rice each. The tofu arrived first and we tucked in. One word: WOW! The flavourful pumpkin sauce resembled geng, a thick soup. We finished all of it, including every drop of the sauce. The ribs were even better. They were fall-off-the-bone tender and very well-marinated. Large radish chunks were soft and soaked up the savoury gravy. Sublime!

The coffee shop near Grace's and Douglas' former residence underwent major renovation. Finally, after many months, I decided to check it out. Besides being brightly lit, there were new stalls selling various dishes, including zha jiang mian (pork noodles in bean sauce). I indulged my craving and ordered the noodles, as welI as sheng jian bao (fried pork buns) to try. I took my first mouthful after tossing the mian and coating them evenly with sauce. YUM! The sauce was fragrant, the meat was tasty and the julienned vegetables added crunch. I also liked the accompanying milky broth which was pretty flavourful. The sheng jian bao was nice but, to me, xiao long bao (soup dumplings) taste much better.

I revisited the stall which serves zha jiang mian on pretty plates. This time, I tried fan qie ji dan mian (tomato egg noodles). How gorgeous the vibrant colours are! Their version is served dry instead of soup, and came with bak choy as well as wood ear mushrooms. Those noodles were once again delightfully QQ and the eggy sauce, whilst enough to coat every strand, wasn't too salty. For $3.80, this dish was not only yummy and nutritionally balanced, it was also filling. I wasn't even hungry at dinnertime! I'll gladly return for this, the zha jiang mian and to try their other menu items. They even have a little corner serving ma la dishes!

Work has been stressful this week and, with a colleague going on long leave for a fortnight soon, the next 2 weeks will also be hectic. In spite of the frenetic pace, I was able to squeeze out short bursts of time for socialising. For this, I'm grateful. It doesn't feel right to whine since Palestinians in Gaza fear for their lives daily and it seems like not a day goes by without several of them massacred during the course of this genocidal war. Over 36,000 have died and over 80,000 injured to date. I'll continue praying for a permanent ceasefire and for parties arming Israel to be severely punished. I'll also pray that the punishment grows more severe the longer they continue to supply weapons.

Previously, the US stated clearly that any attack on Rafah would be crossing their red line. Well, Israel has crossed it, only for the US to shift the goal posts. Those 'red lines' seem as credible as Biden claiming he saw beheaded Israeli babies during the 7 October attack on Israel (which have since been debunked). Can you blame me - or any other party - for being sceptical of what Biden's administration and mainstream media say? News reporting is supposed to be factual and neutral but I don't find this practised by some western mainstream media platforms nowadays. I don't trust what they say. 下次见!

[cdroloisms]

haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

[sundaysundaes]

Make a Wish

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | College AU

Summary: It’s your birthday today and instead of giving you a box of gift, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, decides to grant five of your wishes. You can’t help but feel a smirk creeping up your face. It’s time to get a little… creative.

This can be read as a stand alone but if you want to read it in order, you can start with Before Our Story Began and Jealousy. 

You were having a dream. A really nice dream about your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, where for once in his twenty-years of living, he promised himself not to whine about anything ever again for the rest of his life. He was situated in difficult positions—got an F for the papers that he’d worked on for days, overcooked his eggs until they tasted like a pile of ashes in his mouth during breakfast, or lost a battle because Jaemin was too distracted with Jeno’s dick rubbing against his ass during the game. And even then, he did not form any complaint or whine with his head thrown back like how he usually would’ve done. It was a pleasant dream, seeing him all mature like that.

But then you woke up to the sound of that boyfriend of yours, screaming—literally screaming—directly to your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL,” as if it wasn’t the middle of the night where he could wake up the whole dorm.

So now, you’re glowering at him with bleary eyes, wiping your drool away with the back of your hand. Haechan shows his phone screen, grinning when he sees you noticing with squinted eyes that it’s 00.00 am and the date written underneath it is your birthday.

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter, sinking your face back into the pillow and pulling the blanket over your head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Haechannie.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Your boyfriend is loud, too loud. You understand that Jaemin is having a sleepover at Jeno’s place so Haechan has the entire room for himself but that does not give him the right to scream right next to your ear like this. Especially when you’re this sleepy with nothing but exhaustion pumping through your veins.

“Noona~” He shakes you by the shoulder, peeling the blanket off your body and succeeding, even when you’ve tried your best to keep it tangled around you. “Come on, it’s your birthday. We have to celebrate!”

“We’ll celebrate when the sun is out. Like normal people.”

“No way, come on! You can sleep some other time!”

“You can be annoying some other time.”

He huffs loudly, puffing out his cheeks. “If you don’t get up, I’ll do things to you.”

You sigh. You know what kind of things he’s referring to and as much as you love it, you’re really drained from the part-time job you did earlier today. It’s true that you haven’t had sex with him for more than a week or so and you kind of miss doing those sort of things with him but you’re just so tired that you ended up crashing face-first on his bed earlier this evening the second you arrived in his room. You hadn’t even kissed him properly yet.

“Okay, fine.” You sit up on his bed with your shirt—or rather, his shirt—all wrinkled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “What do you want us to do? If it’s sex, you have to wait because I’m dead tired right now.”

“I wanted to give you your present, actually.” But the way he juts out his bottom lip seems like sex was exactly what he had in mind.

“Okay, so where is it?” You ask, considering you don’t really see him carrying a box of gift with a red bow wrapped around it.

“Well, it’s kinda predictable for me to be giving you like an actual present, so I thought hey, maybe I can grant you a wish. Any kind of wish,” he emphasizes, raising that eyebrow of his in the way he knows you like it. “If you know what I mean.”

You ignore him completely, though the sight of his sexy smirk still leaves you unfocused for a good few seconds. “Only one? On my birthday? Do you even want to do this or are you just making an excuse for not buying me a present?”

“Yah!” He scrunches his nose, playfully jabbing a finger to your stomach. “I don’t see you granting me any wishes on my birthday!”

“You wanted to come inside me and I allowed you to do just that. Twice. Stop being so ungrateful.”

That wipes the playful angry look off his face almost instantly. “You’re right, fine,” he concedes, looking at you with a disinterested look in his eyes. “How many wishes do you want then?”

“I don’t know, like, fifty?”

“The hell? Do I look like Santa to you?”

“If you keep eating those samgyeopsal past midnight, your belly will.”

“Stop body-shaming me, you little—“ He suddenly leaps over, attacking you with tickles to the sides of your stomach until you fall back to the bed with his bare chest hovering over your body. You retaliate by moving your legs around, trying to kick him away but failing every time. You can barely hold back your laughter. He only stops when your face grows scarlet and your chest heaving up and down, slightly out of breath. “I’ll give you three wishes,” he offers, a bit breathless as well. “Only because you look so irresistible right now with those lips of yours.”

“Make it ten, then.” You play with his necklace, twisting it around your finger. Your other hand draws a line on his golden skin, starting from the column of his neck down to his chest. “And I’ll be even more irresistible.”

“Hmm, tempting.” His lips slowly breaking into a sultry smile. “But no. I’ll give you three and that’s final.”

“If you give me five,” you say, hooking a finger around his silver necklace this time so you can bring his face down to yours and whisper in his ear, “I’ll let you cum in my mouth later today.”

His entire face beams up almost like a kid on his first school trip. “You get yourself a deal, sister!”

