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keouil · 4 months ago

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down must fall the sky

in hell, they leave the love in. it’s important to remember that, thinks mincheol, on the bed of a girl he’s known barely a year with the same color palette as haesoo but not quite: the love was there. it was always there. it’s the life part they screwed up just a touch. 1k. haesoo/mincheol. also on ao3.

You are shaking fists & trembling teeth. I know: You did not mean to be cruel. That does not mean you were kind. Sometimes, I think you forget. I am not God. I do not forgive.

VENETTA OCTAVIA

Maybe my life is trying to tell me something. These days, I want to wander, But the past still needs me. How could I ever leave?

HUA XI

花

In hell, they leave the love in.

It’s important to remember that, thinks Mincheol, on the bed of a girl he’s known barely a year with the same color palette as Haesoo but not quite: The love was there. It was always there. It’s the life part they screwed up just a touch.

⊹

Mincheol first meets Haesoo under the awning of a bus stop.

It’s raining, the first pour they’ve had all summer, and when you live in the slums of Seoul with practically no heat management system in place: you take your victories and spin them into gold. He jogs down the stone steps, yells out a Sell well, halmeoni! to the pajeon seller who always goes door to door first thing in the morning, and helps out a policeman wrangle a few kindergarten kids to safety on the pedestrian lane. There was a community here, thinks Mincheol, the same way ragtag people find themselves gravitating towards each other and making the most of what life hands to them at the bottom of the barrel.

Mincheol bumps into her on the way down the steps to the bus stop, milk bread in his mouth and spun silk in her hair.

“Oh,” he says, and then: “Hello.”

⊹

She was beautiful, by the gods she always was; but even more so, thought Mincheol then, her heart. She was quiet in her kindness, and kept to herself in class where he was great and grand and loud. The sort of beautiful to write home about, the way her eyes lit up just a fraction when they went flower viewing in spring; or the elegant slope of her neck that had his heart stopping when she bent down to pick one up; or the almost hesitant, almost shy way she offered up the tiniest smile along with the dandelion she presented to him: heart on her sleeve and longing lodged in his throat.

Haesoo was the kind of beautiful you marry young.

The one you make a life partner out of. The one that when both of you stroll past the streets of Myeongdong, will have people stop for a second, and re-assess and double back: because yes, Mincheol had been there himself: She is real and she is mine. There are great, grand, loud things he has planned for them: a penthouse suite overlooking the Han River, a vacation house in Jeju they can summer in, the whole world on a platter, it seemed, if she asked; and by the gods, he was going to give that all to her.

⊹

They go to the same college. Mincheol takes up an internship at a multinational company and complains of long days of being a glorified errand boy, but Haesoo, Haesoo: in the little rundown apartment by Ilsan they pay way too much for way too little, always managed to assemble a few loose ingredients to make sundubu jiggae and arrange them in a fashion like a king’s meal long before he even gets to toe his shoes off. Haesoo who turns to him in the doorway and says with so much delicacy, so much honesty, so much heart: “Mincheol-ah,” and then, “Welcome home”, and then, “You worked hard”; that always has his heart racing, years after and long after.

I love you, he would always say back. I love you and I want us both to eat well.

⊹

When they lie in bed at night on the futon passed down to them by Mincheol’s parents, the one that was hard on the back and had him offering up his pillow to her instead: he’d turn to her, quiet in the night, with a voice as soft as liquid silk: I’m going to take care of you.

⊹

The love was there. It was always there.

It was never a problem until it became the problem.

⊹

Mincheol marries Haesoo to no fanfare: There, the girl at the legal office said as she slid the papers their way, It’s done. Mincheol could only look on in equal parts awe and dumbstruckness at the tangible evidence of the very real thing they just did that was going to impact their lives now in a very real way. Haesoo, though, when she lifts her head to look at him: It’s done? she asks, still so timid and lovely and soft, Are we really—

And Mincheol heaves her up in his arms, smothers her with kisses and even more declarations of his love, all the way until they reach the expensive yakiniku place they have no money to spend on but decide fuck all because:

“Yes,” says Mincheol, breathless, still just looking at her and not believing she was real and she was his and he was hers and they were standing at the edge of the world or staring down at it, daring it to bite back. “We’re really.”

⊹

The mortgage on their first home is bleeding both of them dry, but they’re married and young and excited to do life with each other. It’s imperfect like how most marriages go, but for the first time in their lives, they have a real shot at making it out of the slums and building the bricks on a life they can slowly start chipping away on.

“When it gets too hard,” whispers Haesoo, brushing a few strands of hair away from his face when they face each other on the bed after Mincheol gets another job rejection the third time that week. “We attack the problem and not each other. Always. Okay?”

Mincheol tugs her further into him. “Okay,” he says, and then: “Okay.”

⊹

But:

⊹

The world and life, though.

It catches up to you.

It bites back.

⊹

Mincheol starts working overtime. Haesoo takes on more shifts and more part-time jobs. In a moment of pure desperation and Haesoo shivering on the floor because they’re three payments late on electricity, Mincheol tucks her in all the jackets he has and leans down to ghost a kiss on her forehead and tenders all he has left to give: I’m going to take care of you.

He leaves in the middle of the night in nothing but his t-shirt and a number he swore to never call.

⊹

The next day, all their bills are paid.

⊹

The next month, the loan sharks start banging on their door.

⊹

Mincheol tries hiding it all from her, from pretty and sweet and delicate Haesoo; he takes on a few side-hustles, invests in start-ups, even does a little black market trading on the down low. Some of them stick but not enough.

