#integrals class 12

[loversbones]

today i was like "i wish the school year was already over..." and then it hit me that it is Literally may, school is ending next month, what do you mean its already been a whole year. i'm still mentally in november i think. what the fuck happened how did i get here?????

[vavaclasses]

Integration by Parts – Class 12 Mathematics Notes

Introduction:

Integration by Parts is a crucial technique in integral calculus, especially useful when dealing with the integration of the product of two functions. It is derived from the product rule of differentiation and helps solve complex integrals that cannot be integrated directly. Understanding this method thoroughly will aid in solving various problems in CBSE Class 12 board exams and competitive exams like JEE Main.

Formula for Integration by Parts:

If u = f(x) and v = g(x), then:

∫ u·v dx = u ∫v dx - ∫ (du/dx · ∫v dx) dx

Or simply,

∫ u·v dx = uv - ∫ v·(du/dx) dx

Choosing u and v – ILATE Rule:

To select which function to differentiate and which to integrate, use the ILATE rule:

I: Inverse Trigonometric functions L: Logarithmic functions A: Algebraic functions T: Trigonometric functions E: Exponential functions

Solved Examples of Integration by Parts:

Evaluate ∫ x · e^x dx

Let u = x (Algebraic), dv = e^x dx Then, du = dx, and v = ∫ e^x dx = e^x Apply the formula: ∫ x·e^x dx = x·e^x - ∫ e^x dx = x·e^x - e^x + C Answer: ∫ x·e^x dx = e^x(x - 1) + C

Evaluate ∫ ln x dx

Let u = ln x, dv = dx Then, du = (1/x) dx, v = ∫ dx = x Apply the formula: ∫ ln x dx = x·ln x - ∫ x·(1/x) dx = x·ln x - ∫ 1 dx = x·ln x - x + C Answer: ∫ ln x dx = x(ln x - 1) + C

Evaluate ∫ x · sin x dx

Let u = x, dv = sin x dx Then, du = dx, v = ∫ sin x dx = -cos x Apply the formula: ∫ x·sin x dx = -x·cos x + ∫ cos x dx = -x·cos x + sin x + C Answer: ∫ x·sin x dx = -x·cos x + sin x + C

Special Cases and Tips:

Some integrals may require repeated application of the formula. For example: ∫ x^2 e^x dx

Practice Questions

1. ∫ x · cos x dx 2. ∫ x · ln x dx 3. ∫ x^2 · e^x dx 4. ∫ arctan x dx 5. ∫ ln x dx

Conclusion:

Integration by Parts is a powerful technique in calculus, especially when dealing with products of functions. Mastery of the ILATE rule and regular practice of varied problems ensures confidence and accuracy in the exams.

[memorysclub]

Tackle all class 12 maths complex questions with NCERT solutions for 12 class maths. Memorysclub provides each question solutions for integrals exercise 7.3 class 12 maths and increases deep understanding of your mathematical foundation and conquering the intricacies of integrals by engaging with this carefully crafted exercise tailored to Class 12 curriculum requirements. Download class 12 ex 7.3 pdf.

[matcha3mochi]

PROTOCOL Pairing: Doctor Zayne x Nurse Reader

author note: love and deepspace is my addiction guys LOL anyways enjoy!!

wc: 3,865

chapter 1 | chapter 2

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Akso Hospital looms in the heart of Linkon like a monument of glass, metal, and unrelenting precision. Multi-tiered, climate-controlled, and fully integrated with city-wide telemetry systems, it's known across the cosmos for housing the most advanced medical AI and the most exacting surgeons in the Union.

Inside its Observation Deck on Level 4, the air hums with quiet purpose. Disinfectant and filtered oxygen mix in sterile harmony. The floors are polished to a mirrored sheen, the walls pulse faintly with embedded biometrics, and translucent holoscreens scroll real-time vitals, arterial scans, and surgical priority tags in muted color-coded displays.

You’ve been on the floor since 0500. First to check vitals. First to inventory meds. First to get snapped at.

Doctor Zayne Li is already here—of course he is. The man practically lives in the operating theatres. Standing behind the panoramic glass that overlooks Surgery Bay Delta, he looks like something carved out of discipline and frost. His pristine long coat hangs perfectly from squared shoulders, gloves tucked with methodical precision, silver-framed glasses reflecting faint readouts from the transparent interface hovering before him.

