#hearing that I give off hopeful vibes is so heartwarming

[rosicheeks]

I will not be anonymous about this!

The vibe you give off is hopeful.

Right now, life is hard, but you don't give up.

You see all the bad and acknowledge it, but you don't give up.

You have been hurt in the past, but you don't give up.

Your heart is pure. Your soul is indomitable. Your will is invincible.

🥺

[lividstar]

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Seven: Resolve

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 12.1k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ Seonghwa invites you to the serene local park where he delivers the exciting news that you’ve secured the modeling job, marking a significant step forward in your new life in Paris. However, as you bask in the joy of this achievement, a nagging concern about Hongjoong’s sketchbook lingers in your mind. By the time you get your first modeling gig, you form a plan to return it to him on the very same day, but the uncertainty of how he will react keeps you on edge. Could things possibly get any worse than they already are?

a/n: so sorry for the long wait (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) i’ve been going through a major writer’s block lately (and i’m also really busy with my studies) but luckily i managed to finish this chapter before completely losing motivation again 😅 i’d love to have some feedback! <3

tags: @beabatiny

You were busy preparing breakfast for yourself—this time choosing to make an actual meal. You had finally caved in and decided to take a little portion from your savings instead of just settling for a pack of ramen. You decided you didn’t want to jeopardize your health with your terrible dietary choices. The aroma of sizzling eggs and freshly toasted bread filled the small kitchen, creating a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

In the background, the record player your mother had insisted you take with you to Paris was spinning an old vinyl you had secretly taken from your father back in Arcadia Bay. The familiar, nostalgic notes of “La Vie En Rose” filled the room, and you couldn’t help but hum softly to the melody, feeling a bittersweet connection to home. While your hometown wasn’t exactly filled with memories as lighthearted as a rainbow after a thunderstorm, there was a little portion of them that you deemed heartwarming enough to remember—such as this.

Just as you were about to turn off the stove, your phone rang, cutting through the serene atmosphere. You frowned slightly, wondering who could be calling you this early. Wiping your hands on a towel, you picked up the phone and saw your mother’s name flashing on the screen. A sense of unease crept up your spine as you answered. “Mom? Is everything okay?” you asked, feeling a somewhat strange vibe in the air.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she greeted you, but there was a noticeable heaviness in her tone that immediately set off alarm bells in your mind. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I really need to talk to you.”

You quickly turned off the stove and paused the record player, giving her your full attention. Whenever those exact words came out of her mouth, it never meant anything positive, which was precisely why you were now standing near the edge. “What’s going on, Mom? You sound upset.”

There was a brief pause before she spoke again, her voice trembling slightly. “Your father and I... we're having a really hard time sustaining our financial needs. The café... it’s just not doing well. We’re getting fewer and fewer customers every day, and we’re really worried.”

Your heart sank. You knew how much the café meant to them, how hard they had worked to build it from the ground up. Years ago, when they decided you were grown enough to be able to take care of yourself, they flew to a different city, hoping to find a glimmer of hope amidst all the struggles you and your family have and still are going through. That glimmer of hope in question was deciding to open up their own small business.

“Mom… I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there something I can do to help? Anything, really,” you asked, desperation evident in your voice.

She sighed heavily. “I don’t know, dear. We’re trying everything we can, but we’re really scared it might take even longer to repay our debts.”

The mention of their debts made you feel a pang of guilt, especially knowing the major turning point in your life from years ago was the cause of it all. You knew they had taken on a lot to support you and your dreams, and now it felt like you were only adding to their burden. “This is all my fault… I’m so sorry. If I get the modeling job, I promise I’ll work so hard and earn so much that you and Dad will never have to worry again. You’ve already done so much for me. Let me repay you.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not a burden, and none of this is your fault,” she reassured you, her voice softening. “We’re proud of you, and we want you to succeed. Don’t think like that.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you choked out, “I just hate that you’re struggling because of me. Please, try not to stress too much. I’m going to make it. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I know you will, darling,” she said, trying to sound optimistic. “But remember, we’re always here for you, no matter what. We love you.”

“I love you too, Mom. Please take care of yourselves. I’ll call you soon,” you promised, your voice as quiet as the whisper of a passing breeze.

After saying goodbye, you ended the call and stood there, your phone still clutched tightly in your hand. The weight of her words embraced you heavily, making it hard to breathe. Slowly, you sank to the floor, your knees giving out as the tears you had been holding back finally fell.

You sat there, crying quietly, the phone pressed against your chest as you whispered to yourself, “This is all my fault.” The reality of your parents’ struggles and the pressure to succeed was a heavy weight to bear, leaving you feeling utterly helpless.

You had always felt like a burden, despite your parents’ constant reassurances that you weren’t. No matter how often they told you they were proud of you, that you were their greatest joy, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that you were the source of their struggles.

The thought that haunted you the most was the memory of that one terrible day when everything seemed to spiral out of control. If only things hadn’t gone so horribly wrong. If only the world had been a little kinder to your parents, maybe they wouldn’t be in this situation. Sometimes, in your darkest moments, you wondered if things would have been easier for them if you had never been born. These thoughts had followed you around for years, like a shadow you could never fully escape.

You thought you had left those feelings behind when you moved to Paris. For a month, you managed to keep those dark thoughts at bay, throwing yourself into your new life with a determination to succeed. But now, with the reminder of your parents’ struggles, the harsh reality came crawling back to bite you, and it stung.

You were as fragile as a piece of glass, easily shattered by the weight of your guilt and the pressure to make things right. The façade of strength you had built up over the years crumbled away, revealing the vulnerable, scared person beneath. Maybe you were never as strong as you had made yourself out to be after all.

While you sat there on the cold floor, clutching your phone and sobbing, you felt utterly alone and helpless. The weight of your parents’ sacrifices and the fear of letting them down was almost too much to bear. You wanted so desperately to make things better for them, to prove that their efforts and love weren’t in vain. But in this moment, all you could feel was the crushing weight of your own inadequacy. The dreams and aspirations that had once filled you with hope now seemed like distant, unattainable goals.

A message notification from your phone suddenly emerged, breaking the loud silence of your broken sobs. It was from Seonghwa.

Are you free later in the afternoon?

4PM, specifically.

Quickly wiping your tears, you typed out a reply, telling him that you were indeed free. His response was swift.

Alright, meet me at the park by then. I have something important to tell you.

Your heart dropped even more, worrying that maybe it was some sort of terrible news. But you just told him you’d make sure to be there on time.

Standing up, you wiped the remaining tears using the sleeve of your sweater. You put the record back on to distract yourself from your thoughts, humming to the melody once more as a way of pretending that things were as normal as they could be, as if the phone call with your mother hadn’t occurred at all. The familiar tune of “La Vie En Rose” filled the room, providing a temporary distraction to your troubled mind as you went back to preparing your breakfast.

Hours later, you found yourself walking around the park, searching for Seonghwa. Just as you took your phone out to ask where he was, you received a cryptic text message from him.

I see you.

This made you raise an eyebrow in amusement and maybe a little fear. You remembered how a few of your work colleagues from Arcadia Bay used to do this to you all the time when they invited you to hang out. Maybe not all memories from your hometown were horrible, after all.

After looking around once more, you spotted him sitting on a bench on the other side of the park, holding two cups of coffee in one hand while the other waved to you, a smile on his face. You hurriedly made your way over and greeted him, taking the offered cup of coffee and thanking him. “Thank you for this, Seonghwa,” you said, sitting down beside him. The warmth of the coffee seeped through the cup, comforting you slightly.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, his smile lingering but a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

Curiosity gnawed at you, and you finally asked, “So, why did you ask me to come here so suddenly?” There was a slight shift in his demeanor as he turned a little more serious. This always seemed to happen whenever he needed to talk about work matters. Noticing this, you straightened up in your seat, bracing yourself for what was about to come.

Seonghwa took a deep breath, setting his coffee down on the bench. “I wanted to talk to you about the agency, the callback, and the process of choosing which aspiring models deserve the spot they’re aiming for. It’s a rigorous process, as you know. The panel looks at various factors: potential, adaptability, and how well a person can embody the vision we have for our projects.”

You nodded, your hands clutching your coffee cup tighter. “Yes, I understand,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, as if you weren’t nearly losing your mind.

He continued, “The decision isn’t just about how you look in the photographs or how you perform in front of the camera. It’s about your story, your passion, and your determination. It’s about how well you can represent the brand and connect with the audience.”

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears. “So… did I… did I make it?” you asked, almost whispering.

Seonghwa paused for a moment, letting the tension build. Then, a smile broke out on his face. “Yes,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and pride. “You got in. You got the job.”

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Relief, disbelief, and overwhelming joy mingled together, making you feel lightheaded. “I… What? I can’t believe it,” you stammered, tears welling up in your eyes again, but this time, joy was the cause behind it.

Seonghwa reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “Believe it,” he said softly. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and it’s finally paying off. We all saw something special in you.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “Thank you, Seonghwa. Thank you for believing in me… for seeing something in me. I won’t let you down.”

He nodded, his eyes full of sincerity. “I know you won’t. This is just the beginning for you. There’s so much more ahead, and I can’t wait to see what you’ll achieve.”

The realization began to sink in, and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh, the sound of disbelief and happiness mixing together. “This feels like a dream,” you confessed, wiping away the tears that kept streaming down your face. “Just hours ago, I was breaking down, thinking about how I might never get this opportunity. And now… now, I have it.”

Seonghwa smiled warmly, his expression softening. “I understand. It's a lot to take in. But you deserve this. You’ve shown so much potential and passion. We all believe in you, and I’m so happy to have you on board.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a wave of relief engulf you in a warm embrace, much like the setting sun. “I don’t even know how to express how grateful I am,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “This means everything to me. I promise I’ll give it my all, every single day.”

Seonghwa’s smile widened, his eyes twinkling with pride. “I have no doubt about that. You’re going to do amazing things. This is just the start of a wonderful journey.”

You felt a rush of gratitude, your heart swelling with warmth. “I can’t thank you enough, Seonghwa. For everything. For believing in me, for giving me this chance. It feels like a dream come true.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “Well, consider it a reality now. You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I think this is just the beginning of something truly amazing for you. You’ve got the talent, the drive, and the heart. That’s a powerful combination.”

You smiled, feeling a newfound sense of confidence. “Thank you, Seonghwa. Your words mean a lot to me. I'm going to work hard and make you proud.”

“I have no doubt about that,” he replied warmly. “And don't forget to enjoy the journey. It's going to be hectic, but it’s an incredible ride all the same.”

With a final, heartfelt thank you, you both stood up from the bench. Seonghwa gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “How about we go on a walk? You know, a small way to celebrate this moment,” he said with a grin. “You deserve it.”

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. “I think I could use a little celebration,” you admitted.

As you both continued to walk around the park, sipping on your half-empty coffee cups, Seonghwa began to delve into the upcoming autumn fashion week. “So, autumn fashion week is a massive event for us,” he started, excitement evident in his voice. “It’s where we’ll be showcasing all the new collections for the season. Hongjoong has been working tirelessly on this for months.”

You listened intently, eager to hear every detail. Seonghwa continued, “The theme this year is ‘Enchantment of Dreams.’ Hongjoong wanted to capture the delicate beauty of autumn, but with a twist. Think of flowing fabrics, soft, muted colors, and a mix of natural elements with a bit of fantasy. It’s all about creating a dreamy, almost otherworldly atmosphere.”

He paused to let the theme sink in before moving on. “The types of designs we’re aiming for include long, flowing gowns made from light, airy fabrics like chiffon and silk. There are also more structured pieces that incorporate natural textures like leaves and flowers. Some of the designs even have intricate beadwork and embroidery that give them a mystical feel. Like they’re made for forest fairies, you know.”

You could picture the collection in your mind, a blend of nature and fantasy coming to life on the runway. “That sounds so beautiful,” you whispered, nearly to yourself, genuinely impressed.

Seonghwa smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “It really is. Hongjoong has such a clear vision for what he wants to present. He’s been sketching and refining these designs for months. Each piece is a work of art.”

Curiosity got the better of you, and you asked, “How’s the process going so far?”

Seonghwa let out a sigh. “Well, aside from successfully recruiting models that are suitable for the event’s theme, we’re stuck in a bit of a predicament.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “What kind of predicament, exactly?”

Seonghwa’s expression turned more serious. “All of Hongjoong’s designs for fashion week were in his sketchbook, but the thing is, it’s missing. He still hasn’t found it.”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Not only did the sketchbook belong to Hongjoong, but now you were also finding out that all his designs for autumn fashion week were drafted in there? Your steps faltered, and you nearly stopped in your tracks, eyes wide with shock.

I have to return it to him. No, I definitely need to return it to him. I can’t let myself be further consumed by my fears when the consequences waiting ahead are far worse than losing my job. Keeping something of such immense value is not an option. There will be a huge price to pay, but it’s nothing compared to the damage that could be done if Hongjoong doesn’t get his sketchbook back in time for fashion week.

Seonghwa noticed your sudden silence and the far-off look in your eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

You snapped back to reality, giving him a reassuring nod. “Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I just got lost in my thoughts for a moment.”

Seonghwa seemed to accept your explanation and didn’t pry any further. “It’s understandable. There’s a lot to process,” he said kindly.

Trying to steer the conversation back, you asked, “How is Hongjoong holding up with the sketchbook missing? He must be really stressed.”

Seonghwa sighed again. “He’s definitely not in the best place right now. Losing that sketchbook was a huge blow. He’s been frantically trying to recreate the designs from memory, but it’s not the same. That sketchbook held his original inspirations and ideas.”

You could only imagine the pressure Hongjoong must be under. “That sounds incredibly tough. I hope he finds it soon.” I hope I can return it to him soon.

Seonghwa nodded. “We all do. Everyone’s been looking for it, hoping it will turn up before it's too late.”

As the conversation continued, you felt a growing sense of urgency. You knew what you had to do. Returning the sketchbook wasn’t just about doing the right thing—it was about helping someone in a desperate situation. The weight of that responsibility was heavy, but it also gave you a sense of clarity and purpose. You walked with Seonghwa a bit longer, discussing lighter topics and enjoying each other’s company. But in the back of your mind, the decision was made. You had to find a way to return the sketchbook to Hongjoong before it’s too late.

—

The Fashion Week was still quite a long road away, but Seonghwa insisted you should get your first exposure to the fashion world in advance. This way, you’d gain valuable experience and not feel too pressured by the time fashion week arrived. Today, you were set to do a photoshoot featuring Hongjoong’s recent collection released earlier this year. The collection’s theme was ‘The Beauty of Time,’ a blend of vintage charm and modern sophistication. It featured outfits with intricate lace details, flowing silk skirts, and structured blazers in rich jewel tones. The setting was an old Parisian mansion, with grand staircases and opulent chandeliers, perfectly matching the collection’s vibe.

You also had a mission to return the sketchbook to Hongjoong today—before your fear could fully consume you and let the day pass by as a heavy failure. You just had to find a way.

Now, you were at the photoshoot venue, being prepped by one of the stylists. She seemed a few years older than you, with a kind demeanor that put you at ease. As she worked on your hair and makeup, you two indulged in small talk. “Have you ever done something like this before?” she asked, her eyes reflecting genuine curiosity.

You softly shook your head. “No, this is an entirely foreign world to me.”

She seemed genuinely shocked. “Really? That’s hard to believe because you have the perfect features for a model. We’re lucky Seonghwa found you before any other agency did. Are you from around here?”

You smiled at her compliment, feeling a bit more at ease. “Thank you. And, no, I’m actually from a small town, not from Paris.”

“Ah, that explains it,” she said with a knowing nod. “Small towns tend to have restricted opportunities. Perhaps that’s why your well-deserved exposure is long overdue.” You nodded in agreement, appreciating her understanding. It was true, in a way. If Arcadia Bay wasn’t as small as it was, you probably never would’ve considered flying to Paris. Unfortunately, reality has a twisted knack for imposing challenges even when you’re not up for it.

After she finished styling you, she complimented your look and wished you luck. Just as she left the room, Seonghwa walked in, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “Wow, you look elegant.”

You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. You weren’t used to receiving compliments, much more being called elegant. “Thank you. The stylist was really nice.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? She isn’t usually talkative around models. She must’ve taken a liking to you.”

You chuckled softly, feeling a bit more confident. “Well, I’m glad. She made me feel comfortable.”

Seonghwa smiled, clearly pleased. “Good to hear. Now, let’s get you to the photoshoot.” You nodded, taking a deep breath as you followed him. You wore a stunning outfit from Hongjoong’s collection: a flowing, floor-length silk dress in a rich sapphire blue, with eye-catching lace details along the neckline and sleeves. The dress had a vintage yet modern feel, and it felt perfect for the theme.

The photoshoot began in earnest, with Wooyoung directing each shot. “Alright, let’s start with some classic poses by the grand staircase. Think regal, timeless elegance.”

You positioned yourself as instructed, feeling the weight of the dress and the grandeur of the setting. Each click of the camera seemed to bring a new wave of confidence.

“Beautiful,” Wooyoung praised, adjusting the lighting. “Now, let’s move to the balcony. I want you to look out as if you’re lost in thought, dreaming of something wonderful. Kinda like if you were Cinderella daydreaming about her Prince Charming.”

The example he set was… unexpected, to say the least, but much to your surprise, it actually did its wonders and helped you immerse yourself in the theme. You followed his guidance, leaning slightly against the ornate railing and gazing out over the mansion’s lush gardens. The soft afternoon light cast a golden glow over everything, enhancing the ethereal quality of the shoot.

Hours passed as you moved from one location to another within the mansion, each scene more breathtaking than the last. You posed by antique mirrors, draped yourself elegantly on velvet sofas, and even walked through a hallway lined with vintage portraits.

Finally, the photoshoot came to an end. Wooyoung clapped his hands together, beaming. “That’s a wrap! You did an amazing job.”

You smiled, feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. “Thank you. It was a wonderful experience.”

Seonghwa approached you, looking pleased. “You were fantastic. I’m really proud of you.” Just as you were about to respond, you saw Hongjoong entering the venue. Panic surged through you, and you quickly turned away, leaving behind a confused Seonghwa and heading straight for Wooyoung, who was busy checking his shots.

“Sorry to bother you, but is there a restroom around here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

He looked up in surprise, eventually nodding as he pointed towards a hallway. “Yep. Just down there, to the left.”

You quickly made your way towards the restroom, heart pounding. Once inside, you leaned your back against the wall, a hand on your chest as you sighed in relief. You didn’t know why you were so scared of crossing paths with Hongjoong. Maybe it was the guilt of not immediately returning his sketchbook to him the moment he introduced himself to you. Perhaps it was simply because you’ve always been a coward, just like when you were young.

Taking a moment to steady yourself, you walked towards the mirror to fix your appearance and wash your hands. Just as your hand held the doorknob to leave, you overheard two familiar voices coming from a corner nearby—Hongjoong and Seonghwa. You paused, listening intently.

Hongjoong let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples. “While I’m glad things seem to be turning out well for her, I still can’t shake off the thought of permanently losing my sketchbook. We already have the perfect model for the collection, but this predicament outweighs the greener side of the grass.”

Seonghwa tried to reassure him. “Maybe it’ll come by when you least expect it.” But even he sounded doubtful. Comforting Hongjoong through blatant lies was just as bad as adding fuel to the fire. Their voices grew more inaudible with each second until you could no longer hear them. Maybe they went back to the venue’s main hall.

You bit the inside of your cheek, making a mental note to ask Seonghwa for Hongjoong’s number before it was time to head back home. You couldn’t keep something with such a huge value in your hands much longer.

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you emerged from the restroom, walking back to the main hall while nervously fiddling with your fingers. You spotted Seonghwa sitting by the staircase next to Wooyoung, and as soon as he saw you, his face lit up.

He walked towards you with a welcoming smile. “Why’d you run off so suddenly earlier?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

You waved him off, hoping he wouldn’t pry further. “I just needed to go to the restroom,” you said, keeping your tone as casual as possible. Fortunately, he didn’t push for more details.

“Well, Hongjoong stopped by for a bit and left just a few seconds before you got back,” Seonghwa informed you, his eyes scanning your face for a reaction.

You tried to act as if you weren’t already aware—as if Hongjoong wasn’t literally the reason you ran towards the restroom. You forced a nod, your expression neutral. “Oh? Did he say why he was here?”

Seonghwa shrugged. “He was actually looking for you, but something urgent came up, so he had to leave early.”