But the love, thinks Mincheol, it’s still there.

It’s always going to be there. You don’t brave through the jaws of death growing up poor and not know a thing or two about gratefulness, or feeling tethered to someone you did all that clawing through with. Haesoo is still as beautiful as the day the first drop of rain soaked through her uniform, that had him blushing and pushing his blazer to her chest, that had him flushing and sputtering all throughout his senior year until he finally plucked enough courage to rip out the first button of his uniform and hand it to her, hands shaking, with a smile that was just as shaky: “Will you go out with me?”

She said yes, and damn her for saying yes all those years ago, because now; now Mincheol was indebted. He felt indebted to will the fantasy life he wanted for her, this girl who never asked for anything but deserved so much more than canned tuna for dinner and a husband who always came home late; this girl who took one look at his tired face from a long night and wordlessly took off his jacket and shoes for him, deposited him on their banged up couch, and started quietly working out the kinks in his muscles; this girl with the face, as soft as a lily pad, hum lullabies to him when the stress met his dreams and he kept thrashing in bed; who, at her first spun song, his heart will always tender itself to.

He doesn’t deserve her. He knows he doesn’t deserve her. But it’s hard to forget a mouth that loves you, even more so, thinks Mincheol: one that you know has been the only one to ever love you as completely and nakedly as you are.

⊹

The anger, then. That’s new.

⊹

Things Haesoo has lied to him about over the years:

“Yes, I already ate.”

“It’s just a bad sprain.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“I wasn’t late to work.”

“I don’t need to take a day off.”

“I’m not hungry, you can have the last bite.”

“I’m okay.”

⊹

So when the bills are piling up and loan sharks are barking down your door and your wife is crying herself to sleep every night, thinks Mincheol, bitterly: This is marriage.

But how could he direct all that hatred to her, on stable and supportive and enduring Haesoo? Who has only ever known to be there for him when times were rough and especially then when they weren’t? She’s become too trusting of him. She’s become too dependent on the stability of their love that she thought would have survived anything. He couldn’t fault her for that. He couldn’t get mad at her for believing in life when he’d gone through hell and back to shield its ugliest parts from her.

⊹

So he punishes himself instead.

⊹

When a young brunette co-worker invites him out for drinks the next week, he only hesitates just the second before saying yes.

#na haesoo #kang mincheol #beom taeha #tears on a withered flower #manhwa #fic

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fandomcentralsstuff · 1 month ago

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I personally think Haesoo and Ari need to band together and beat Mincheol with a baseball bat

#tears on a withered flower #manhwa #manhwa recommendation #mine #na haesoo #kang mincheol

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nahaesoo · 3 months ago

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𓂃⋅˚₊‧🌷⭒ I can't explain how much I love them. They mean so much to me and are my favorites forever! ♡₊˚⋆

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strafepanzer · 3 months ago

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na haesoo is sooooo hot

#ARE YOU KIDDING #tears on a withered flower #na haesoo ur my everything

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zerocoded · 2 months ago

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summary: you need a favor and beom taeha always have a way to be back on your life.

authors note: why haven't i seen ANY english work about this webtoon here on tumblr? i've been OBSESSED for a while and found out i could try to write a piece about it. i searched for fanfics of it before sleeping yesterday and was CRUSHED bc there isn't one. so this is my contribuition to the fandom, i hope at least one person will find this teehee.

warnings and tags: oc x beom taeha • reader x beom taeha • not na haesoo even tho she's a queen • i described reader with long dark hair at one point, sorry

word count: 3.1k

beom taeha’s voice sliced through the silence with a hint of stiffness, as if it had always been waiting for the perfect moment to unsettle you. whether the two of you were alone, sharing unspoken thoughts, or when your presence grew too much for him to handle, he always found a way to keep you on edge.

the suits he wore, the elegance he carried—none of it ever fooled you.

his every breath seemed measured, his movements precise, as though he was rationing the number of steps he could take in a day. and when you weren’t captivated by his breathtaking beauty, you found yourself quietly mourning the fragments of a boy who had never really been allowed to grow up.

whether the two of you were alone, sharing unspoken thoughts, or when your presence grew too much for him to handle, he always found a way to keep you on edge.

not that you had such a great childhood yourself—you hadn’t—but somehow, you’d managed to sidestep the darkness waiting to swallow fragile minds like yours and taeha’s whole.

you managed to suffer by the hands of an unknown man at the time, while for taeha that man was his own father. you were slightly more lucky than the two beom boys when it came to the experiments all of you were put under.

so, in a way, you were beom taeha’s shield, and that’s exactly why you were here now.

the ponytail guard sucked in a breath when he saw you, standing calmly in the center of taeha’s living room, the delicate crunch of rose petals under your heels filling the space. you wore a refined three-piece beige suit, its clean lines complementing the cascade of long dark hair framing your figure. stilettos gave weight to your graceful steps, while the soft touch of makeup subtly highlighted the elegance of your features.

for a few seconds, you and the guard stood in silence, locked in an unspoken exchange. a white stick rested between his lips, unmoving, and for a fleeting moment, it reminded you of beom taeha’s habit of sucking on a lollipop whenever he was excited. but even with the sweetness of the memory tugging at the edges of your mind, your face betrayed none of those emotions.