You smile, caressing his cheek softly with your fingers. His gaze softens, leaning against your touch like how a kitten would. “Well then, here’s my first wish,” you speak softly as if you’re telling a secret. Your lips are just a few inches away from his, and he licks his lower lip in anticipation. “No doing sexual activities whatsoever with me on my birthday.”

That sensual, excited look he has on his face earlier? Gone, being immediately replaced by sheer horror. “What?!” He shrieks when his realization sinks in. “BUT YOU SAID YOU’D LET ME CUM IN YOUR MOUTH LATER TODAY!”

You grin at him, almost cackling out loud. “It’s not fun being on the other side of a prank, is it now, Haechannie?”

“You’re so—” But even the infamous Lee Haechan can be at loss for words. “Not even a kiss?”

“Not even a hug,” you clarify, pushing his body away with both hands so he ends up sitting on his heels, only in his boxer. “I’ll allow you to hold my hands but that’s it.”

“But why?” The way he whines the word ‘why’, loud and long, is just so him. “Hugging is like a totally normal thing to do! People hug all the time! Even kids do! It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“It becomes sexual when you keep popping out a boner during one.”

“Screw you.”

“Not today, Haechannie. Not today.”

***

Haechan, no matter how bratty he can act from time-to-time, does keep his promise intact. He hasn’t touched you for like eight hours by now, even when you were taking a shower inside his room and ‘accidentally’ leaving the bathroom door open. You heard him groan, “Seriously? You’re doing this to me now? You’re torturing me, Nooonaaaaa~” once during your shower, but he didn’t act on his desire. You’re actually quite surprised. You know just how much this is driving him crazy.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” you say, already looking all dolled up in the red dress he once bought for you. You know how much he likes it, know how much his eyes ogle your body from top-to-toe, staring at the way the fabric hugs your body perfectly, emphasizing your every curve.

He glares at you menacingly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” You play dumb, though you're sure your grin betrays you. “Come on, I’m starving. I’ll let you hold my hand as we walk, just make sure don't get a hard-on in the meantime.”

“Have I told you I hate you today?”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

The cafe near the dormitory you usually visit to get your daily intake of calories is closed for the day. “Why are they closed?” You ask, adjoining your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Maybe the old man has diarrhea or something.” He shrugs, hands buried deep inside the pocket of his black ripped jeans. The way they tightly hug his legs, combined with those holes, is becoming very distracting for you. “I sure as hell, hope so.”

“Will you let it go already? It was an honest mistake.”

“How on earth is putting wasabi in my cream soup an honest mistake? He totally did that on purpose!”

“Yeah, well, knowing how you just straight-up told him he looked like a walrus, I’m not even surprised he spiked your soup.”

“Now that’s an honest mistake, in which I tried to be honest but came out as a mistake.”

“You didn’t have to tell him he looked like a walrus, though.”

“But he did!” He groaned, stomping his feet on the ground. “He totally did! Look me in the eyes and tell me he didn’t look like a walrus, come on, I dare you.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always one for the dramatic. “Should we go somewhere else? How hungry are you right now?”

“For your love?” He smirked, sending you a flirty wink. “Starving.”

You make an exaggerated gesture of you vomiting your insides. “If you’re not that hungry, wanna just go grab some crepes and take a walk in the park?”

“Sure, why not.” His shoulders are relaxed as he yawns unattractively, though it still counts as adorable in your book. “Let’s drop by to that bakery you told me before on the way home. I’m gonna buy you a birthday cake.”

That earns a surprised smile from you. “I didn’t think you’d be this thoughtful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always thoughtful.”

“Is calling a middle-aged man a walrus a form of your thoughtfulness?”

He snorts, tilting his head to the side with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Since when did you get this sassy?” You’re about to put another retort when he suddenly kisses your cheek.

“Hey!” You abruptly step away from him, palming the side of your face. “What did I tell you about my wish again?”

He grins, eyes turning into a cute pair of crescents. “Honest mistake, babe.”

And you poke him in the abs until he drops to his knees, whining, “Whyyyyyyyy?” into the air.

There’s this park near your campus that has nice scenery��unexpectedly picturesque, even—with a huge fountain in the center of it. The green leaves of the camphor trees sway from the morning breeze, intoxicating you with a scent similar to how the pine trees smell after the rain. Children are running around, playing tags, with their parents sitting next to the fountain, busying themselves with their phones while occasionally mutters, “Be careful, don’t run too much!” from time-to-time because apparently, that’s what parents do these days.

Haechan exhales loudly as he takes a seat on the nearest bench, straightening his legs and patting a spot beside him. “Come here. I want to cuddle.”

“There are people around.”

“Since when cuddling becomes a crime?”

“It makes people uncomfortable.”

“You saying no makes me uncomfortable.”

You sigh. There’s no way of winning an argument with him. “Fine, but I’m not sitting on your lap,” you say, ignoring his pout as you take a seat next to him and hand him his chocolate-banana crepes. “Careful, you’re wearing a white shirt,” you warn, offering him his spoon. “It’ll be hard to take the stain off if—”

“I’m not a child,” he grumbles, taking the food roughly off your hand and grimacing when the chocolate syrup drips down to his shirt, staining the fabric. He blinks in surprise with his mouth wide open, before he looks back at you, only to receive a flat stare in return.

“I literally just told you that a second ago.”

Haechan shrugs. “It’s Jaemin’s shirt anyway, so I don’t care.”

With that, you bring your focus back to the food in your hand—a strawberry crepes with a scoop of vanilla ice cream—and takes a bite, almost moaning in delight when the sugary taste hits your tongue. “Man, why did I ever decide to go on a diet? This tastes so gooooood~”

Your smile and small giggle seem to be contagious because Haechan mirrors you almost in the same way though it has nothing to do with the dessert he’s holding. He observes, silently taking notes of the joyful expressions you display on your face while muttering, “How cute,” under his breath. Both of you take a moment to enjoy your so-called breakfast, sometimes taking a sip of your hot coffee to balance the sweet.

“You know,” Haechan says as he gnaws at his dessert again. “This isn’t really how I expected to go when I said I’d grant your wishes.”

“Yeah?” You decide to humor him, though you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you expect me to wish for something else?”

He nods, licking chocolate syrup off his spoon. “Something about you sitting on my face.”

You choke on a piece of strawberry you just plopped into your mouth, and you can feel it blocking your airways. “What are you—” Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes, as you begin to cough fervently.

“What are you, a kid?” Haechan pulls your hair away from your face, patting your back. “There, there.”

“Why on earth would I ask about that?!” You shout when you can properly breathe again.

“I don’t know, I just thought that maybe you wanted me to eat you out.” The way he shrugs so nonchalantly as if he’s simply talking about finding a typo in the papers he just submitted leaves you dumbfounded. “I mean, I kept teasing you about it during sex but never really did it since you were always too stubborn to beg.”

“And do you realize now how annoying you are in bed?”

“That’s not my intention, though!” He genuinely seems a bit guilty. “You just look so cute trying to hold back when it’s obvious you want my tongue inside you—”

“We’re in public, Jesus Christ—”

“It’s your pride that we have a problem with. Why can’t you just for once say, with teary eyes, ‘Haechannie, please, fuck me with your tongue’—”

“People can hear—stop it!” You try to clamp your palm around his mouth, but he dodges it perfectly and places a playful kiss on the back of your hand instead. “And are you seriously begging me to beg you for it? I don’t think that’s how it works, Hyuck.”