Thank God for that, you thought, your relief barely concealed. You nodded again, a desperate attempt to act casual, subtly biting the inside of your cheek. “Did he mention why he was looking for me?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “He didn’t get a chance to tell me. But don’t worry, he’ll most likely elaborate further once he’s done with whatever urgent business he’s handling.”

You let out a small sigh of relief, though your mind was still racing. At least you had a chance to return the sketchbook before the day was over. But what if that’s exactly why he was looking for you? No, no, that couldn’t be the case. You had to quit stressing yourself out.

Suddenly, you remembered your mental note to ask for Hongjoong’s number. You glanced at Seonghwa, trying to keep your voice steady. “Seonghwa, could I get Hongjoong’s number? I might need to discuss something with him... you know, business matters.”

Seonghwa smiled, not seeming to be suspicious. “Oh, sure thing. Give me a moment.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts before finding Hongjoong’s number and sharing it with you.

“Thank you,” you said, grateful that he didn’t ask further questions. Being a model on the fresh start of her journey needing to message the creative director of the brand she’s under was perfectly plausible.

With Hongjoong’s number saved in your phone, you felt a mixture of anxiety and determination. You couldn’t let this opportunity slip away, but you also couldn’t let fear control your actions. Now, you just need to find the right moment to return the sketchbook and hopefully clear the air.

Hours had passed, and the photoshoot concluded perfectly. Before you left the venue, Wooyoung approached you with a smile. “I might take about a short while to edit the shots I’ve taken. I’ll make sure you’re the first to see them, just in case there are a few photos you wouldn’t like to be published,” he said, catching you by surprise.

You nodded, genuinely touched. “Thank you, Wooyoung. I appreciate that.”

He grinned, his eyes turning into small crescents. “No problem. It’s important that you’re comfortable with everything.”

As you left, you reflected on how considerate everyone had been. It shattered your preconceived notions about the fashion industry. Prejudices can indeed be harmful, you mused.

Now, you found yourself at the park once more, nervously shaking your legs as the tips of your fingers hovered over the letters on your phone’s keyboard. You deeply contemplated what message to send Hongjoong. Every possible phrase ran through your mind, each one feeling inadequate or too forward. How were you going to construct a message asking him to come to the park because you had something important to talk about?

After what felt like an eternity, you finally settled on a message you deemed sufficient:

Hi, Hongjoong. Sorry for the late notice, but I was hoping we could meet at the park for a moment. There’s something important I need to discuss with you. Let me know if you’re available. Thank you.

For a moment, you could only stare at the send button, which seemed to glare back at you with an almost mocking intensity. Letting out a sigh, you closed your eyes shut the exact moment you hit the button, trying so hard to keep yourself calm. Okay, maybe you were being quite dramatic right now, but you’ve always had a thing for being an overthinker—so what’s the surprise now?

It took a couple of minutes until your phone buzzed with Hongjoong’s response.

I’ll be on my way in a bit.

You sent a quick message back, ensuring he knew you’d be patiently waiting. Then, deciding to avoid making yourself more nervous, you turned off your phone. Your eyes drifted to the sketchbook inside your bag, a contemplative gaze settling on your face.

Your mind began to spiral into a torrent of overthinking. What if this doesn’t go the way you’re hoping it will? What if this makes things awkward between you two? The sketchbook held his designs for Autumn Fashion Week. Losing it must have caused him immense stress. Would he even be able to trust you again after this? What if the consequences were more severe than you anticipated? Each scenario played out in vivid detail, heightening your anxiety with every passing second. Most of all, you worried about Hongjoong’s reaction. Would he be disappointed? Understanding? Furious?

As you sat there, these thoughts swirling uncontrollably, you began to realize just how significant this moment was. The weight of the sketchbook in your bag felt heavier with each passing minute, a tangible reminder of the impact your actions could have.

Just as your thoughts were about to spiral deeper into a vortex of anxiety, a familiar voice softly called your name from behind. You turned around sharply, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. There stood Hongjoong, his expression warm and slightly curious.

You immediately stood up from the bench, awkwardly fumbling with your hands, struggling to find the right way to greet him. At that moment, you realized how foolish your plan was. Here was the creative director of the brand you were now modeling for, and you had asked him to meet you at a local park? The idea seemed incredibly disrespectful in hindsight, and you cringed inwardly at your own lack of foresight.

Hongjoong seemed to notice the shift in your demeanor. His eyes softened, and as if he could read your mind, he laughed gently, attempting to put you at ease. “It’s all good,” he reassured you, his tone kind and understanding.

“I’m so sorry for asking you to come here at such an unexpected hour,” you apologized, your voice tinged with genuine regret and bashfulness. Truthfully, all you could wish for right now was for a lightning to magically strike exactly where you were currently standing. It would hurt less than having to endure the embarrassment you were currently facing.

“It’s alright, really,” he said, waving off your concern with a nonchalant gesture. “How about we take a seat, and you can tell me what you called me here for?”

You nodded, your heart still pounding in your chest. You sat back down on the bench, scooting to the side to give him ample space. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves, your fingers trembling slightly as you clasped them together.

“So,” Hongjoong began, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s on your mind?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your words came out in a jumbled mess. “Well, you see, it’s just... I mean, I wanted to... there’s something important I...”

Hongjoong listened intently, his expression patient but slightly puzzled. He waited for you to continue, giving you the space you needed to gather your thoughts. He could tell you were avoiding the main topic, and his curiosity was piqued. After a moment of watching you struggle, he gently cut in, his voice soft and encouraging. “It’s okay. Just cut to the chase.”

You pursed your lips, feeling the anxiety tighten like a vice around your chest. With a shaky hand, you reached into your bag and pulled out the sketchbook, shoving it into his arms. Immediately, you stood up, your first instinct to run away. But Hongjoong quickly stood up too, catching your wrist in a gentle but firm grip and turning you back towards him.

The look in his eyes was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. Under his steady gaze, you felt a wave of shame and guilt wash over you. You began to ramble, the words spilling out uncontrollably.

“Look, I’m so, so sorry—I really didn’t want to keep it for so long, I just couldn’t find a way to return it to you because I was so scared my career would be jeopardized before it even started. I was afraid you’d be upset, and that’s completely valid because if I were you, I would be chasing myself around with a knife right now, and...”

Hongjoong let go of your wrist and laughed, a sound so unexpected that it made you fall silent. The tears that had been threatening to fall halted themselves, leaving you feeling both confused and relieved.

You looked at him with a puzzled expression. “... Why are you laughing?”

He smiled, still chuckling softly. “Upset? Not once was I ever upset the day I found out you had my sketchbook because I knew it was in good hands.”

This statement only deepened your confusion. “Huh? Sorry, what do you mean by that?”

He shifted lightly. “Do you remember the first casting audition you attended?” he asked, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. You nodded wordlessly, your mind racing to recall the details. “I knew my sketchbook was in your hands the moment I saw what you were wearing,” he explained, his tone matter-of-fact.

Then it hit you. The dress you had worn that day was inspired by one of his designs, a subtle homage to his work. “Is… is that why you approached me in the waiting room that day?” you asked, realization dawning on you.

“Yes, but I also wanted to see how you would react to me introducing myself,” he admitted, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I had a hunch you had no idea I was the owner of the sketchbook.”

You felt dumbfounded, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. “You knew all along? Why didn’t you confront me about it?”

He shrugged comfortably, his demeanor relaxed. “I knew I could trust you to return it eventually.” He looked down at the sketchbook now back in his hands, his expression one of satisfaction. “And I guess I was right, after all.”

“So… what’s going to happen to me now?” you asked, your voice small and uncertain, the weight of your fears hanging heavy right above your head, the rope holding it up a second close to snapping.

“What do you mean?” he replied, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

“Aren’t I going to get in trouble? It’s what I deserve, you know. Seonghwa told me about how much stress you’ve been having to endure because of your missing sketchbook.”

He waved you off, shaking his head with a reassuring smile. “You only would’ve gotten in trouble if you had chosen to leak my designs or didn’t come forward like you did now.”

There was a short pause as he reached into his shoulder bag. When you saw a tiny peek of what it was, your eyes immediately widened.

“So, now that that’s out of the way, I’m guessing this is yours, then?” he said, raising the object high enough for you to see.

Your journal.

You could only look at it in complete, utter shock, your eyes wide with surprise. He had your journal all along, too? But how come he had it with him now, at this very specific moment? Did he already know beforehand that you were the owner of it, too?

“How did you... how’d you know that belongs to me?” you asked, still dumbfoundedly staring at it as it remained in his hands.

He shrugged with a knowing smile. “Call it a hunch.”

You took it from his grasp, flipping through the pages just to make sure it was actually your journal. It was. “No, seriously, how did you know...?”

He paused, then admitted, “Well, may have read a single page. What I read was an entry about wanting to move to a new country to restart your life and turn over a new leaf. I remembered that the moment you told your story about your past to the casting directors during the auditions, and that’s when I put two and two together. I was just waiting for the right time to return it to you.”

“The right time as in the time I’d finally decide to return your sketchbook?”

“Precisely,” he responded, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“So you knew my intention behind asking you to meet up tonight?” you asked, a mix of amazement and embarrassment flooding through you.

“I did. Call it a hunch—for real this time.”

You looked up at him, trying to process everything. “So... where do we go from here?”

He tilted his head slightly, a curious expression on his face. “What do you mean by that?”

You fiddled with the hem of the sweater you were wearing, not really sure how this night was meant to be concluded—another thing you forgot to consider, thanks to your constant overthinking. “You have your sketchbook, and I have my journal... I suppose we should call this a day, then?”

He chuckled softly. “You’re still tense, aren’t you?”

You sighed, feeling the tension in your shoulders that you had been trying to ignore. “I can’t help it.”

Hongjoong tried to lighten the mood with a playful tone. “You better be, because who knows if I might switch up on you last minute or not.”

But his attempt at humor backfired. You immediately began to worry, your words coming out in a frantic scurry. “Please don’t! I mean, I really didn’t mean to keep it for so long. I was just scared, and...”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that,” he quickly interjected, his smile turning sheepish. “That was probably not a good joke... Sorry about that.” Hongjoong then spoke up again, his tone more sincere. “Let’s see… Why don’t we stop by the cafe where this all started? Just to get your mind off your persisting worries?”

You hesitated, trying to turn his offer down. “Oh, I don’t want to take up more of your time than I already did. You’re probably busy...”

He shook his head, his expression earnest. “That’s not the case at all. I don’t mind. Really, I insist.” Seeing the genuine look in his eyes, you finally nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you caved in.

As you both started walking, you felt some of the tension begin to ease. The sketchbook and journal were back with their rightful owners, and despite the initial awkwardness, the evening was starting to take a more positive turn. The park was quiet, the air filled with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of city life, creating a calming backdrop for your walk to the cafe.

Hongjoong led the way, his steps confident yet relaxed. “You know,” he began, glancing at you, “I’ve always believed that the right things find their way back to you at the right time. Looks like today was one of those days.”

You nodded, reflecting on his words. “Yeah, I suppose it was.”

You and Hongjoong eventually approached the cafe, the warm, inviting light spilling out onto the street through the large windows. The bell above the door chimed softly as you entered, and a comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air. The interior was cozy, with a few patrons scattered around, each immersed in their own little worlds. You both walked up to the counter, where a cheerful barista greeted you with a welcoming smile.

Hongjoong glanced at you, gesturing for you to go first. “What would you like?”

You scanned the menu briefly before deciding. “I’ll have a caramel macchiato, please.”

The barista nodded and turned to Hongjoong. “And for you, sir?”

“I’ll take an Americano,” he replied with a friendly nod.

As the barista prepared your drinks, you and Hongjoong made small talk, the earlier tension steadily dissolving into a more relaxed and natural conversation. Once your drinks were ready, you carried them over to a small table by the window, where the soft evening light created a serene atmosphere.

Settling into your seats, Hongjoong took a sip of his coffee before turning his attention to you. “So, about that dress you wore at the audition. How did you make it? Because, as my memory serves me, it was a hundred percent identical to the design I made.”

You smiled, reminiscing about the creation process. “The landlord of the apartment I’m currently staying in helped me with making it. It was her way of thanking me for helping her with grocery shopping one day. She’s really talented with a sewing machine.”

Hongjoong’s eyes softened, and a warm smile spread across his face. “That’s really heartwarming. It’s wonderful how small acts of kindness can lead to such beautiful collaborations. It’s like the universe has a way of bringing the right people together at the right time.”

Touched by his words, you nodded. “The design itself was really beautiful and eye-catching. What was the inspiration behind it?”

Hongjoong’s expression shifted to a more somber tone as he gazed out the window, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. “They’re inspired by the dreams I have failed to reach.”

Intrigued by the depth of his statement, you leaned forward slightly. “Sorry, could you elaborate on that?”

He paused, as if carefully choosing his words, before responding with a poetic yet cryptic tone. “Sometimes, the dreams we chase slip through our fingers like grains of sand, leaving behind a haunting echo of what could have been. But in that echo, there’s still beauty, still inspiration.”

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight that spoke volumes. You could sense there was more to his story than he was letting on. “Is this dream of yours still up there, or has it already dissipated?”

Hongjoong sighed, a touch of uncertainty in his eyes. “To be honest, I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want it to be the latter.”

Sensing the mood deflating, you decided to steer the conversation towards lighter waters. “Tell me about Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Have you known them for a long time? The three of you seem really close.”

A smile tugged at Hongjoong’s lips, and he nodded appreciatively. “Yes, we’ve known each other since our youth. Seonghwa and I go way back. As for Wooyoung, we met him in college. He’s a year behind us, but it didn’t take long for us to become close friends.”

“How did the three of you meet?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with fond memories. “Seonghwa and I have known each other since we were kids. We grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools. Wooyoung, on the other hand, we met him during his first year of college when we were in our second. He was this energetic, passionate guy who always had a camera in his hand. We quickly became friends, and our bond just grew stronger over time.”

He continued, his voice warm with nostalgia. “Wooyoung had this knack for capturing moments, and he saw the world in a way that inspired us both. Seonghwa and I were drawn to his creativity, and he brought out the best in us. The three of us complemented each other perfectly, both in our personal lives and in our professional endeavors.”

Hongjoong turned the conversation towards you, his curiosity piqued. “What about you? Do you have any friends that you cherish as much as I do with Wooyoung and Seonghwa?”

You paused to think about it. The figures that appeared in your mind were the daughter of the diner owner you used to work for and another person whose friendship you were unsure about.

Clearing your throat, you snapped out of your thoughts and looked up, meeting Hongjoong’s gaze with your own. “Yes, I do. She’s from Arcadia Bay, my hometown. Her name is Chloe—she’s someone I met through her mother, who owned the diner I used to work at before I got fired for always gobbling up both the leftovers and incorrect orders.”

Hongjoong’s laugh broke the story, and he immediately apologized, but you smiled, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I have to admit, it was a ridiculous way to get fired.” You continued, recounting your friendship with Chloe.

“She’s really cool. A bit of a bad influence, but she was one of the few reasons why I still consider my life in Arcadia Bay worth remembering. She was like those typical angsty teens you’d see in movies—the whole starter pack, even. You know, dyed hair, tattoos, alternative clothing style, sneaking into concerts of rock bands. She had every right to be like that, though. During my shift hours, she’d always keep me company by entertaining me with life stories she definitely shouldn’t have been going through at her age back then. We were sixteen, but that’s usually the rebellious time period for teenagers, so I guess it checks out.”

Hongjoong listened intently to every word, his focus never wavering. You could tell he was genuinely interested in what you were sharing. His attention made you feel valued, as if your stories were as important to him as his own.

“Sounds like your typical high school friendship,” he mused with a smile. “Can’t say it wasn’t the same case for me and Seonghwa, honestly.”

“Hold on, you had a rebellious teen phase?” you asked, leaning forward, genuinely curious.

Hongjoong’s expression grew more animated as he recalled his rebellious past, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and nostalgia. “Oh, you have no idea. Seonghwa and I were quite the troublemakers back then. We were involved in some pretty intense stuff—definitely not your average teenage rebellion, but I’m not too proud of that fact.”

You leaned in, intrigued by the shift in his demeanor. “Like what?” You had to admit, finding out that the man who always seemed to be so poised used to be a reckless teenager was jarring.

He chuckled, a hint of daring in his voice. “Well, for starters, we were heavily into the underground party scene. I’m talking about secret raves in abandoned warehouses and hidden clubs where the music was so loud, you could barely hear yourself think. The kind of places where the lights were always dim, and you had to know someone to get in.”

You listened intently, picturing the vibrant, chaotic scenes he described. “That sounds wild.” It was the type of life you’ll never be able to picture yourself experiencing—the very first proof of this being always turning down Chloe’s invites to parties taking place in a shady venue. It seemed fun, that’s for sure, but you just weren’t really built for it.

“Oh, it was,” Hongjoong agreed, his smile widening. “We were also really into street racing. Seonghwa had this old, souped-up car that he’d been working on for months. We’d drive it through the city streets, racing against anyone who dared to challenge us. Sometimes, we’d even have to make a quick getaway when the police showed up.”

His words painted a vivid picture of adrenaline-fueled nights and high-stakes races. “The police? That must have been thrilling.”

“It was,” he said, his gaze distant as if replaying the scenes in his mind. “And then there were the run-ins with the law. We were caught a few times, of course. Nothing too serious, but we had our share of close calls. There was this one time we were cornered by the cops after a particularly wild race, and we had to evade them through the back alleys of the city. It was like something out of a movie.”

Your eyes widened, impressed by the intensity of his teenage years. “Didn’t that ever scare you?”

He shrugged, a nonchalant smile on his face. “Not really. At the time, it felt like living on the edge was the only way to really feel alive. It was exhilarating, but we always managed to stay one step ahead. Those experiences made us who we are today, and while I don’t miss the chaos, I look back on it with a certain fondness.”

“You seem so different now,” you observed, noting the contrast between his past and present demeanor.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong agreed, his smile softening. “I guess I’ve changed quite a bit. Those days taught me a lot, but I also realized that I needed to channel that energy into something more constructive. That’s how I ended up finding my path in fashion designing. It was like a transformation from chaos to creativity. I still have a taste for adventure, but I prefer it now in the form of pushing boundaries in design rather than… dodging the cops.”

You laughed, though it was soon followed by an understanding nod, taking in the depth of his transformation. “It sounds like those years shaped you a lot. What was Seonghwa like during all this?”

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up as he spoke about his friend. “Seonghwa was my partner in crime, quite literally. He was just as reckless and adventurous as I was. We were inseparable back then. He had a natural knack for getting us into the thick of things—whether it was by pushing our luck with illegal street races or sneaking into the most exclusive underground parties.”

You could sense the warmth in Hongjoong’s tone as he spoke of Seonghwa. “And did he ever get tired of all the chaos?”

“No,” Hongjoong laughed, shaking his head. “If anything, he thrived on it. We both did. But as we grew older, we started to see the value in channeling that rebellious spirit into something more sustainable. We realized that we could use our drive and creativity in more productive ways.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze reflecting a mixture of nostalgia and contentment. “It’s funny, really. What once was all about defying norms and breaking rules became a passion for creating something new and innovative. I think it’s one of the reasons why Seonghwa and I get along so well. We understand each other’s journey from foolish teens to responsible adults.”

“Do you ever miss those days?” you asked, curious if he ever longed for the simpler times.

Hongjoong’s expression softened. “Sometimes. Life was simpler back then. No major responsibilities, just living in the moment. But I also appreciate where I am now. Those experiences shaped who I am today, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

You nodded in agreement, understanding his sentiment. “It’s amazing how those memories stay with us and influence who we become.”

He smiled warmly at you. “Right. And it’s the people we meet along the way that make those memories special. Like Chloe for you.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, thinking about your old friend. “Chloe was definitely one of those people. She made my time in Arcadia Bay memorable, despite everything.”

Hongjoong’s eyes held a hint of admiration as he looked at you. “It sounds like you had a real connection with her. Those kinds of friendships are rare and valuable.”

“They are,” you agreed, feeling a sense of nostalgia. “I’m grateful for those times, even if they’re in the past now.”

You leaned back in your chair, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. “You know, it feels a little weird sharing these stories with you. Not that it makes me uncomfortable, it’s just… I quite literally work under you. I can’t help but feel worried that I’m crossing a boundary by talking about these things.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened as he leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours. “I understand why you might feel that way, but you’re not crossing any boundaries. Outside of work and the industry, I’m not a creative director. I’m just a normal human, just like you. So, it’s alright to talk to me about these things.”

You smiled, feeling a bit more reassured. “It might take a while for me to get used to talking to you comfortably without feeling guilty right after, though.” You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck.