"who are you?" the guard asked, his voice rigid, the fifth-generation g22 aimed squarely at you as his face hardened with misplaced seriousness. his steps were deliberate, closing the distance in an attempt to intimidate someone who had clearly stood in front of a gun more times than he ever would.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, your gaze remained fixed on the taller man standing just beyond the bodyguard, tracing the familiar details of his face like an old, obsessed lover reliving a memory they couldn’t let go of. he didn’t meet your eyes immediately, calmly slipping off his shoes as if the scene unfolding before him was nothing but routine, as if the gun pointed at you was no more than a minor inconvenience.

beom taeha was calm—because he already knew who you were. hell, he probably was expecting you to come already after what happened.

“did beom taeju send you here?” taeha’s voice was calm, collected—completely detached from the idiot standing beside him, still holding you at gunpoint like a clueless accessory to this whole mess.

he shrugged off his dark coat and let it drape over his arm, his gaze settling on you with an air of disinterest, hands buried lazily in the pockets of his slacks, as if your presence had become just another inconvenience in his life. beside him, the ponytailed bodyguard glanced between the two of you, unsure if he should maintain the threat or quietly disappear from the room before things got worse. you met his gaze with the same dull disinterest taeha was throwing your way, both of you mirroring the exhaustion of a dance you’d long grown tired of.

before the guard could make a decision, taeha stepped forward, gripping the gun and gently lowering it, effortlessly disarming whatever false authority the bodyguard thought he had. the poor guy looked even more confused, defeated in a fight that never had a winner.

“please,” you sighed, the weight of the past slipping into your voice as you spoke, calm but bittersweet. “we both know your father hates me more than he does you.”

“right,” taeha chuckled softly, the shift in his expression perfectly aligned with the man you remembered. “so, you ran away just to be here?” he asked, the question curling off his lips with casual curiosity.

“it’s been a while since i’ve been on prison furlough,” you replied, your voice steady. “i didn’t exactly run away.”

“so, what brings you here? want me to kill your grandpa now?” he said it with such effortless nonchalance, as if it were as simple as ordering takeout. but even though you’d never been on good terms with the old man, you didn’t laugh. instead, you watched as taeha’s playful mask slipped, his expression shifting into something more serious when he realized you weren’t in the mood for nostalgic banter.

“why are you here, y/n?”

“just wanted to see you. it’s been a while,” you said, half-truths rolling off your tongue like second nature.

“right, that sounds like you,” taeha muttered, running his fingers through his dark strands as he circled the table separating the two of you. when he was close enough to touch you, he stopped, but instead of reaching out, he sank into the cushioned sofa next to your purse.

you watched him relax, unbothered by the mess of red petals scattered across his apartment floor. the ponytailed guard—jay, you knew him—stood by taeha’s shoes at the door, observing the scene with a fake, emotionless gaze, as if trying to decode the situation.

“young master?” jay finally spoke, as though he’d been waiting for an explanation of who you were or how you’d gotten here without so much as a scratch. but he didn’t get one. taeha ignored him completely, lazily gesturing for you to sit in the chair across from him.

with jay dismissed, you crossed the room and sat down without hesitation, your gaze never breaking from taeha’s.

“i think you know your apartment is clipped. i’d rather have this conversation outside,” you said, your tone carrying no hint of submission to the boy seated before you.

“are you taking me on a date, miss ryeo?” taeha smirked, his teasing sarcasm floating through the air like a strange perfume, coating his features in something that felt slightly off. “do you still have feelings for me?”

“please,” you scoffed, the sharpness of your words cutting through the room. “i am no do heejin.”

taeha didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on you with quiet curiosity, as if trying to piece together the version of you sitting before him. it had been just under a year since the two of you last saw each other, and though you were never the type to be compared to heejin’s sweet, innocent love for him, both of you knew exactly how things had unraveled. the ties you shared were complicated, something far too close to love but tangled in despair instead.

“where do you suggest we go, then?” he finally asked, a trace of genuine interest flickering across his face. and he should be curious—after all, the two of you had cut each other off so abruptly that neither had time to consider the aftermath.

“somewhere your little dog won’t follow you,” you replied sharply, your eyes darting toward the bodyguard by the door, filled with nothing but disdain.

you knew exactly where he’d go once this was over.

taeha chuckled at your reaction, his laughter soft but amused, as if your distaste for his new guard was the most entertaining part of his day. “okay,”

protests spilled from the bodyguard’s lips, but you didn’t bother listening. instead, you found a small sense of relief in knowing that a flicker of taeha’s trust still rested in your grasp. with a simple flick of his fingers, he dismissed the worker without a second thought, then reached for your purse beside him, casually handing it over as if the two of you hadn’t just reopened old wounds.

little did taeha know, your words weren’t just a reflection of your usual disdain for men with guns. you knew jay—knew exactly why he was here. and that was the very reason you’d come to warn him.

as you slung your purse over your shoulder, taeha rose from the sofa with the same effortless grace he always carried, as if nothing in the world could ever really shake him. without a word, he led you toward the door, his hand barely grazing the small of your back, a silent gesture that reminded you he still knew how to navigate you in moments like this. the crunch of rose petals followed the two of you as you stepped into the hallway.

jay, of course, wasn’t far behind. you could hear the hurried shuffle of his shoes as he tried to catch up, his voice cutting through the air before you even reached the elevator.