“It’s because I actually really want to eat you out,” he groans, sighing into the air, “But I also want to see that cute embarrassed look on your face—do you see how big of a problem this is for me?” His whine falls short when he notices the look on your face. “Wait, are you blushing?”

“I’m not!” But you know you are, you’ve never been so ashamed before. How can you not? Your boyfriend is now a) talking about eating you out, loudly, in public, b) there’s this one passerby, a middle-aged woman who dresses in way too many layers for a day as hot as this, looking at you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen displayed on a person’s face, and c) Haechan is still talking about it. “Shut up and just get away from me!”

“Noona, your face is so red!” He’s giggling to himself now, his crepes dribbling more chocolate syrup onto his shirt from how much he’s moving. “Did I get you excited? Does this mean you’re gonna—”

“Next wish! I’ve already thought about my next wish!” You quickly avert his attention, desperately pushing his face with one hand so he’ll stop making kissy faces at you. “I want you to perform a song.”

“What, here?”

“Yeah, you don’t have a problem singing in front of people, right?”

“Of course not,” he snorts loudly. “I have an amazing voice. You know, people should really be paying me to hear me sing, actually.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, though deep down in your heart, you kind of admit that he really does have an amazing voice. His vocal is unique and distinct, easily noticeable even if there are a hundred vocalists in the room. And the way he does his adlibs whenever he sings his favorite tunes actually makes the song sounds a thousand times better. There’s no way you’re going to tell that to his face, though. His ego is already big enough without you feeding him compliments.

“Well then, you’re in luck.” You grin mischievously, nodding your head toward a band that’s been playing acoustic songs near the fountain for quite some time. There are three people playing instruments, with one of them being the vocalist and you comment inwardly in your head that Haechan sounds so much better than him—but maybe you’re just biased. The band is promoting their demo album, trying to get people’s attention to recognize their self-composed songs and buy their album if they fit their taste. No crowds  are gathering in front of them, and you feel kind of sorry because they actually sound pretty good. “If you follow my wish and do it right, you could probably get some tips along the way.”

“You want me to sing with the band? I don’t think they’ll allow me though.”

“They will. I’ll buy their album in exchange.”

Haechan doesn’t seem eager at the slightest. “Must we waste our money away?”

“What, are you scared?” You taunt, raising one of your eyebrows challengingly because you know how much he hates to lose. And it works as expected, because Haechan is now standing up, throwing the rest of his crepes away to the nearest trash bin, and cracks his knuckles.

“Lee Haechan never runs away from a challenge.” He has this annoying cocky grin displayed on his face. “Tell me what song you want me to sing.”

“Your favorite. Man in The Mirror.”

“Dude, I nailed that song. Is this even a challenge?” He clicks his tongue, cocking his head. “So easy.”

He already has taken a few steps away, heading toward the band, when you stop him dead on his tracks by saying, “I know you nailed it. That’s why we have to keep it interesting so here’s my wish: I want you to sing out of tune.”

Even if you said that he was turning on his heels at the speed of light, it wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration. “NO FUCKING WAY.”

“Ah, but sadly,” you fake a pout, mocking him, “You promised you’d grant my wish.”

“But that’s just stupid! Why would I do something like that? Why would anyone do something like that?” He shakes his head furiously. “And doing this to my favorite singer?! Hell no!”

“Haechannie.”

“No.”

“Haechannie.”

“NO.”

You sigh, walking closer to him and pull him down by the hand to close the gap between your heights and murmur in his ear. “If you do that,” you breathe out, trying your best to sound as sexy as you can, “I might consider buying that customized dildo you want this weekend.”

Haechan has his jaw hanging low on his face, looking at you with his wide eyes shaking in disbelief. “Oh my God,” he whines, placing both hands on your shoulders before rocking you back and forth. “Noonaaaaa~ This is soooo not fair. You can’t do this to me!”

You chuckle at how childish he is. “So, how is it going to be, Lee Donghyuck-sshi?”

He contemplates hard about it—really hard, probably the hardest thinking he ever did in his entire life—nibbling on his lower lip as he does it. After a moment has passed, he finally ends it with his signature pout. “But you promise, right? No pranking me this time?”

“I promise,” you say with a firm nod but you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

“Fine,” he says as if it was the heaviest decision he has ever made. “Then, I’ll sing… off-key—eww!” He sticks out his tongue, clutching his arms around his stomach. “I’m about to throw up my crepes just by thinking about it.”

“Good luck.” You pat his shoulder. “Oh, and make sure you sing the first part like you always do, so people will notice and start listening to how amazing your voice is. And when they’re so into it, as you get to the second chorus, that’s when you start singing off-key.”

Haechan’s eyes are lifeless when they bore into you. “Isn’t it time for you to go back to hell, Satan?”

“Remember, Haechannie,” you press a finger to your lips, winking at him. “Customized. Dildo.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too.”

So both of you get into the business. After the band performed an acoustic version of their titled song, you approach them with a smile, offering your hand to the vocalist. You tell them how talented they are, making sure to bedazzle them with compliments and your charming attitudes so things can go as planned. It’s actually not that hard trying to convince them to accompany your boyfriend sing, especially when you say you’re going to buy two of their demo albums.

“What song do you want to sing, dude?” The vocalist, a friendly man most likely in his twenties with a goatee on his face, asks Haechan while offering a fist bump. Your boyfriend grimaces, bumping his fist against him like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever done.

“Something wrong?” The man asks. “You look kinda pale, man.”

“He just ate something bad during breakfast earlier,” you come to answer him instead, rubbing Haechan’s back soothingly. “But he’s fine now. Can you guys play Man in The Mirror?”

“Michael Jackson, right? Sure thing.”

You elbow your boyfriend playfully on the side of his stomach. “Sure thing, he said.”

“I want to die.”

“Aaw, poor baby,” you pucker your lips, having the best time of your life making fun of him. “Now off you go, I’ll be right here.” And you bring your iPhone in the air, camera-ready with a tap of your thumb. Haechan has his eyes on the standing microphone, looking at it like it’s the most horrifying thing he’s ever witnessed in his life.

Haechan just barely takes a step forward before he runs back to your spot again, all jumpy and twitchy. “I can’t—I can’t do this—this is so embarrassing—”

“On three, okay, man?” The vocalist takes a seat on one of the little stools they have placed next to the amplifiers with his Fender guitar placed firmly on his lap. And before Haechan can give him a nod or any sign in return, he begins counting and the entire band plays the song. There’s no way out of this now.

Haechan finally walks toward the mic with his soul most likely leaving his body with every step he takes.

You give him a cheer as loud as you can—not to support him, but so you can gather people’s attention. Haechan shushes you down in panic before he finally takes the mic, constantly throwing ice daggers at you with his eyes. You begin to chant his name—“Lee Donghyuck! Lee Donghyuck!”—and with every shout of it, Haechan dies a little bit more.

Haechan falls two beats behind before he finally sings into the microphone, his voice resonating through the air. He does sound amazing, albeit a little nervous and that’s probably just because he’s doing the dare. He usually sounds confident, his voice sounding strong and clear not caring if the room is empty or filled with people so this anxious version of him really makes you think that maybe you’ve forced him a little bit too far.

