LIMERENCE

The victims of unfair beauty standards.

to the ones that shine golden under the sun.

the ones that reflect golden with jewles adorned around their waist and neck.

on social media, the interpretation of brown and black women have been colonized into this disgusting mindset.

If a Indian women with sparkly eyes and full lips shined, they'll say she is not Indian.

If a Somali women with a small button nose and sharp cheekbones framed her face, they'll say she is not African.

They'll say she is mixed with colonized feautures.

The many that live under the sun, beauty radiaiting, clothes shimmering, bangles clacking with every step.

The aura of cultures glimmer, however dim under their light.

The light they stole. The light they still push onto us.

my clothes wrap around my body as comfort.

a hug of silence as my parents widow the peak of anger.

I'd wish for the arrows of hatred which leaves their mouths to pass.

Hiding kids with mental health issues

Hiding it in corners of stories and whispers.

The one who killed themselves deserved it they say, he was a shame even in his death.

Mississippi Masala (1991)

Pride and Prejudice (2005)

Bridgerton Season 2 (2022)

students worked beneath, some had lives of anger and some were sad.

My life until now I’ve genuinely thought that I was quiet during the happiest times of my life.

I thought that when I was happy nobody else cheered me on or everyone around me was bored.

I realized this is how extroverts feel everyday.

This constant inner battle of feeling like you’re doing something wrong, the constant edge of missing something big.

BRING HER BACK.

BRING THE GIRL WHO FELT GUILT AND LOVED THE WATER WHICH REFLECTED THE SKIES

BRING HER.

THE GIRL WHO CRIED THE SAME TEARS PASSED DOWN FROM HER FATHER.

BRING HER.

Flowing against the tall piles of snow

It flakes the truth

Of my wretched heart

Tall and in the way, that’s how I feel towards the people around me.

Cold and heartless, that’s what my heart shows.

Where’s my motivation, compassion and belief in one.

eyes staring in my soul igniting a fire, neither a flame.

throw it against myself until I lay flat.

Pairings: liveweddingpainter!reader/doctor!jk, shy!reader, whipped!jk

Part 1 - Part 2 final (smut)

Warnings: none really, just heavy making out, future smut.

Summary: She sat their elegantly, her posture straight, her dress fallen down on the floor as a puddle and her eyes swarmed every detail of the beautiful couple on stage, however she didn't know that Jeon Jungkook was focusing on her instead.

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“Please, be respectful!” the maid of honor calls out, her voice cutting through the excited chatter of children crowding around my workspace, drawn to the vibrant colors of paint. “Pink! Pink! Pink!” A little one rushes over and hugs my knee as I sit, and I can’t help but admire their innocent joy.

Worry flickers through me at the thought of paint spilling, but that innocence is so refreshing. My brush glides smoothly as I outline the bride’s diamond crescents, each stroke a testament to the beauty of love—a sacred promise calling for a moment of peace.

“Jungkook, are you listening?” Jimin interrupts, playfully slapping the back of Jungkook's head.

Jungkook flinches, scowling in response, while Jimin laughs, teasing, “You’re not slick, staring at that painting girl.”

Jungkook pouts, leaning back in his chair like a predator poised to pounce. “I wasn’t looking at her; I’m looking at the painting.”

“Then go tell her how good it is! Why tell me?” Jimin smirks, pushing him.

Jungkook sinks deeper into his seat. “No.”

“Go.”

“No. No.”

“Go!” Jimin raises his voice slightly, drawing curious glances from guests at the bride’s table.

“Fine!” Jungkook stands up, adjusting his tie and pushing his hair back, exposing his forehead.

“How long are you gonna stand there, Mr. ‘I’m not looking at her’?”

Jungkook sighs, his posture rigid as he steps forward, determined not to glance back at Jimin, knowing it would only irritate him further. As he approaches, he sees her long, beautiful hair, and his heart sinks into a gentle sigh.

“Hi.” He steps into her space, and she pauses, turning toward him.

All she sees is a tall man with an endearing, giddy expression; his cheeks are round, and his muscular build adds to his charm. He’s adorable.