“boss, i should come with you,” jay insisted, his tone laced with that overly eager loyalty you couldn’t stand.

taeha didn’t slow down, didn’t even glance back. instead, as the elevator doors opened, he gave a soft laugh, low and knowing, before turning his head slightly over his shoulder. “stay here, jay.”

the words were said with such casual finality that even jay, despite whatever stubborn determination he had, hesitated. you smirked as the guard stopped dead in his tracks, unsure whether to argue or obey.

the elevator doors closed, sealing jay out of whatever was about to come next. the ride down was quiet, the tension between you and taeha thick but familiar, as if the ghosts of your shared past were riding with you. when the doors opened, you followed him outside, where the cool evening air greeted you like a reminder of just how far the two of you had drifted from the people you used to be.

taeha’s car was waiting—a sleek, black luxury model that looked as untouchable as he made himself appear. you slid into the passenger seat, and soon, the hum of the engine filled the silence. the car wasn’t the same he used to drive when you both still dated, the change was a good thing considering the silence inside the vehicle. neither of you spoke during the drive, but the occasional glance from him didn’t go unnoticed. he was observing you, studying you, as if trying to uncover what you weren’t saying yet.

it wasn’t long before he pulled into a discreet side entrance of a dimly lit restaurant, the kind of place only those in the know would find. the valet barely blinked as taeha handed over the keys, and moments later, the two of you were escorted to a private room tucked away from prying eyes.

as you settled into the plush seat across from him, a glass of water already waiting at your side, taeha leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady and expectant. “so,” he said, breaking the silence with that familiar, smooth tone, “what exactly did you come to warn me about?”

you exhaled, fingers lightly tapping the edge of the glass as you met his gaze. “don’t trust lee jay. your father hired him to stalk you,” you began, watching the slight shift in taeha’s posture—still appearing relaxed, but the sharp glint of curiosity in his eyes betrayed him. “last week, the chairman went to my grandpa’s company,” you continued, your voice steady but laced with warning. “he reinforced cameras in all the hotels.”

taeha didn’t respond right away, but you could tell the gears in his mind were turning. his fingers drummed lazily against the armrest, though the air between you grew noticeably heavier. “hotels,” he repeated softly, as if weighing the significance of the move. “so, he’s extending his reach. monitoring me even outside the main properties.”

you nodded, leaning forward slightly. “it’s not just that. he’s got jay tailing you, waiting for a misstep. your father’s planning something—he’s paranoid, and he doesn’t trust the decisions you’re making.”

taeha chuckled, a humorless sound that sent a chill down your spine. “when does he ever trust me?” he muttered, shaking his head before locking eyes with you again. “but you’re not just here to warn me about him, are you?”

you hesitated for a second, but there was no point in dancing around the truth. “no. i’m here because if jay’s following you, it’s not just your father you should be worried about. there’s a bigger network involved, and if they’re watching you, they’re watching me too.”

taeha leaned back, a slight smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “you think you’re still that important to them?”

“i know i am,” you replied firmly. “because if you go down, i go down with you. and they’re not about to let either of us slip through the cracks again.”

“so… just because your grandpa runs the most hired security company out of the country, you end up knowing everyone’s secrets?” taeha’s tone was casual, almost amused, as if he’d expected nothing less from you.

“i’m not here to talk about that right now, taeha,” you replied, your voice sharp enough to cut through his smugness. his gaze lingered on you, waiting for what you’d say next.

you didn’t flinch. “you should stop meeting the woman you’re stalking,” you warned, the weight of your words settling heavily between you. “i know how this ends, and it’s not going to turn out well for her.”

taeha’s expression didn’t shift much, but you caught the brief flicker in his eyes—a mixture of realization and something darker, as if he was already aware of the potential fallout. “so, you know about na haesoo,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“of course, i do,” you said, folding your arms. “i’m a ryeo, i know all of the chaebol’s secrets. i’ve seen what obsession like this does, taeha. i’ve lived through it. don’t let her be collateral damage.”

he exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair, the tension in his shoulders betraying him for the first time. “it’s not like that,” he whispered, but the conviction in his voice wavered just enough to tell you otherwise.

“then make sure it doesn’t become that,” you shot back. “before taeju discards her. he is not going to merciful like he was with me, trust what i’m saying.”

“and what do you gain from telling me all this, princess?” there it was—the nickname. the one that always hit you harder than you wanted it to. your body tensed, a barely noticeable flinch that didn’t go unnoticed by taeha. his smirk deepened, eyes glinting with amusement. “do you really want me to kill your grandpa?” he added, a chuckle escaping as if the idea itself was ridiculous, yet somehow tempting.

“i need a favor,” you said, cutting through his teasing like a blade. your tone left no room for him to twist the conversation further. you knew how to play with beom taeha, and he didn’t seem to mind that sometimes.

taeha leaned against the window, arms crossed lazily over his chest as he studied you, his amusement slowly giving way to curiosity. “a favor,” he repeated, drawing out the word like it held more weight than you intended. “that’s why you came here. not to warn me out of the goodness of your heart.”

“warning you was part of it,” you admitted, stepping closer, your eyes locked on his. “but yes, i need something in return.”

“what kind of favor, y/n?” his voice softened, but it didn’t lose its edge.

“my grandpa is selling me off for a marriage,” you said, the weight of the words draining your energy even as you spoke them. “the kim’s oldest son showed some interest. apparently, being too old and desperate for a woman made me the perfect choice.”

taeha raised a brow, leaning casually against the back of the booth as if your misery was just another piece of gossip. “you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend again?”