He completes the first part of the song rather easily and the entire band behind him nod their heads along to the music, amazement sparkling in their eyes. You can see the vocalist quietly mouths, “Damn, he’s good,” to the member sitting beside him who shortly agrees wholeheartedly. You can’t help but smile at that, looking like a proud mom.

People, one-by-one, begin to gather around you, whispering to one another, asking, “Who is he? What band is this?” or simply praising his vocal and your smile grows wider. It vanishes almost instantly, though, the second you hear some girls chattering behind your back, talking about how attractive Haechan looks—especially in that leather jacket and those dark combat boots he’s wearing. You never pegged yourself to be a jealous, overprotective girlfriend before but with Haechan, perhaps you’re beginning to turn exactly into that.

Haechan, who seems pretty pleased with how he sang the first part, suddenly begins to fidget on his feet. The more he gets closer to the second chorus, the paler he becomes and he has his eyes tightly shut when he’s finally there, singing the first two lines in the right way before forcing himself to sing off-key.

You blurt out laughing but immediately clasp a hand over your mouth. Haechan looks like he’s in pain, and the rest of the band has their eyebrows furrowed in question, looking back and forth at each other, probably asking, what the hell is wrong with this dude, he was doing so good before. The audience begins to look at one another, eyebrows knitting in concern. New visitors stop in their tracks, looking at your boyfriend with judging looks on their faces. Even the parents that were so busy with their phones before begin to lift their heads from the screen, trying to know who is this terrible singer and why is he wailing like this.

Haechan sounds so awful and you can only imagine how much this is killing him from the inside. He barely gets to the end of the second chorus before he turns to face the band, bowing his head and shouting, “I’m so sorry!” before he scrambles on his feet, running toward you.

“Wait, Hyuck, you haven’t finished—” Your protest ends in laughter when Haechan rashly hooks an arm around your shoulder, breaking through the crowd and forcing you to match his steps so you can leave the park for good.

He’s never stepping into this place ever again, you’re sure of it.

***

On the way back to the dorm, you stop by the bakery you’ve been wanting to visit and Haechan buys you a birthday cake as promised but with a permanent pout displayed on his place.

“A cake for your girlfriend?” The cashier lady asks with a friendly smile.

Haechan simply pouts harder, muttering, “Yes, my super annoying girlfriend.” And you pop out from behind his back, raising a hand in the air as you beam at her with a cheeky grin, “Yep, that’s me!”

Haechan walks next to you on the sidewalk as if he just did the longest marathon he ever did in his life—all drained out and slow on his steps. His shoulders are hunched forward, his eyes droopy and every time you take a peek and share a glance at him, he’ll start fuming again—like an angry child, upset for being left alone in his grandma’s house while the whole family went on a trip.

“Okay, knowing how fast you’re walking right now,” you mutter sarcastically, looking at the nonexistent watch you wear around your wrist for dramatic effects, “We’ll be back in our dorm at approximately eighty-four years from now.”

“Whatever. I’m still angry at you.”

“But we just started! I thought you wanted to make me happy.” You try to look as sad as possible, batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s my birthday, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware that making you happy equals giving me emotional distress.” After two seconds passed by in silence, he adds, “And physical pain.”

You smile at the attitude he’s giving, wondering just how cute can this man be by the end of the day. Maybe you should keep torturing him a little.

Just a little bit more.

“Haechannie,” you roll his name off your tongue in a playful manner, wrapping both arms around his right one. “I’m ready for my next wish.”

“Didn’t you listen to any word I just said?”

“See that old lady over there?”

“Yeah, you clearly didn’t.” Haechan follows your gaze with a heavy sigh, not quite pleased with how easily you ignore his complaints, and he sees a grey-haired woman, old enough to be his grandmother, sitting alone on a bench with a book on her hands and her glasses hanging dangerously low on the bridge of her nose. Her cane lays still on her side, and by the look of it, she appears to be waiting for someone.

“Oh come on, leave her alone,” Haechan says, already looking sorry for her even when you haven’t said anything yet. “She’s so old and she looks so frail. I am not going to do your stupid dare at the cost of her life.”

You roll your eyes.“Relax, I won’t ask something that stupid.”

“Oh, because your first wish was just so brilliant, I suppose?”

“I’m serious, I’m not that mean.” Not to her, at least. “I just want you to sit next to her on the bench and act like it’s the worst day of your life.”

“I won’t be calling that acting,” he grumbles. “I am having the worst day of my life.”

“What? I thought we’re having fun!” You try so hard to look sympathetic enough for him but it’s almost an impossible deed to do when you’re seconds away from laughing.

“You’re having fun.” He squints his eyes menacingly. “I’m having a fucking seizure.”

“You’re fine, don’t be too dramatic.” You card your fingers through his hair, pushing back the bangs from his eyes to showcase his temple exactly the way you like it. “Well, I want you to act sad—like, really sad, bawling your eyes out and everything—and when she asks you why, explain that you just found out you’re adopted.” You press something against his palm. “Here.”

Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he takes a look at it. “What’s this?”

“A postcard with a picture of your parents. I just bought it at the minimart before when you were in the bakery.”

“But…” He stares in horror. “They’re Americans.”

“Exactly.” You know there’s a shit-eating grin blooming on your face but you cannot wipe it off. “You can walk away after she tries to comfort you or give you some advice or something.”

Haechan keeps scowling at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, but you charm him with your brightest smile until he sighs and tucks the postcard in the back pocket of his jeans. “You know I’ll pay you back for this later, right?”

“Wha—I thought you said you’ll grant me any wishes for free!”

“MAN, IF I COULD JUST TURN BACK TIME—“ He yanks out his hair, making you a bit worried because you love his soft, adorable brown locks and he’s been tugging at them for quite some time today. “Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I no longer have any shame left in my body anyway. Or soul, for that matter.” He turns on his heels, straightening his jacket as if that could give him more courage. “You better not blink your eyes.”

“It’s okay even if I do.” You bring out your phone, waving it in the air. “’Cause I’m recording it. This will go viral on Youtube.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

It takes a good ten minutes for Haechan to prepare himself for the stupid dare he’s about to do, even though he previously claimed he had no shame whatsoever. He paces back-and-forth at the sidewalk, stomping his feet once or twice restlessly, and mutters quietly to himself, “Man up. Man up, you idiot. It’s just a stupid dare.” You desperately want to have a miniature size of this Haechan and keeps him inside your pocket so you can watch him being nervously cute all day long with his cheeks puffed in anger.

“Okay, I’m going.” And he finally steps forward, braver this time, and sits down on the other end of the bench, twiddling his fingers in anxiety. You bite your lip to contain your laughter and press record.

Almost fifteen seconds have passed by and there’s no reaction, not even a glance, coming from the old lady. You can see Haechan nibbling persistently on his lip, his feet tapping worriedly on the ground before he finally lets out the loudest, heaviest sigh in the history of mankind. It’s so loud that it makes the old lady jumps on her seat, her hands going to her chest, her book left abandoned on her lap. Haechan also looks surprised knowing that she’s surprised and everything just looks so hilarious that your camera begins to shake from how hard you try not to laugh.

“I-is there something wrong, my dear?” The old lady asks, shifting her body a little on her seat so she can face him properly.

Haechan takes a deep breath and begins his act by burying his face in his hands, faking a sob. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I just—” He sniffles loudly, trying to make it obvious to her that he’s in agony. “It’s the worst day of my life.”