“You’re painting, it—it’s... uh...” Jungkook stutters, catching a glimpse of her lips curving into a soft smile that sends butterflies through him. “Pretty. Really pretty painting.”

He waits, and she laughs softly, mixing pink on her palette, nodding with eyes that sparkle as they lock onto his.

Jungkook can only return her gaze, laughter bubbling up between them.

In truth, the man before her makes her nervous in the best way possible; she longs to respond but struggles to find the words.

“Um, yeah, let me, uh, nice meeting you... I’ll let you focus,” he says, nervously laughing as he starts to step back.

She smiles warmly, offering a small goodbye, feeling a pang of disappointment as he retreats; his presence was comforting, lingering in her mind as she paints.

“That was one minute, Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t even get her number,” Jimin scolds him.

“Why were you watching?” Jungkook scoffs, a hint of embarrassment creeping in.

“It was painful,” Jimin replies with a dramatic sigh.

Jungkook remains still, eyes fixed on the mysterious girl throughout the wedding, lost in thought until she begins to gather her things to leave.

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As the scene shifts, Jungkook finds himself in a hospital, where the weight of his responsibilities is palpable.

“Which bone is this?” he asks his shadowing student, whose voice trembles under the intensity of Jungkook's gaze.

“Uh, the femur, doctor,” the student stutters.

“Good.” Jungkook’s tone is sharp but fair.

“Doctor Jeon, a new patient has a broken leg.”

“What’s her status?” he inquires, quickening his pace.

“She’s stable, but in a lot of pain.”

“Let’s get her some relief,” he replies, determination fueling his steps.

As he enters the patient’s room, time seems to freeze; the air thickens, and his breath catches as he sees her—the painter girl, her smile radiant despite the injury, a spark of recognition lighting her eyes.

Jungkook gently removed the cuff from around his neck and approached the enigmatic painter girl, extending his hand for a shake.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Jeon," he said, captivated by the warmth of her touch and the sweet scent of cinnamon that seemed to linger in the air around her. It was a comforting aroma that reminded him of cozy afternoons spent in cafés.

"I'm ___," she replied softly, her voice wrapping around him like a soothing melody. She was stunning—so breathtakingly beautiful that her voice nearly put him in a trance, drawing him in deeper with each word.

From the corner of the room, a the shadowing student named Bailey watched them closely, her brow furrowed as she sensed the undeniable tension hanging between them like a taut string ready to snap.

Jungkook, lost in the charm of her voice, finally noticed her injured leg propped awkwardly at an angle. Concern flickered in his eyes as he knelt beside her. "How did you hurt yourself?" he asked gently, his tone laced with genuine care.

"I fell down a couple of stairs," she admitted, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment. She cast her gaze down, avoiding his eyes as if afraid to meet his concern head-on.

Dr. Jeon’s expression softened, and he carefully lifted her leg, assessing the injury with a practiced touch. "Our student here will get you a cast, and she'll call me afterward for a follow-up," he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

"But Dr. Jeon, do I really have to call you? I didn't think—" Bailey protested, her voice wavering slightly.

"Please, just follow the instructions, Bailey," he said, forcing a reassuring smile that masked his underlying worry. He glanced back at ___, his eyes lingering on her face, as if gauging her discomfort.

___ felt a mix of emotions swirling within her—overwhelmed by the situation, yet acutely aware of Dr. Jeon’s warm presence and his undivided attention.

"It is kind of painful, Dr.," she asked hesitantly, biting her lip as she tried to gauge his reaction.

"Don’t worry," he assured her, his voice a balm to her worries. "You’ll be back to normal in no time." His smile was infectious, and she felt a flicker of hope in his words.

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Later, as I wheeled through the hospital’s bright corridors, the scent of antiseptic mingling with the occasional whiff of fresh flowers from a nearby bouquet, I waited for my mom to pick me up. I was grateful it was just my leg that was injured—if it had been my arms, I wouldn't be able to paint, a thought that both relieved and saddened me.

“___!” I heard Dr. Jeon’s voice call from a distance, cutting through the noise of bustling nurses and patients.