“not exactly,” you corrected, sighing. “i need to redirect my grandpa’s attention to the beom family again. just one date, that’s all. you show up, make him believe you’re serious about marrying me, and he’ll back off for at least a year.”

taeha tilted his head, his expression bored but not entirely dismissive. “except i won’t,” he said plainly. “i’m in love with another woman.”

“no shit, sherlock,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “i said pretend, didn’t i? i’m not asking you to fall in love with me. i need you to act like you might.”

he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he weighed the proposition. “so, let me get this straight,” he muttered. “you want me to fake being madly in love with you, scare off the kim family, and keep your grandpa off your back. what’s in it for me?”

“i’ll make sure to wipe some images of you carrying your princess to the hotel last night,” you said simply, your tone steady as your eyes locked on his. “your dad won’t like that, so i’ll deal with it. give you a few weeks to slap that fake smile back on and maintain the illusion of happiness.”

taeha’s fingers drummed rhythmically against the table, the sound filling the heavy silence between you. the pause stretched long enough to make you wonder if he’d walk away from the deal. but then, just as you started to prepare a backup plan, he leaned back, a small smirk curving his lips.

“fine,” he said, voice low and deliberate. “one date. but don’t expect me to play the perfect fiancé for too long, princess. you better have your plan airtight.”

you exhaled quietly, relief hidden behind a neutral expression. “i always do,” you replied.

taeha chuckled softly, leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you, his gaze playful but sharp. “and here i thought you’d outgrown me. turns out, you still know how to get under my skin.”

“oh, i never stopped,” you shot back, rising from your seat and grabbing your purse. “i just took a break.”

taeha laughed under his breath as he watched you walk away. “this is going to be fun, isn’t it?”

“as fun as pretending you’re in love with me can get,” you called back without turning around. “don’t be late.”

author's note: unrelated but i think do heeji is a BADDIE. i suck at endings, ik. PART TWO HERE. send me a request • my masterpost

#beom taeha #beom taeha x reader #beom taeha x oc #beom taeha fanfic #beom taeha fic #tears on a withered flower #tears on a withered flower fanfic #tears on a withered flower fluff #webtoon #korean webtoon #toawf #webtoon fanfic

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pruneunfair · 5 months ago

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My feelings on: part 8, Tears on a withered flower: the most annoying fandom to date so far.

I ask if this one was really that great since I've been seeing it all over the place on tiktok and Instagram and reading it myself, I can see why it would garner an audience because it's another "working woman finds a better man after her loser ex cheats on her with a stupid damsel girl" type story. It's kinda good but in my opinion: it's not THAT good but there is only 23 chapters I read so far so I'll let it marinate before I actually start going after it for the plot.

What I really wanna talk about is the fanbase of tears on a withered flower because while the manhwa community does have a problem with internalized misogyny this specific fanbase takes the cake.

I don't like saying the term "glazing" but it's the only way to accurately describe the way they treat the FL Na Haesoo because they are absolutely feral. First off, I've seen them lose their shit over other fans simply saying "I think that this female character has a prettier design then Hae soo." And these stans reply with the most immature and even down right laughable comebacks. I took some screenshot of a tears of the wither flower slide show to give you an idea.

"Hae soon is the main character for a reason."

Who's gonna tell them that protagonists can be written poorly?

Trust me, I'm sure no one's jealous of a fictional character.

Okay the context basically was that Hae soos coworker was just being real with her based on what she knows about Hae soos life and apparently fans took that as her being jealous and when people who actually read the god damn plot and use their critical thinking to point this out, the stans basically go "nuh uh" and continue to scream even louder. Personally when I read that chapter i took it as brutal honesty, from her perspective Tae Ha was hitting on a married woman and the two barely knew eachother. A little harsh but she's not jealous of Hae soo 😭 like we barely know this girl!

I think the most complained about aspect of tears on a withered flower is the anatomy, specifically the anatomy of all the characters your supposed to really like/care about.

I don't mind that Hae Soo is built like that cause while her anatomy definitely is unrealistic it's also a cartoon comic and cartoons have lots of bizarre forms of anatomy that don't always need to be accurate. With that said I don't find it a coincidence that the FL who is the most fleshed out and only grown woman who isn't meant to be disliked or made fun of is a tsunade cup sized babe with big thighs, a tiny waist, a nice butt, and a baby face.

Yeah I'll say it: Hae soo is another example of authors wanting to make a non conventionally attractive woman since she's supposed to be older (like 33) who is also overworked so she doesn't take care of herself but in the end they didn't have the balls to actually go through with it so they not only gave Hae soo an amazing figure and hair but they also gave her a clear face, tiny lips and barely noticeable eye bags which I still can't tell if they're even eye bags or just her eyelashes.

When anyone even dares to point out that Hae Soo's design is weirdly propionate compared to the other female characters you get hid with the "Your just jealous that you can't have a man like Tae Ha!!"

look i don't mind disproportionate anatomy in cartoon comics but if you give me character designs with more accurate proportions, I'm going to choose the latter for prettier looking designs.

Another thing about this manhwa was the dialog. I like it at times because it can be so poetic.. and then they just throw in some comically evil sentences for the villains that most sane people would not make the public aware of in a modern day setting. It's not something that really annoys me I just thought it was fun to laugh at every now and again while reading.

conclusion: I think the best way to describe tears on a withered flowers fanbase is kinda like how Netflix treats Bigmouth. No, TOTWF is definitely no where near levels of uncomfortable as Bigmouth but it's in the way that it really isn't as good as everyone claims, it's okay at first and then it got old and some people started opening up that the thought Bigmouth was garbage only for a bunch of stans to barge in with "You just don't get it!!" People won't let it go, they keep insisting it's the best piece of work to exist and anyone who doesn't like it is a jealous loser.