And it’s cheesy, how he acts, but she seems to buy it—or maybe she’s just too kind. “May I ask what happened? I’m not sure I can help but…” She lands her shaky hand on his back, caressing him soothingly. “It’s always better to pour your feelings out instead of bottling them inside.”

She sounds so genuinely compassionate, unlike the maniacal laughter that currently tumbles down your lips.

Haechan lifts his head, turning towards her. His eyes begin to droop, making him look like a kicked puppy. “I just found out…” He sniffs for dramatic effects. “That… That I’m adopted!” And he loudly whimpers into his hands again.

The old lady gasps, covering her parted lips with her thin fingers. “Oh my… Did your parents tell you that?”

“No, it’s even worse. I found out on my own when they were talking in their room.” Haechan rummages his back pocket, handing her the postcard. “Here, look. It’s a picture of my parents.”

The lady takes the postcard with a pair of heartbroken eyes but they soon begin to change when she notices that the two people in the picture are straight-up Americans, while Haechan, needless to say at this point, looks like the most common—though far more handsome—Korean boy you can encounter on daily basis.

“I know,” Haechan says, wiping a nonexistent tear out of his eyes and fakes another sob. “Surprising, isn’t it? I mean, we look so much alike, there’s no way I would’ve guessed I was adopted if I didn’t hear them talking about it behind my back.”

The old lady is still pretty much dumbstruck with how bizarrely stupid everything is, but she’s too kind to call him out on it. She hands the postcard back to him, looking much less sorry this time, and takes a moment of silence. Haechan cries against his palms again, and you wonder if he’s only faking it or being real about it this time because the entire situation is just painfully awkward.

“You see, my dear,” she begins, voice gentle and reassuring but the sincerity isn’t really the same as before. “Sometimes it really can feel like the world is ending, and I know that this must be hard for you,” she stops to knit her eyebrows, “no matter how obvious this should’ve appeared to you. But maybe it’s not about having a picture-perfect family, but about finding beautiful moments.”

“You’re right,” Haechan hurriedly agrees, his eyes twinkling in delight knowing that this excruciating dare is about to end. “I’m happy with them being my family, even if they’re not, you know, really my parents.”

She smiles but it kind of looks like a grimace, and she says her next words with a gentle pat on his back. “But shouldn’t you have noticed about it sooner, though, dear? You look nothing like them.”

And Haechan winces, not sure how to react. “I could be, uhh…” He licks his lips nervously. “Quite dumb, sometimes.”

“Yes,” she nods, still patting his back. “You certainly can.”

A tall man, at least ten years older than Haechan, approaches their spot with a paper bag in his arms. “Mom, are you ready to—” he stops to take a look at your boyfriend, trying to understand the situation of why is his mother sitting way too close to a guy dressed flirtatiously in a leather jacket and boots with her hand caressing his back. “What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m adopted,” Haechan says, handing him the same stupid picture. “She’s just consoling me about it.”

He takes a look and sends him his biggest judging look. “Dude, what are you, stupid?”

***

Haechan is still fuming all the way back to his dorm and no matter how much you apologize about it, he still doesn’t want to talk to you. He throws himself on his bed with his shoes still on the second he enters his room. You’re still smiling quietly to yourself, can barely handle all the cuteness he’s emitting.

“Haechannie,” you gently call, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Are you still upset?”

No answer.

“Look, I said, I’m sorry. Talk to me, please?”

Haechan has his face pressed flat against his comforter and you secretly wonder whether he can even breathe in that position. A few seconds passed by in silence before Haechan finally mumbles, “Did it make you happy?”

“What, you doing my stupid dares?” You can already feel another laughter bubbling up your throat but you have to contain it. You can’t hurt him more than this. “Yes and I know I’ve been mean to you and I’m sorry for that, but you were so cute.” You run a hand along his spine before you carefully caress his hair as a mother would do to a child. “Please don’t be mad.”

He eventually sits up, crossing his legs on the bed, sniffling a little bit while still avoiding eye contact. “Well, I guess, as long as you’re happy.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” he states, practically puffing out his cheeks by now. “I’m just so embarrassed with all of this. Why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come here.” You motion him to come closer, and you know it’s breaking the rules of your first wish but you don’t care. This giant teddy bear desperately needs a hug.

Haechan immediately sighs when you stand with your knees pressed on the bed, wrapping both arms around his head. He sinks his face to the crook of your neck, lowly murmuring, “I hate you,” with his breath fanning your skin.

“You’ve been saying that a lot.”

“Yeah, because you’re mean.”

“But I love you even more today,” you softly reply, pulling away a little so you can trace your fingers along the smoothness of his cheek. “You’re so adorable, Hyuck, do you know that?”

“Is singing out of tune and harassing old lady your kink or something?”

“That’s not it.” You pinch the bridge of his nose, making him yelp a little. “It’s just the way you forced yourself to do these things—these things you hate the most—for me and asking me whether they made me happy or not, while still being all grumpy about it. You’re just so cute and I love you for that.”

The sun is setting outside his window, illuminating his face with such a warm, beautiful glow that somehow makes him appear a bit more melancholic and angelic at the same time. He finally drags his eyes back on yours, with his bottom lip still jutting out slightly. He says the next four words so quietly under his breath that you can barely hear them. “What?”

“I said, I love you too,” he repeats in a rush, before he sinks his face in the slope of your neck again, whining all the way. “Don’t make me say it like this, it’s weird.”

And you notice that this is actually the first time he truly confesses his love for you. He’s joked about it a lot, toying with your feelings at least ten times within a day, casually throwing the word love as if it meant nothing more than mere decoration for his flirtatious lines. But now that he’s saying it in all the seriousness he can muster, he can barely look you in the eyes, can barely say it without whispering, and it’s cute how the usually confident Lee Haechan, crumbles into nothing but a shy little boy facing his feelings for the first time.

“Ah seriously,” he murmurs against your hair. “What are you doing to me? I’m not usually like this.”

You can’t help but tease him. “Yes, you’re usually more satanic.”

“Yah—”

And you stop him with a soft kiss to his lips. You can feel him taking a sharp breath, his arms stiffening as they circle your waist. You’re about to kiss him again when you feel him tensing against your body. Noticing how he looks a bit baffled, you carefully tug yourself away. “What is it?”

“I thought you said we couldn’t kiss today,” he tells in such a small voice.

“I said no sexual activities,” you retort with a sly smirk, making a poor excuse because you really miss kissing him. “This isn’t sexual,” you say, pressing your lips against his again but stop before he can return it. “This is romantic.”

He’s so distracted with your lips that he can barely take his eyes off them even when he talks. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You can’t help but grin but it does not stay long when Haechan suddenly hooks his arm around your hip and pulls you closer until you’re forced to climb into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist for balance.

“Haechan—” Your protest is swallowed by his kiss, his lips chasing after yours almost frantically. You can tell how much he misses you from the way his lips move against yours, or from the way he moans softly at the back of his throat as he settles his hand on the side of your face. His other hand holds you tighter by the waist, his fingers fisting the fabric of your dress. He angles your head to the side, kissing you with parted lips and swiping his tongue along your lower one so you’ll gain him entrance.