He rushed toward me, his smile brightening the dimness of my day. “Sorry, my forgetful student didn’t call me back. It could affect her grade,” he said with a mock-seriousness that made me chuckle.

“Dr. Jeon! Please don’t be hard on poor Bailey!” I laughed, the lightness of the moment easing my earlier anxiety.

“I’m just teasing, ___,” he replied, but his expression turned serious again. He pulled out a sharpie and carefully wrote on my cast, bending down to meet my knee level. I glanced down at his tousled hair, which made him look almost like a playful boba ball. The sight of him so close felt both comforting and exciting.

“Done!” he announced, stepping back with a triumphant grin.

Looking down, I saw a number scrawled alongside a cheerful note wishing me to feel better. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a flutter through my chest. When I glanced back up, however, he was already gone, swept back into the busy rhythm of the hospital, his white coat trailing behind him like a cape.

Shock coursed through me. What did this mean? Should I call him? The number lingered in my mind, a beacon of possibility amidst the uncertainty. Would he want to hear from me? My heart raced as I weighed the options, contemplating the connection we had just begun to forge.

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I was sweating profusely on the Pilates machine, my breath coming in short gasps as I desperately sipped from a small glass of water. My leg was better, and I decided to just stick to arm exercises. The rhythmic hum of the gym around me felt like a distant buzz. "Girl, what's got you so tired today?" my friend Jessie asked, her voice cutting through my focus.

"What do you mean? I’m normal, I swear," I replied, a hint of nervousness creeping into my tone as I tried to wipe the sweat from my brow.

Jessie raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Her smirk was all too familiar, like she could read my thoughts. "I know you, girl."

I hesitated, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with anxiety. Finally, I let it slip. "Well, there might be a man..."

"Ooo, who?!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart race. "So, I was painting at this client's wedding, right? And this guy came up to me. I found him so cute! Turns out he’s actually a doctor at our hospital!"

Jessie’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth forming a perfect "O." "A doctor, __!!!!!!! And you didn’t even try to tell me?"

"Stop, Jessie! You know I get tongue-tied talking about him, even though it’s only been a short while."

Jessie scoffed, her excitement undeterred. "So go for it, girl! What’s holding you back?"

"He gave me his number, but I’m hesitant to call. What if it’s just about the cast and not about me…?" The thought made my stomach twist.

Jessie slapped the back of my head playfully. "Girl, doctors would go to jail if they did that with their clients! Be realistic. This man likes you! Now let’s go eat some grilled cheese; I’m craving Panera."

"You go ahead. I’ll call him..." My voice trailed off, uncertainty flooding back in.

"Fine! I’ll be in the changing rooms. See you!" Jessie dashed off, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

I nervously handled my phone, wiping my sweaty hands on the towel around my neck before gulping down another mouthful of water. The weight of the moment felt heavy, and my heart pounded as I pressed the keys to input his number. Finally, I hit "dial" and held my breath.

Within three seconds, I heard an enthusiastic, "Hello!"

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his energy. "Hi!" I replied, my voice wavering slightly.

"Um, how’s your knee?" he asked quietly, a hint of concern lacing his tone. I could almost picture him, his brow furrowed with genuine care.

"Yeah, it’s good, doct—"

"Jungkook. Please call me Jungkook."

"Okay, yes, Jungkook," I said, feeling a warm flutter in my chest as his name rolled off my tongue.

There was a brief silence, a soft shuffle on his end, before he spoke again. "I want to ask you out on a date—at the arcade in downtown?"

I was momentarily speechless, the words hanging in the air like a promise. But excitement quickly surged through me. "Yes!" I replied, almost too eagerly, a grin breaking across my face.

My heart raced, and I felt a rush of adrenaline. Jungkook let out a relieved breath, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Great! I’ll see you tonight? I know it’s a bit rushed; I finish work at 6—"

"I’d love to, Jungkook."

"Before I leave… dress code is fancy!" he added, his tone teasing yet serious.

I burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the empty gym. "Fancy, Jungkook? It’s an arcade! Are you serious?"

He laughed back, the sound bright and contagious. "Yes! Now go, go!" he exaggerated, and I could hear the excitement bubbling in his voice.