#tears on a withered flower #na hae soo #beom taeha #Do heeji #Ari #Kang mincheol #webcomic #Manhwa

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ayno-magi · 2 months ago

Text

Tears on a Withered Flower 🥀: Ch. 1

⤷ (Reader Insert)

── ⋅ ⋅ ── 𖦹

this might be not everyone’s cup of tea since it’s mostly reader simping over na hae (mc)

but, if you guys really want i GUESS i can make beom tae x reader w smut maybe 😒🥱

pls PLS lmk what you guys think in the comments 🫶

kind of shitty to be honest since the next word I kept typing was coming out of my ass

additional tags: gn reader, reader does call themselves “girl” once, reader being a bisexual icon, how could you not fall for this fine mama cause GYYATT DAYUM, na hae soo x reader x beom tae ha, reader simping over na hae, reader is in mid 20s, sesbian lex???, reader with a milf/dilf complex

incorrect grammar and misspelling ahead

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It was nearly midnight when the shrill ringtone of your phone jolted you awake. Blinking against the darkness, you fumbled for your device, the screen's harsh light making you squint. The name that flashed across the display sent a jolt of adrenaline through you: Na Hae Soo. In an instant, you shot upright, heart pounding as surged of mostly nervousness and excitement, your blood rushing to your head.

This was the first time Haesoo called you first. Your hands shook as you answered, breathless, “...hello?” Your voice came out hoarse, prompting you to clear your throat, but before you could speak again, a shaky voice broke through the line.

“(L/N)... I-I... need you *hic*,” Haesoo's words were laced with distress, and you could hear the tremor in her voice, hinting at tears. A wave of concern washed over you—was she in trouble? Had her husband hurt her? “Is everything okay? Are you hurt? Where are you? Are you at home? I’m coming to get you!” you blurted out, kicking off the covers and reflexively putting on your slippers.

You stumbled around your room, colliding with furniture and nearly tripping over the chaos strewn about. Catching yourself against the wall, you flicked on the light, urgency propelling you forward. “Just wait for me, okay, Na Hae!” you shouted as you dashed out, grabbing your keys from the counter.

Pulling the phone away, you realize she had hung up. Panic flooded your body as you burst through the door, the chill of the night air prickling your skin. You raced down the stairs, nearly losing your footing, and slammed into your car. With a quick flick, you unlocked it and started the engine, ignoring the seatbelt as you sped out of the parking lot, foot pressing hard on the gas, heart racing with every second that passed.

*Several Months Ago*

You finally finished doing pick up orders, your knees protesting as you bent down to ease the strain from standing too long. Glancing around you spotted Jeong sweeping the floor, you called out to her, "Could you take this out to the front for me once you're done?" Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the table brimming with bouquets. "You finished that quickly! It hasn't been long at all! Thank you, Unnie!" She exclaimed, her joy palpable, mostly because it meant she was spared from the heavy lifting that you had just tackled.

"Yeah yeah, no problem," you replied, you wiped your green-stained hands on your apron and let out a weary sigh, contemplating a much-deserved lunch break.

But just as you began to relax, a loud voice pierced the air, "¿Dónde está la perra que estaba coqueteando con mi novio?!” (“ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᶦᵗᶜʰ ʷʰᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᶠˡᶦʳᵗᶦⁿᵍ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ!”)

Ooor not.

You and Jeong exchanged alarmed glances, the malice in the voice unmistakable despite the foreign language. Your shoulders slumped in resignation. "I'll go check it out," you said, steeling yourself for the confrontation ahead.

"Estas flores... ¿quién se las dio a mi novio?!" the voice continued, sharp and accusatory. ("ᵀʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ—ʷʰᵒ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ!?")

"Um- ma'am please, I-" You heard Haesoo's voice trembled, laced with fear.

"¡Fuiste tú quien le dio esto a mi novio, puta!" the woman shouted, her fury palpable. ("ᵂᵃˢ ᶦᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵒ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ, ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵒʳᵉ!")

Your heart raced as you quickened your steps, rounding a corner to find a woman violently waving a bouquet, petals scattering like confetti in a storm, while Hae-soo stood with her head bowed, clearly shaken. Without hesitation, you moved closer, wrapping one arm around Haesoo's shoulder and taking her trembling cold hands in yours, offering her a sense of safety. Haesoo snapped her head up in surprise at your presence, but the warmth of your embrace enveloped her, and for a moment, she felt shielded from the chaos surrounding them.

You pulled her in close, your voice low and soothing, "¿Cómo podemos ayudarle?" ("ᴴᵒʷ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ?") A gentle smile graced your lips as the woman turned her attention to you, her thrashing seemingly to subside, "Quiero enfrentar a la zorra que le envió estas flores a mi novio; ¡al parecer estaba coqueteando con él!" Her voice escalated with each word, and you could see Haesoo ever so slightly trembling beside you, yet your warm grip around her hands remained steady and reassuring. ("ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵏᵃⁿᵏ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ; ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˡʸ, ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶠˡᶦʳᵗᶦⁿᵍ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᶦᵐ!")

"Lo siento, pero no vendemos ese tipo de flores-" ("ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ-" ) you were interrupted.

