come on baby blue, shake up your tired eyes the world is waiting for you
come on baby blue, shake up your tired eyes the world is waiting for you
han geng/heechul, super junior.
2,354 words, pg-13.
summary: parenting can change a man.
→ this is once again a fic dedicated to laeryn! happy birthday, honey! hope you don't mind the terrible fluff and the lack of plot!
Han Geng knew that house hunting wouldn’t be easy but damn, he didn’t think it would be this hard.
It goes like this:
There’s a really nice house in Busan that they visit one Friday afternoon, complete with a bow window overlooking the sea and a large master bedroom upstairs with crème carpeting, but Heechul frowns and crosses his arms over his chest.
“What if there’s a tsunami? And think about the sand flying into the house when it’s windy, into your shoes, your hair, even. And the raging waves mere meters away from the walls whenever there’s a storm and- we’ll probably die at a very young age if we live here,” he sniffs and pauses for good measure, “we are never, ever, living here. Or anywhere by the sea, actually.”
The next one they visit is right in the middle of Seoul and Heechul claims that it’s not the right one either.
“There’s too much noise and the pollution really isn’t good for Wenjing’s health,” he points at their daughter, peacefully sleeping in Han Geng’s arms, and goes on, “do you really want our daughter to grow up in this environment? Do you?”
He takes a menacing tone and narrows his eyes but Han Geng doesn’t even get the chance to reply that they already live in the center of Seoul so what’s the point because as if on cue, Wenjing stirs in his arms at this very precise moment and starts crying.
“See, she doesn’t like it either,” Heechul says triumphantly.
They visit another one up in the mountains and Heechul explains in a careful voice that a landslide might happen anytime. Han Geng just sighs heavily and stays silent for the rest of their ride back home, lips pressed tight. Heechul sits in the backseat and doesn’t notice anything, too busy playing with Wenjing’s tiny feet and babbling non-sense to her.
It’s funny, Han Geng thinks, because when he first met Heechul, he would have never thought of him as someone who’d be great with kids but the truth is, Heechul is amazing. He changes diapers and wakes up at 3.30am in the morning to feed her and paces around their small apartment for hours until she stops crying and falls asleep in his arms, drooling on his shoulder - and he doesn’t even care about the whole drooling thing. Kim Heechul, the guy who never let anyone near any of his belongings back in the days and threatened to strangle you in your sleep if you ever did, is totally confortable with his favorite t-shirt having drool stains.
*
“Heechul,” Han Geng tries cautiously that evening, “we can’t live here forever, you know. Don’t you think that house in Busan was perfect? I mean, it wasn’t that far from the airport for when you need to fly back to Seoul for your MC gigs and you have to admit the view was amazing and-”
“Alright, alright, I see what you’re trying to do here. But believe me, it wasn’t the right one. I promise you we’ll find the ideal one soon.”
And yeah, it better be soon because Wenjing’s crib can’t stay in the living room of their flat forever and Han Geng’s tired of the way too small kitchen and the cramped bathroom. The flat had been enough for them at a time - when Super Junior had just disbanded and they could have been happy with living anywhere but in a dorm surrounded by half a dozen of other boys - but it just didn’t fit anymore now that Wenjing had entered their world.
*
It takes a few mores weeks but Han Geng finally convinces Heechul to buy the house in Busan, after much sweet-talk, promises of taking care of the grocery shopping for the next three weeks and other bribes. Heechul still tries to argue that he’s only agreeing because it’s the only one he can tolerate, not because he actually likes it - but then Han Geng sees him sitting on the windowsill of the bow window, looking out to the ocean as he holds Wenjing in his arms, and the whole scene definitely feels too clichéd but Han Geng smiles anyway.
“Yah, come here and help me with these cardboard boxes, I’m doing all the work!”
“Sorry, I can’t. I’m having some father-daughter time,” Heechul pouts at him, holding Wenjing a bit closer in his arms, “besides, it’s not like you’re on your own, Siwon’s going to arrive any minute now.”
Siwon had been the one to call and offer his help for the moving when they had announced it, claiming that since he lived in Ulsan it would be ridiculous not to come over to help.
“Fine,” Han Geng consents as he carefully makes his way up the stairs, cardboard boxes precariously balanced in his arms.