Feeling affectionate and lighthearted, I said goodbye, a smile plastered across my face as I hung up. My heart danced in my chest, and as I glanced at my reflection in the gym mirror, I couldn’t help but grin at the unexpected thrill of what lay ahead.

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My dress cascaded elegantly down to my feet, hugging my curves just right. I felt beautiful, even with my crutches held tightly under my form-fitting black dress. I wanted to accentuate my figure, so I styled my hair to flow down to my waist, opting for a natural glow with minimal makeup. Excitement bubbled within me as I prepared to see him.

As I grabbed my bag—its sole treasure a shimmering lip gloss—I caught sight of him standing under the moonlight on the empty street. His presence filled me with a warmth that made my heart flutter. Dressed in an all-black suit adorned with soft Swarovski crystals, he looked utterly dashing. His smile, bright and inviting, drew me in.

“Hello…” he gasped softly.

I could feel his gaze tracing my body as I moved. It felt electric, and I noticed him stealing a glance at my curves as he opened the car door for me.

Once we settled in, before the car roared to life, he simply stared at me, a quiet intensity in his eyes.

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” I asked, my insecurity creeping in as I reached for the car mirror.

He took my hand gently and held it, his touch comforting.

“Nothing about this is wrong. You look gorgeous. I just want to stare a bit longer.”

His words silenced me, and I found myself blushing deeply as I pulled my bag closer.

He started the car, and we set off for the arcade.

“So, what brought you to this city, beautiful?”

The compliment made me warm inside. “I came for the weddings. This city has so many beautiful landscapes, perfect for ceremonies and photos. I travel a lot for work.”

“Do you enjoy what you do?”

“Absolutely. It’s rewarding to be part of someone’s special day, adding a sprinkle of positivity to their lives. Knowing my work hangs on their living room walls, it feels like I’m part of something significant.”

Jungkook smiled softly, his gaze never leaving me.

“Yeah, I agree. You’re special, and I love the idea of spreading positivity. As a doctor…”

I listened intently, holding his left hand while he steered with his right.

“As humans, we often focus on the negatives. One bad interaction can linger all week, making it hard to feel safe around people. But with you, your energy feels inviting. The way you smiled at everyone at the wedding, how you played with the kids—it’s just…”

I felt tears prick at my eyes, touched that this man, whom I had known for such a short time, could see me like this.

Before I knew it, we arrived at our destination.

“Arcade Diner! Jungkook, I thought you meant an actual arcade! This place looks too fancy—”

He chuckled. “Did you really think I’d take you to an arcade in such a beautiful dress?”

“Well, I—”

“Come on, hold my hand and let’s go.”

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The date had gone incredibly well, filled with laughter and deep conversations about our careers and lifelong dreams. Jungkook’s intensity made me feel heard, and he smiled at everything I said.

“Here’s home…” he said as we pulled up.

“Thank you for dropping me off, Jungkook.”

He smiled softly, stepping out of the car to open my door.

As we stood facing each other, the only sounds were the crickets chirping and the gentle whisper of the night air.

“I want to get to know you more. I really enjoyed tonight, and I’d like this to become something more—if you want it too,” Jungkook rambled, his sincerity evident.

I placed my hand on his cheek and gave him a gentle peck. “Thank you for this amazing night, Jungkook. You really put my heart at ease.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought.

Then, suddenly, he grabbed my hands and pulled me closer, his left arm wrapping around my waist.

With a soft “oof,” I found myself pressed against his chest.

He leaned in, kissing my lips softly. The air shifted between us, and our kiss deepened as he gently traced his tongue against mine. A thrill surged through me, and I felt an intoxicating happiness wash over me. Our kiss grew more passionate, his movements becoming more urgent. I melted into him, my cheeks burning as soft sounds escaped me, craving more of this beautiful moment.

I could hear his soft groans as his hands engulfs my waist.

When we finally pulled away, we both took deep breaths, our cheeks flushed and warm, laughter spilling between us as we reveled in the adrenaline of our encounter.

“I have a wedding to go to tomorrow. I’d love some company while I paint, if that’s okay with you,” I suggested.