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misc.
about me
minors dni.
despite most of my writing being fluff and safe for all ages, there are occasions where i do write 18+ content & my reblogs, as well. not only that, i am also an adult and am not comfortable w/ interacting with minors.
on that note, all my work is intended for fictional purposes, in ways that means no harm to others. if my work is offensive in any way, please message me and be respectful.
SAFE FOR EVERYONE
this blog is a safe place for everyone for all groups. while i primarily write through the female perspective, as that is something i am most familiar and comfortable with, i will not tolerate any discrimination or hate to any BIPOC or 2SLGBTQIA+ groups. behaviour of such will be blocked and removed, alongside any comments made.
i do NOT use ai of any kind for any of my writing. all my work is original, and may be inspired by whatever i see on my for you page. on that note, if i am inspired, i will link the videos/blogs/stories/content that i've taken inspiration from.
all MIRALINA's work is original and ai is NOT used.
ive been fighting for my life against writers block... BUT BESIDES THAT - v8's album is so good i lowkey havent stopped humming to singasong ever since the teaser dropped... and it didnt get any better...
MIRA HAVE YOU SEEN THE WOOZI MILITARY UPDATE THE ONE WHERE HE'S GOING DOWN THE STAIRS UGHHHHHHHHH
YES I DIDDD I MISS HIM SMMM
but lowkey between you, me, and the rest of the people who are seeing this... im kinda not a fan of the clips people take of the members in service </3 its just a me thing, but im still so happy that hes doing good !!
STOP YES I AMMM IM STILL ALIVE 😭😭 my laptop broke a dew days ago, so it only got recently fixed + i started a full time job so im exhausted... (im prob gonna leave it if i get a better one because lowkey... its kinda sucky)
context: after being apart of your boyfriend for so long... he's finally reaching the end of his military service - and it was the last two weeks that is finally bringing you the comfort that he's about to return
pairing: yoon jeonghan x f!reader
genre: sweet, sweet, comfort fluff
warnings: none. i dont even think there's swearing in this
author's notes: hes almost back hes almost back hes almost back hes almost back hes almost back
m. list | join the taglist | requests: open ♡
The phone rings at exactly 8:30 PM.
Your lips curve into a bright smile, propping up your device on the desk as you swipe to pick up.
Your boyfriend's face illuminates the screen, where you see him wearing a plain white shirt, a lazy smile on his face, and his eyes entirely focused on his own phone screen.
"Hi, love," Jeonghan wipes clean his camera, making sure that you got the best view of him.
"Hey, Hannie!" you put your pen down, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. "You look exhausted."
Jeonghan chuckles, shaking his head, "Don't worry too much about it. There's just a bunch of paperwork I gotta fill out."
"And you should be doing them, Hannie," you laugh, looking down at your own work that you've been struggling to complete for hours now. "Want someone to keep you company?"
"To talk? Yes. To work? No. I don't want to work," he leans back on his couch, raising the phone up along with him. "Oh? Are you going out tomorrow?"
"Hm? How'd you know?"
"I see your outfit hanging on your closet in the back," he comments, making you turn your head. He caught you red-handed, where a nice, pale white dress and cardigan hangs near your closet. "Where are you going, love?"
You quietly make your way to your clothes, taking them off the hook and bringing it closer to the camera, "A date with your sister."
"Eh?"
"Yup!" you take in how the dress looks underneath the lamp light of your desk. "She invited me to get food since it's been a while since I saw her."
"Ah..." Jeonghan bites the inside of his cheek with a small look of disappointment. "Is the dress new?"
"Got it today!" you respond, running your hand against the nice, soft, fabric of the dress. "We're going to be matching. See? Isn't it cute?" you pick up the hat that laid on your bed, putting it on to let the lace of the sun hat fall over your face.
Jeonghan smiles, staring at you through the screen of his phone. "You look beautiful."
"We'll send you a ton of selfies, don't worry, Hannie," you promise him, hanging the dress back. "And I have these heels that I got that matches the outfit perfectly, and I know exactly how I'll be doing my makeup..." you continue to go on and on about your plans for the next day, where your boyfriend pays so close attention to your words that it also seems like you were a goddess speaking to him.
Eventually, you climb into your bed, covering yourself with your blanket - phone still in hand. Jeonghan does the same, a soft yawn escaping his mouth as you tell him about your day.
"And then I got tea with Minghao and Dokyeom because they got worried that I would be crying myself to sleep or something like that, but I'm pretty sure it was Dokyeom that was going through it more than I was," you recount your story with laughter. "It wasn't even that important, I swear."