*
(There are things that Han Geng remembers, sometimes. Nights spent practicing, Heechul hovering over him eyeliner in hand before Super Shows, the sound of fourteen other boys laughing on stage, stumbling backstage breathless, bone-crushing hugs and- he casts a glance at Heechul who’s bottle-feeding Wenjing and thinks that they’ve sure come a long way.)
*
They throw a house-warming party a couple of weeks later.
Siwon comes with his wife and their twin sons who are only seven months older than Wenjing and insists that one of them is bound to marry Wenjing one of these days. Heechul thinks he’s insane and gets closer to her crib preventively.
“That would be cute,” Han Geng says, laughing.
“No, no, no. That would be anything but cute. I vote against this whole idea,” Heechul says defensively.
Siwon smiles and leans in to whisper to Han Geng.
“Fatherhood has changed him, right? Back in the days he would always be the first to play matchmaker for everyone including people he had never met.”
Han Geng nods in agreement.
Zhou Mi carefully takes Wenjing into his arms and lets her wrap her minuscule hand around his index finger. Kyuhyun falls in love all over again when he sees him and he wraps his arms around his waist from behind, pressing himself against his back and, standing on his tiptoes, whispers into Zhou Mi’s hear, “I love you.”
“What was that for?” Zhou Mi asks after Han Geng has picked up Wenjing to get her back into her crib.
“Nothing,” Kyuhyun hums.
*
Heechul swears that Han Geng’s eyes light up whenever he’s carrying they daughter in his arms, singing lullabies in Mandarin as he paces up and down the living room.
They hope that she picks up both languages - to compensate for Heechul’s inability to grasp Mandarin and Han Geng’s ever-so- relevant struggle with Korean.
They hope for a lot of things, determined to be the greatest fathers ever and to raise a well-balanced little girl.
Kyuhyun snorts when he hears that. “Really, hyung,” and Heechul knows that he’s only using the honorific to mock him, “do you really think that it’s possible for you, of all people, to raise a well-balanced human being?” Han Geng smacks the back of his head and tells him to shut up. “Watch and learn, Cho Kyuhyun. Maybe one day your day will come too.” Heechul snaps back as he grabs a bottle from the fridge with one hand and holds Wenjing against his chest with the other.
*
(Years later, Heechul can’t stop laughing when Kyuhyun calls him in the middle of the night, panicked voice and heavy breathing over the phone. “Yimei just won’t stop crying and Zhou Mi’s away in China and I’m alone at the flat and ohmygod WHAT DO I DO.” There’s nothing but silence coming from the other side of the line and Kyuhyun murmurs in a small voice: “… Hyung, help me.” Heechul decides that Kyuhyun really is desperate for help when he begins begging Heechul using formal language and “hyung”s in his speech.)
*
“Daddy, I have a secret,” Wenjing tells Heechul when she’s seven. “Changhyun’s my boyfriend and we’re going to get married.”
She’s got that adorable smile on her face - the one she gets when Heechul comes back home after a week away filming in Seoul and she runs across the living-room to jump into his arms or when Han Geng cooks her favorite dish - and Heechul tries hard to fight against the horrified look that’s probably spreading on his face.
“This is all Siwon’s fault!” Heechul screams later when he recounts the whole story to Han Geng who can only laugh and laugh as Heechul grabs the phone.
“Choi Siwon, please tell your son to break up with my daughter as promptly as possible. They can’t be together and will never be, no matter what. How can you accept such a thing.” He doesn’t even bother adopting an interrogative tone, choosing to snort louder than necessary in the mouthpiece.
"Oh come on, don’t you think it’s cute?”
Heechul hangs up on him and throws a cushion across the bedroom. Han Geng stares at him with a disapproving look and sighs.
“I thought I was done with your stupid tantrums… Clearly not,” he rolls his eyes, “Besides, weren’t you the first to say that you wanted to raise a, I quote, “well-balanced girl”? Well, big news, interactions with other human beings can help with that!”
Heechul looks like he’s going to either faint or murder someone.
“But, but… She’s only seven years old. And this is Siwon’s son we’re talking about. It’s a matter of months until he starts taking his t-shirt off whenever he gets the occasion and-”
Han Geng throws the cushion at Heechul’s head.
“You’re stupid,” he says in Mandarin, both to catch Heechul’s attention and annoy him a bit more, “they’re both seven years old and probably just holding hands between classes and sharing their candies or something as cute as that. It’s good to be protective but not this much, you know?” Heechul blinks at him. “Besides, she is your daughter so you’re not really in the best place to give me crap about how Changhyun is Siwon’s son and how that makes him a potential… threat for Wenjing or whatever that twisted brain of yours is thinking.”