He nodded, his smile understanding. “That’s completely understandable. Take your time.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and minutes later, you both decided to call it a night. Hongjoong stood up, lending his hand to help you out of your seat.

“Let me take you home,” he offered. While your initial thought was to turn him down, you knew deep inside you had a huge fear of walking alone late at night, so all you could do was accept his offer with a wordless nod of gratitude.

As you walked together towards your apartment, Hongjoong began to indulge you in small talk. “So, tell me more about your landlord.”

You smiled, thinking of Madame Dupont. “She’s always been very kind to me ever since I first moved in. She’s a lovely woman. She has a beautiful garden at the apartment, and back when I was still on my job hunt, I’d see her early in the morning, watering her plants and flowers. I think it’s a nice hobby to have.”

Hongjoong nodded, appreciating the sentiment. “Gardening does sound like a peaceful hobby. Have you ever thought about making your own garden?”

“I actually have, quite a few times already. But I can barely even take care of myself, so taking care of something else—a whole bunch of them at that—doesn’t really seem like a good idea on my behalf,” you joked, and both of you shared a laugh.

The laughter faded, and you shifted the conversation. “What about you? Do you have a dream hobby you wish to indulge in one day?”

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I’ve actually been wanting to learn how to play the guitar—an electric one specifically. But I’m just currently too busy with my work to sneak in a hobby.”

You decided to test the waters with a light-hearted joke. “That hobby is long overdue. You should’ve thought of it back when you were in your angsty teen phase.” Was that alright to say? Was it too far?

Much to your relief, Hongjoong laughed heartily. “You’re right. It would’ve fit perfectly with who I was back then.”

When you both finally reached your apartment building, you let out a small hum of surprise as a familiar figure darted towards you—a mischievous little feline known all too well to you.

“Pompidou?” you called out softly, crouching down as the cat stopped right in front of you, looking up with wide, curious eyes. You bent your knees, scooping it up into your arms with a gentle smile, feeling the comforting weight and warmth of the small creature.

Hongjoong watched this interaction with a fond smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Is that your cat?” he asked, stepping a little closer to get a better look.

You shook your head, still smiling as you stroked Pompidou’s soft fur. “No, he belongs to a fellow tenant. Pompidou just prefers to stay outdoors more. He’s quite the adventurous little guy.”

Intrigued, Hongjoong reached out to rub the cat’s head. “Be careful, he might—” You started to warn him about Pompidou’s unpredictable nature, but to your surprise, the cat began nuzzling its head against Hongjoong’s palm, purring contentedly.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, glancing up at Hongjoong. The proximity between your faces made your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked back down at Pompidou, feeling a bit flustered. Clearing your throat to regain composure, you said, “It likes you.”

Hongjoong continued to rub Pompidou’s head, his touch gentle and kind. “Does it usually not accept physical touch from people who aren’t its owner?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.

You nodded. “You’re right. Sometimes, Pompidou doesn’t even like being touched by its owner. Poor Monsieur Frank always has to chase him around. It’s quite a sight.”

This made Hongjoong chuckle, a warm sound that resonated in the quiet evening. “But it likes you?”

You shrugged, still a bit puzzled by the cat’s behavior. “I honestly have no idea why that’s the case. Maybe he senses something.”

Hongjoong’s eyes softened as he watched the cat nuzzle against you. “I remember reading an article about animals and their behavioral traits, and it said that when a cat is naturally drawn to you, it means you have a kind soul and they can sense it.”

The thought of Pompidou seeing your soul as something pure warmed your heart, making you embrace the cat a little tighter. You glanced at Hongjoong, touched by his words. “Maybe that’s why it likes you a lot,” he mused quietly, almost as if speaking to himself.

As you cradled Pompidou in your arms like a baby, Hongjoong took a step back, reaching into his bag to retrieve his phone. He quickly snapped a candid photo of you with the cat, the moment capturing the tender interaction between you and Pompidou. Once the photo was taken, he discreetly put his phone back in his bag.

Only then did you turn your attention back to him, smiling warmly. “Thank you for spending the evening with me and walking me home. It was really nice. And… I’m still so sorry about not choosing to return the sketchbook sooner.”

Hongjoong laughed softly, shaking his head. “No need to thank me. I enjoyed it too. And don’t worry about the sketchbook. It’s really not a problem.”

You waved goodbye, watching as he safely crossed the road before finally heading inside. Setting Pompidou down gently on the floor, you bid the cat farewell too before heading up to your apartment. Once inside, you heaved a soft sigh of relief, feeling the familiar comfort of your home envelop you after a long day. Stretching your arms, you plopped yourself on the floor, leaning back against the couch to relax.

A message notification from Hongjoong pinged on your phone, showing a photo attachment. Opening it with initial confusion, you smiled widely as you saw a candid photo of you holding Pompidou in your arms. The image captured the warmth of the moment perfectly. You quickly reacted to the photo with a heart, typing out a response.

How come I didn’t notice you taking this photo?

Hongjoong’s reply then came swiftly, nearly a couple seconds right after you sent yours.

When you have a cat in your arms, it’s quite impossible to focus on everything that’s happening around you.

You laughed at his message, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you. You thanked him for today once more before shutting your phone and calling it a day—a well-spent one, at that.

—

It still felt surreal to everyone except for Hongjoong that the sketchbook was finally back in his hands, removing the key obstacle that had been troubling him for a while. It had been three days since he shared the news with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, and despite the word spreading quickly, people still found it hard to believe that it had resurfaced just when everyone least expected it. Relief was the dominant sentiment among the team, but Seonghwa and Wooyoung couldn’t shake their curiosity about how, when, and where Hongjoong found the sketchbook. This mystery led them to their usual spot for private conversations about Hongjoong: Seonghwa’s office.

Seonghwa sat at his desk, diligently working through paperwork, while Wooyoung sprawled on the office couch, staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful frown.

“I just don’t get why he’d be so cryptic about it,” Wooyoung said, breaking the silence. His voice carried a mix of confusion and frustration.

Seonghwa shrugged without looking up from his papers. “He’s always had a knack for being secretive. But in this situation, it doesn’t seem quite sensible.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Wooyoung almost yelled, sitting up abruptly. Seonghwa glanced at him, surprised by his outburst. “Oops. But yeah, it’s not like he has to share every detail with us, but why wouldn’t he, you know?”

“I’m as lost as you are,” Seonghwa replied with a sigh, flipping to the next page of his paperwork. “Maybe he’ll come around eventually. For now, we should just be glad he’s got it back. You know how much it means to him.”

Wooyoung nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I do. It means as much to him as a worn-out bunny plush means to a child in a horror movie.”

Seonghwa chuckled at the comparison. “Nice observation.”

“You think he’s gonna magically appear anytime soon now?” Wooyoung asked suddenly, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. “He always seems to show up exactly when we’re talking about him.”

“You think he’ll show up if you say his name three times?” Seonghwa asked, playing along with Wooyoung’s musings.

“What, like Bloody Mary?”

“I was leaning towards Beetlejuice, but that fits too,” Seonghwa responded with a contemplative look.

Wooyoung grinned. “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetle—”

At that exact moment, the door to Seonghwa’s office swung open, and Hongjoong walked in. “Speak of the devil,” Seonghwa said, unable to hide his amusement as he looked at Wooyoung, who appeared mortified.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, clearly aware of their conversation. “Talking about me again?”

Wooyoung tried to play it cool. “Oh, I was actually summoning you right before you came in.”

Hongjoong gave him a deadpan expression. “I heard you chanting Beetlejuice’s name three times before entering.”

Feigning innocence, Wooyoung shrugged. “Pure coincidence.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes and brushed him off, turning his attention to Seonghwa. “Anyway, we need to discuss the plans for Fashion Week now that the sketchbook is back. Can we go over the details?”

Seonghwa nodded, clearing his desk to make space for the discussion. He pulled out a large binder filled with notes, sketches, and timelines. “Of course. We have a lot to cover.”

Hongjoong settled into the chair across from Seonghwa, pulling out his own notes. “I’ve been thinking about our initial concept for the collection. Now that we have the sketches back, I want to make sure we stay true to the original vision.”

Seonghwa flipped through the binder, stopping at a section filled with sketches and fabric swatches. “I agree. The original vision was strong, but we need to ensure every piece aligns perfectly with it. Let’s start with the color palette.”

Hongjoong nodded, leaning forward. “I’m thinking we stick with the bold, contrasting colors. It’s a statement collection, and the colors need to reflect that. The deep reds, midnight blues, and metallic accents should remain as the primary focus.”

Seonghwa made notes as Hongjoong spoke, occasionally nodding in agreement. “And the fabrics? Are we still going with the mix of leather and silk?”

“We are,” Hongjoong confirmed. “The juxtaposition of the tough and the delicate is what gives the collection its edge. The leather jackets with silk linings, the silk dresses with leather accents—it all needs to be cohesive.”

Wooyoung, now sitting up properly, watched the discussion unfold with interest. “What about the accessories? Are we doing anything special with those?”

Hongjoong glanced at Wooyoung, then back at Seonghwa. “I was thinking about incorporating some custom jewelry pieces. Something that complements the outfits but stands out on its own. Maybe some statement necklaces and rings?”

Seonghwa jotted down the ideas, flipping to another page in the binder. “And the runway show? Do we have a clear vision for the presentation?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong said firmly. "The runway needs to reflect the collection’s theme. I’m envisioning a stark, industrial setting with dramatic lighting. The music should be intense, something that amplifies the mood we’re going for.”

Seonghwa nodded, his pen moving quickly across the paper. “Sounds perfect. We’ll need to coordinate with the production team to make sure everything aligns.”

Wooyoung, still lounging on the couch, suddenly broke the silence with a thoughtful question. “Would you ever tell us about how you got your sketchbook back someday? Like, you know, maybe after Fashion Week?”

Seonghwa, leaning back in his chair and stretching, hummed in agreement. “While I’m not usually one to pry, I have to admit I’m a little curious about that as well.”

Hongjoong simply smiled, leaning back in his seat. “It’s up to the answer if it wants to come forward. If not, I’m afraid all you can do is accept things as they are.”

Wooyoung frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the cryptic response. “Why are you always so mysterious whenever there’s something you don’t want to tell us about? You sound like a riddler.”

Hongjoong laughed, the sound echoing warmly in the room. “Maybe I am,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He then shifted the conversation, clearly intent on steering it away from the sketchbook’s return. “Anyway, how did the recent photoshoot at that old Parisian venue go? I couldn’t stick around long because of work.”

Wooyoung’s expression brightened at the change of topic. “Oh, it went really well! She was fantastic. She had this natural ease in front of the camera that made everything flow smoothly. The venue was perfect too, with its rustic charm and vintage vibes. It really brought out the best in the shoot.”

Seonghwa nodded, visibly pleased with the feedback. “I’ve seen some of the raw shots. They’re set to be uploaded on our social media platforms tomorrow. Are the chosen photos finalized?”

Wooyoung leaned back, crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. “Yes, they are. I sent the file to you last night, actually. I left it up to her to choose which ones she wanted to be uploaded and which ones she didn’t. She has a good eye for these things.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “That’s a lot of trust to put in her.”

Wooyoung shrugged. “She chose the best shots—she knows her stuff, that’s for sure. Plus, she’s the one in the photos. It only makes sense for her to have a say in how she’s presented.”

Seonghwa agreed, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on his desk. “I think it’s a good call. It’s important that she feels comfortable with what’s being shared. It builds trust and respect, which is essential in this industry.”

Hongjoong nodded, appreciating their insights. “I’m glad to hear it went well. It’s good to know we’re on the right track.”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “I agree. And I have to say, she really brought her A-game. I think the location also played a huge role. There’s something about that old Parisian charm that adds a layer of authenticity and nostalgia to the photos. It’s like we’re capturing a piece of history.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his interest piqued. “I’d love to see the final selections. Can we go through them now?”

Seonghwa reached for his laptop, quickly pulling up the folder with the chosen photos. He positioned the screen so all three of them could see. “Here are the ones she decided on.”

They spent the next few minutes reviewing each photo, discussing the angles, the lighting, and the overall composition.

“This one,” Hongjoong pointed to a shot where you were caught in a candid moment of laughter. “It feels so genuine and warm. It’s the kind of photo that draws people in.”

Wooyoung nodded. “That’s exactly why she chose it. It’s authentic. It shows her personality in a way that’s relatable and endearing.”

Seonghwa scrolled to another photo, this one a more posed shot with you looking pensively out of a window. “And this one has a different kind of impact. It’s introspective and thoughtful. It adds depth to the collection.”

Hongjoong agreed, his eyes lingering on the image. “It’s a good balance. We need both the candid and the posed shots to tell a complete story.”

Wooyoung chimed in, “She really knows how to work the camera. Even in the posed shots, there’s this natural grace about her that just comes through.”

Hongjoong added, “The lighting in this one is perfect. It highlights her features without being too harsh. It’s soft, yet striking. And the backdrop of the Parisian venue really adds a timeless quality to the photos. It’s like we’re capturing a moment in time, a blend of the past and present.”

Wooyoung leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You know, while I think the backdrop and the angles definitely helped, I believe it was her visuals that completed the whole thing. There’s just something about the way she carries herself.”

Seonghwa nodded, glancing at the photos on the laptop screen. “I agree. Even when I first saw her on the other side of the road, she looked like she was part of some sort of painting. There’s an almost ethereal quality to her presence.”

Hongjoong, who had been lost in thought, found himself contemplating the same thing. There was something about you, not just your looks but your overall vibe, that felt different to him. It wasn’t just your physical appearance; it was the way you composed yourself, the quiet confidence you exude. It was as if you were in a world of your own, and yet fully present in the moment. He couldn’t quite place it, but it intrigued him deeply.

Snapping his fingers in front of Hongjoong’s face, Wooyoung dragged him out of his reverie. “Hey, earth to Hongjoong. You okay?”

Hongjoong blinked, realizing he had been staring off into space. “Sorry, I was lost in thought. Were you saying something?”

Wooyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I was just saying there’s something about her charisma that sets her apart from every other model I’ve worked with. Don’t you agree? It’s like she has this unique energy that just draws people in.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, his mind still partially occupied by his earlier thoughts. “Yeah... yeah, I agree. There’s definitely something special about her. It’s not just about looks. It’s more than that.”

Seonghwa leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. “I think It’s her presence. She has this natural grace and ease that’s rare. It’s like she belongs in front of the camera, but she’s not trying too hard. It’s effortless.”

Wooyoung smiled, his thoughts aligning with Seonghwa’s words. “You get it. It’s like she’s not performing, she’s just being herself. And that authenticity shines through in every shot.”

Hongjoong nodded. “That’s what makes her perfect for our brand. She embodies the kind of genuine beauty and charisma we want to showcase. It’s refreshing to work with someone who doesn’t rely on pretense.” He glanced at the photos once more, feeling a sense of satisfaction and excitement. “We’re lucky to have her on board.”

Seonghwa nodded, closing the laptop. “Agreed. And with Fashion Week coming up, we need all the positive energy we can get. This is a great start.”

Wooyoung stretched, a content smile on his face. “I can’t wait to see the reaction when these photos go live. I have a feeling they’re going to be a hit.”

As the conversation shifted to the finer details of the upcoming Fashion Week, the room buzzed with excitement and determination. They knew they were on the brink of something great, and they were ready to give it their all.

Yet, amidst all the planning and strategizing, Hongjoong couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of you. There was something about your presence that stayed with him, a quiet, unspoken connection that he couldn’t quite define. He knew there was more to you than met the eye, and he found himself eager to discover what that was.

🪞 — lividstar.

[marley-manson]

The whole Twilight of the Gods arc straight up sucks all kinds of ass, but I'm still in a very positive mood re this show so I'm gonna talk about the things I did like:

-- I don't actually dislike a lot of the Xena/Ares stuff? Ares is an enormous dick but he's the antagonistic entitled god of war so it's not exactly unexpected, and I find the way it leads up to him making a genuinely selfless sacrifice ultimately satisfying even if the emotional continuity could've been handled better. Plus I'm a fan of Xena throwing him around and playing with his tits when she's pretending to seduce him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-- And I'm also a fan of Ares impaling himself on Xena's sword while getting all seductive in their first reunion in 25 years.

-- Also I'm glad they made it very clear that Ares didn't know Livia was Xena's daughter lol.

-- I like Athena as the main antagonist, like that Athena has a mortal girlfriend, like Xena killing her. There's a lot of fic where Athena and Artemis show up and are treated as good and wise and deserving of respect and even worship, especially in contrast to evil Ares, and I've never really liked that sisterhood solidarity by default vibe lol so I like them as antagonists in canon. The final battle between Xena and Athena ft Artemis was also satisfying - the way Xena wins fair and square, and it only doesn't take the first time because Eve died first.

-- And as much as the whole plot is dumb, I like that Xena takes on like five gods at once and kills them all. When she gets Hades with the fire blowing technique 🥰

-- Oh also I love to see Gabrielle holding her own against some gods like Hades and Hephaeston. Not the war gods, but the gods whose thing isn't really combat? It makes sense to me (not having seen Hercules so having little reference point for the gods' power levels and also not really caring anyway), and it's awesome to see.

-- "Sounds like you and Xena had some great adventures together dad." Genuinely heartwarming as fuck.

-- Livia was irritating and the way she acted like a 16 year old when she was supposed to be 25 was obnoxious, BUT Adrienne Wilkinson was successfully channeling Hudson Leick imo and it was fun to hear Callisto's cadence from her.

-- Love Hope making an appearance while the Furies are driving Gab insane (even if that IS outside their jurisdiction lol) and drawing the obvious parallel between Eve and Hope. I like to think it's Gabrielle's very buried resentment being voiced, and frankly I support Gabby's right to murder Eve <3

-- Also on that note, I love Gab being the one to conclude that Livia is beyond saving and needs to die. I like to imagine she did feel a little thrill of satisfaction in turning the tables on Xena there, somewhere deep deep down, and maybe that lingering resentment over Hope is partly why she can write off Livia.

-- While Xena did wimp out when it came to killing her daughter and that sux, I give props for the moment when she says she could do it if she had to, and for the fact that the blocking of the fight leaves it ambiguous as to whether she would have pulled herself together and done it if Livia hadn't taken advantage of her hesitation. Like, at least she didn't drop the chakram and go "i can't," or something.

-- The show's attempt to ground Livia/Eve's magical personality change in memories of Xena taking care of her as a baby didn't work, but they clearly did make an effort to have some emotional continuity and I respect it.

-- Aphrodite helping Xena and Gabrielle because Gabrielle is her friend was very sweet and it's nice to see her get a dramatic scene.

-- It feels arbitrary and annoying that Xena doesn't just kill Ares - even if Xena does have feelings towards him to some extent lol that wouldn't stop her - but it is a fun moment when Ares is like "you can't bring yourself to shoot me," and she immediately shoots him. And I'm free to headcanon that Xena was not so much sparing Ares, as she was so pissed off at Ares in particular for enabling Eve's mortal wound that she deliberately chained him up just to make him watch her kill his family before she kills him.

-- Dying Eve telling Xena she liked spiders as a kid, and the scene at the end where she's playing with a spider on the beach was also genuinely sweet.

-- "Looks like you got your daughter back." "No, we got our daughter back." Of course I remembered this exchange distinctly, but I hadn't remembered that it was the very last line of the season. Excellent note to go out on.

[viscountessevie]

queen charlotte’s first meeting scene is as rip off from magnificent century kösem. i hope this will become bigger news when show starts

https://twitter.com/aofaglover/status/1573758456737124352?s=46&t=Cj8-wxU3Iw5Sa0s-i59iAw

Just wanna put this disclaimer out before anyone starts reading under the cut: Despite this ask & post and my own feelings about the show, it has been really heartwarming to see BIPOC fans delight in this show and my fandom friends gushing to me about this :D That is something no one can take away from them and I'm very glad they enjoyed it!

[This is also my first and last post on QC so my overall thoughts on the show and everything surrounding it will be there at the end!]

Hello again yall!! I actually started writing this a month ago when I was in Bali with my fam but could never find a good pic comparing George and Julian lmaooo so I gave up on it for a while. Also I've been hella busy at work but I'm back for a bit!

Heya anon! I'm not sure if I blogged about it but the moment the first teaser of their meet cute dropped, every one who has seen Turkish drama kicked up a fuss on Twitter. As they should!!

This is the original clip in question:

Alot of people did talk about it at the time - especially on Twitter and Reddit and I know a few of my mutuals on here talked about it briefly.