He’s the hospital’s prized cardiovascular surgeon. The Zayne Li—graduated top of his class from Astral Medica, youngest surgeon ever certified for off-planet cardiac reconstruction, published more than any other specialist in the central systems under 35. There's even a rumor he once performed a dual-heart transplant in an emergency gravity failure. Probably true.

He’s a legend. A genius.

And an ass.

He’s never once smiled at you. Never once said thank you. With other staff, he’s distant but civil. With you, he’s something else entirely: cold, strict, and unrelentingly sharp. If you breathe wrong, he notices. If you hesitate, he corrects. If you do everything by protocol?

He still finds something to critique.

"Vitals on Bed 12 were late," he said this morning without even turning his head. No greeting. Just judgment, clean and surgical.

"They weren’t late. I had to reset the cuff."

"You should anticipate equipment failures. That’s part of the job."

And that was it. No acknowledgment of the three critical patients you’d managed in that hour. No recognition. No room for explanation. He turned away before you could blink, his coat slicing behind him like punctuation.

You don’t like him.

You don’t disrespect him—because you're a professional, and because he's earned his reputation a hundred times over. But you don’t like how he talks to you like you’re a glitch in the system. Like you’re a deviation he hasn’t figured out how to reprogram.

You’ve worked under strict doctors before. But Zayne is different. He doesn’t push to challenge you. He pushes to see if you’ll break.

And the worst part?

You haven’t.

Which only seems to piss him off more.

You watch him now from the break table near the edge of the deck, your synth-coffee going tepid between your hands. He’s reviewing scans on a projection screen—high-res, rotating 3D models of a degenerating bio-synthetic valve. His eyes, a pale hazel-green, flick across the data with sharp focus. His arms are folded behind his back, posture perfect, expression unreadable.

He hasn’t noticed you.

Correction: he has, and he’s pointedly ignoring you.

Typical.

You take another sip of coffee, more bitter than before. You could head back to inventory. You could restock surgical trays. But you don’t.

Because part of you refuses to give him the satisfaction of leaving first.

So you stay.

And so does he.

Two professionals. Two adversaries. One cold war fought in clipped words, clinical tension, and overlapping silence.

And the day hasn’t even started yet.

The surgical light beams down like a second sun, flooding the operating theatre in harsh, clinical brightness. It washes the color out of everything—blood, skin, even breath—until all that remains is precision.

Doctor Zayne Li stands at the head of the table, gloved hands elevated and scrubbed raw, sleeves of his sterile gown clinging tight around his forearms. His eyes flick up to the vitals screen, then down to the patient’s exposed chest.

“Vitals?” he asks.

You answer without hesitation. “Steady. HR 82, BP 96/63, oxygen at 99%, no irregularities.”

His silence is your only cue to proceed.

You hand him the scalpel, handle first, exactly as protocol demands. He doesn’t look at you when he takes it—but his fingers graze yours, cold through double-layered gloves, and the contact still sends a tiny jolt up your arm. Annoying.

He makes the incision without fanfare, clean and deliberate, the kind of cut that only comes from years of obsessive mastery. The kind that still makes your gut tighten to watch.

You monitor the instruments, anticipating without crowding him. You’ve been assisting in his surgeries for weeks now. You’ve learned when he prefers the microclamp versus the stabilizer. You’ve memorized the sequence of his suturing pattern. You know when to speak and when not to. Still, it’s never enough.

“Retractor,” he says flatly.

You’re already reaching.

“Not that one.”

Your hand freezes mid-motion.

His tone is ice. “Cardiac thoracic, not abdominal. Are you even awake?”

A hot flush rises behind your ears. He doesn’t yell—Zayne never yells—but his disappointment cuts deeper than a scalpel. You grit your teeth and correct the tray.

“Cardiac thoracic,” you repeat. “Understood.”

No response. Just the soft click of metal as he inserts the retractor into the sternotomy.

The rest of the operation is silence and beeping. You suction blood before he asks. He cauterizes without hesitation. The damaged aortic valve is removed, replaced with a synthetic graft designed for lunar-pressure tolerance. It’s delicate work—millimeter adjustments, microscopic thread. One wrong move could tear the tissue.

Zayne doesn’t shake. Doesn’t blink. He’s terrifyingly still, even as alarms spike and the patient's BP dips for three agonizing seconds.

“Clamp. Now,” he says.

You pass it instantly. He seals the nicked vessel, stabilizes the pressure, and the monitor quiets.