"¡NO! ¡Esta es una florería donde mi novio las compró! ¡¿Dónde está la zorra que le dio esto a mi novio?!" Her words dripped with venom, and you felt your eyebrow twitch, but you maintained your calm demeanor, the smile still plastered on your face. ("ᴺᴼ! ᵀʰᶦˢ ᶦˢ ᵃ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᵖ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶦᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ! ᴺᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᶦˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵏᵃⁿᵏ ʷʰᵒ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ!!")

"Lamentablemente señora, no sabemos quién le vendió esas flores a su novio, ¿tiene usted un recibo” ("ᵁⁿᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᵐᵃ'ᵃᵐ, ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ, ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ʳᵉᶜᵉᶦᵖᵗ?")

"Por qué demonios-" ("ᵂʰʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉˡˡ-")

""Si no lo haces, entonces debo pedirte que te vayas."(“ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ, ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ.")

Her indignation was palpable as she raised the arm clutching the flowers, and you braced yourself, is this chick gonna do what you think she's gonna do. With a swift motion, she swung her arm down, aiming to strike you with the sharp thorns. Instinctively, you released Hae-soo's hand and seized the woman's wrist with a firm grip.

"Por favor, vete ahora." ("ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ, ⁿᵒʷ.")Your eyes narrowed into slits, trying to channel the intensity of a movie villain, you think it worked cause she seemed like she was gonna shit her pants; she struggled in your grasp, shaking you off, the flowers tumbling from her grasp. Taking a few steps back, she muttered under her breath, "Perra loca...." Stomping off as the door's bells jingled in her wake, you stuck out your tongue, retorting, "You're the crazy puta.” ( “ᵇᶦᵗᶜʰ”) You scoffed. (“ᶜʳᵃᶻʸ ᵇᶦᵗᶜʰ...”)

How infuriating.

"Um..." a soft, hesitant voice broke the silence beside you, drawing your attention to Haesoo, who remained nestled in your embrace. Her face was mere inches from yours, and while she appeared to look much more at ease, she was still shaken.

Ah, maybe cause you were squeezing her tight against you to the point her chest was squishing against yours creating an overwhelming closeness. The warmth of her body was pressed against yours was almost overwhelming. Her wide, expressive eyes seemed to drift into a distant haze, while her delicate lips formed a subtle frown that tugged at your heart.

Jesus fucking christ her boobs are just so-

What the hell am I thinking!

You lifted your hands up in the air like her body burned your skin, "I'm so sorry!!" your cheeks flushing a deep crimson as you averted your gaze, feeling as though you had stumbled upon something you weren’t meant to witness, "I didn't mean to touch you without your consent; it's just that I was worried that lady was gonna-"

"No! It’s not that, it’s just..." Her voice cut through your flustered ramble and as you lowered your hands, you turned your head to meet her gaze. To your surprise, she appeared more bashful than upset, her head bowed in a gesture of humility. "I’m sorry for not being any help," she murmured, her tone soft and laden with sincerity. You gasped hard, feeling your soul left your body, "Oh my goodness! Please raise your head! There's no need to apologize something when you did nothing wrong!" You were more embarrassed that an older women, like her, was bowing to someone younger, like you.

"I should be thanking you and I'm sorry you had to deal with a person like that, conflict is one of the most difficult situations we face because it thrusts us out of our comfort zone, don't feel the need to apologize so please raise your head Haesoo," you urged, your heart swelling with empathy for her.

She raised her gaze to meet yours, and as your words washed over her, a sense of calm enveloped her. The tension in her shoulders eased, and the frown that had etched itself on her lips began to fade. Her hands came together in front of her, fingers nervously intertwining as she spoke, "Thank you for your help. If there's any way I can repay you, please let me know." There was a shyness in her demeanor, a timidity that hinted at the weight of her thoughts, as if she were perpetually lost in her own world.

Yet, the sudden outburst from a customer jolted her back to reality, the harshness of the shouting ringing in her ears, though the words were lost on her. She struggled to appease the irate woman, but nothing seemed to work, and soon tears pricked at her eyes while her hands trembled uncontrollably. A wave of helplessness washed over her; she didn't know what to do, she needed to do something to fix this but what? What could she do, she can't even fix her relationship how can she do this. The air thickened around her, her vision blurred, and her mind spiraled with despair—she can't, she can't fix this.

But then, the warmth of your hands enveloped hers, and your presence shattered the oppressive atmosphere that had weighed so heavily on her. The burdens that had felt suffocating began to lift, and as she watched you effortlessly converse with the lady in a language with ease, a flicker of hope ignited within her. Your eyes met hers, and a reassuring smile broke through the tension;

Everything is gonna be okay.

Is what your smile said.

Haeso felt...

She felt protected, she felt safe. Even though it was such a simple touch on the shoulder and on her trembling hands, she just melted into you. Those small gestures, so seemingly insignificant—transforming her anxiety into a comforting warmth—meant everything at that moment.

You shook you head, a playful grin spreading across your face. "There's no need, anyone sensible would do that for someone in your position," you admitted, a sudden wave of shyness washing over you as you absentmindedly scratched the back of your neck. "And if you ever need someone to give those pesky customers a good scare, just say the word—I'm totally your girl," you added with a cheeky wink, feeling your cheeks start to burn.

Ah, I’m so cringe.

Despite the countless hours spent in the same space, you had never really engaged in a meaningful conversation with Haesoo. You had always assumed she preferred her solitude or the chatting with Jeong, which often consisted of the young girl doing most of the talking while Haesoo listened quietly.