The ripping off was not a great start to the QC promo on top of "Love cures racism". All my friends have given their input on the "realistic" aspect of the show, I agree with their points and don't have much to add on tbh so I'll link the posts here:

Tbh yall can just go through Triv’s QC tag

Honorable Post Mentions: 

On top of this rip off meet cute; I picked this ask cos ever since the first few promo stills dropped my friends and I - particularly Zaira, Triv and Belle - noticed another rip off from our childhoods.

Can yall guess what it is?

Yall he's SO Julian coded please - I love him (this is me saying before the show aired and I won't be watching but the vibes are thereee)

Then the video of QC and LD came out recently (a month ago when I wrote this reply hahah):

Down to the dresses, it's giving:

Shoutout to @hptriviachamp for pointing it out lmao

Sidebar: while I'm not interested in QC's premise, I do love how well India and Arsema are playing their chars (from what I've seen so far) and I WOULD LOVE to see a version of Barbie's Princess and Pauper with these two!! Speaking of them, look at their chemistry in this pic!!

Also me seeing the end of the vid:

All in all to say the Kosem copying was bad and it should be called out but the Barbie references are all in good fun!

Since this is the main ask I've gotten about the show, I'm also going to put my main thoughts here and I don't think I'll be answering any follow up asks because every take has kind of been said and done. I really don't have much to add on since I'm not ever going to watch the show either.

Outside of the show, I adoree that India and Arsema are getting their flowers and the couple is being promoted how they should be! It's all well deserved. A small part of me does feel sad because if this is the PR team going all out, where was all this fanfare for S2, Jimone and Kathony?

However, based on what I've been told:

- I'm glad the chemistry between QC and George was good and everyone enjoyed their romance

- Who on the team hates LD?? Because COME ON martial rape AND giving her a not-hot older man IN VIOLET'S DAD OF ALL PEOPLE?? They did her so dirty. Idc if Lord Ledger gave her the first orgasm of her life, I see that man and no thank you. My girl deserved someone as hot as Adolphus!

- These two things is a HUGE reason why I can't watch the show cos of my triggers: I hate hate how gratuitous they were with the torture porn - both with LD's scenes with her husband (FOURRRR MARTIAL RAPE SCENES THAT'S LAUGHED OFF AS A GAG???) and George getting waterboarded for his mental illness. As someone who experienced SA and has a mental illness, these are very sore subjects for me so no thank you QC, but I will not be tuning in.

Anyway to close this out, congrats to the cast for doing a great job and whoever enjoyed the show, I'm glad you did! Those who read this and agree with me, just know you aren't alone in your critiques of the show. As long as you're being respectful and mindful of the language used, your criticism and enjoyment of the show are both valid!

[safesthaveninexistence]

I never have any reason to give up hope ever. The Vortex is boundlessly creative beyond measure. Conjuring shit up, dopplegangers(chills). I'm naturally rigged to believe Laika's real. I'm naturally rigged to believe my Zillionaire Superstar reality is real. Over an antonellamania number of indisputable evidence is rigged to be evident that me being a Zillionaire Superstar and Laika is SOMEHOW real. My intuition is rigged to be correct. I'm rigged to have precisely what I manifest. Bruh I got chills Luz Cuevas conjured this shit up. I conjure up a whole new reality Laika is real just as powerfully as Luz Cuevas conjured a whole new situation of her dead baby to be alive. My life is rigged to have insane twists in my favor. I'm so unbearably appealing. Not having me in their lives is dreadfully unbearable(this is powerful). Unseen forces are rigged to help me. The way I talk is so unbelievably satisfying forreal. When I sleep I go full comatose. I'm rigged to follow my internal guidance system(chills). I'm rigged to have strong communication with my internal intelligence. My needs are rigged to be fulfilled. Laika's manifesting for me too. Laika's yearning for me too. Laika's pining for me too. Laika manifested me too. From head to toe. Laika feels so dreamy. Laika keeps potently manifesting me. Laika only gets infinitely stronger and stronger at manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely powerful at manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely desperate at manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely derangeder at manifesting at me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely effective at manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely unignorably powerful at manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely unhinged at manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely magical at manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely staggeringly powerful, potent and effective at manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely obsessive with manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely penetrating and piercing when it comes to manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely capable when it comes to manifesting me. Laika only gets more and more infinitely powerful at getting me to be with her in the physical realm. Laika's just as deranged as me. Shit gon be insane, we fuckin manifested each other's birthdays. When Laika sees me she's so relieved. She's relieved to see manifesting me wasn't in vain(chills). I easily and naturally shift to the reality where it already exists. Everytime I see people I don't like they energetically lose by over an antonellamania number of times. My self-expression goes dummy hard. I'm rigged to have my eyes on the prize(chills). Laika reality-shifts her ass off until she finds me. I'm rigged to stay in wonderland. I'm rigged to stay in the rabbit hole that is my within. I'm rigged to only act on what resonates with me and that's okay. My within is rigged to put me at ease. My inner world is rigged to put me at ease. I'm rigged to never pussyfoot. My life is rigged to be heartwarming. I'm a vibe all of these motherfuckers hear me. I got this dope ass vibe all of these motherfuckers hear me. The vortex gon give me the lead role in a Summer's Moment. I'm a different vibe I'm a vibe they never seen. I'm a staggeringly massive force. I'm staggeringly cool. I'm staggeringly the dopest. I'm the apex predator of all things cool and dope. Everyone is WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY into me(chills). Everyone is WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY into my compelling melody(chills). I'm the apex predator of zeigeist(chills). I'm the apex predator of being compelling. I'm rigged to never take anything serious. I'm rigged to have fun with what the gods made for fun. My desires are rigged to say FUCK THE 3D. I'm rigged to have staggeringly aggressive expansion. I'm all of the zodiac signs bitch IM A BULL(chills). I'm rigged to give it to myself in the 4D and fulfill it. PHORPOPES is inherently rigged to work with me.

[chrishoughton]

Dear Chris Houghton, My Name is Owen Dillon and First off I wanna say that you and your brother created one of the most underrated and wholesome shows that I have ever seen and I'm a big- no, scratch that huge fan of Big City Greens.

I really love the visual humour and the slice of life format, It really gives me tons of Chowder and Harvey Beaks vibes. My Favourite episode is a tie between Animation Abomination and Cheap Show, just because you guys completely demolished the fourth wall in every way possible and the cameo at the end of Cheap show was just the icing on the cake.

My favourite character would have to be either Gloria or Tilly. I like Gloria because she has tons of goals in life, but various things kept her from achieving the things she wants to do, which most things for her have been achieved like opening her own cafe along with Alice, trying to win over Kevin, stuff like that. and Tilly is heartwarming, sweet, kind, and in my opinion the funniest character on the show.

Anyways, I wanted to take some time and answer a few questions about the future of the show (Don’t worry there’s not that many questions).

1. Most Disney channel shows have ended around 4 seasons if they get popular enough, Like Phineas and Ferb, Star Vs, and Kim Possible to name a few, Are you planning to finish it after season 4, not because i'm saying the show’s terrible, I love it to death but i don’t want it to go through seasonal rot.

2. How in the World are two able to get so many celebrities to not just cameo but to be a part of the show, the easiest example being Danny Trejo as Vasquez?

3. Will the movie have a different style of animation than the show, like when cartoons get theatrical releases, and when will it be planned to come out probably after season 3 right, right?

4. How does it feel to become Disney Channel's biggest hit for almost 5 years?

Well that’s all I wanna say, I hope you read my letter and it gives you, your brother, and the whole team at Disney Television Animation love and support. Your (Hopefully) city slicker pal, Owen Dillon.

Thanks for writing in and watching the show, Owen! I'm so happy to hear BCG resonates with you so much. I love hearing that. Answers to your questions below:

1.) I agree- The longer a TV show continues, the more at risk it is to suffer in quality. One way we combat this on BCG is to continuously challenge ourselves creatively. That was one of the main reasons we took the Greens to the country. It was a huge undertaking to essentially "relaunch" but doing so, keeps us on our toes. None of us on BCG want the quality to dip and it's hard work to ensure that doesn't happen.

2.) Casting celebrities is difficult! We have a few tricks that we'll keep to ourselves but a lot of credit goes to our wonderful casting directors at Disney TVA.

3.) More details of the BCG movie to come! For now, my lips are sealed.

4.) It feels amazing to witness BCG's popularity slowly grow over the years. I remember thinking early on in production of season 1 that this show could really become something. So it's incredibly satisfying to see so many other people feel similarly. I'm so thankful to everyone who watches Big City Greens- y'all have allowed us to keep going!

[oikadori]

hi! can i have some dating headcanons with nishinoya, yaku, and sugawara? thank you! ☺️

DATING HEADCANONS

⇢ Incudes : nishinoya, sugawara, yaku 

⇢ Genre//Warnings : f!reader, fluff , kinda suggestive  (suga being h on main), swears 

⇢  WC~ 1,1K

a/n: of course !! omg i had fun making these sksksk I love my libero squad along with the pretty setter hehehe, hope you enjoy this!! alsoo i changed my banners 😅😅

reblogs are highly appreciated!!

Dating him is such an experience to be honest

Nishinoya is naturally very loud and energetic, you’ll never get bored with him...I SWEAR

His perfect dates consist in doing as much things as he can squeeze into your schedule, arcade dates following by movies and ending in concerts or festivals

 imagine jumping  with a big crowd, you and nishinoya screaming their hearts out as you sing PLEASEE where do i sign??

Also, expect lots and lots of improvised trips. like, no destination at all. he just casually says “hey pack some clothes, we are going out” and you end up in the beach... or in the cafeteria downtown 

I strongly believe that nishinoya is one of the bests persons to find comfort in, he is NEVER too tired for you

Whenever you text him about the bad day you had, he will be in your front door within the next 15 minutes 

Nishinoya compliments you 24/7 and laughs the loudest at your jokes, even when they're bad. and his laugh is  just SO genuine that you congratukate yourself for it

he unconsciously ends up giving you all of his hoodies and days later he would make a mess in his house looking for them because he forgot you have them

OMFG this baby crow is one of the most clingy and affectionate among the haikyuu boys

It is impossible for him to keep his hands off you! Especially when you are in public. Plants smooches all over your face and kisses your nose because “you look SO cute when you scrunch it up!! Do it again please”

ALSO your breasts are his personal pillows, i'm sorry for you >:) he buries his head in between  them whenever  he has the chance, mumbling about how soft they are

Dating Nishinoya also includes helping him to dye his hair, he sits with a closed eye smile on your bed, like a puppy waiting for a treat, as you tint his hair. feeling your fingers in his messy hair makes his stomach flip

I see him as the type who will drop everything he is doing, the moment he sees you crossing the door

Whenever you bump into each other in the hallways, he literally runs towards you to plant a passionate kiss on your lips, pulling you by the waist to deepen the kiss as if he hasn’t seen you in years

and the fact he doesn't do it for being a dramatic but for missing you THAT much makes it all so heartwarming :')

Nishinoya is just so proud to be your partner that he introduces himself first as your boyfriend before as karasuno’s libero i want him please >:(

Another short king that treats you like a queen 😌

He is very reliable and supporting but is the type that will also give you lectures when you do stupid shit

if you guys fight, he is not sleeping until you’ve talked it out, he hates going to sleep knowing you are mad at him, he doesn’t care if you end making facetime at 2 am

I bet it is very amusing for Nekoma to watch how his libero goes from angry yaku hitting lev to blushy yaku melting in your kiss all in the same minute

Always waits for you outside your class to lunch, shoulder resting on the door frame and hands on his pockets, a soft smile settling on his lips when you jog up to him

Honestly, he really loves PDA but he will hide it in public…or at least try it

Yaku tells kuroo YOU are the clingy one when in reality he is the one that wraps you like a burrito with his arms whenever you lay on the couch

since he gives me classy vibes, his ideal dates are taking you to a fancy restaurants…I mean have you seen timeskip yaku?? brrrrr

he LOVES to spoil you, like, at least two times per month you get cute necklaces or earrings or both!

gets super blushy when you appear during his matches and gets even worse when you start cheering him up, he start cursing under his breath “why is her voice so nice and sweet???” all while hiding his red face with a towel  

really, sometimes he gets super surprised on how weak and soft you make him…which is the reason why kuroo always have a sassy smirk whenever you are around, ready to watch the red mess yaku is about to become

He deadass will get mad at you for how adorable you are and how his heart always seems to be about to burst everytime you laugh

if you sit together in class, he holds your hand under the desk as his other hand hides the silly smile on his face

even though yaku is a very dominant kind of guy he can also be insecure which makes him very possessive with you

remember those necklaces he gives you? They have his initials on them, a subtle way to tell all everyone you are taken

Yaku always makes sure you are packaging all the important stuff in your bag like he seriously would hand you pads or tampons because “I think your period is about this day of the month, right?” *sobs*

oh my god, I’M MELTING, okay give me a sec

All the things you do have the words "sweet" printed all over

don’t get me wrong, suga can be a little perv too. Open mouthed kisses in the storage room and subtle glances at your rear whenever you bend down…but still sweet tho

suga is the type of boyfriend who loves making handcrafts for you, I imagine him making for your 5 month anniversary a little box filled with polaroids of all your dates along with brownies he made himself!

yeah a real sweetheart, however, at the bottom of the box a nice, red bra is waiting for you ;)

He is super touchy-feely his hands always find their way to your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin drawing a few giggles out of you, causing suga to melt

When it comes to disagreements with you, the man is SO WEAK for you. He always ends up indulging you, not able to hold his angry face for too much at your pouty lips

Suga LOVES to see you taking initiative and definitely supports your ideas of dates and activities for both of you

But for him, the perfect dates are strolling across the city at night, watching your face under the lights as you resume him your day, hand in hand.

He just loves hearing you talk, when he can’t sleep he just calls you to fall asleep at the sound of your voice

Remember I said he can’t get angry at you? well that applies to you, too. you can't never get really mad at him, whenever you try to start a discussion he goes “boop” and pecks your nose not letting you talk <33

If he gets jealous, wait, when he gets jealous his perfect way to let everyone know you are taken is by leaving hickeys on strategical spots on you where they are visible enough but not totally exposed,

I feel like suga loves spending time with your family and will introduce you pretty quickly to his own too

Like, at dinners, you two would end up taking care of your little cousins or siblings, and suga can’t help to think how good you would look with your own kids, causing his heart to flutter

When he finishes practice he just rests his head in the crook of your neck, getting intoxicated by your scent before mumbling a sweet “hi, angel” as you drag him out of the gym...

and everyone is like “awwwwww” but that is because they don’t get to see how he is atacking your neck with kisses that will surely leave a mark 

Thanks for reading!! 

[blueprint-han]

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay​ skznta event, written for @stayndays​ !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it!  ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started  is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”. 

 “Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them. 

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock. 

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.” 

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose. 

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date. 

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too. 

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter. 

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it. 

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion? 

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own? 

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it. 

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous. 

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long. 

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now. 

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch. 

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was  neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across. 

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all. 

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.” 

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.” 

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned. 

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon.  You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have  the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door. 

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod. 

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

 It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up. 

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days. 

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly. 

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it. 

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately. 

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly. 

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.” 

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?” 

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.” 

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course. 

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

taglist: @inkidz​ @stayverse​ @districtninewriters​ @kpopscape​ @skzwritersclub​ + @sunoo-luvs​ @sleepylixie​ @rae-blogging​ @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @guerillrah​ @p2q3r4​ @baby-innie​ (Please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!) *oh holy lord pls let this show up in the tags*

[mjsparkour]

Okay, I asked you a while back for some fic recs and I am in need of more. Have you read any Gina x Ricky lately? Would love for you to share the ones you've loved

Hey!

I’m so glad you liked my rec the last time, there have been alot of fics that have been written since you last asked so this list was super hard to limit. There are alot in this list alone (17 overall I think). I could always recommend more, Rina writers are just so talented. So here's a list of some of my favorites <3

The Story of Us by peculiarblue

‘gina learns that sometimes things have to fall apart so that they can fall back together, right where they were always meant to be’ This is a complete 2 part chapter fic

Thee Rina bible. It’s everything we could ever want and need. Everything we want s2 to be and more. It’s an absolute masterpiece in every way. So many parts where I nearly died, the angst in the fight scene, the tension before they made up (the dress scene that reminded me so much of that amylaurie scene I lost my mind a little more), them being absolutely gone for each other!!! it’s just perfect in every way.

When Your With Me and Were Alone by orphan account

‘Ricky Bowen remembers everything.’ This is a one-shot three-part completed series.

My favorite series, it’s gotta be. It’s the first of its kind for rina fics. Lore does an incredible job of realistically writing rina’s characterization and reactions to Gina moving and what would happen after. A wonderfully talented writer, utilizing the power of her words while minimalist carries an effect. 

You Know Me Better by This_is_Riri

‘Gina was moving. This would be her sixth move in seven years. She was used to it by now...only this time, it felt different. Post episode 7.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

This one really gets you at your gut. Heart-wrenching for both characters but mainly gina. The vents that happen to both characters, it just makes sense that so much more than their vunerabilities bonds them together. Perfect execution of the mutual understanding trope. 

and I know I’ve kissed you before by ptrprkrs

‘but I didn’t do it right / can i try again, try again, try again? or: 5 times ricky kisses gina + 1 time she kisses back’ This is a complete one-shot.

I love a good five times plus one fic. This one is heartwarming, cheeky and cute. It gives a healthy balance of the inevitable anguish that comes with pining (and not just for the character but for frustrated readers that just wanna put these kids together already) but also the sweet innocence and fluff from first love (or first love adjacent). 

what love might have done by rradioh

‘Ricky follows his gut. Everything changes. Some things stay the same.’ This is a completed one shot.

A good look into what could've been for season one. Reflecting moments that felt like they could’ve easily been placed in the show and showed the subtly of the growth of rinas relationship. It wasn’t something that was thrown into our faces but came gradually and this fic facilitates that growth with key moments that add to that. A Great one-shot.

And the 7th Thing I Hate The Most That You Do (You Make Me Love You) by iknowpIaces

‘It doesn’t help that he really does look good in his costume. God, she hates him. She hates him. She hates him. Then, he has the nerve to smile at her. And Gina hates how that smile alone sends her over the moon.’ This is a completed one shot.

SOOOO GOOD. No one understands, I love the trope where one person has a crush on the other and it's unrequited (or it seems that way) but eventually it's apparent that they're also just as gone for that person as soon as they start moving on, or feeling fine with having their feelings not reciprocated. Then they're both just mutual pining messes, ugh I love it. This fic handles the trope with care and rina just comes together organically. 

lesson in love by finelineholland

“Give me 4 weeks. I’ll help you out. Like… a crash course, if you will. 'How to be the perfect boyfriend for Nini Salazar-Roberts': A class taught by yours truly.” This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

A rom-com in the form of a fic. It’s so true to Ricky and Gina as characters and their dynamic. The writing is really good and gives so much in terms of plot. I really hope it updates soon because I love a good makeover/transformation fic, it gives she’s all that and geek charming in the best ways.  

take me to the feeling by peculiarblue

‘gina meets a stranger at a party she doesn't want to be at, and let's herself fall in love for the night, wherever it takes them’ This is a completed one shot.

Katie does it again. Another classic that makes us fall for rina while they fall for each other under the stars. You can’t help but feel something for them right off the bat because theirs something about the cheekiness of the dynamic and so real. You can’t help but fall for them, a must read.

The Last Time by mytearsricochet

‘this is the one where gina meets ricky and nothing is against them. except for a few misunderstandings, forgotten birthdays, wrong people, and missed opportunities. because as much as love doesn’t care about time, this is the one where time cares about love. and with time, everything falls into place.’ This is a completed one shot.

SO UNBELIAVBLEY UNDERRATED. This fic is too excellent, it's everything rinas could want. it’s an incredibly well done long slowburn that makes you strap in for the ride. With all those teasing moments where they're mutually pining and they're just on the precipice of finding out their feelings for one another only to hold back and stay friends (until the end of course). The end makes you work for it, but so worth it when you get to it. 

10 Days in “Love” by kindredspiritsxo 

‘It was almost the end of high school and nobody had it figured out. Especially Ricky Bowen. His parents had recently divorced, he had no idea what he's doing for college, his longtime girlfriend dumped him the month before and now he's been replaced by one of the most popular guys in school.