"You still lost the bracelet, though," Jeonghan protests. "When I get back, I'll get you a new one."
"Hannie," you drag out his name with an exasperated sigh. "If I've already turned down all of your guys, I'm going to turn down you, too."
"Said that about the whole relationship thing two years ago, and yet here we are," he teases.
"That's because you were relentless! Wouldn't leave me alone."
"Hey, I courted you pretty well, if you ask me."
"Hm... Sure..." you snicker. "If I ask the others, will they say the same thing now?"
"Ooh, perhaps," he nods his head with the same look in his eyes as whenever he's about to cheat his own teammates. "Just make sure you ask the right people."
"The right people... I don't think you're talking about your members," a snicker leaves you. "You know, if I'm late tomorrow because I overslept, your sister is going to kill you."
"Kill me? For talking to my own girlfriend?" he muses. "Tell her to stop going to the beach so often instead. I know the sun is nice and it's summer, but she should explore areas out of the beach more."
"You nag her too much. Let the kid breathe, Hannie."
"That kid is 23 this year."
"And you're 30~"
"Okay, stop attacking my age!" he laughs, throwing his head back against his bed frame. "I still look the youngest on the team."
You raise your eyebrow, "Last I checked, that topic alone caused a rift between you, Cheol, and Shua."
"What rift?" he fakes innocence in his voice. "We're super duper close."
"The last time you sent Cheol a text was two weeks ago, and you see Shua at the company building rather than text him."
"Okay, that's because he never responds anyways. It's way faster to simply go find him instead of spamming his messages," Jeonghan claims with a snicker. "Seriously, check the last time you had to text Shua. Bet he still hasn't responded."
"Nope, last night he responded to me," you swipe on your phone, checking your direct messages with the youngest of the 95z line. "I asked about a lunch recommendation in L.A. and he responded."
"Why does he respond to everyone except his own members?!"
"Because he sees you guys every other day," you state the obvious. "It's not like us where we can't see each other as often because of your schedules and mine."
And that's the harsh truth in the fun of it all. While your boyfriend was able to take a break from the idol life and the constant cameras on him, he had to sacrifice seeing you every day at the apartment.
"I miss you, angel," he confesses in the silence, letting his phone flop down against his pillow.
You smile, hearing the absolute sincerity in his voice. "I know."
"I'll be back soon."
"Only two weeks left."
"Just wait for me. I'll be home before you know it."
there’s something about quiet afternoons that feels earned.
maybe it’s the way the sunlight spills lazily across the backyard—honey-thick and warm, but not overwhelming.
maybe it’s the soft hum of the neighborhood slowing down just enough for you to actually hear yourself think.
or maybe, just maybe, it’s the fact that for the first time in forty-eight hours, no one is screaming for a snack.
just you. your plants. and a rare, golden pocket of peace.
you’re hunched over your favorite monstera, tilting the watering can with the kind of precision usually reserved for heart surgery. you’d raised this thing from a sad, two-leafed clearance rack find into a lush, towering masterpiece. honestly, you were a little too emotionally attached to it.
“you’re doing so well,” you murmur, thumbing a waxy green leaf. “look at you. thriving.”
“you say that to all of them.”
the voice is low, raspy with the remnants of a nap. you glance over your shoulder to find vernon leaning against the sliding door frame. his hair is a mess of static and sleep, his hoodie pulled up slightly at the sleeves, and his phone is gripped loosely in one hand—forgotten. he’s got that lazy, half-lidded smile on his face. the one that says he’s been standing there, just watching you, for longer than he’d care to admit.
“don’t be jealous, hansol,” you shoot back, eyes crinkling. “you get compliments too.”
“not like that,” he hums, stepping onto the grass. the cool blades tickle his bare feet. “you’ve never called me lush and thriving.”
you snort, turning back to your plants. “do you want me to start?”
he actually pauses to consider it, nodding with fake gravity. “yeah. i think it would help my confidence.”
before you can come up with a devastatingly cheesy retort, a much smaller, much higher voice cuts through the air.
“mama!”
the peace doesn’t shatter—it just shifts.
your daughter is standing five feet away, clutching her tiny, neon-pink watering can like it’s a holy relic. her pigtails are coming undone, cheeks flushed pink from the sun, and she has that look of fierce determination that she definitely inherited from her father.
“look!” she beams, pointing a chubby finger downward.
you walk over, your heart doing that weird, soft ache it only does for her. she’s pointing at her tomato plant. it’s a bit scraggly and leaning slightly to the left, but it’s alive.