“Oh dear, I’ll do whatever you want if it means that you’ll never lecture me in Mandarin ever again.” Heechul deadpans. “Consider this as a proof of my love for you that I’d rather hear your atrocious Korean rather than-”
Han Geng shuts him up with a kiss and even after all those years, he has to admit that it’s still the best technique he’s ever found to stop Heechul from talking even more non-sense.
*
Oh my god they’re doing it again, Heechul thinks as he enters the dining-room and sees Heechul and Wenjing chattering away in Mandarin.
“I’ll be blaming you if Wenjing ends up with a very poor Korean and isn’t accepted into any university here and therefore that we have to send her away to China,” he shudders at the last word, always the master of exaggeration.
They both laugh at his face and Wenjing says something to him in a perfectly accented Mandarin that makes Han Geng laugh even more.
“What did you say? Repeat that in Korean, Wenjing, please. Han Geng, please tell me what she said.” They go on laughing and laughing and Heechul wants to rip his hair out. “I hate you both.”
*
Heechul decides that he has to do something about this situation and so he calls the only person he knows has a mind as evil as his. He needs a plan to get his daughter back and, frankly, it’s been a while since he last plotted some twisted revenge plan.
“Kyuhyun, my favorite dongsaeng, how are you these days? I need your help, I’m in a very delicate situation. You see, Han Geng’s trying to steal away my daughter.”
“I’m sorry Heechul but as much as I’d love to hear about this I can’t help you. Yimei has a piano recital tonight and I’m extremely busy helping her rehearse.”
There’s not an ounce of irony or sarcasm in Kyuhyun’s voice and he sounds so gleeful that Heechul wonders with fear if parenthood did the same amount of damage to him.
*
When Wenjing graduates from university - Yonsei, with a Bachelor of Arts in Chinese language and literature - her parents are as nervous as they were before their debut which happened what now seems like centuries ago. Heechul sheds a tear when he sees his daughter wearing her graduation gown and cap and promptly cries when she’s called on stage to retrieve her diploma. After all, he thinks, maybe all that supposed damage wasn’t that bad because he’s never felt so happy and proud before.
*
(“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, someday.” Heechul mumbles in Han Geng’s chest, fingers stroking his collarbones lazily.
“You too,” Han Geng whispers back in the darkness of their bedroom.
“No, no, I’d suck. I can’t even take care of myself properly, I snap at people on a daily, no, hourly, basis, I can’t cook to save my life, I-”
“You’ll be a great father,” Han Geng says again and Heechul looks up at him with wide eyes because Han Geng will always be the only one daring to stand up to him and go through with his own opinions, no matter how stubborn Heechul gets.)
*
There’s a picture they keep on their fridge, held up with an old Super Junior magnet which probably used to be a prized fangood at some point in time. It’s old and yellow-ish from the sunrays coming from the bow-window.
Wenjing’s in the middle, wearing a Pororo hat and looking as adorable as ever. Beside her are Heechul and Han Geng, one on either of her sides, both wearing bright smiles on their faces. On the back of the picture, Wenjing’s scrawny handwriting can be read, one line in Hangul and the other in Mandarin, both saying My daddies!!!! Whom I love more than anything in the world. Sometimes, pictures speak louder than words.
→ random qmi because what can i say, #1 otp.
→ apparently i only seem to be able to write hanchul despite them not even being my #1 otp (and i've never written fic for said #1 otp now that i think of it, apart from broken qmi. :|
→ half the fic on this comm is dedicated to laeryn i think... NO REGRETS.
→ happy birthday again, raquel ♥
→ i began writing this on november 9th exactly in the middle of my midterms and the prompt was something along the lines of "hanchul with kids house-hunting and going to ikea". house-hunting happened, ikea did not, sorry! it sat in my wip folder for an eternityyy because i sort of hated it (no plot, too fluffy - i only do angst usually - and poiiiintless) and then i decided to finish it for someone's birthday :DDD here it is.
→ inspiration for this fic: #1 / #2 / oasis’ "let there be love" for the title and the general fluffy-all-is-well-in-the-best-of-worlds atmosphere
→ WHERE IS THE ANGST IN THIS, I WONDER. brb trying to find time to write angst again é_è
han geng/heechul, super junior.