To make matters worse, he leaves for Europe in two days for his senior trip. The same senior trip that said ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend were going on. So, Ricky did what any desperate teenage boy would do to try and get his girlfriend back: he devised a plan. A plan that included the help of Gina Porter and playing pretend for 10 days.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

I love a good traveling fic. Sometimes all it takes to get a character to wake up about things going on in their lives or feelings for character b is a good change of scenery. This fic does a great job of utilizing the enviornment to facilitate rinas love story through one of my favorite tropes, the fake dating trope. There's some angst along the way because nothing can ever come easy but it's not without its reward. It gives me major spiderman far from home vibes just solely because of petermjs adorableness and how that energy kinda translates to rina in this fic more so in the beginning before they have this repertoire. 

on the line by peculiarblue

‘with everything in her life finally at a stand still for once the last thing gina needs is one curly haired skater to come in and give her a reason to change again

(or, gina lets ricky back into her life the only way she knows how, at a distance, through daily voicemails, until her heart remembers why she can't love him anymore.)’ This is a completed one shot.

It hurts in the best way possible! that is the best way to describe this fic. Were taken on a journey where I personally wanted rina to just talk to each other in person but the magic was all in the voicemails and the power of their connection. There was a satisfying ending, I couldn't ask for more. If you haven’t read literally everything written by Katie go read it, it won't disappoint.

but everywhere just brings me back to you by ptrprkrs

‘or, ricky is just a little in love with the voice of the girl at the starbucks drive-thru’ This is a completed one shot.

An amazing fic that hits every spot effortlessly, even the ones you didn’t know you had. Like Ricky being a lovesick puppy going to a drive-thru just to hear Gina’s voice for coffee, he doesn’t drink or like. All the while they’d been connected all along. I’m a sucker for any kind of soulmate implications or stories where people are unknowingly connected like that so this ones a real favorite for me. It’s sweet, lighthearted and funny and a great read.

About Love by goldenthread

‘a series of Interconnected one shots and canonical aus for Ricky and Gina <3.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

Here's where I enter some shameless self-promo...I wrote this recently. It’s just some loosely connected one-shots I have of rina based on canon. I write about an alternate first meeting, what would've happened if Gina had to understudy Nini in a rehearsal and (for a future chapter) a babysitting au (for what happened when Gina actually told Ricky the truth, she was babysitting her neighbor's kid when she talked to him at the skatepark). Check it out if it sounds like your thing!

in your eyes by finelineholland

‘you always try to hide the pain, you always know just what to say. i always look the other way. i'm blind, i'm blind. in you eyes, you lie, but i don't let it define you.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

There is something about Rina being written about from an outside perspective that is just so excellent. The story starting with Nini noting the obvious chemistry and their connection and being threatened by it, I don’t know it's just so pleasing to me. Another fic like that one of my favorites (one that I’m pretty sure I’ve suggested in my other rec list), pretend i don’t see it in your eyes by spobylol. Another absolutely excellent read that does not miss once. This story in contrast also writes from rina’s perspective as well which I also thought was well done. 

right from the start I knew by anonymous

‘“Uh.” Ricky really didn’t think this far ahead. To be fair, it’s not like he’s ever thought ahead about anything ever in his life, so this is really to be expected. “We - forget about it? Maybe. Or like - I don’t know. I think I have to figure out how to be like - a person right now. By myself.”

“Same.” Gina says absently. “I’ve spent what feels like my whole life thinking about what other people think of me. It’d be nice to - to be able to try looking beyond that for a change.”

Post-Season 1. Ricky and Nini break up, but that doesn't mean things work out right away.’ This is a completed one shot.

The most iconic love confession I’ve read in a rina fic to date. it’s just so good, a certified rush every single time. The mutual pining hits spectacularly especially when you see just how soon it starts to hit Ricky that he’d made a mistake getting with Nini and him paying for that mistake. The writing only amplifies it. Also Ricky telling Gina he’s obsessed with her? yeah, I automatically added this fic to my list of faves.

If they only knew by goldenthread

‘Ricky Bowen never really bought into the whole soulmate thing (except he did) but life got in the way and now he's sort of pretending to date new (totally not intimidating) girl Gina Porter to win back the one and only Nini Salazar Roberts. Not a single thing could go wrong.

or

The one where Ricky and Gina aren't so good at the whole soulmate thing and they fake date.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

More shameless self promo, sorry y’all but I’m super proud of this one. It’s a soulmate and fake dating au, combining two of my fave tropes into one to make this (surprisingly) long fic. It’s a whirlwind of emotions and a lot of moving parts in the story. I plan on updating within two months then after that there's three more chapters until its finished :) hope y’all enjoy it if you decide to give it a read!

you are the best thing & the worst thing (that’s happened to me this whole year) by tophsgf

‘Gina's roommate Nini is unbearable. What's more unbearable, however? Her very charismatic and totally off-limits sort-of boyfriend.’ This is a completed one shot. 

An amazing fic, I need more people to know about it! I really like fics where the development between Ricky and Gina is gradual, which seems to be the case for a lot of fics but for this one in particular I like its execution. Obviously, at first, he’s with Nini so it’s like the dynamic is at a point of comparison from the start but we quickly learn that thanks to good ole mutual understanding and overall compatibility Ricky and Gina are just right for each other. A fun read that hits all the bases.

[aitarose]

hi! i’ve been so inactive lately and wanted to post something today, and i realized i haven’t made an appreciation post for my moots in a hot minute—so hey hotties, here’s some cute words about uu. oh and this isn’t all of my mutuals, just the one’s i’ve spoken to outside of the discord lol asjfdkl

@hesthermay —❥ you’re one of my best friends and ilysm and i hope that we get to meet in person one day, so you can endlessly hear me talk about how much i love jimmy woo. also i want to get matching marvel bracelets or smth, gonna look on etsy later for us ajskdlf

@probablydisgusting —❥ you’re like actually so funny and sweet, whenever you pop in the gc on snap just to say goodmorning or goodnight—it really makes everyone’s day and we love having you around. plus, you were one of the first people to pop into my inbox when i was an atla blog and i think that’s so nice.

@imarizaki —❥ i literaly love you sm mari, like you’re adorable and i want to give you a hug, i feel like you give rlly good hugs. and congrats on 400!! you deserve it and i hope 500 comes rolling around fast so you can hit another milestone in the near future ajskfdl

@tsukishumai —❥ cam i swear i know your name like I SWEAR I DO! you’re like an older sister to everyone in the discord and you bring such a comforting presence like it’s so nice to have you in the chat whenever you choose to pop in. you’re quite literally the calm to our insanity

@fukurodianthus —❥ dani you’re asleep rn but when you wake up and see this i want you do know that ily wifey. pls i love it when you harass me in my inbox, i think it’s so funny AND IM GOING TO FLOOD YOUR’S EVENTUALLY I JUST NEED TO BECOME ACTIVE AGAIN ASDJKL

@missmorosis —❥ you’re literally one of my favorite moots ever and you’re always so sweet to me and everyone else around you, it’s so heartwarming to see your positivity and happiness on tumblr and how hard you work! pls ilysm

@ray-ofmoonlight —❥ I LOVE TALKING TO YOU ABOUT THE BACHELOR. i haven’t responded in a hot minute, but dw i’ll answer in a bit i have to go through my messages jaksfld. you’re so nice and fun, and literally the sweetest ever

@diorzumi​ —❥ hi rheya! i’m so glad you took the time and all that hard work to make the server, like that’s insane and i still can’t believe you did all of that. pls the amount of effort you put into keeping it up is so evident and amazing!! also ur rlly pretty, like RLLY pretty

@luvoikawa​ —❥ gigi!! my face literally lights up whenever i see you in my notifs or on my dash pls. i love your energy sm and the presence you bring to the discord. like idk, you just seem really cool to me, does that make sense? like you have cool girl energy.

@sugas-cookie​ —❥ hello rissie. you should be sleeping rn, but ily and you’re my favorite and only child, and no matter what i say i would never bring you back to the ditch. but like...the frogs? i fucking hate the frogs, abolish all frogs they make me physically cringe i cannot.

@kei7ime​ —❥ CHLOEEE!! every time i see your theme i feel so satisfied, like it’s so pretty it rlly is. you’re so fun and i love talking to you or just popping in your inbox to say hi. omg hi chloe!! ok ok ily

@pxnk-velvet​ —❥ angie your drawing of us are so cute and i love them sm, and i can’t wait to read the story that you’ve been writing of our gc as a volleyball team, like pls i’m so excited. also the line “just shut up already, angie” lives in my head rent free

@miyalove​ —❥ hi dylan! i haven’t popped in your inbox in a while but i just wanted to tell you that i love u and you’re so nice and sweet and ilysm. you give off hot girl energy dylan, like for real, you rlly do.

@iwaizoom​ —❥ HI JADE. you’re so nice and your blog is so pretty, like the light green jaskljl PLS ITS SO PRETTY. i love the vibes you give off like you’re so chill and so easy to talk to sjakljdkl pls ilysm

@kageyuji​ —❥ lore i love you. like i love you. every time i talk to you i just feel happy like idk it’s this overwhelming feeling, you just have this gift where people feel comfortable when they’re talking to you. and your blog is so pretty pls asdjl

@hikariakaashi​ —❥ you’re one of my favorite moots, firstly bc of our interactions on tumblr in the early days of the discord and now on snap too. you have rlly good style, like rlly good style—and whenever you do your voice asks, your voice is like rlly pretty! girl you have a rlly pretty voice!

@ceci-chan​ —❥ hi twinnie! pls i think it’s so funny that we have literally the exact same nose, that’s actually wild. it’s so fun to watch your blog grow and your events are so cute and ily

@nekomabvc​ —❥ i buried you in here so you’d have to search for your part. literally going to say nothing i’m tired of writing about you goodbye. you called me a whore this morning. that’s not very swag of you, i’m going to report you to mab and cancel you on corpse tumblr.

@bellesowl​ —❥ hi isa! we haven’t interacted all that much, but in the times we have you’ve been so kind. and you’re rlly pretty, just sayin. you’re blog is also super aesthetic and i literally live for it, pls the muted tones are everything ajsdlk

@gellysticks​ —❥ angela pls you’re actually so funny like you’re so funny. every time your tiktoks come up in my suggested they literally make me laugh pls—but the frogs are terrible. abort frogs. this is a frog slandering blog. me and all my homies HATE frogs.

@cafemiya​ —❥ issy you give off such hot girl energy (and you are a hot girl anyways) and your energy is so contagious, like idk how it just is. you bring this positivity to the discord just by being there and i know everyone is so thankful that you’re so interactive with us jaskfdl

@biqherosix​ —❥ DANIZA I HAVEN’T OPENED YOUR SNAP YET BUT I RLLY WANT TO HEAR YOUR BAND PLAY. pls that’s literally so cool, like i wish i was in a cool band with my friends jsakdljkl. i love talking to you and we’ve been friends for like a good three months now which is crazy

@velvetfireworks​ —❥ rach i literally never read fics but yours are so good and they live in my head rent free. PLS THE SAKUSA ONE FOR THE BROKEN HEARTS CLUB AUDHS. you’re so nice and so talented and i reread your masterlist OMG I JUST REMEMBERED THE MOB AU ONE THAT ONE IS PERFECTION.

@hajiswife​ —❥ hi gabbie! your blog is gorgeous and your so nice pls!! like i literally can’t believe we’re mutuals it hits me like a brick. i love your works and your energy sjaklfdjl i’ll probably be popping in your inbox later just to say hi lol

@svgashi​ —❥ NIKE!!! omg we’re literally sister wives. you’re the first moot i had on tumblr that understood how great sugawara is and it’s like a breath of fresh air from the constant slandering my friends give him. ILY

@sexy-bee-juice​ —❥ aja!! i love getting your messages and just saying the most out of pocket things with you, and your reblogs make me laugh so hard like you’re rlly funny. also my broken french is terrible but i’m glad it makes you laugh ajskfdl

@koutarousangel​ —❥ MICKEY PLS YOURE SO FUNNY. I LOVE YOUR VIBES AND EVERYTHING LIKE YOURE FUNNY. and ily too. just putting that in there in case i haven’t said it in a while <3

@hvnlydmn​ —❥ hi ains! congrats on 5k!! that’s literally so insane like omg you must be reeling rn jadskfl you really really deserve it tho, everyone sees how hard you work and how much content you produce in such a short amount of time CONGRATS ILY

@akaashi-bby​ —❥ victoria you were the first person i talked to teen wolf with in like three years pls. i’m listening to a song from the show atm and it’s making me sad but ilysm and i love talking to you about literally anything

@laineywritesstuff​ —❥ LAINE!! hi! you’re so pretty like you look like you give the warmest hugs and i feel like if i ever met you in person i’d just get engulfed does that make sense? you’re so nice and ilysm and i hope you’re have a fantastic day!

@kiyoalex​ —❥ you’re rlly funny. like rlly funny. and i feel like we match each other’s energy pretty well in pms. pls my insanity is too real back there BUT IT’S OK I THINK BC YOU SEEM TO UNDERSTAND IT LOL ILY

@shoutamajiki​ —❥ hi nana!! you’re so nice and i’m so glad you joined the discord! and i’m so sorry i added you to my terrible private story on snap pls it’s so bad i’m very very sorry about that jksalfjdl

@sunacity​ —❥ nea i love your works so much like literally they LIVE in my head. you’re so talented and i can’t believe we’re mutuals that’s literally insane bc i love your stuff pls. and on top of being talented you’re so nice, like the nicest jaskdflj i can’t

ok ok i think that’s it for now, this isn’t all of my mutuals—but it’s the one’s i interact with the most and if we are moots and i didn’t include you pls my inbox or pms are always open to just like go insane in. ok have a great rest of your day!!

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

deck the halls

Hi everyone, Merry Christmas if you’re celebrating! Here’s nothing but straight fluff for Petey, hope you all like it! Major props to @hockeyboysiguess​ for not only getting me to simp for him but also being so wonderful when I’ve needed someone to encourage me to finish, and for everyone else who’s let me bounce ideas off of them or yelled at me in my inbox to get it done. As always, please let me know what you think of it, I love hearing feedback - comments, reblogs (I always read the tags) and inboxes are so so welcomed!

word count: 3.9k+

You could tell something was wrong the minute that you walked through the door, into the living room of your boyfriend’s apartment. It was the first week of December, a time when most houses in the city — and the city itself, for that matter — decked the halls with tinsel, baubles, and cut-out paper snowflakes. You were no exception; really, your love for the season exceeded even the gaudy holiday displays in the windows of department stores, trying to entice passers-by to buy into their “annual-sale-that’s-not-even-a-sale-because-prices-are-so-inflated-anyways” sale. You lived and breathed Christmas as soon as it hit December 1st. Poorly but lovingly-decorated sugar cookies were delivered to your friends and neighbors, tinsel and ornaments hung from every surface imaginable in your apartment, Michael Bublé blasted 24/7. So, aside from those who didn’t celebrate, you expected everyone else to act accordingly. And if their version of Christmas didn’t include pounds of icing and a metric fuckton of ornaments, well then that just wouldn’t do. 

So when you crossed the threshold into Elias’ living room, entirely bare and devoid of anything even remotely resembling Christmas cheer, you were more than a little shocked. You supposed you hadn’t quite been paying attention much last year, your first Christmas as a couple five or so months after you had gotten together. Probably still stuck in the honeymoon phase, you thought with a grin. Though, to be fair, you really still were in the honeymoon phase with Elias, after nearly a year and a half of dating. Which wasn’t to say you didn’t have your disagreements; you weren’t a perfect couple, of course you didn’t always see eye to eye on everything and got annoyed with each other on more than one occasion, but that same sense of wonder and unfeigned giddiness that came with a new relationship hadn’t left yet. And honestly, you weren’t sure it ever would. You certainly didn’t want it to. So when you looked in his living room and didn’t see any lights hanging, no tacky-but-heartwarming wreath of Christmas cards, no tree, you didn’t react with anything but sheer disbelief. You looked to the kitchen, but there was nothing. Dining room? Not a roll of wrapping paper to be found, no piney scent wafting through the air from some Glade plug-in you got on sale because the smell from the tree alone just wasn’t cutting it. How could someone live like this?

Elias walked into the room, his hair still damp from a post-practice shower, and flashed a smile at you, kissing you briefly before pulling back and looking at the dumbfounded expression still plastered on your face. “Everything okay?” he said, waving his hand in front of your eyes. “Did they mess up the order or something?” Oh, right, order. You had almost forgotten about the food in your hand, the entire reason you were coming over to his apartment in the first place. Lunch. 

You quickly shook your head. “No, everything was fine. Your Pad Kee Mao, my green curry.” 

He took the bag from you, placing it on the counter as he opened the cabinets and took out two plates. “You sure nothing’s up? You look like you saw a ghost.”

You gestured around the apartment. “There’s...nothing here?” 

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean there’s nothing here?”

“No decorations,” you explained. “No lights, no ornaments, no tinsel, no tree? It’s like you didn’t even know it’s Christmas, Elias.”

Elias rolled his eyes. “I forgot about your Christmas obsession.” 

“Obsession?” you asked, one eyebrow perched in question. 

“Love for Christmas?” Elias tried. 

“Better.”

He shrugged. “I have a couple things in the closet, I’ll probably pull them out soon. There’s a string of lights, a little stuffed Santa Brock gave me last year, a tree that’s about this tall,” he gestured at his waist. “Christmas is a thing back home, obviously, but it’s not as...hyped up? Emphasized? As it is here.” 

“Such are the pitfalls of capitalism,” you mused.

Elias nodded, digging through the drawers for forks. “And plus, we’ve got Saint Lucia’s Day, so that’s definitely where the more Swedish-specific traditions come out.”

You let out a groan. “I can’t get over the fact that you have a fake tree. It physically pains me.”

“It’s much more practical,” Elias said, trying to justify himself. “You don’t have to water it, it’s not going to drop needles, saves you money in the long run.”

Your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head. “Seriously? You sound like a grandpa, Lias. And it’s not like you’re exactly hurting for money.” You suddenly looked at Elias, your eyes so laser-focused that it startled him for a moment. “I’m going to make you love Christmas.”

He sputtered. “It’s not that I don’t like Christmas, I just have never much been into all of the extra stuff that goes along with it.”

“I won’t allow it,” you said, shaking your head. “Eat your Thai, we’re going to a tree lot.”

The tree

Thirty minutes later, you pulled into a tree lot in South Vancouver. You put the car into park, looking over at Elias. “I take my tree shopping very seriously, as you’re about to see. They’ve usually got some kind of chart or whatever at the front to show you the different kinds of trees you can get—“

Elias cut you off. “I’m going to stop you there. Different kinds? There’s not just, I don’t know, the generic Christmas trees, what are they...firs or whatever?”

You huffed, blowing a piece of hair that had escaped from under your Canucks beanie, one of the first gifts Elias had given to you when you had started dating. “Well, of course there are. But there’s noble firs versus douglas firs, versus blue spruces, versus white firs, versus white spruces, so if you don’t know what you’re looking for it can actually be pretty overwhelming.”

            “I can see that,” Elias said dryly. “So what’s the difference between them?”

“Size and color, mostly,” you replied, “but also things like the shape of the branches, how much weight they can hold, even what they smell like. This place has a ton of different ones, so we can walk around and you can figure out what you like.”

Elias lasted about ten minutes before turning to you with a blank expression that caused you to break out in raucous laughter. “I don’t know what I want. I thought I did, but there’s hundreds of trees here,” he gestured wildly, “and they’re all wrapped up, so you can’t even really see them, and all I know is that I want a Christmas tree that looks like a Christmas tree.”

You smiled at your boyfriend. “That’s not nothing, Lias. I think we’re actually getting somewhere. So you want a more classic look, big and fluffy?” He nodded. “Okay, then we’re probably going to want to go with a noble fir or grand fir.”

“How did you learn all this?” Elias asked.

“Trial and error,” you said. “And as for the netting, I think I can fix that.” You pulled your Swiss army knife out of your pocket, wiggling it at him. “It’s the way my dad always taught me. You find one that looks good, give it a good rip and make sure it’s the right shape and that there’s not a crazy amount of space between the branches.”

“Because we wouldn’t want that.”

“You’re learning!” You said, laughing. “No, we wouldn’t. Because even if you’ve got a lot of ornaments, it can still look weird and throw off the whole vibe you’re going for.”

Elias ran his hands against the branches of one of the trees. “I don’t have that many ornaments. Some, yeah, but not a lot.”

“Don’t worry,” you said, squeezing his hand. “Lord knows I’ve got enough, we can stop by my place on our way back and grab what I’ve got left over.” 

He dipped his head in agreement. “Sounds good.”