“wow,” you breathe, crouching down. “did you do this all by yourself?”
she nods so hard her pigtails bounce. “it was thirsty! i gave it a big drink.”
vernon drops into a crouch beside her, resting his chin on his palm. he inspects the damp soil with exaggerated, scholarly seriousness. “hmm. yes. excellent saturation. a very well-hydrated specimen.”
she giggles, leaning into his side. “i told it to grow big and strong. like daddy.”
vernon’s entire face softens—the kind of look he only saves for her. “smart kid,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple.
the moment is perfect. it’s a picture-frame moment.
until you feel it.
splat.
a sudden, cold shock of water hits your forearm. you freeze. slowly, you turn your head to see your daughter standing there, her pink watering can tilted, a look of pure, accidental shock on her face.
a beat of silence passes.
“...did you just water me?” you ask.
her eyes go wide. then, she catches vernon’s stifled grin. she realizes it’s a game. she gasps, dissolving into a fit of belly-clutching giggles.
“that looked pretty intentional to me,” vernon says, his voice full of mischief.
“vernon,” you warn, narrowing your eyes.
he holds up his hands, retreating. “hey, i’m just a witness. i don’t make the rules.”
you look back at your daughter, who is now clutching her watering can like it’s a weapon.
“…okay,” you say slowly, setting your own can down. “if that’s how it is.”
her eyes light up.
you grab the hose—
“mama!” she shrieks, sprinting across the grass as a light mist trails after her. she’s fast, but she’s laughing too hard to make a clean getaway.
“you started it!” you call out, laughing as you track her movement.
“daddy, help!” she screams, beelining straight for vernon’s legs.
vernon barely has time to brace himself before she’s using him as a human shield. “wow,” he grunts as she clings to his knees.
“i’ve been drafted into the infantry.”
“protect me!” she squeals.
vernon looks at you, his eyes sparkling. he’s supposed to be the adult. he’s supposed to be the voice of reason. but this is vernon.
“i don’t know,” he muses, looking down at her. “what’s in it for me?”
“daddy!”
“okay, okay,” he laughs, shielding her with his body. he looks at you with mock-sternness. “i’m afraid i can’t let you proceed, ma’am. this is a protected zone.”
“you’re really picking a side?” you challenge, the hose nozzle twitching in your hand.
“i’m choosing the side with the cutest commander.”
you don't hesitate. you pivot the hose and soak his shins.
“hey!” he shouts, jumping back, his laughter echoing yours. he’s drenched in seconds, his shirt clinging to his chest, hair starting to flatten against his forehead.
it’s a full-blown war now.
vernon abandons his "observer" status and grabs the nearest bucket. your daughter runs back and forth between you, playing double agent—sometimes "helping" you hold the hose, only to turn around and splash your legs with her watering can.
vernon’s laugh is loud and unfiltered, filling the backyard as he dodges a spray of water, nearly tripping over a lawn gnome. he looks younger like this—carefree and glowing.
“okay, okay! truce! white flag!” he yells eventually, breathless and dripping.
you click the hose off, chest heaving, water dripping from your nose. “truce?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously.
he walks over, his sneakers squelching in the grass, and pulls your daughter into his arms. “truce,” he confirms, tucking her head under his chin.
the garden is a swamp. your clothes are ruined. your hair is a disaster.
your daughter looks between the two of you, a giant, gap-toothed grin on her face. “...again?”
you and vernon answer in perfect unison, “no.”
she pouts.
you laugh, stepping forward to brush a wet strand of hair from her face. “maybe tomorrow, sweetheart.”
vernon wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you into the damp, messy huddle. he smells like rain and sun-warmed cotton. he leans down, pressing a wet, cold kiss to your cheek.
“you know,” he whispers, looking at the mess of the garden and the shivering, happy child in his arms. “you were right.”
imagine you're on a picnic date and chan's doing his dumb pi cheolin impression and you're giggling at him because he's just so ADORABLE, and you catch his shirt and lean in and kiss him halfway through his sentence. he kisses back immediately, it's a gut response at this point, and you can FEEL the tension fade from the muscles in his face as he drops the persona. he presses closer, lowering you gently to the picnic blanket with a hand at your back, but once you're there he pulls away. he's still wearing the sunglasses. they're a little crooked now, and he reaches to fix them, but you beat him to it and push them up into his hair. his surprised eyes blink down at you. "but i was gonna do the --" "i'm not kissing a fifty-year-old-man," you warn, and all the protests fade as he dips down and captures your lips again -- as chan, not pi cheolin. (pi cheolin could never move the way chan does.)