You exhale—but not too loudly. Not until the final suture is tied, the chest closed, and the drape removed. Then, and only then, does he speak again.

“Clean,” he says, already walking away. “Prepare a report for Post-Op within the hour.”

You stare at his retreating back, fists clenched at your sides. No thank you. No good work. Just a cold command and disappearing footsteps.

The Diagnostic Lab is silent, save for the low hum of scanners and the occasional pulse of a vitascan completing a loop. The walls are steel-paneled with matte black inlays, lit only by the soft glow of holographic interfaces. Ambient light drifts in from a side wall of glass, showing the icy curve of Europa in the distance, half-shadowed in space.

You stand alone at a curved diagnostics console, sleeves rolled just above your elbows, eyes locked on the 3D hologram spinning in front of you. The synthetic heart pulses slowly, arteries reconstructed with precise synthetic grafts. The valve—a platinum-carbon composite—is functioning perfectly. You check the scan tags, patient ID, op codes, and log the post-op outcome.

Everything’s clean. Correct.

Or so you thought.

You barely register the soft hiss of the door opening behind you until the room shifts. Not in volume, but in pressure—like gravity suddenly increased by one degree.

You don’t turn. You don’t have to.

Zayne.

“Line 12 in the file log,” he says, voice low, composed, and close. Too close.

You blink at the screen. “What about it?”

“You mislabeled the scan entry. That’s a formatting violation.”

Your heart rate ticks up. You straighten your spine.

“No,” you reply calmly, “I used trauma tags from pre-op logs. They cross-reference with the emergency surgical queue.”

His footsteps approach—measured, deliberate—and stop directly behind you. You sense the heat of his body before anything else. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you feel him standing there, like a charged wire humming at your back.

“You adapted a tag system that’s not recognized by this wing’s software. If these were pushed to central review, they’d get flagged. Wasting time.” His tone is even. Too even.

Your hands rest on the edge of the console. You force your shoulders not to tense.

“I made a call based on the context. It was logical.”

“You’re not here to improvise logic,” he replies, stepping even closer.

You feel the air change as he raises his arm, reaching past you—his coat sleeve brushing the side of your bicep lightly, the barest whisper of contact. His hand moves with surgical confidence as he taps the air beside your own, opening the tag metadata on the scan you just logged. His fingers are long, gloved, deliberate in motion.

“This,” he says, highlighting a code block, “should have been labeled with an ICU procedural tag, not pre-op trauma shorthand.”

You turn your head slightly, and there he is. Close. Towering. His jaw is tight, clean-shaven except for the faintest trace of stubble catching the edge of the light. There’s a tiredness around his eyes—subtle, buried deep—but he doesn’t blink. Doesn’t waver. He’s so still it’s unnerving.

He doesn’t seem to notice—or care—how near he is.

You, however, are all too aware.

Your voice tightens. “Is there a reason you couldn’t point this out without standing over me like I’m in your way?”

Zayne doesn’t flinch. “If I stood ten feet back, you’d still argue with me.”

You bristle. “Because I know what I’m doing.”

“And yet,” he replies coolly, “I’m the one correcting your data.”

That sting digs deep. You pull in a breath, clenching your fists subtly against the side of the console. You want to yell. But you won’t. Because he wants control, and you won’t give him that too.

He lowers his hand slowly, retracting from the display, and finally—finally—steps back. Just enough to let you breathe again.

But the tension? It lingers like static.

“I’ll correct the tag,” you say flatly.

Zayne nods once, then turns to go.

But at the doorway, he stops.

Without looking back, he adds, “You're capable. That’s why I expect better.”

Then he walks out.

Leaving you in the cold hum of the diagnostic lab, your pulse racing, your thoughts a snarl of frustration and something else—unsettling and electric—curling low in your gut.

You don’t know what that something is.

But you’re starting to suspect it won’t go away quietly.

You sit three seats from the end of the long chrome conference table, back straight, shoulders tight, fingers wrapped just a little too hard around your datapad.

The Surgical Briefing Room is too bright. It always is. Cold light from the ceiling plates bounces off polished surfaces, glass walls, and the brushed steel of the central console. A hologram hovers in the center of the room, slowly spinning: the reconstructed heart from this morning’s procedure, arteries lit in pulsing red and cyan.

You can feel sweat prickling at the nape of your neck under your uniform collar. Your scrubs are crisp, your hair pinned back precisely, your notes immaculate—but none of that matters when Dr. Myles Hanron speaks.