“Noona,” he whispers between quick breaths, sounding almost needy. “Noona, I need—”

“Okay, stop.” You place your arms on his shoulders, expanding the space between you. You can’t believe you almost got carried away. “Now this is getting sexual. Let’s head over to my next wish.”

“Wait—but I’m—” He stares at you bewilderedly, not believing the fact that you just casually drag your body away from his lap, smoothen down your hair as if nothing just happened. “Are you serious? You’re playing with me again? When I’m like this?”

“Sorry.” You peck him on the cheek, hiding your grin. “So, for my next wish—”

“Yah! Listen to what I’m saying—”

“I want you to—”

“Noonaaaaaaaa~”

“—sing me a lullaby.” His whining stops abruptly at your words and you quickly explain further before he does it again, “I’m sleepy so I’m gonna take a nap. Your job is to sing me a lullaby until I fall asleep. Easy, right?”

“You really just do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Only for today. You, on the other hand, do that every day.”

“Fair enough. Do I get to choose the song?”

“Sure.” Knocking your high heels off your feet, you lie down on his bed with a thump, contentedly basking in his scent because his pillows, the duvet underneath you, the soft sheet below your fingertips—everything smells pleasantly like him. Haechan takes off his shoes and his leather jacket—which almost earns a loud protest from you because he looks so good with that jacket on—throwing them somewhere near the bed without care and he lies down by your side, facing you.

You turn your body to face him as well. “Hey, handsome.” You smile sheepishly at him.

He seems a bit caught off guard by it, but smiles back. “Hi.”

“Can we cuddle?”

He laughs softly at that. “Come here.” He gathers your entire figure easily in his arms and you sink your nose to his chest, humming in pleasure. “Stop being so cute, you’re torturing me.” You only giggle in response.

Haechan begins to sing, slowly at first as if he suddenly feels pressured with the way the room is so deep in silence, leaving no excuse for him to make in case he fails. You notice that, so you sneak both of your arms around his waist, snuggling even closer. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

“I’m not. Why would I be?” He masks his slightly shaky voice with a chuckle. “It’s just that your hair keeps getting into my mouth whenever I try to sing.”

“Of course.” And you keep your lips tightly shut, giving him the time he needs.

Haechan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Had a perfect picture in my head, with you in the most beautiful dress,” he sings, beautiful notes flowing down from his lips, making you feel like everything around you becomes a blur and there’s only him with his velvety voice and his soft, warm breathing. “I look happy as ever, how did I let you go again.”

He gains confidence with more seconds passing by and you can feel his arms growing slack around your waist, no longer as tense. “Now I'm standing alone in the rain, like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time, but I know this time it's real.”

You’re not sure whether it’s because of the lyrics or the way he sings, but as beautiful as his honeyed voice sounds, you can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness growing inside you. It’s as if he’s not singing the song, he’s living through it. And you wonder maybe he’s had his heart broken by someone before—or maybe he’s just so good at putting emotions to his song, you’re still not sure yet.

“Hate that I'm singing this song. Hate that I have to be strong.” Haechan absentmindedly runs his fingers up and down your spine, before he tangles them around the strands of your hair, gently stroking them. “Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else. Hate everything. Just hate everything right now.”

It’s so genuine and soft the way he serenades you, baring his soul and you’re not even looking at his eyes as he sings it. By the end of it, you can’t help but ask him a question. “Will you be singing that song if you ever break up with me?”

He curls up closer, burying the tip of his nose in your hair. “No,” he says but continues before your disappointment can sink in, “If we ever break up, I won’t be doing anything besides getting you back. I don’t like to lose, you know how I am. And I definitely don’t want to lose something—or rather, someone—this important to me.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you chime in, pulling away a little so you can take a look at his face. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers.”

But Haechan doesn’t smile or act cocky about it. He just takes his time analyzing your face, taking in your features as he trails his fingers down from your hair, to your cheek, and finally stopping at the curve of your lips. “I was so worried before though when you met your ex behind my back. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just…” He loses his words when you begin to kiss his fingertips, his eyes becoming unfocused. “I don’t know, I just got anxious about it. I’ve never had someone like you before so…”

It really just sinks in that he wasn’t merely angry because you were seeing your ex-boyfriend again, he was just afraid. He was terrified of losing you but didn’t know how to react properly. He keeps on telling that you belong to him, that he owns you and everything but he doesn’t intend to dominate you. It’s just a way for him to convince himself that you’re still with him, and not in someone else’s arms.

You can feel your lips curving up into a smile. He’s just a clueless boy, probably still as inexperienced as you are when it comes to love.

You’re sinking more into his arms, sighing as he rakes his fingers down your spine. When silence starts to hang in the air, tension growing thick, Haechan spares you a glance. “Noona?”

You’re not sure what it is inside you that drives you wild but when you’re awake from your reverie, your lips are on his again, melting against his heat, and desperately asking him to deepen the kiss.

The way he inadvertently moans against your lips indicates that your kiss catches him off guard but he soon finds back his pace. He crawls on top of you, pressing your body closer, chest meeting chest, and murmurs your name with his silvery voice against your ear, successfully sending goosebumps to every inch of your body.

“Forget my first wish.” You can barely recognize your own voice from how husky it has become. He has his lips tracing your jawline, about to map his way down but you keep him still, not wanting to erase the warmth of his lips on yours just yet. “It’s a stupid wish anyway. I don’t know why I even asked that.”

Haechan forms a space between you, just to take another look at your face. His eyes are hooded, gleaming with desire. “Well then,” he rubs his thumb along your lower lip, while his tongue traces his own. “Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes.” It sounds more like a plead than affirmation, strongly painted with urgency. “Come here.”

Haechan’s lips are warmer than how they usually felt but you can’t be certain. It’s been a while since you last shared an intimate moment with him and you just now realized that it really isn’t just him who desperately seeks attention. You crave his touch way more than he does for yours.

But maybe that’s not true after all, because Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed as he kisses you passionately, his lips keep searching for yours whenever you try to pull away to catch a breath. The way he sinks his fingers along your hips, how determined he is in keeping you close to the point you can start counting on his eyelashes—everything that he does screams his emotions vividly. How much he longs for you. How much he misses the taste of your breath on his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, your fingers pressed against his jaw. “Please…”

Haechan blinks, a bit startled and perhaps a tad confused as well, considering you stopped him from going too far earlier. But he doesn’t complain and takes every chance he can get, if it means he can be closer to you. It’s so soft, the way he kisses you now, as if he’s having his first kiss, not sure if he’s doing it right but you don’t mind. It’s rare, being kissed by him like this, and somehow it makes your skin tingle as if merely just a touch of his lips is sending electricity to your entire body.

“I love you,” you whisper as you share his breath. “I really do love you, Hyuck.”

The way he halts his action for a good two seconds, probably letting your words sink into his head, makes your own heart skip a beat or two. And you’re worried if you say too much, or if you’ve become too needy and it annoys him, but when you sneak a glance at him, you notice how his cheeks are tainted with red before he leans closer, roughly murmuring, “Just kiss me again,” against your lips.

But the way he’s holding your body makes you feel way more loved than the words he said earlier. And he’s taking his time, just gently moves his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in only slightly to steal a taste. But you sigh against his mouth either way because it’s not only his kiss that weakens you, it’s his entire presence—the way his warmth seeps through the fabric of your dress, the way he’s holding back a moan when you unconsciously tug his locks a little bit too hard, or the way he just naturally smells so sweet, almost honey-like, numbing your other senses at once.