---

Three hours later and you were standing on a chair in Elias’ living room, tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration as you tried to fix the star to the top of the tree. Elias’ hands were wrapped gently around your waist, looking nervously up at you. “You sure you don’t want me to get it?” he asked. 

You shook your head, pumping your fist when you finally got it balanced on top, hopping down to the floor. “I’m good!” Elias had a few ornaments from team parties and events — nearly all of them branded with some form of the Canucks logo — and a handful from back home, the same popsicle stick, glue, and tempera paint creations that dotted your own preschool memories. You had picked up lights from your apartment, plugged them into the wall, figured out half of the bulbs were dead, fixed them, and then finally draped them across the tree branches, hanging a box of your own ornaments alongside your boyfriend’s. 

Elias slipped one arm around your hips, pulling you into his side as the two of you stood back and admired your handiwork. “I like this,” he murmured. 

“The tree actually did turn out pretty great,” you agreed.

“You sound like you had so little faith in us,” Elias said, a smile on his face. “The tree does look great, but I was thinking about this. Us, being together, decorating a Christmas tree. Starting traditions. It feels right.” 

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder, turning to kiss his neck. “It does.”

The baking

Christmas didn’t stop at a tree for you. Oh no, not even close. Elias’ tree was decorated, his living room and entryway hung with tasteful amounts of tinsel and only slightly cheesy wall hangings — he particularly liked the ‘Eat, Drink, and Be Merry’ — that you had dragged him out to the nearest Canadian Tire for. It was all nice to admire, but for you, the real fun started when you fired up the oven and flipped on the stand mixer. 

Elias had been gone for a few days on a brief road trip through California, and you had gladly taken up that time to stock up on any and all possible ingredients you’d need for your annual Christmas baking haul. Elias had a nicer mixer than you did, and his oven had an extra shelf, so with his blessing you had all but set up shop in his kitchen. A good chunk of your time outside of work had been spent running out to Sobey’s, driving back to Elias’ apartment, realizing you’d forgotten something, and having to do it all over again. 

But you loved it, you really did, even when his counters were covered in bags of flour, tubes of icing, and three types of sugar, and his fridge had somewhere north of five pounds of butter. You heard Elias’ key in the front door; it swung open and you heard the familiar thump of his duffel against the hardwood floor. “I’m hoooome,” he called out.

You let out a quick giggle, walking around the kitchen to greet him in the entryway. “Welcome back, babe. How was the trip?”

He shrugged, raising an eyebrow at the outfit you had on; you had put on your trusted old apron, the floral print slightly faded over the years and with more than one stubborn vanilla stain that just didn’t want to come out, but you loved it all the same. “I mean, you saw it. Two wins, one loss. Could have done better, I really don’t think we should have dropped that game against the Kings, but it happens. You started yet?”

“Just about to,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I’d love an assistant if you’ve got the time.”

“For you?” Elias said, kissing the top of your head, “Always.”

Elias creamed the butters and sugar while you sifted the flour, turning around to grab the eggs. You handed two to him. “This seems like a lot of sugar,” Elias noted, peering into the mixing bowl. 

You shrugged. “It’s a double recipe. There’s got to be enough for us, plus the team — I’ll cry if they don’t eat them, so I’m not against you threatening bodily harm if that’s what it comes to — plus some extra for me to take into work this week. So,” you picked up the bottle of vanilla extract, “lots of cookies.” 

It wasn’t just cookies, though; you made somewhere north of 60 sugar cookies, but Elias was once again dumbfounded as you heaved a cardboard box out of one of the many bags you had picked up earlier in the week. “What’s that one?” You spun the box around so he could read the label. “Gingerbread house? Isn’t that mostly for little kids?”

You gasped in mock offense. “I can’t believe you would dare say such a thing, Elias. But yes, typically it is a kid thing. I love it, though. I’ve done one every year ever since I can remember, and they’re so much fun. Genuinely.” You tried, for one year and one year only, to make your own gingerbread; but, as much as you genuinely loved baking, it turned out to be nothing short of a spectacular mess. It wasn’t the Great British Bake Off, as you kept trying to remind yourself when the gingerbread puffed up too much and got too soft while simultaneously burning on the edges, but you had nonetheless been a little deflated as you ran to the grocery store to get a box kit. You tried to look on the bright side, though. One less thing to go wrong in the litany of the day’s bad possibilities. So, you no longer felt guilty about going out to the shop to get a build-your-own box. And besides, putting the house together and decorating it truly was 90% of the fun of the whole thing. 

Elias held his hands up in surrender. “Didn’t mean to make you upset,” he said with a smile. “I do what the chef tells me.” 

You pushed his hair back with one hand, the other handing him a tube of royal icing. “You, my love, have the honor of making sure this house doesn’t fall down.”

“I think I can do that,” he replied easily.

You really should have had more faith in your boyfriend, you thought as you looked at the completed gingerbread house. He had put just the right amount of icing on; not so little that the walls would simply fall down, but not so much that it would take forever to dry and still be too precarious to decorate. And decorate you did, mini M&Ms lining the roof to double as Christmas lights, a tree piped next to the front door, frosting and shredded coconut snow on the roof and floor. You stepped back to look at the finished product, curling into Elias’ side as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “We did pretty good, didn’t we?” you asked. 

“We did.”

The morning

There were many reasons you were grateful that the NHL didn’t operate like other major league sports, with games on Christmas day. It gave a much-needed break after the incredibly fast-paced nature of the first few months of the season. It also gave some time to gain a sense of normalcy for the players and their families; as normal as it could be, you supposed. They could do the same last-minute shopping as other families did, set out milk and cookies with their kids on Christmas Eve. They could attend a service on Christmas Day, invite family over to spend the holiday — as Elias had done the year prior, with his parents flying in from Sweden — or sleep in the morning of. The latter of which you and Elias chose, his bare chest pressed up against your back as you lay in his bed, a well-worn Tre Kronor jersey draped across your body. You twisted over to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Guess what today is?” you asked cheekily. You knew he knew, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t spent the entire month counting down the days and making damn sure he was as informed as you were. 

Elias let out a light laugh. “Merry Christmas, baby.” He threw back the sheets. “I’m going to go and get the coffee started, take your time.” 

It was Christmas, though, and you were you. You weren’t about to take your time when it was December 25th. You made the bed somewhat haphazardly, padding out to the kitchen to wrap your arms around Elias’ waist as he set the coffee maker to brew. It didn’t take long, and you had just enough time to turn on the Christmas music and carefully curate the morning’s playlist before he was walking out to the living room, holding two steaming mugs of coffee. “Thanks, ‘Lias,” you said, taking your cup as the two of you sat on the floor with your stockings. “Dig in,” you said, gesturing to his while blowing on your coffee to cool it down. “No use waiting.” 

He shook his head at you, the edges of his mouth curled in a smile that let you know that no matter how much good-natured ribbing he gave you about your love for the morning and, honestly, for all things Christmas and wintery, he loved that you had let him into a part of your life that you were so excited to share. You had taken a trip to the Swedish candy shop that Elias loved so much, the place was a little out of the way but you’d do anything to give the man you loved a little taste of home for the holidays. Elias laughed when he turned his stocking upside town and tipped it out, the sweets mixed in with some new stick tape and wax he had been mentioning he was running low on. “The team’s got some spare stuff, but I like it a certain way,” he had said earlier in the month, and with a little digging and a call to Brock, you had figured exactly which hole-in-the-wall hockey supply store to drive out to for his favorite kind, the only brand that would do for Elias Pettersson. 

He had filled your stocking with your favorite kind of candy and a few boxes of film for your Polaroid. You laughed when a box of chapstick fell on top of the candy. “You’re always losing them,” Elias said, a poorly concealed grin on his face, “or leaving them somewhere, so I figured more couldn’t hurt.”

You could barely stop laughing. “It’s perfect,” you said in between giggles. “Seriously, though. I can never have too many, and it’s sweet that you noticed that.”

Like any kid, you had always loved getting to open presents on Christmas, and as you had gotten older, you’d learned to enjoy the experience of shopping for other people. But you and Elias had agreed that you didn’t want to make Christmas an incredibly elaborate or expensive affair; the more you had to buy, the more you had to stress over what to choose, the less you would enjoy the holiday itself. So Elias gifted you a book you’d been eyeing, then you gave him a leatherbound journal and a pen. You unwrapped some nice lotion and candles, handing him a navy blue wool scarf. Elias had recently gotten into puzzles — you’re not sure who introduced him, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was Brock — so you got him a 1000 piece puzzle of the snow capped mountains of Banff. “Figured it’d keep you busy for a while,” you said. He squeezed your hand in appreciation. You opened up your last present, sliding out a pair of tickets from an envelope. Two concert tickets to someone you’d been dying to see for years, but you’d never been able to snatch up in time. “How’d you pull this one off?” you asked, delicately holding the tickets in your hand, the envelope they came in long forgotten on the floor. 

“I tried to get them online when they went on sale last month like everyone else, I stayed on my laptop for something like an hour but nothing showed up. So then it was plan B. I called someone who called someone who knows someone at Rogers, told them the situation and that I wanted to surprise my girlfriend, and they made it work. I try not to name drop too often, but if it’s for you, I’ll do it,” he explained. 

You leaned over and kissed him, your hand resting against his jaw. “Thank you, babe. You really didn’t have to, but...It’s going to be amazing. We’re going to have so much fun.”

“You better,” he replied, reaching around the tree to pull out a tiny box from between the branches, one so small you wouldn’t have noticed it if you didn’t know there was something to be looking for. Your heart nearly stopped, and you looked up towards Elias with an expression that was equal parts overwhelmed, panicked, and nervous. “I’m not proposing,” he said quickly. “It’s not a ring.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Oh my God, good.” Now it was your turn to backtrack. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you were proposing, we know we both want that in the future, but it would have caught me a little off-guard.” 

Elias nodded. “And I get that. I definitely don’t want to be giving you a heart attack when I’m trying to ask you to marry me.” 

“That wouldn’t be good.”

“It wouldn’t. I’d definitely rather have an alive fiancée than a dead one. But,” Elias said, turning over the box in his hands, “I’ve thought a lot about this too, and I’m as sure of this decision as I am that I’m going to propose to you one day.” He finally handed it over to you, gesturing for you to open it. “It’s been nearly a year and a half since we’ve been together, so I figured it’s about time — past time, really — that we make it official, have you bring over the two pairs of pants or whatever that aren’t already on your side of the drawer, stop having to drive the twenty minutes home at midnight after we fall asleep together during a movie marathon. About time we move in together.”

You let out a soft gasp, holding the silver key delicately in your hands, in between two fingers as if it might shatter into a million pieces if you dared grip it any tighter. “And you’re sure about this, ‘Lias? I’d love to, but only if you’re sure too. I don’t want you to feel backed into a corner about anything just because it’s what everyone else is doing, or seems like the ‘next step’ for us as a couple, or —”

Elias cut you off with a kiss, closing your hand over the key. “I’m positive. And I’m not doing this for anyone else other than us.”

Even though you were sitting on the living room floor, you spoke your next words as if you were breathless. “When can we start?”

“We can start whenever you want, baby. The sooner the better,” he answered.

Your eyes met his. “One more question,” you asked. He nodded. “Did I do it? Did I make you love Christmas?”

“Mission accomplished, baby.”

[hoyaanae]

My thoughts and all the things I love about Lovely Us (2020)

This drama really surprised me with how good it was written and made despite already knowing that this is highly rated by my cdrama mutuals. First ep right off the bat made me laugh and cry. The following eps kept the flow really well and established the characters and their relations. Before I know it, I'm already in love and attached to the characters and everything about this drama. It's very charming, calming and heartwarming to watch. The acting, writing, execution, ost, and production are well-done.

Set in 2007, this is another drama with nostalgic vibe that will remind you of your childhood and probably teenage years as well of your old neighborhood and the people you used to hang out with when you're younger. Even though I'm kinda fed up with childhood friends to lovers trope by now, this one did it the right way. Romance is slowburn but the buildup isn't slow at all. The main cp are so cute despite the daily bickerings that you just can't help but root for them to be together. It also have unrequited love trope where you'll see the character continuously root for that person and not expecting anything in return. There's no antagonist/evil characters in this story, just your feel-good slice-of-life drama with a touch of teenage romance in it.

Another strong point this drama have is the friendship and family dynamics. The five main leads have such amazing and solid friendship and their chemistry with each other is very natural to watch you'll wish you have the kind of friendship they have. It's endearing how their respective families are friends with one another and the parents have absolute trust with their children even allowing them to stay in closed room, have overnight at their house without adult supervision and even go to outdoor camping sharing one tent. It's refreshing to see how they showcased different parenting styles in each household and the parents aren't portrayed as someone controlling, instead they understand and communicate with their children. There's even one case wherein a parent realized he's doing it wrong so he asked for advice and help from his son's friend in order to get closer with his son.

Unlike other dramas, this one never drags out misunderstandings and touches the issue in the most heartwarming way that it never felt annoying or frustrating to watch, instead I became emotional at those moments that I can't help but shed a tear or ugly cry.

The characters are funny, full of mischief but sweet and thoughtful on the inside. It's a delight to watch them get together and have their little meetings, bicker and help each other out.

The ost will surely stay on repeat in my playlist for the next few days or weeks even. The song choices fit the mood so well and I find myself heavily lss-ed with the opening song. The song "Can I See You Tomorrow?" gives off the ultimate nostalgic vibe and reminds me of one ISWAK ost.

What really stood out to me the most are the moments in each ep wherein a certain character will narrate his/her thoughts about love, life, and family. They're beautifully and oftentimes poetically written matching with flashback scenes that made the dialogue even more heartfelt.

Here are some of the lines that are deeply engraved in my heart because they are beautifully written and will really go well as book passages:

"Once people become parents, their memory begins to become biased. They always remember they are their children's most reliable parents, but often forget that they are also children loved by their own parents. When they are waiting for their children to come back home, they forget that their own parents are also waiting for their return in a similar mood."

"The audio frequency of the sound when a snowflake falls on the water surface is over 50,000 Hz. Because it falls beyond human being's hearing range, this snowy day is still so quiet that it seems I can only hear my own heartbeat and that it seems there is only me and the person in front of me on this planet with a population of 6.6 Billion. I hope this world can be noiser so that I can pretend that I've never discovered this secret."

"They think that the probability is just 0.01, so they put on the emperor's new clothes, trying to hide their affections with magic. But affections are not that easy to hide. Even if the probability is pretty low, it will be revealed at a certain moment. So on that rainy night, while looking at her back, he found that the most obvious evidence of falling in love with her was the feeling of easement in his heart and the smile on his face when he looked at her."

"You think nothing will change as time flies by. But this time, the moment you let go and turn around, some things completely changed. The sun went down and before it rises again, some people will leave you forever. We always thought that there would be a big ceremony to say goodbye, so we keep waiting for a warm hug, a refreshing drink, and a heartfelt goodbye, but in the end, we realized that most goodbyes in our lives are all silent."

"At that silent corner in my mind, there are a number of weird illusions. For example, can I become Alice who enters the wonderland with White Rabbit? For example, can I become the little girl who enters the forest with Totoro? For example, is there some special switch in this box which can teleport me? No, none of them exist. There's no flying dragons or knights, and I'm not the heroine of some comics for girls, either. However, the only thing I'm sure about is that this escape greatly shocks my world. My palms would sweat, and my sight would be indistinct. Then my view becomes narrower and narrower until there's room for only one person in my eyes. After a long time, I know such a moment is named adventure, in which the one in your eyes is irreplaceable."

"The familiar chirping of cicadas on summer nights, the familiar bear doll who must lean by the lamb, the familiar lovely girl who frowns even when she sleeps, and the 17-yr-old time wrapped by the sense of familiarity never seem to have changed. The only difference is that when I look at the familiar him, I feel a flurry and uneasiness that I have never expected."

"There are many new days like today. Today, he holds my hand. Today, he holds me in his arms. Today, he carries me on his back and runs in the street in the early morning. Many days with him like today will eventually become my unforgettable past days. I'll remember days like today for a long time."

"Friendship means so much to us. It brings us close, and makes me flinch, so sometimes we just tell ourselves that as long as we're together, I can be just a friend of hers. But the taxi that I failed to catch, the phone calls that have been hung up, the time that's flying and my restless heart are telling me eagerly that in this world, both love and friendship are important. Every detail related to you is reminding me that we can't be just friends. So when it's still not too late, I have to tell you the things that I want to tell you as soon as possible. Huang Chengzi, I like you."

"In this world, it seems like all wishes have a guardian. Wishing wells, shooting stars, the aquarium's white whale. They're all hiding in the corners of the universe caressing the sorrow of loving someone alone. It's just that the god of happiness can't bless everyone out there. They let some people be happy and their wishes come true, and let some be sad, but they can't admit how sad they really are. The feeling of being in love is like a butterfly gently flapping its wings, that stirs up a hurricane in people's hearts. The second you realize it, then there's no escape."

[indigosprite]

In another ask, you shared your thoughts on why you didn’t like 6996 etc. do you think 2795 share the same problem? I think while Tsuna and Kyoko doesn’t seem as weird as 6996 on the surface upon further speculation and reading works where Kyoko becomes this bamf vongola tenth wife who does anything for Tsuna, it sort of treads the same vibe as Chrome and Mukuro in some way. Idk I just want to hear your thoughts on maybe 2795 and maybe 2786 as well.

Hi hi

Had to search these because I literally did not have any ships for this show until I rewatched it and just merged my favorite characters into one pair that happened to be a ship. I  forget the others exist...With that being said, take this with a grain of salt because I honestly don’t even think about these ships a lot, forget they even exist. How KHR was written will always make the the very idea of Tsuna with any of the female characters feel weird or odd unless you’ve managed to read or create enough Fanon that changes your characterization of the original dynamic. I don’t think they share the same problem but maybe a similar one ? Tsuna and any female character compared to Mukuro and Chrome is very different in my opinion. (funnily enough it’s also because Mukuro isn’t a misogynist shsjsjsj) 6996 could work, they actually have a relationship that’s very personal to both parties and unlike 2795 they’re both aware of it and have a distinct unique connection with each other that consists of shared interests trust and mutual respect. it’s just odd to think about because chrome looks up to Mukuro and the power imbalance feels weird, he’s literally keeping her alive. (Which I know is disgustingly sweet I find it very heartwarming. )

2795 is this one sided crush with zero redeeming qualities. There was nothing remotely romantic or intriguing happening between Tsuna and Kyoko the entire series. If we took out Tsuna’s inner thoughts we honestly would’ve thought she was just this nice girl he knows from school. If we took out Tsuna’s thoughts in general and left it up to the fandom pulling this ship out of their butts it would honestly be 1000% cuter. All their interactions read like

“this girl is so lovely I really like her and she’s talking to me that’s amazing”

“Thanks for the pencil. Do your best on the test okay?”

I’m not swooning over the most lackluster interactions on the planet because he is over romanticizing it. Even the reason why he likes her is not that interesting or convincing. Which I mean I get it he’s only 14 he’s not thinking about all the small stuff like emotional support or validation or like not wanting to be alone etc. It’s still just you’re pretty let’s be happy all the time while you hold my hand forever. He deserves that he’s literally a kid. but even when i was younger i didn’t see it between them ever. On top of their interactions being boring they never give us things that make you go “oh wait she might actually like him hmmm” . they could have tried a little harder to make it a little more romantic? sometimes they show us Kyoko in a pink background hands clasped surrounded by hearts and I forget she’s supposed to be viewed in that light. I forget we’re supposed to actually consider her liking him too but what are we supposed to think Kyoko is looking for in a guy that makes Tsuna a possibility when she doesn't exist past eating cake and worrying about her brother and Tsuna. I think it’s also fair to note that they never imply that Tsuna actually thinks about her beyond his image of her but we see how caring he is with his friends to the point where he can point out their flaws and work through them anyways and accept them. Tsuna realizing Yamamoto was not himself during the Guardians trial is a perfect example of this, it establishes the relationship they built with one another. another example is Tsuna acknowledging that Gokudera is overwhelming and short tempered but he wouldn’t trade the guy for anyone because he is loyal and a good friend.  he cares for Kyoko as a person in general but he never reaches that depth when it comes to her. he doesn’t have to either because it’s just a crush, how you manage to take that through the next ten years of his life I honestly don’t know. 

TL;DR : My ONLY problem with 2795 is the fact that there is nothing to work off of but the implication that Tsuna likes this girl and that’s why they are endgame. she matters very little, just a figurehead of his normalcy. she’s written just as badly in fics, can I blame you? no you were probably like 14 writing them. do a lot of people still do this ? yeah so i’m just not interested until the fanon has changed her character for everyone. 