2,354 words, pg-13.
summary: parenting can change a man.
→ this is once again a fic dedicated to laeryn! happy birthday, honey! hope you don't mind the terrible fluff and the lack of plot!
Han Geng knew that house hunting wouldn’t be easy but damn, he didn’t think it would be this hard.
It goes like this:
There’s a really nice house in Busan that they visit one Friday afternoon, complete with a bow window overlooking the sea and a large master bedroom upstairs with crème carpeting, but Heechul frowns and crosses his arms over his chest.
“What if there’s a tsunami? And think about the sand flying into the house when it’s windy, into your shoes, your hair, even. And the raging waves mere meters away from the walls whenever there’s a storm and- we’ll probably die at a very young age if we live here,” he sniffs and pauses for good measure, “we are never, ever, living here. Or anywhere by the sea, actually.”
The next one they visit is right in the middle of Seoul and Heechul claims that it’s not the right one either.
“There’s too much noise and the pollution really isn’t good for Wenjing’s health,” he points at their daughter, peacefully sleeping in Han Geng’s arms, and goes on, “do you really want our daughter to grow up in this environment? Do you?”
He takes a menacing tone and narrows his eyes but Han Geng doesn’t even get the chance to reply that they already live in the center of Seoul so what’s the point because as if on cue, Wenjing stirs in his arms at this very precise moment and starts crying.
“See, she doesn’t like it either,” Heechul says triumphantly.
They visit another one up in the mountains and Heechul explains in a careful voice that a landslide might happen anytime. Han Geng just sighs heavily and stays silent for the rest of their ride back home, lips pressed tight. Heechul sits in the backseat and doesn’t notice anything, too busy playing with Wenjing’s tiny feet and babbling non-sense to her.
It’s funny, Han Geng thinks, because when he first met Heechul, he would have never thought of him as someone who’d be great with kids but the truth is, Heechul is amazing. He changes diapers and wakes up at 3.30am in the morning to feed her and paces around their small apartment for hours until she stops crying and falls asleep in his arms, drooling on his shoulder - and he doesn’t even care about the whole drooling thing. Kim Heechul, the guy who never let anyone near any of his belongings back in the days and threatened to strangle you in your sleep if you ever did, is totally confortable with his favorite t-shirt having drool stains.
*
“Heechul,” Han Geng tries cautiously that evening, “we can’t live here forever, you know. Don’t you think that house in Busan was perfect? I mean, it wasn’t that far from the airport for when you need to fly back to Seoul for your MC gigs and you have to admit the view was amazing and-”
“Alright, alright, I see what you’re trying to do here. But believe me, it wasn’t the right one. I promise you we’ll find the ideal one soon.”
And yeah, it better be soon because Wenjing’s crib can’t stay in the living room of their flat forever and Han Geng’s tired of the way too small kitchen and the cramped bathroom. The flat had been enough for them at a time - when Super Junior had just disbanded and they could have been happy with living anywhere but in a dorm surrounded by half a dozen of other boys - but it just didn’t fit anymore now that Wenjing had entered their world.
*
It takes a few mores weeks but Han Geng finally convinces Heechul to buy the house in Busan, after much sweet-talk, promises of taking care of the grocery shopping for the next three weeks and other bribes. Heechul still tries to argue that he’s only agreeing because it’s the only one he can tolerate, not because he actually likes it - but then Han Geng sees him sitting on the windowsill of the bow window, looking out to the ocean as he holds Wenjing in his arms, and the whole scene definitely feels too clichéd but Han Geng smiles anyway.
“Yah, come here and help me with these cardboard boxes, I’m doing all the work!”
“Sorry, I can’t. I’m having some father-daughter time,” Heechul pouts at him, holding Wenjing a bit closer in his arms, “besides, it’s not like you’re on your own, Siwon’s going to arrive any minute now.”
Siwon had been the one to call and offer his help for the moving when they had announced it, claiming that since he lived in Ulsan it would be ridiculous not to come over to help.
“Fine,” Han Geng consents as he carefully makes his way up the stairs, cardboard boxes precariously balanced in his arms.
*
(There are things that Han Geng remembers, sometimes. Nights spent practicing, Heechul hovering over him eyeliner in hand before Super Shows, the sound of fourteen other boys laughing on stage, stumbling backstage breathless, bone-crushing hugs and- he casts a glance at Heechul who’s bottle-feeding Wenjing and thinks that they’ve sure come a long way.)