“Noona,” he breathes heavily, tilting his head to the side so you’ll have better access to running your lips against the skin of his neck. “I want… I need…” he trails off, too busy looking at the way you’re slipping your fingers underneath his shirt, tracing his hot feverish skin with your cold digits. “I really need you now.”

“Then keep touching me,” you mumble against his jaw, searching for his lips again. “I want to feel you too. Come closer.” But even if your words speak a sense of urgency, your fingers still feel as light as a feather on his skin and he seems to notice that, because he’s keeping up the same pace, not suddenly rushing to tear your clothes apart like how he usually does.

He chants your name over and over again, almost like a prayer, his desire running thick in his veins. As he moves down, his fingers find their way to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, and he takes his time to kiss every inch of your body that’s revealed to him one by one.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do this to you,” he confesses, his nose skimming along the skin of your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You arch your back, desperately needing to close the space between you. “I’ve missed you too.”

And you’re half-expecting him to put on a smirk and asks, “Yeah? How much, exactly?” But this time, he doesn’t. His lips are busy marking your skin, sucking gently at the spot that makes you curl your toes. He brings his eyes back to yours again when your lips moan out his name.

“Don’t do that,” he says, looking like he’s gradually losing control of himself. “You know how that drives me crazy.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I love it, but—” He suddenly presses his lips hard against yours, as if there’s another person inside him that’s been screaming at him to latch his lips with yours before he wastes more second talking nonsense. And you try to reciprocate the movement of his lips with the same speed but he doesn’t give you much room to improvise. He knows what he’s doing, all you need to do is just relax and blend into the kiss. He already makes everything so easy for you. The problem is, he makes you feel like something is pressing against your chest and your stomach is doing crazy flips over and over again.

He finally stops again when you gasp his name.

“Ah, no, seriously.” It’s like he’s fighting a battle within himself, pulling away from you and shaking his head. “I want to take it slow today, Noona, but you moaning my name like that is not making it easy for me so please, just don’t—” He exhales, pressing his temple against yours with his eyes closed. “Don’t torture me like that.”

It’s cute how he tries to hold back, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I’m fine with the way you usually hold me, though.” It’s tempting, and he’s pretty much dazed with the sultry smirk you have on your face, but he shakes his head again, snapping him back from his own thoughts.

“No, it’s your birthday,” he says, eyes switching back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he tries to enunciate his reason. “I want to make it special.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “So you’re saying that all the sex we did before today wasn’t special to you?”

He gapes. “No, that’s not—”

“Just kidding.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Okay, then, do your thing.” You sit up straight so you can undress properly and his eyes are instantly glued to your chest when your bra slips down your shoulders. You don’t really intend to make it sexy, but the way his eyes grow wide when you say “I’m all yours,” and lies down on his bed again in nothing but your laced underwear seems to indicate that that’s exactly how you look in his mind.

He mutters an almost inaudible fuck under his breath before he snaps himself out of his reverie again. He stands with his knees pressed on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before he hovers back on top of you, peppering wet kisses from your ear to your neck before he ends it with his tongue trailing down the valley of your breasts.

He stops to reach for his drawer, searching for a condom while you struggle to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans. You’re finished a few seconds sooner and already have your back pressed against the sheet again when he crawls on top of you with a packet of condom between his teeth.

“No, wait.” You catch him by his arm as he’s about to tear the package with his teeth. “I’m on the pill today too so you can do it without.”

“Well, fuck,” he exhales, latching his lips back to yours again. “Why are you being so nice to me today?”

“You literally just complained about me being mean to you a few minutes ago.”

“Well, now that I get to come inside you again, I’m taking all my words back.” He gives playful kisses on your nose and cheeks before he licks around your face like how a cute little puppy would.

“Stop it, you’re gross!” But your airy laughter soon begins to vanish, only to be replaced with a sense of uncertainty. You begin to feel nervous when he hooks his fingers around the edge of your underwear and pulling it down your legs, baring yourself completely for his eyes. He’s seen you naked countless times and you never really felt this nervous before so it must be because—

“You seem to be thinking about something,” he interrupts, parting your legs so he can slide in between them. “Something wrong?”

“Umm—I—“ It’s not the way you stutter that betrays you; it’s the prominent blush that stains your cheeks. But you have to do this. You have to say this. Not just for your sake, but his too. “Haechannie..?”

“Yeah, Noona?”

“For my next wish…” You wet your lip anxiously, swallowing your breath, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “C-can you eat me out, please…?”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so startled by your action—or by anything, really—to the point that he has to remind himself to blink. “What?”

You groan, hastily grabbing a pillow nearby and use it to cover your face. “Don’t make me say it again, you idiot!” You expect him to laugh, or worse, mock you about it but instead, he snatches the pillow away, throwing it to the side, and wraps his fingers around your wrists, holding you in place.

“Noona, please,” he pleads, his cheeks turning scarlet, mirroring yours. “Please say it again. I want to see you when you say it.”

It’s actually borderline hilarious the way he’s so serious about it, and perhaps it’s really his biggest turn on—one that he hasn’t seen coming from you after all this time—so you decide to swallow your pride and indulge him further.

You repeat your words and watch as his eyes widened again for a split second before they turn gentle, looking so happy that you finally get to answer his wish. “About damn time,” he whispers against your lips, his husky voice reverberating nicely to your ears as he tastes every bit of your mouth with his tongue. He wastes no more time, heading south while placing more wet kisses down your body.

His lips are hovering above your heat, and you can really feel his breath down there. You have your eyes closed in anticipation but Haechan suddenly says, “You know what, let’s do it this way.”

He leaves you hanging and you’re about to be swallowed by shame but he suddenly lies down on the bed, his head almost touching the headboard, and motions you to come closer. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he says and you almost choke on your saliva. “Come here, Noona. Please.”

And it stresses you out so much because you’ve never done this before—never even thought about it even—and you figured you just had to lay there and let him do whatever he wants with you. Crawling over to sit on his face is clearly not what you had in mind.

“Come on,” he lightly sneers when he sees how nervous you are. “I won’t bite.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, feeling a little bit lightheaded from how embarrassed you are, but when he offers a hand, you take it and follow his lead.

You have your legs on each side of his head and he’s holding you by your hips, guiding you to lower yourself down to him. “Stop being so tense,” he chuckles and you flinch because he’s so dangerously close. “It’s not like I’ve never seen you up-close before.”

“It’s different—” You gasp when he swipes his tongue against your folds, just once, before he asks, “Different how?”

You’re too occupied with sorting out your feelings and all these sensations that coming into your head at once. “I don’t know, it’s weird—” You almost whine when you feel him moving his tongue again.

“Your thighs are shaking, Noona,” he chuckles, and you clench your teeth, trying to be less conscious of how his hot breath hitting your sensitive spot.

“Please, s-stop talking.”

“I’m trying to make this casual,” he says, his voice sounding less clear as it hits your skin. “If I stop talking, you’re gonna start thinking about things again.”

“I’m not—Haechannie—” You bring your fingers to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning too loud. He’s giving tentative licks around your clit, moving agonizingly slow and you fumble with your hands, not knowing where to place them. Everything feels both terrifyingly good and painfully awkward and you’re trapped between wanting to continue and stop at the same time.

