Don’t imagine your bias as a really sweet boyfriend. Don’t imagine coming home to your favorite dinner on the table after a rough day, him smiling proudly as he announces, “My favorite person deserves to have their favorite meal, made from scratch, of course.” (You can see the takeout boxes from your favorite restaurant on the kitchen counter, but you kindly let it slide because the effort was his, even if the food wasn’t). Don’t imagine him leaving little notes for you to find while he’s away on tour, in the pages of your favorite book (”I love you so much, my jagi! Enjoy your book… again ^^”), at the bottom of the mug you always use (”Good morning, beautiful! Can’t wait to come home and enjoy breakfast with you again.”), even tucked in your nightstand (”Sweet dreams, jagiya. I’ll be back soon to watch dramas before bed and cuddle in no time.”). Don’t imagine him attacking you with kisses every chance he gets, wrapping you in his arms and peppering your eyelids, nose, forehead, chin, and lips with tiny smooches, interspersed with “I love you”s and “You’re so cute”s.
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You could hear [BiasName]’s voice, echo through the house, past the walls, into your room. You had isolated yourself from him. The only person you had contact with was yourself. Literally, yourself. You had placed yourself in front of a mirror, without any clothes, just underwear. You had scanned the reflection numerous times. You counted so many problems, you saw so many imperfections.
“Jagi?!” He was outside the door.
“I’m not eating tonight!” You replied.
The door opened, “YOOO! Are we getting some tonight?!”
You stayed quiet. Your silence made it clear to him that there was a mood, but it certainly wasn’t that mood.
“Jagi… What’s wrong?” He asked. You saw his reflection appear gradually behind you. He raised his arms to wrap them around you, but you shook your head.
“Don’t.” You couldn’t stand to see him touch something you believed was vile and embarrassing.
“What are you doing?” His voice was worried.
“How could you look at me?” You replied, your voice revealing weakness in every word. “I’m disgusting.”
[BiasName] watched fresh tears roll down old tear tracks. “Jagi… what are you talking about?”
“I DON’T HAVE THE SAME BODY SHAPE AS THOSE MODELS YOU WORK WITH OKAY?!” You sighed, exasperatedly. “THEYRE SO BEAUTIFUL AND I’M SO….”
“Don’t you dare say it. Don’t say it.” He whispered assertively. “How dare you. How could you.”
[BiasName]’s arms caged you in a warm, fragile hug. “How could you believe in things that aren’t true? You’re so beautiful Jagi. Prettier than all the other girls.”
“I’m not, [BiasName]!” You retorted. “You don’t understand!”
“Of course I understand! How could you assume that I don’t. Every day I feel inadequate, that I’m just another money-maker with no actual talent! Every day I am reminded that I’m not enough, that I need to do better. Every day I have to deal with the pressures of being so perfect all the time. I have to set example now!” He cried, clutching you together to his own quivering chest. You felt his grip loosen as he began to speak again. “But I know that I’m enough. I must be enough if I have someone like you by my side, getting through my hardships. Thats why I love you okay? Because I can so easily live with the expectation. I know what you are going through, and I will help you.” He pushed your shoulders back his arm-length to see your face clearly. “Hey, if you wanna do something about your body image, I’m here okay? I’ll help you – we’ll get through this together, okay jagi?”
You wiped away the tears and nodded.
“Now that you’ve got me excited, I’d say that dinner can wait.”
Woah, 3 in one day!!! Haha~ I’ve been busy (but really no life.)
Heres another installment in the my new series FTW (For those with/who), this ones about curvy girlies - like me. And although I’ve read alot of fanfics that surround this topic, i feel as if they dont really satisfy me or make me feel better about myself just because someone ‘supposedly’ loves me. For some reason I imagined jungkook doing this, hmm. So please enjoy it, theres more to come.
So… I tried doing the #three word prompt thing, but failed
so instead, I did the #two topic prompt. My friend chose neck hugs, and clothing. From that I gathered my three words and
Optional Bias (obviously)
It was days like these when you could just relish in his
warmth, the feeling of his arms embracing you.
Even if he weren’t there standing next to you, you could
feel as if he was always there.
It was as if those arms were around you at all times, and
you felt safe that way.
You always have it on you, around you. Giving it back every
once in a while for a refresher.
It was the horribly large thing, a dreadful navy blue, but
the fabric was used just to the point of supreme softness.
“I don’t know whether I should be upset that I lost a good
jacket, or happy because you look so cute!” and he wrapped his arms your neck
in a tight hug, sniffing your hair before planting multiple kisses on your
To this day you don’t take it off, and he always nags about
stealing it back.
But you love it so much; you refuse to let it go.
Same goes for him.
He was a sneaker head. He cared for
those shoes more than you ever could.
Sad, but true.
Most shopping trips included him
stopping to pick up a pair of J’s, and gloating all the way home.
The closet was full of boxes, with
shoes probably only worn two or three times. So it was rather annoying how he
would whine whenever you refuse to go to the mall with him.
“Please, jagiya! One more pair!
Just one more pair, I promise!”
Then he would give you the
signature pout and puppy eyes, so how could you refuse?
Hours upon hours you two would
spend looking, for a pair of damn shoes.
He was like a bunny, the way he got
“Jagi, look at these!” “Oh what
about these!” “Yeobo, these would look great on you!”
Every once and a while, he would
show you a pair that caught your eye, but he would get excited again, and after
a kiss on the nose, and a hug around your neck, he flew off in another
But hey, that long in a huge shoe
palace, you were bound to find something for yourself.
just didn’t notice until he saw that you two were matching.
He hardly ever wore hats around
you. He knew too well at this point.
Honestly, you rarely wore hats
either. But when he would wear them, he
just looked so good. And you couldn’t help but amuse yourself by snatching
it off his head and wearing it yourself.
He would chase you around, laughing
while trying to grab his hat back.
“But it looks so great on me!” you
would say, slowing down your pace. You would give in to the smirk he wore,
almost giving it back so easily.
“You’re right, it does.” And he
would get closer to you like always, adjusting the hat backwards on your head,
so he could lean down and kiss you, his hands on your waist.
And it would only last a second
before you would pull back.
“So what you’re saying is that I
can keep it?” You would giggle a little, wearing a genuine smile while you
He would just shake his head, grinning
“I guess so…” and he would grab you
by the neck, pulling you into a hug before slinking his arm around you
shoulder, walking back to wherever you two were before he started chasing you.