I know I sound super hypocritical because “Sprite what the fuck does 6918 have that’s soooo intriguing they actually canonically hate each other how is that any better.” the answer: Mukuro and Hibari have a more established relationship with mutual feelings than those two, even better they’re actually really strong feelings (of pure hatred). Bonus, despite being aloof both characters also have fully developed personalities and Opinions/Behaviors that we can mold however we please. they actually have a relationship to play around with that's what makes it fun and lets you have those “actually they’re pretty similar in this aspect” because you know shit about both of them individually. 

Now for 2786,,, as i sit here and think about it Haru and Tsuna make so much more sense for all the reasons him and kyoko don’t . 

Kyoko and Haru were already made solely to be Tsuna’s love interests (specifically Kyoko) , but then it went on to be something they didn’t even bother hiding when they reduced their characters and their interests to looking after kids and repeatedly worrying over Tsuna. The reason I don’t find it appealing is because there really wasn’t any dynamic there at all. This boy liked this girl and that’s literally all it was. She has no depth , and despite being written for him nothing about Kyoko screams you’re perfect for this kid. Nothing says, You’re compatible, You have common interests, you two can rely on each other. She was pretty and nice and polite and that’s all they shared along with half the cast. With Haru they went the completely opposite direction, this girl likes him and is upfront about it. she's not a better candidate just because she's not the typical pretty girl whos quiet and polite and caring,(She’s not the better written female character either, this is reborn. they all lose here.) she’s the better candidate because we actually have a personality to compare to Tuna's. she was purposely given this big personality because he was never going to be in love with her because she’s like all the other intruding figures of his life. Again we have this one sided crush, know he doesn’t like her at all but you can actually see where they do go right and wrong. she’s a complete person. 

Haru can handle a little wild in her life, she was the first one to know he would be a mafia boss and it didn’t phase her at all. Tsuna might need that later in life.

In the future when Tsuna finds her crying she tells him not to think her feelings have anything to do with him, completely different dynamic from kyoko whos emotions are always directly related to male characters and what they are doing. 

Haru and her cosplays are so perfectly absurd and she does not care how weird he finds them, she has this big embarrassing trait to her that Tsuna comically responds to but just grows to overlook and accept.  

she actually talks to Tsuna quite a lot and helps him out whenever she can, because he doesn't like her she's allowed to actually exist in his world and he sees her fully because of it. It makes sense to see his significant other who will be involved in the mafia as an asset who he wants to protect and not just...something he needs to protect bc they honestly don't want this.

she interviews the entire cast of the show because haru just fits there, in a yamamoto like way, she can just handle it. 

Tsuna and Haru could have been perfect friends or a couple. they had the grounds for it. it’s just not what he wanted but I can totally see them working out for each other later in life. they make so much sense! i’ll have to think about them more sometime soon. 

Hope I answered you questions, this got long.

[shoutocakie]

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work and i follow both Teenage Love and Calm before the Storm. Both stories are actually outside what i usually read but I am greatly satisfied that I started to read them because both stories are amazing in that it both tackles issues that are more or less taboo in society. For teenage love, i wouldn’t say its romanticized because they clearly know the repercussions of their relationship and forgive me but i love how scandalous and fun and pure their feelings are for each other. Whereas for Calm Before the Storm, its focuses on the relationship of mental health and the relationships we form outside ourselves - i get why one comment mentioned about it being reminiscent of Murakami, i think its the raw sadness in both murakami and your story that points to the similarities. Moreover, i love your charaterization of Shouto, its a perfect balance of what the fandom has conceptualized - there is the smart, strong yet ever oblivious and socially awkward Shouto and on one side there is the calm, broody, but also teasing and playful Shouto- and you add on something more to his character that makes it your own. I wish i can tell you exactly what that “something” is but its more of a feeling like when i read work i know its yours because your Shouto has your own vibe in it. And it just makes him more alive? If there ever will be a time where you might take requests, i hope to know more about your Shouto Headcanons. Thank you so much for all the goodness you bring!

T____T Thank you Anon! Now I know why other artists add those crazy gifs to show their indescribable feelings when they get beautiful comments!!! Literally, I printed this and put it in my journal because I'm so touched and I want to remember ten years from now that this is what I was doing and someone else was enjoying the experience with me! I'm really glad to hear that Teenage Love doesn't come off as creepy(?) because when the idea first crossed my mind it made me realllllly uncomfortable until I put myself in that position and was like "...oh, nevermind. He's just a sweetheart and age gaps are social constructs... huh....." And omg there's nothing to forgive! I wrote it a little scandalous to MAKE it fun. I hope their affection for each other balances it all out though~~~ >__< God he's so cute I just can't even anymore... I also really hope I can bring some balance in the later chapters of Calm Before the Storm between the pain and the healing. I think the hardest part of writing that story has been that I'm writing a lot of it from experience, and knowing that trauma begets trauma and how over time it compiles to break you down just makes me feel really worried for Shou... Like I know we don't have canon of him as an adult, and I know he's trying to recover and things are looking better, but all it takes is the perfect storm of bad conditions to throw someone with a history back into the abyss... ALSO OMG THANK YOU KYAAAAAA HE'S SUCH A COMPLEX CHARACTER AND I'M SO HAPPY TO HEAR A READER THINKS I'M DOING HIM JUSTICE T_____T "you add on something more to his character that makes it your own. I wish i can tell you exactly what that “something” is but its more of a feeling like when i read work i know its yours because your Shouto has your own vibe in it. And it just makes him more alive?" I don't think there could ever be a more heartwarming, deeply gratifying comment than this T_______________________________T Thank you so much <3 Maybe one day I'll manage head canons hehe. Currently I have like 7 fics of him on the go, each focusing on a different side of his personality, so pinning headcanons down sounds harder than writing all those fics combined!!! heheheheh Thanks again!! You really made my whole week brighter! (And I've really been struggling lately, so you can't imagine the courage it's giving me!)

[breakyeol]

just a little taste

┗ pairing: Kyungsoo x reader

warnings: smut, good ole fashion pussy eatin’

a/n; I have a kink for Do Kyungsoo’s lips

“Are you sure?”

It took a lot more willpower than it probably should have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. But it was only the hundredth time he’d asked in the last five minutes. You never thought you’d see the day where Do Kyungsoo was talking too much.

“I’m sure, Soo.” You repeated once more, peering down at him with as much sincerity as you could muster to show him that you really meant it.

But for whatever reason, he still didn’t seem completely convinced. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel pressured.” His concern for your wellbeing was endearing, really. It was heartwarming to know he cared so much about your level of comfort in such a situation. However— it was getting just the slightest bit frustrating. Besides, you were the one that suggested it in the first place.

“Kyungsoo. I’m one hundred percent sure that I want to do this. You’re my best friend. I trust you more than I trust anybody else in the world. I want this.” You reached down and grabbed one of his hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It was quite funny if you think about it; you were reassuring him. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?

“Okay but–”

“Shit, Soo! Just shut up and eat me out already!”

Those were probably the last words you’d expected to be saying to your best friend of seven years.

If a few weeks ago, someone had told you that you’d be laid out on your best friend’s bed in nothing more than an extra large t–shirt and a pair of black panties, with him laid snuggly between your thighs— you would have laughed in their faces. Because like hell you’d ever be getting Do Kyungsoo, your quiet, hard on the outside, soft on the inside best friend, between your legs.

Not because you didn’t want to, god knows how many times you’d fantasized about what those thick, soft lips could do to you. You’d just never imagined that he could possibly feel the same way.

So when you’d been chilling at his place, just talking and vibing with one another, and somehow the conversation had taken a turn towards a more… intimate topic— you’d been a little more than just surprised.

It was the first time you’d had a conversation like that with him. But it wasn’t weird or uncomfortable like you thought it might have been. It was somehow easy to talk to him about, so easy that you slipped up about the fact that you hated getting gone down on. That little tidbit was utterly flabbergasting for him to hear. But he understood once you’d explained.

Every experience you’d had with guys eating you out ended up being uncomfortable, weird, and, once, even painful. The guys you’d been with just didn’t know how to do it properly. Too much teeth, too rushed, too rough, with no idea where to focus. It was frustrating, because you’d been told by a few of your friends just how good it could feel— if it was done properly. But it seemed you were shit out of luck with the guys you were meeting.

Until, Kyungsoo offered a proposition that was just about impossible for you to decline.

“You know… if— if you wanted… I could… you know…”

Okay, so it wasn’t the smoothest offer in the world, but shit, if your heart didn’t swell at the soft pink that tinged the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks, his dark doe eyes fluttering shyly away from your face.

“Really?”

The shock in your voice had him shifting nervously, nodding bashfully. “If you’d like me to. I have some experience,” he offered you a light smile in hopes of fending off any awkwardness, “And I’ve never got a bad review.”

You barked out a laugh of disbelief. “Well, shit. Then why don’t you show me what you’ve got.”

And that’s precisely how you ended up in his bed, his face so dangerously close to your most sensitive place that you could feel the heat of his breath washing over you with every soft exhale. But he just kept talking. Ha. You never thought you’d see the day.

It wasn’t because he was nervous. You knew when Kyungsoo was nervous. He wasn’t nervous, he just wanted to be completely sure that you were comfortable with him crossing this boundary with you. And you appreciated it, seriously, you did. But you were a grown ass woman. There was no alcohol or decision impairing substances in your body. You knew what you wanted. And right now, it was those gorgeous lips right on your—

“As you wish.”

You found yourself taken off guard as he suddenly dipped his head down, mouth just barely caressing over your clothed core. A chill shot down your spine.

“Woah.” The breathless sound was met with a low chuckle, and you nearly trembled at the feeling of his hot breath on your rapidly dampening center.

“I haven’t even done anything yet. You’re so sensitive.” That playful comment had your lips turning downwards in a light pout.

“Don’t tease me.”

His grin widened and he shifted forward on the bed, his mouth hovering directly over you. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be nice.”

You could tell he was teasing you, but just as you opened your mouth to snap back a smart reply, he flattened his tongue. Your jaw went slack, head thrusting back into the pillows beneath your head as a moan, so rough and guttural that it made your throat feel raw, spilled from your lips.

“Fuck, Soo. Your mouth—”

He chuckled at your hoarse exclamation, the vibration having your body writhing and sending waves of chills shooting up and down your spine, skin prickling with goosebumps. “It’s good, isn’t it?” He spoke, voice an octave deeper than usual, an air of taunting cockiness lacing his words. But you were in no position to deny it.

“So fucking good,” you groaned, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as his tongue circled your entrance.

He smirked, sucking briefly at your clit, “I can give you even better.”

He wasn’t lying.

It took all of two minutes for his skilled mouth to be giving you the best you’ve ever fucking had.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted breathlessly, voice ragged and broken as he fucked you with his tongue, thumb working your bud in quick, yet gentle circles. Your fingers had knotted themselves in his thick black hair at one point, fist clenching and fingers tugging very time he did something that sent a particularly powerful shock of ecstasy shooting through you.

You don’t know what exactly you had expected— but consider any expectation beyond exceeded.

“Soo, I think—” your words were cut off sharply by the mind numbing pleasure of release, eyes fluttering as your hips rolled against his face, thighs trembling under the tight hold of his strong hands. His tongue didn’t let up on its fervent motions until you were whimpering and writhing from the oversensitivity.

You had to swallow a moan as he drew away, lips and chin glistening with your arousal, gaze so intense and heated that your skin prickled beneath it. His tongue slid over his lips, a soft, deep groan making you shiver.

“Fuck, Soo. I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever come,” you muttered, words airy and hoarse. He chuckled, pressing soothing kisses to the insides of your thighs.

“So, did I change your mind?” He questioned, laughing as you scoffed at him in disbelief, looking down at him with a hazy smirk and hooded eyes.

“Do you even have to ask?”

If his mouth could work those kinds of wonders on you, you couldn’t help but to wonder what the rest of that dangerously deceiving body could do.

[namfine]

◕ | 𝕬𝖈𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖆 : 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕩 | ◕

 Sloth is a state of dejection that leads to spiritual apathy. 

                                        - - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

Δ pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Δ word count: 6.5k

Δ  summary:  His company is magmatic, languid and persistent. He is a viscous fire that keeps you on your toes, suspended over the edge. Its static, bubbling up slowly and encompassing all the memories that now felt so far away. Will you stay where its warm and the pleasures are many, or will you cross the threshold he’ll tell you isn’t there?

Δ Tags: 18+, Yoongi x reader, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex, bathtub sex, fingering(f receiving), daemon au, mind fuck, angst? kinda? -ish, mad quarantine vibes.

Δ part: 4 of 7 of our Seven Deadly Sins Milestone Challenge.

⋫ Link to Master List here

Δ  a/n: Hey guys! welcome to chapter  4 of our Seven Deadly Sins series! I hope yall are prepared cuz this one gets.. surreal. Only 3 more sins to go, stay tuned because it only goes deeper from here ;P

-umami~ 

You loved your apartment you had together, you really did. It was cute and cozy, decorated in cool sky blues and pretty white accents. Your couch was lush and cushioned, as well as your bed and all your little bar stools that lined your kitchen nook. Four stools -because there was a time where you were expecting guests. 

But that didn’t matter anymore, you weren’t concerned with other people anyway. You could barely remember a time when you could connect with anyone outside of Yoongi. The memories you did have were hazy and dark, you had a feeling that they weren’t things you needed to shine a light on. They seemed so out of place with how things felt now.  

Similarly, there was one thing in your shared apartment that felt out of place. It was something of Yoongi’s from his past. He insisted on keeping it out in the open, right on the coffee table so it’s allure could distract you from your shows. It was an old hourglass. The glass was cloudy, and oxidized copper turned the spokes a textured sea green. It was large, and full of black sand that he told you was volcanic. The strangest part about it was that it was so old that it didn’t work anymore. He told you the sand must have sat too long and hardened. That didn’t sound possible to you, but you couldn’t argue with the results. It stood smack dab in the center of your white coffee table, the portions of black sand evenly distributed inside of each glass bubble. You knew it was important to him, some huge part of his history that he wouldn’t elaborate on. But most days to you -it was just an eye sore. 

Some nights when it was really quiet, you swore you could hear it humming before a single drop of sand would fall. 

It was rare that anything new would happen in your shared apartment, most days kept the same mindless routine. But tonight you felt particularly hungry for something different. You were out of ideas and inspiration; as usual, but you had a few tricks in finding it again. On nights like these you liked to hang over your balcony ledge and wait for something to strike you. 

You watched the city lights and the busy cars rushing by. They looked like little toy cars in the distance, all lit up and full of so much urgency that they made your head spin. You figured your own car must have collected dust by now. Maybe the gas had expired and corroded some tricky little fuel lines, or maybe it had been so long that your seat cushions were sprouting daisies. You wished you could check, but the notion was silly. Yoongi would say something like “Why check on something you never need to use?” Or “We can’t go look even if we wanted to, you know that.” And he would be right. Ever since the front door disappeared there was no way to leave.. -Not that you even wanted to, you had everything you needed here in your cozy sky blue apartment. A fridge that stocked itself, a warm bed, hot water, and your carefree boyfriend to spend all this time with. It was surreal that this was how your life had been for as long as you could grasp, or maybe it was surreal that there was ever a time before this. 

 But something about the noise from up there was mesmerizing to you. It made you feel less… trapped. 

You felt trapped; somewhere deep down, but you also had this overwhelming feeling of never wanting to leave. Of just wanting to live out the rest of your days in Yoongi’s arms, all cooped up in your cozy little apartment that had two too many stools and a broken hourglass.

 Thinking about it, you remembered that the clock’s never worked right either. You had one that sat above the stove in your kitchen; nothing special, but it was big enough that you could see it from most places in the open apartment. Sometimes you would sit and count the seconds as you watched them tick; because you had more than enough time to be counting seconds, but they never ticked on time. Sometimes they were four seconds off, sometimes seven, other times they ticked backwards or sometimes not at all. You just wanted one clock that could work properly, but Yoongi always said they were useless when you had no schedules to stick to. He was right, but you still wanted a way to keep track of the days, the months, the years. You had no idea how long it had been. It was long enough that anything that happened before felt detached, but not long enough for you to have aged. Or to have gone mad..

You sighed as you watched the little people off in the distance and how they lived their lives so far away from you. You wondered how exciting their lives were out there, and what kinds of places that must be traveling to. Shopping malls, and coffee shops, office buildings and movie theaters. Those things all felt almost imaginary to you know.  

You started to hear a rustling behind you. You smiled to yourself, you were wondering where he had been. There were only three rooms in your world after all, it was hard not to always bump into each other. 

He walked up behind you like he often had on nights likes these, and he wrapped his warm arms around you. You relaxed into his embrace, any tenseness and worries you were feeling before melting away like butter in his arms. He kept you close to his chest, his lips starting to leave light kisses and goosebumps along the gentle curve of  your neck. 

You felt enveloped by him, his scent of lavender and cedarwood filling the air around you. You pressed yourself back further into him, pushing yourself off of the ledge. He grasped his hands around your hips, leaning up to kiss at the spot behind your ear. 

"Do you want to go back inside?" He questioned, and you turned to nuzzle your nose into his neck. You hummed there, thinking about it a little longer. You hadn’t been struck with your new idea yet..

“Hmm.. Not yet.” You focused on the way his chest rose and fell behind you. Slow and gradual, and you could feel his steady pulse against your lips.  

“Do you want me to stay? Or am I distracting.” He pulled you in a little tighter when he said that, and he caught the lob of your ear lightly between his teeth before he pulled. You hummed again, very much enjoying the feeling of having him wrapped around you like this. His lips turning soft against your skin. You pressed your hips back into him; just to check something. You chuckled before you replied.

“You are distracting -But I don’t want you to leave. Maybe you can help me?” He was no fool to what you were doing, or to the light playfulness in your voice. He gripped his hands around your hips and pulled your closer, digging his own hips into your back side. 

“Help with what? Baby.” His voice was gruff against your ear now, it made you shiver in his clutches. You hummed once more, fighting to keep your mind on track and to not think about how nice his member felt stiffening against your ass. 

“I’m not sure what we should eat tonight.”

“I can think of a few things.”  You giggled at the suggestiveness in his voice, turning around to peck him on the cheek and to scurry your way back inside. The surprised look in his eyes was heartwarming, there was just that little twinge of disappointment that you’d gotten away from him so soon. He shook his head a little, moving his soft black hair out of his eyes. 

“I’m serious! I’m tired of eating the same old things, I wanna try something new!” You skipped up into your kitchen as you yelled back to him, knowing full well that he would follow you. 

“Like what?” He asked, stopping half way into the living room, between the couch, and the hourglass. 

“I’m not sure.. That's what I need your help for.” You gleamed, stepping across the tiles to spin your stools out of restlessness. 

“Well.. Lets see.” He thought aloud as he sat himself down, staring into the murky glass as he searched for an idea. “What do we have to work with?”

“It seems like I eventually find everything I ever need.. So.. I guess the options are endless!” You chimed, moving to rummage through your cabinets. 

“I’m not sure if I remember any dishes you don’t already make..” You frowned at that. That's what you were afraid of, it was an excuse he had for a lot of things. But you understood because you were beginning to feel the same way.

“Really?? Didn’t you use to travel a lot? You must know so many more things I could try than I do." He scrunched his brows, his eyes falling back on that old hourglass again.

“Yeah but.. That was a long time ago, I don’t remember." He paused, turning back to you with a sparkle in his eyes. "Why don’t you make that fancy pasta of yours and we’ll add something new?” you lent him a weak smile, not wanting to dampen his excitement even though his idea wasn't exactly what you were looking for.. And you knew where this was going. 

“New like what?” He paused again, his eyes going wide as he tried to recall something from the back of his mind.

“I'm not sure, calamari?” You hummed and nodded at his idea as you watched him slowly racking his brain.

“I’ve done that.” It hurt a little to give him the bad news, but it was true. You'd made pasta with calamari within the last few weeks. 

“What about shrimp?” You nodded along again this time before u sent the blow.

“I’ve done that too.” His eyebrows furrowed, and you knew he was trying so hard to think of something fresh and new. It wasn't his fault he couldn't remember, you knew that. You turned away, walking up to dig through your fridge. Sometimes inspiration came to you in there, especially if you opened and closed it enough times.. 

“Broccoli?” You sighed, spotting the broccoli tucked away in the vegetable crisper just as he said it. “That too..” You were thinking about giving up and just making something you always make when he popped up beside you suddenly and slammed his hands on the counter like he'd just thought of the best thing.