*
They throw a house-warming party a couple of weeks later.
Siwon comes with his wife and their twin sons who are only seven months older than Wenjing and insists that one of them is bound to marry Wenjing one of these days. Heechul thinks he’s insane and gets closer to her crib preventively.
“That would be cute,” Han Geng says, laughing.
“No, no, no. That would be anything but cute. I vote against this whole idea,” Heechul says defensively.
Siwon smiles and leans in to whisper to Han Geng.
“Fatherhood has changed him, right? Back in the days he would always be the first to play matchmaker for everyone including people he had never met.”
Han Geng nods in agreement.
Zhou Mi carefully takes Wenjing into his arms and lets her wrap her minuscule hand around his index finger. Kyuhyun falls in love all over again when he sees him and he wraps his arms around his waist from behind, pressing himself against his back and, standing on his tiptoes, whispers into Zhou Mi’s hear, “I love you.”
“What was that for?” Zhou Mi asks after Han Geng has picked up Wenjing to get her back into her crib.
“Nothing,” Kyuhyun hums.
*
Heechul swears that Han Geng’s eyes light up whenever he’s carrying they daughter in his arms, singing lullabies in Mandarin as he paces up and down the living room.
They hope that she picks up both languages - to compensate for Heechul’s inability to grasp Mandarin and Han Geng’s ever-so- relevant struggle with Korean.
They hope for a lot of things, determined to be the greatest fathers ever and to raise a well-balanced little girl.
Kyuhyun snorts when he hears that. “Really, hyung,” and Heechul knows that he’s only using the honorific to mock him, “do you really think that it’s possible for you, of all people, to raise a well-balanced human being?” Han Geng smacks the back of his head and tells him to shut up. “Watch and learn, Cho Kyuhyun. Maybe one day your day will come too.” Heechul snaps back as he grabs a bottle from the fridge with one hand and holds Wenjing against his chest with the other.
*
(Years later, Heechul can’t stop laughing when Kyuhyun calls him in the middle of the night, panicked voice and heavy breathing over the phone. “Yimei just won’t stop crying and Zhou Mi’s away in China and I’m alone at the flat and ohmygod WHAT DO I DO.” There’s nothing but silence coming from the other side of the line and Kyuhyun murmurs in a small voice: “… Hyung, help me.” Heechul decides that Kyuhyun really is desperate for help when he begins begging Heechul using formal language and “hyung”s in his speech.)
*
“Daddy, I have a secret,” Wenjing tells Heechul when she’s seven. “Changhyun’s my boyfriend and we’re going to get married.”
She’s got that adorable smile on her face - the one she gets when Heechul comes back home after a week away filming in Seoul and she runs across the living-room to jump into his arms or when Han Geng cooks her favorite dish - and Heechul tries hard to fight against the horrified look that’s probably spreading on his face.
“This is all Siwon’s fault!” Heechul screams later when he recounts the whole story to Han Geng who can only laugh and laugh as Heechul grabs the phone.
“Choi Siwon, please tell your son to break up with my daughter as promptly as possible. They can’t be together and will never be, no matter what. How can you accept such a thing.” He doesn’t even bother adopting an interrogative tone, choosing to snort louder than necessary in the mouthpiece.
"Oh come on, don’t you think it’s cute?”
Heechul hangs up on him and throws a cushion across the bedroom. Han Geng stares at him with a disapproving look and sighs.
“I thought I was done with your stupid tantrums… Clearly not,” he rolls his eyes, “Besides, weren’t you the first to say that you wanted to raise a, I quote, “well-balanced girl”? Well, big news, interactions with other human beings can help with that!”
Heechul looks like he’s going to either faint or murder someone.
“But, but… She’s only seven years old. And this is Siwon’s son we’re talking about. It’s a matter of months until he starts taking his t-shirt off whenever he gets the occasion and-”
Han Geng throws the cushion at Heechul’s head.
“You’re stupid,” he says in Mandarin, both to catch Heechul’s attention and annoy him a bit more, “they’re both seven years old and probably just holding hands between classes and sharing their candies or something as cute as that. It’s good to be protective but not this much, you know?” Heechul blinks at him. “Besides, she is your daughter so you’re not really in the best place to give me crap about how Changhyun is Siwon’s son and how that makes him a potential… threat for Wenjing or whatever that twisted brain of yours is thinking.”