“Here,” Haechan offers, taking one of your hands and guides it down until it finds home in his hair. “Or you can lay your hands against the headboard. But I prefer you do it this way so I’ll know if you’re feeling,” he stops to licks a stripe up your folds, making you shiver, “good, or,” this time, he stops to suck hard on your clit, startling you with the amount of pleasure jolting through your veins that your body begins to tremble. “Extremely good,” he finishes, moving to the side so he can place a kiss on your thigh, letting you feel his teasing smile on your skin.

Your breathing tatters as he continues with his ministrations, now adding one of his fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. Your head hangs low, and you’re not able to tear your eyes away from his face. Seeing him between your thighs, with his eyes closed as if he’s enjoying every second of it, is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“You seem to be much more relaxed now,” Haechan leans back to show you his godforsaken smirk, “Good girl. Are you starting to regret the fact we didn’t do this sooner?”

And you want to be upset about it—about how he’s still teasing you even during this moment—but the way his breath keeps fanning against your sensitive skin makes you weak. “Please just…” You’re about to sob because it’s too damn embarrassing to be put in this situation. “Stop teasing me, Hyuck…”

Haechan blinks at your expression, his gaze immediately softens. “I’m sorry,” he says, kissing you gently on the inner part of your thigh again. “You’re just so damn cute, I can’t help but tease. Forgive me?”

And you just answer with a small nod because that’s all you can offer before his lips are pressed against your entrance again, tongue slipping inside to know how you really taste. 

“Wait—” You begin to panic from how good and weird it feels. “L-let’s stop for a sec—It’s too much—” The shame, the sensation, the pleasure—they’re all hitting you hard at once and you’re too nervous to function properly.

Haechan sneaks a glance at your face, taking in the way it contorts into several emotions at once. “Baby,” he calls out softly, which sends shivers down to your core. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

You notice how he’s imitating your words from earlier and that gives you the chance to think about something else. “But… What about you..?” You ask, making eye contact with him and gulping when he raises his eyebrow in question. “I mean, I can’t please you like this.”

“Oh…” He leans his head down to the bed, giving you the space you want but not exactly what you need. “Then… Wanna do it at the same time?”

You nibble at your bottom lip, slowly nodding your head and his eyes gleam excitedly in response.

“Ah, you’re the best, seriously,” he exhales, dreamily looking at you. “All right then, turn around.”

***

It’s two hours before midnight when another idea pops up in your head. “Haechannie,” you call him out, as you click off your phone and turn to him. Hearing him humming in response, you continue. “Call Jaemin and the rest of your cute little boyband.”

By the tone of your voice, he knows he’s going to go through hell again. He groans out loud, head dangling around the edge of his bed. “Why is this day not over yet, I swear to God—”

“Just call them, I’ve got something in mind.”

“Don’t tell me you want me to make-out with them or something.”

“Why, are you interested?”

He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “I’d rather die.”

“Glad that’s not what I’m asking then.” You climb up to join him on the bed, sitting next to his body with your knee almost touching the side of his head. He shifts around, placing his head on your lap, and stares at you with tired eyes.

“Please don’t be too mean to me this time,” he begs and you snort, can’t believe that the mischievous Lee Donghyuck actually begs you to spare his life.

You card your fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch. It doesn’t last long though, his blissfulness, because on the next second, you say, “I want you to play that online game you always play with them but be terribly bad at it.”

“WHAT—“ He blurts out, sitting upright in such a rush that he almost knocks your heads together. “WHY—HOW COULD YOU—”

“Okay, breathe.”

“But this is too much!” He whines, his eyes widening in horror. “I have a status to uphold! You can’t do this to me!”

“Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll give you permission to explain the situation to them.” You squeeze his hand, smiling understandingly at him. “You can tell them that you’re doing this because you’re granting my birthday wish.”

That manages to calm him down a little. “So I can let them know before the game? Oh, thank God—”

“No, a month after the game.”

“WHY ARE YOU SO EVIL—”

“Just do it already!” You shout out with a teasing grin strapped to your face. “You owe me at least that much after I let you come in my mouth.”

He gapes, eyes widening in shock. “That was for this?! I feel so tricked!”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about that before but—” You shake your head, waving the rest of your sentence away. “Come on, Haechannie, please, please, please~” You rub your hands together, batting your eyelashes again.

He grumbles, pushing you away. “Stop doing that aegyo on me, I’m not doing it!”

I’ll grant you five wishes for your birthday!” You can’t believe you’re saying this and you know you’re going to regret it later in the future but there’s still time and you hope he’s gonna forget about it when the time arrives. Hopefully.

Haechanlooks extremely tempted at that. “Any kind of wishes?”

You wince but nod eventually. “As long as it’s nothing sexual.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.” His smirk is back and he’s doing it so cockily that it sends shivers down your spine. Well, you can work over that problem later. “Fine, let’s go. Give me the phone.”

Haechan calls Jaemin an asswipe the first second he gets connected but by the sound of his voice coming from the other line, he’s not even bothered in the slightest. “Get off Jeno’s dick for once and log back into your account. Bring Jisung with you. I’ll be online in ten minutes and if I don’t see you there, I’ll text your mom the real reason why you didn’t show up on Christmas Day.” And he shuts off his phone with a click, throwing it randomly on his bed.

“Do boys normally make phone calls like that?” you ask, judging him.

He only shrugs, “Cooler ones do.”

“What happened during Christmas Day?”

“Jaemin got his ass drunk, went out with Jeno, and ended up having a threesome with a stripper.” He yawns, throwing himself back on the bed again. “I’m just glad they didn’t take Jisung with them. He’s been through a lot, that poor kid.” And when he sees you raising an eyebrow in question, he just waves you off. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

There’s a lot of shouting in the background when the game started, most of it coming from the other line of Haechan’s headphones that’s strapped to his ears. You lean close to him so you can hear Jeno shouting at him, “Yah! What the fuck, Lee Donghyuck?! I thought you said you were going left!”

“I am going left.”

“THAT’S NOT LEFT, YOU IDIOT!”

And you feel sorry for your boyfriend for degrading himself on purpose like this. “As you can see,” he says, wincing as his ears begin to ring from all the shouting. He mutes his headphone as he focuses back on you with his fingers angrily tapping on his keyboards. “This causes me physical pain. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am happy.” You peck him on his cheek. “You’re the best. I love you.”

Haechan snorts, looking away and tapping his headphone again to unmute his microphone. “Hey assholes, I just died again. Sorry about that.” More screaming and angry rantings can be heard from the other line and you savor the moment as long as you can. It’s not every day you can see your cocky boyfriend being bullied by his underlings.

It’s too fun watching him play with his face contorting like he’s in deep agony that you begin to lose track of time. You just realize how late it is when Haechan suddenly quits the game, puts his PC back to the sleeping mode, and turns his chair around to face you. You suddenly feel nervous as you sit on the edge of his bed, with him staring at you with a sinful smile creeping up his face, crossing his legs.

“Ten, nine, eight,” he says, tapping his fingers and you flinch in realization. “You better start running, Noona.” He walks over, chucking off his shirt on his way to you whilst continuing his countdown. His silver necklace glints under the fluorescent light of his room and he bends down, trapping you between his arms. “Because I’ll be in charge in three… two…”

You gulp, your heart thrumming loudly against your ribcages as you feel his lips hovering dangerously above yours.

“One.”

***