“What about… all together? Have you tried that yet?” You stopped, turning back to him with the chill of the refrigerator still cooling the room.

“I haven't, do you think that would be good?” His smile was warm and confident as he looked at you. It was calming, just as his presence always was. 

“I think anything you ever cook is good baby, but let me know if you want an assistant. You know I’m always here for you.”

~~

The pasta turned out alright, just like he said. It was ready, but he had gone missing again like he sometimes did. It was strangely endearing that he could always find a quiet place to himself in such a small space. You called for him with little luck, so you started to look for him. There were only two other rooms so there weren’t many places for him to be hiding, but somehow he stumped you every time.

You started your way down the narrow hallway, your old hall light flickering above you. You were headed towards your bedroom door on the right when you noticed something strange you didn’t remember being there. Another door? This one on the left side just adjacent to your bedroom. You swore that wasn’t there.. You had no broom closets, and the bathroom’s only entrance was through the bedroom. This was.. New. Even though it looked very old. Cracked and missing paint setting it in high contrast against the rest of your apartment. There was no way it was something you could have just overlooked. It was.. strange, and you felt your heart beginning to race as you came closer to it. Had your memory really gotten so bad that you’d forgotten a whole other room..? You were beginning to not trust yourself.. To not trust your reality. Something had always seemed unusual here but Yoongi could always calm those thoughts away from you.. But Yoongi wasn’t here. 

You pressed your ear to the misplaced door; timidly, seeing if you could hear anything on the other side. Maybe it held a water heater? Or the electrical system? You thought, pulling strings to just make sense of it. You heard a clicking inside, and some very faint humming. Neither of which calmed your nerves.

“Yoongi..!?” You called again, hoping that he could hear you from wherever he was and that he could come calm your racing heart, and maybe inform you on what you had forgotten. 

“I’m in here! -The door is open!” He answered finally, but his answer didn’t help you any. His voice sounded from inside the room and it only made you feel more out of your wits. 

You fought with your anxieties as you slowly placed your hand around the rusty door knob. It was hot to the touch.. You turned it; slowly, peering inside the room to look for traces of him. 

It was dark inside, that hum growing louder now that the door couldn’t keep it contained. Your eyes grew wide as you tried to adjust them to the darkness. 

“Yoongi?..” You could see piles of books littered around the room, and old computer parts. Dusty equipment and piles of old trinkets you could barely identify. Everything seemed to be painted in a thick layer of dust, dirty cobwebs connecting each pile to another. The smell was.. Old, stale. Like the room hadn't seen fresh air in millennia. But despite all you could see in the room, you hadn’t seen him yet. 

“Over here!” You heard him, his warm voice slowing your heart rate; if even just a little, as you darted your eyes along the darkness in search of him. There was something large and black at the end of the room, textured and bumpy. You traced your eyes up from the bottom of it, following along with how the light hit it from behind. On your way up you saw big black feathers, hundreds of them, old but beautiful. And then they moved.. Flexing straight out to the sides like something worrisome preparing for flight. You began to tremble but you couldn’t pull your eyes away, you kept them on their slow path up reaching features that startled you. It’s face.. You knew that face; you loved that face. But it was corrupted here, scaled and frightening with gleaming diamond blue eyes. It smiled at you and you recognized that look and the love in those icy eyes. 

You screamed. You didn’t understand, you couldn’t. You needed things to halt, to stop. You remembered you had seen him like that before.. Maybe often.. Maybe he always looked like that. 

Yoongi. 

You turned away from the room, slamming the door and pressing your back against it. 

You..

What were you doing? 

“Looking for Yoongi.” You thought. You saw your bedroom door in front of you and you walked up and opened it not even questioning why your heart was racing so hard. You flipped the light switch on and peered around in search of him, to no avail. A moment later he startled you, coming up and hugging you from behind.

“Hey, is dinner done already? I could have helped.” You shivered, spinning around with a sudden urge to see his face. His kind brown eyes greeted you, his sweet smile proving contagious. 

“It was just pasta, and it's not like I was making it from scratch.” You hugged him, resting your cheek on his shoulder and feeling your heart calm to its usual speed. 

“Have you tried that yet? Maybe that could be something fun we could try together next time.” You blinked, looking up at him in surprise. 

“..I haven’t. I love that idea though, but I’m not sure I know how-”

“I’m sure I have a cookbook that will tell us somewhere. Wanna try it tomorrow? We could make lasagna.” You giggled, basking in his enthusiasm. 

“It’s a date.” A date, you had forgotten about those until you said it. Was anything in this apartment ever really a date when you could never leave..? You reached something deep in your mind then, the taste of rich aged wine, the taste of cream and sugar, laughter..  Images of unspeakable things. Things that excited you. He noticed the change in your demeanor; you could tell when something moved behind his eyes, but he hid it well. 

“A date. -Hey.. I know you’ve seemed a little restless lately, why don’t we try something different?” You stepped back from him to get a good read on his face, your head tilting to the side.

“What do you mean?” He smirked at you.

“I have an idea, I’ll show you after dinner.” 

~~

He didn’t want you to know what he had planned yet. He kissed you sweetly after dinner, spinning in his stool and scurrying over to your small wine case. He grabbed a bottle; one he had been saving, along with two glasses before he dashed down the hall into your shared bedroom. A quick shout of “Don’t peek till it's ready!! And don’t worry about the dishes!” before he was out of sight. 

You felt a little lost now, impatient with nothing to hold your focus. You spun around to look over at your balcony again, the white curtains fluttering in the wind. It was picking up, the doors starting to flex and sway back and forth. You stared at them a good while before you decided it might be time to shut them for the night. You made it over to close them softly, giving a quiet “goodnight” to the outside world before you shut your curtains. 

He startled you again, this time you didn’t even hear him before his hand was pulling yours to follow him through the apartment and back down the hall. He was in such a hurry and it was unusual for him, but this kind of spontaneity was what you felt like you were missing. He dragged you through the bedroom, a giddiness in his stature. He rounded you past the bed and led you to face the closed door of your bathroom. You giggled.

“What did you do?” 

“Hush, you’ll see. One things first though.” 

“Hmm?” 

He grazed his hands against your waist, pulling your shirt up enough for you to get the hint. You reached to lift the flimsy fabric up and over your head, and he  gently fisted your hair in his hand to help you get it out of the way. He released his fist, letting your hair fall messely over your bare shoulders. You heard him fiddling to throw his own shirt over his head from behind you, he was fast and it was no time before his hands were back around your waist, lowering their way down to your hips where he tucked his thumbs under the waistband. He released a hand from the task, bringing the free one up to rub along your stomach and up over your ribs. He glided it up until the tips of his fingers were teasing under your bra. He leaned down to kiss your neck again like he did before, only this time there was no escaping the heat he made you feel.

 “I think you’ll like the surprise, It’s nothing special but.-”

“-I’m assuming there’s warm water and us both naked involved, I’m pretty sure I’ll love it.” You teased, hastily working to pull the rest of your clothes off faster than he was going. Despite your wiggling to get your pants all the way off of your ankles, he still had his hands all over you. And once you were up right again he was already pulling you back into his bare chest. You wrapped your arms loosely over his shoulder as his hands coyly wandered down to rest on your ass. You smirked at his behavior, pushing away from him to finally work his pants down since he was stalling. He grinned, taken a little off guard, but he complied when you needed him too. 

He kicked them over, finally, and then for the second time that night he did something you weren’t expecting. He spun you around, pressing you tits first against the closed door. You gasped at the sudden cold against your nipples, and then groaned when you felt him grind his hips hard against your ass. He kept a hand on your hip, pulling them back so your ass remained up in the air where he wanted it. You braced your hands on the door, shivering when you felt his nails lightly tracing the curve of your spine. You could feel his length hard between your thighs as he dug his hips into you, and then he curled over to kiss at your shoulders, brushing your hair out of the way as he did so. 

“-I want you wet before I dip you in the water.” He whispered, his voice sinful against your spine.  He traced his other hand back around your waist and down your abdomen, he twisted his wrist and curled his fingers against your heat. He spread your lower lips with his pointer and middle fingers, sliding them back and slowly dipping the tips shallowly into your entrance.

“I’m there-” You gasped.

“Yeah you are..” He pushed both fingers all the way in as he spoke, pressing the heel of his hand against your heat as your mouth opened wide in a sigh. The hand around your hip reached around to squeeze the tender flesh of your ass and you could feel yourself clenching hard around his fingers. He chuckled before he pulled them out and stepped back to give you room to breath. 

“You can peek now.” You paused a moment to collect yourself before slowly opening the door. 

It was warm and welcoming inside the bathroom, golden candlelight flickering and casting a subtle glow around the whole room and the white tile from every corner. You smiled at the two glasses of wine he had placed on the porcelain edge of the tub, one glass already half empty. 

The tub was full, a thick layer of sudds coating the surface with steam you could see coming up from where you were standing. He passed you, patting your shoulder before he walked up to place himself in the water. You watch him as he lowered himself, there was a shadow larger than him that followed. Two great fluttering masses that shifted and flickered in the candle light. He locked eyes with you, tilting his head in a question.

“Are you coming?” 

“Um -Of course.” You shook it off, bounding over to test the water. He watched you curiously with his back against the porcelain, you dipping your fingers in to make sure it wasn't too hot. -And it wasn’t, just somewhere in between warm and scalding. You stepped in slowly, turning your back to him. He reached his hands up to grasp your hips out of instinct, helping you lower in and rest yourself against his steaming chest. Your hips nestled between his legs. You sighed, allowing all of your inhibitions to wash away in the water. He brushed your hair aside, hot water sliding off his arms and against your skin as he handed you a glass of wine. You took the glass from him, watching his hands as they moved in front of you. He took his own glass and brought his other arm hot across your shoulders. 

“We should make a toast.” 

“To what?” You questioned.

“.. To longer days, and new ideas.” You smiled and scrunched your nose up at his toast, clinking your glass with his. “And lots of wine.” You added, taking a sip from your glass. It tasted rich and full, but there was something very familiar about it. You glanced over the side of the tub in search of the bottle. You picked it up to read the label after setting your glass back down on the edge. Laveyan vineyards.

“This is the stuff you’ve been saving, right?” He hummed, the vibrations penetrating through you and making you shiver. 

“Yeah, it's from an old friend. I thought it was finally time..” You gleamed, feeling honored he would crack something open from so long ago just because you had been feeling stuck. “Do you like it?" You took another sip, slower and more this time. “Yeah, something about it is really unique.” Or maybe it was just such a contrast to the same old brand you had usually been drinking from, you weren’t sure. 

You continued taking slow slips of wine, letting the subtle haze fill your senses while his hands slowly roamed your body. He liked to take his time in everything, making sure to graze his fingertips along every inch of your body. Down your arms, and between your fingers, and then back up and along your collar bones. His hands stayed so hot in contrast to the cold air as it battled to suck away the warmth on your skin. You shivered when he dipped his fingers between your breasts and along your sternum. You watched him graze his knuckles against your ribs, making little thumps and waves in the water with every pass. And then he was gliding them back up to tickle along the underside of your breasts. You sighed, leaning up into his touch just hoping he would speed up a little. He chuckled at your desperation, kissing the side of your head before his hand dipped below the surface. You flinched when he suddenly grabbed your thigh, and flinched again when you heard him slamming his glass down on the edge of the tub. He grabbed you around the shoulders firmly this time, his arm like hot steel. You could feel his breath on your neck as you stretched it back for him, and your eyes started to roll back when you felt his sharp teeth grave against your skin. You shivered under the weight of him, the shadows in the room growing along with your anticipation. The shadows felt like eyes on you, and you were thrumming under them. You skin alight, your legs trembling. He had distracted you fully with his teeth and then his lips, you’d forgotten the hand he left idly around your thigh. His hand moved, and then his fingers curled back against your heat just as his breathy lips reached your ear. 

“Should I make you wait?” He teased, his hand reaching up to grip hot digits around your jaw. He tilted your head to the side more, and sucked sloppy kisses into your pulse point. You melted into him, moaning as you felt his fingers dip easily inside of you. He dipped them in slowly, letting you really enjoy the stretch as the feeling melded with the sensation he was giving you on your neck. He sucked hard, grazing his tongue against the skin before he would dig his sharp teeth in. He had your head spinning already, and the steam and wine were only helping your dazed state. You’d forgotten he asked you something entirely when he curled his fingers up inside of you, the pads of them grazing that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. He barely moved them, lightly rubbing his fingertips back and forth and holding you as you started to sigh and tremble. 

“How long do you think you’ll last?” His lips vibrated against your skin as he spoke, but you didn’t have an answer. He added more pressure on that spot inside of you, angling his fingers away to the point where you could feel the hot water starting to mix with your slick as it entered you. He released your jaw to grope at your breasts again, and you head fell back to dribble against his shoulder. You wanted him to do more, to move more, to fuck you with his fingers like it was a competition. But this slow languid pace was something he was an expert at, speeding to the finish line would be so much less fun. Besides, you loved it when he toyed with you like this, when he touched and teased you for hours until all of your senses were screaming, and every touch was fire. The orgasms he could give you.. They would rip right through you, and they lasted so long. You could feel them start, could feel time slowing as every muscle in your body tensed up and sent shock waves against your skin. One by one, you could almost count the muscles clenching if you weren’t too dazed in ecstasy to think. 

He uncurled his fingers, sinking them back inside you to the knuckles where he rested them. You huffed, rolling your head over to hide your face in his neck. He chuckles again, the soft sound bouncing against the walls before he pulled his fingers from you entirely. He tipped your face up to press his lips against your own. You could taste the wine on him, the scent of lavender still heavy on his skin. You reached up to cup his face as he kissed you, moving it shortly to thread into his hair. He licked your lips, testing his teeth against them before slipping his tongue into your mouth. You hummed into him, sliding your silken muscle against his own. You felt him sigh into you, a gasp leaving his lips as your tongue tickled his inner cheek. He grew hungrier as he continued, gradually leaning into you and kissing you as deeply as he could at such a tight angle. 

You could feel his cock twitching against your back now, it pulsed thickly behind you. You were trying not to think so much about it being so close because thinking about it only ever made it harder for you to be patient. 

Thankfully tonight he had other plans -mid kiss he gripped both hands around your hips and lifted you up. You gasped into his mouth, flailing your hands out to catch the sides of the tub. You felt your hand tipping your glass over before you could stop yourself, you heard it shatter on the floor but neither of you let that stop you, his lips now locked against your shoulders. You felt him letting one of your hips go to reach down up under you now that you could help with your balance. He started to line himself up with your entrance, letting himself go and helping you to ease down onto him. You sunk down slowly, the water making waves that kissed against your thighs from all the movement. You could sink down fast, but he had you trained so well, you knew he would stop you. His strong hands would be holding you back; hell, he might have even pulled himself out and made you wait longer. You only lowered yourself down as quickly as he would allow, his strong arms still keeping you steady.

The stretch was almost painful, the blunt head of his cock pushing stiffly into you. The water helped, it eased the slight burn that every new inch deeper he entered you would bring. You hissed, angling your hips when you felt the head of his cock slide past that spot inside of you. He started to groan, a low sound that shook the air. You parted your lips and let your head fall back, just enjoying the moment.

He pulled you down harder once you were reaching closer to his base, and then he thrust into you hard. You were so unbelievable full of him, his cock wholey nestled and pressing against every soft spot inside of you, his head pressed flush against your cervix. Your walls were fluttering and squelching, struggling to hold his full girth. 

“Lean back baby.” His voice was strained as he spoke, but he kept the pitch steady. You leaned back, trying to relax your shoulders against his chest and the cold rim of the tub. You were already gasping in rhythm with the waves, and your clenching cunt. 

He lifted your hips back up, keeping your weight tilted back at your shoulders. You groaned at the way he slipped half way out of you, your feet catching on the edges of the tub to help keep you from falling. He slapped his hips back into yours a moment later when you weren’t expecting it. You moaned and gripped the tub so hard your knuckles were turning white. Before you could catch a breath he was slamming in and out of you again, the water splashing up around you and onto the floor with the force of his thrusts. He kept his pace steady, slamming his cock against that spot inside of you that made you shudder. You moaned and whined, his name on your lips. Sweet like the wine. You weren’t use to this from him, this force, this speed. You shivered thinking about how sweet and fresh he was being for you tonight. 

You hung a leg over the ledge to giving him more leverage and an easier angle. He groaned, his pace gradually rising. You whimpered.

“Shit -s-shit.”  

He grunted, his face falling forward as the feelings consumed him. 

You felt the air growing warmer, smelt something like sulfur sneaking its way into the sweetened aroma. You focused on keeping your eyes open, watching the water as it splashed, watching Yoongi’s hips moving up from beneath you. You noticed those shadows again, the twin black masses from before.  They started to span out around you, the one against the wall stretching forward. For a moment it grew crisper, jagged and smooth around its many edges. The one that crept around your left side fluttered before you, stretching and curling above you as the other strained itself against the wall, pushing the now unlit candles that sat against the edge into the water. It beat itself against the wall, like it was struggling in rhythm with Yoongi’s thrusts. 

You weren’t scared.. A part of you knew that they had always been there. The shadows at Yoongi’s back.

His pace started to waver as he was losing himself. He was close, and so were you. You closed your eyes again, feeling smooth feathers as they tickled your skin, his sharp nails as they dug deep into your thighs. And finally that cord inside of you snapped. You moaned out, your voice pitching higher and cracking at its peak. Each wave of pleasure hit with a lead weight, threatening to consume you fully with every pass. You felt him Struggling to fuck up into you, struggling to keep you at the right angle. You used what little leverage you had to bounce yourself against him, feeling his cum starting to coat your plush walls. Every sound that escaped his lips was something beautiful, something you would treasure as long as you could.

He slowed, finally, near dropping you as he felt exhaustion taking over. You sighed, basking in the afterglow. You could still see his wings, and you were happy this time. They were beautiful and intricate, shinny from the water. You reached out to touch one of them hoping for once that this was real. The feathers quivered against your fingertips.

“Y/n?” He sounded startled, his voice still raspy and low. “Can you see them?..” His arms wrapped around you again as you ran a finger against the edge of one of the feathers. 

“Yeah.. “ It swayed then, bending and flexing inward before fluttering in around you. You felt his head drop against your shoulder just as you felt his wings tighten around the both of you. You felt so safe in his embrace, loved. But you remembered something else, something that jolted you back up. The wings parted way for you quickly, disappearing back into the shadows as smoothly as they came.

You had to check before you forgot again. 

You rushed out of the tub, paying little attention to the glass on the floor. You felt sharp cuts blooming on your soles but they only made you move faster. You snatched your robe off the door and ran as quick as you could down the hall. That strange door on the left was there.. But what about the front door?

You heard him shouting after you, heard the water as he rushed out of the bath to follow you. But he wasn’t quick enough, you made it. Just in front of the front door you thought for so long wasn’t there. It was just a lie, a glamour. This whole time you could have walked right out and you never knew.

“Y/n! Wait!” Your hand was already on the knob, your other holding your robe closed. You looked back at him with shock in your eyes. Before you stood the creature from before, the one with the diamond eyes and the face you loved. 

“Y/n.. if you leave I’ll never see you again.” You felt the pain in his voice and the weight of his words. But the exit you had been longing for was right there. 

“Come with me?” You pleaded, you wanted so badly for him to come. You weren’t sure what he was; you were barely sure who he was, but you knew his heart and you wanted him to escape this place just as much as you wanted to leave it. 

“I can’t” He sounded so defeated as he stepped forward, the dark image of him fading and revealing the man you were use to. 

“What- why? The door is right here Yoongi! Let's leave this place! We can go anywhere we want!” You fought him, your hand still firmly gripped around the door handle because you were scared if it wasn’t it would disappear again. You reached your other hand to him, but he wouldn’t take it. 

“I can’t y/n. The door isn’t there for me, I can’t see it.. It’s just a wall, it's always only been a wall.” 

“If it's just a wall then how did I get here? How did we meet?” He shook his head, shivering and then glancing back to his hourglass.

“I can’t remember.” He turned back. “And I can’t make you stay-”

“I’ll come back for you.” You stated, and a timid smile greeted you. “I’ll bring the whole building down if I have to.” He only nodded, turning his gaze to the floor. 

“Yeah.. I’ll be here.” You huffed, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him closer so that you could peck him on the lips. You weren’t going to make this a goodbye, because it wasn’t.   

You opened the door quickly and stepped out, letting it close quietly behind you.

You..

What were you doing?