Yet, as you looked into her eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye. As cliche as it sounds.

Haesoo had an air of mystery about her, a quiet strength that intrigued you.

Your eyes glazed over at her, as you wonder what she was like outside of work.

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The days you saw Haesoo you greeted her and when there was downtime you made light conversations that never ventured too deep, careful not to probe too much into her life, as her responses often carried a hint of hesitation. It was as if she wore a veil over her thoughts, keeping herself at a distance, and you respected that unspoken boundary.

"I finished up over here with the pre-orders, need a hand with yours?" You glanced over at Haesoo, who paused momentarily to look at your end of the table, every flower prepped and wrapped up neatly, "You really are fast," she awes before looking back at the remaining flowers that haven’t been finished, shrugging you took the untouched blooms from her side and began to arrange them, "I majored in art back in college, cause I thought I wanted to do something with that. I was wanted to find something that would help me be able to express myself back then. So the alluring of colors, shapes, and the stories they could tell captivated me. I wanted to share my vision with others and I thought I was convinced that this would be my passion, but that didn't really happen in the end."

Jeez college seemed like forever ago.

Haesoo listened carefully, her ears perking up, "You want to become an artist?" She folded the cellophane wrap on the table, glancing at the flowers you had completed. "Hmm, I did. But now I'm not sure what I want to do," you admitted, grabbing the back of your neck and titled your head to the side, feeling satisfied after hearing a pop.

"Now, I'm unsure of my future, I feel a little lost so I don't know what I want to do right now, kind of losing hope to be honest," you joked at the end, but it held some truth, Haesoo fell silent, which made you wondered if you overshared-

"Don't worry about the future; you should enjoy the present while you're young," she finally said

Haesoo pauses for a minute, "But, I hope you can create the future you want as well," she added, her gaze drifting into the distance, as if she was thinking something more about than she had said. Her eyes always look like they have something yearning, that’s what you thought anyway.

"I will try my best," you replied, giving her a cheeky smile as you nodded in agreement, but after that, a comfortable silence enveloped you both, leaving the air thick with unspoken thoughts.

You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, a sense of urgency washing over you as you sprang to your feet, "I have to get going," you exclaimed, hastily wiping your hands on your apron for the umpteenth time, but the faint of green stained your fingers still. Haesoo looked up, unexpected at your sudden leaving, "You have a short shift?" Haesoo looked up from her work, surprise flickering across her face at your abrupt departure. "Do you have a short shift today?" she inquired, her hands deftly adding the final touches to a vibrant bouquet.

You nodded, removing your apron and balled it up half hazardly, "Yeah, I have another job and my boss isn't very lenient about the schedule, so I have to be there on time whenever he calls for me." You lowered your gaze, a hint of regret creeping into your voice. "I’m really sorry I can’t stick around to help you finish up." The thought of leaving her despite not being alone still tugged at your conscience, but the clock was relentless, and you could already feel the weight of your next responsibility pressing down on you.

Haesoo waved her hands in front of her, "No need to apologizes," she reassured you, her understanding nature shining through like sunlight breaking through clouds. "I completely get it. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. Besides, you helped me so much,” She returned her focus to the bouquet, her fingers dancing among the petals as she arranged them with care. "Just make sure you take a moment to breathe, okay? You’re doing so much already."

You appreciated her kindness, but the urgency of your situation loomed large. "Thanks, Haesoo. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Maybe I can come in early tomorrow to help open?" You offered, hoping to ease the guilt that gnawed at you.

"That sounds perfect," she replied her voice laced with gratitude. "Just don’t overwork yourself. You need to take care of you too."

With a pep in your step, you felt a spark of giddiness in your chest, "I will! I’ll see you tomorrow!" You called over your shoulder as you rushed toward the door.

Haesoo's gaze lingered at where you had just disappeared, an unexpected wave of loneliness crashing over her like a sudden storm. It felt as though a piece had been whisked away, leaving behind a hollow ache. Like she had forgotten something a long time ago and wanted to see it once more, and she found herself closing her eyes, lost in contemplation. What was this strange sensation that had crept in so swiftly? Just moments ago, she had felt perfectly content, completely fine a second ago.

"I will try my best," you had said, your smile bright.

In that instant, Haesoo's heart raced, a wild drumbeat that seemed to drown out the world around her. She opened her eyes, her palms instinctively pressing against her chest as if to steady the tumult within. Confusion swirled in her mind; why did the mere thought of you send her spiraling into a dizzying mix of emotions?

"Unnie! We have customers!" Jeong's voice cut her thoughts.

"C-Coming!.." Haesoo called out softly, she looked down at her hands, remembering your warmed hands that touched hers. She remembered they were stained with green from the flowers, your fingers and knuckles having small cuts and scabs, and the smell of blue gum lingering on your hands. A small pout fell on her lips;

She wished she could've talked more with you.

To be continued…

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The story is far from over, but I want to know you’re guys’ thought so far,

Beom Tae is definitely gonna make an appearance if I kept going

(I have the rest of the story saved somewhere else hehe).

Lmk if you like it and all,

I know ya’ll want Beom Tae,

but I didn’t want to continue if ya’ll aren’t interested😩🫶

#tears on a withered flower x reader #tears on a withered flower #beom tae ha x reader #na hae soo x reader #na hae soo x reader x beom tae ha #beom tae ha x reader x na hae soo #yuri #girls love #smut #beom tae ha #na hae soo

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