“Oh dear, I’ll do whatever you want if it means that you’ll never lecture me in Mandarin ever again.” Heechul deadpans. “Consider this as a proof of my love for you that I’d rather hear your atrocious Korean rather than-”
Han Geng shuts him up with a kiss and even after all those years, he has to admit that it’s still the best technique he’s ever found to stop Heechul from talking even more non-sense.
*
Oh my god they’re doing it again, Heechul thinks as he enters the dining-room and sees Heechul and Wenjing chattering away in Mandarin.
“I’ll be blaming you if Wenjing ends up with a very poor Korean and isn’t accepted into any university here and therefore that we have to send her away to China,” he shudders at the last word, always the master of exaggeration.
They both laugh at his face and Wenjing says something to him in a perfectly accented Mandarin that makes Han Geng laugh even more.
“What did you say? Repeat that in Korean, Wenjing, please. Han Geng, please tell me what she said.” They go on laughing and laughing and Heechul wants to rip his hair out. “I hate you both.”
*
Heechul decides that he has to do something about this situation and so he calls the only person he knows has a mind as evil as his. He needs a plan to get his daughter back and, frankly, it’s been a while since he last plotted some twisted revenge plan.
“Kyuhyun, my favorite dongsaeng, how are you these days? I need your help, I’m in a very delicate situation. You see, Han Geng’s trying to steal away my daughter.”
“I’m sorry Heechul but as much as I’d love to hear about this I can’t help you. Yimei has a piano recital tonight and I’m extremely busy helping her rehearse.”
There’s not an ounce of irony or sarcasm in Kyuhyun’s voice and he sounds so gleeful that Heechul wonders with fear if parenthood did the same amount of damage to him.
*
When Wenjing graduates from university - Yonsei, with a Bachelor of Arts in Chinese language and literature - her parents are as nervous as they were before their debut which happened what now seems like centuries ago. Heechul sheds a tear when he sees his daughter wearing her graduation gown and cap and promptly cries when she’s called on stage to retrieve her diploma. After all, he thinks, maybe all that supposed damage wasn’t that bad because he’s never felt so happy and proud before.
*
(“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, someday.” Heechul mumbles in Han Geng’s chest, fingers stroking his collarbones lazily.
“You too,” Han Geng whispers back in the darkness of their bedroom.
“No, no, I’d suck. I can’t even take care of myself properly, I snap at people on a daily, no, hourly, basis, I can’t cook to save my life, I-”
“You’ll be a great father,” Han Geng says again and Heechul looks up at him with wide eyes because Han Geng will always be the only one daring to stand up to him and go through with his own opinions, no matter how stubborn Heechul gets.)
*
There’s a picture they keep on their fridge, held up with an old Super Junior magnet which probably used to be a prized fangood at some point in time. It’s old and yellow-ish from the sunrays coming from the bow-window.
Wenjing’s in the middle, wearing a Pororo hat and looking as adorable as ever. Beside her are Heechul and Han Geng, one on either of her sides, both wearing bright smiles on their faces. On the back of the picture, Wenjing’s scrawny handwriting can be read, one line in Hangul and the other in Mandarin, both saying My daddies!!!! Whom I love more than anything in the world. Sometimes, pictures speak louder than words.
→ random qmi because what can i say, #1 otp.
→ apparently i only seem to be able to write hanchul despite them not even being my #1 otp (and i've never written fic for said #1 otp now that i think of it, apart from broken qmi. :|
→ half the fic on this comm is dedicated to laeryn i think... NO REGRETS.
→ happy birthday again, raquel ♥
→ i began writing this on november 9th exactly in the middle of my midterms and the prompt was something along the lines of "hanchul with kids house-hunting and going to ikea". house-hunting happened, ikea did not, sorry! it sat in my wip folder for an eternityyy because i sort of hated it (no plot, too fluffy - i only do angst usually - and poiiiintless) and then i decided to finish it for someone's birthday :DDD here it is.
→ inspiration for this fic: #1 / #2 / oasis’ "let there be love" for the title and the general fluffy-all-is-well-in-the-best-of-worlds atmosphere
→ WHERE IS THE ANGST IN THIS, I WONDER. brb trying to find time to write angst again é_è