You’ve only spoken to him a few times. He’s been at Bell for twenty years. Stern. Respected. Impossible to argue with. Today, he's reviewing the recent cardiovascular procedure—the one you assisted under Zayne’s lead.

And something is off. He’s frowning at the scan display.

Then he looks at you.

“Explain this inconsistency in the anticoagulation log.”

You glance up, already feeling the slow roll of nausea in your stomach.

Your voice comes out measured, but your throat is dry. “I followed the automated-calibrated dosage curve based on intra-op vitals and confirmed with the automated log.”

Hanron raises a brow, his tablet casting a soft reflection on the lenses of his glasses. “Then you followed it wrong.”

The words hit like a slap across your face.

You feel the blood drain from your cheeks. Something sharp twists in your stomach.

“I—” you begin, mouth parting. You shift slightly in your seat, fingers tightening on the datapad in your lap, legs crossed too stiffly. Your body wants to shrink, but you force yourself not to move.

“Don’t interrupt,” Hanron snaps, before you can finish.

A few heads turn in your direction. One of the interns frowns, glancing at you with wide eyes. You stare straight ahead, trying to keep your breathing even, your spine straight, your jaw from visibly clenching.

Hanron paces two steps in front of the display. “You logged a 0.3 ml deviation on a patient with a known history of arrhythmic episodes. Are you unfamiliar with the case history? Or did you just not check?”

“I did check,” you say, quieter, trying to keep your tone professional. Your hands are starting to sweat. “The scan flagged it within range. I wasn’t improvising—”

“Then how did this discrepancy occur?” he presses. “Or are you suggesting the system is at fault?”

You flinch, slightly. You open your mouth to say something—to explain the terminal sync issue you noticed during the last vitals run—but your voice catches.

You’re a nurse.

You’re new.

So you sit there, every instinct in your body screaming to speak, to defend yourself—but you swallow it down.

You stare down at your datapad, the screen now blurred from the way your vision’s tunneling. You clench your teeth until your jaw aches.

You can’t speak up. Not without making it worse.

“Let this be a reminder,” Hanron says, turning his back to you as he scrolls through another projection, “that there is no room for guesswork in surgical prep. Especially not from auxiliary staff who feel the need to act above their training.”

Auxiliary.

The word burns.

You feel heat crawl up your chest. Your hands are shaking slightly. You grip your knees under the table to hide it.

And then—

“I signed off on that dosage.”

Zayne’s voice cuts clean through the air like a cold wire.

You turn your head sharply toward the door. He’s standing in the entrance, posture military-straight, coat half-unbuttoned, gloves tucked into his belt. His presence shifts the atmosphere instantly.

His black hair is perfectly combed back, not a strand out of place, glinting faintly under the sterile overhead lights. His silver-framed glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose, catching a brief reflection from the room’s data panels, but not enough to hide the expression in his eyes.

Hazel-green. Pale and piercing

He’s not looking at you. His gaze is fixed past you, locked on Hanron with unflinching intensity—like the man has just committed a fundamental breach of logic.

There’s not a wrinkle in his coat. Not a single misaligned button or loose thread. Even the gloves at his belt look placed, not shoved there. Zayne is, as always, polished. Meticulous. Icy.

But today—his expression is different.

His jaw is set tighter than usual. The faint crease between his brows is deeper. He looks like a man on the verge of unsheathing a scalpel, not for surgery—but for precision retaliation.

And when he speaks, his voice is calm. Controlled.

His face is unreadable. Voice flat.

“If there’s a problem with it, you can take it up with me.”

The silence in the room is instant. Tense. Airless.

Hanron turns slowly. “Doctor Zayne, this isn’t about—”

“It is,” Zayne replies, tone even sharper. “You’re implying a clinical error in my procedure. If you’re accusing her, then you’re accusing me. So let’s be clear.”

You can barely process it. Your heart is thudding, ears buzzing from the sudden shift in tone, from the weight of Zayne’s voice cutting through the tension like a scalpel. You look at him — really look — and for once, he isn’t focused on numbers or reports.

He’s solely focused on Hanron. And he is furious — not loudly, but in the way his voice doesn’t rise, his jaw locks, and his words slice like ice.

Just furious—in that cold, calculated way of his.

“She followed my instruction under direct supervision,” he says, voice steady. “The variance was intentional. Based on patient history and real-time rhythm response.”

He pauses just long enough to let the words land.

“It was correct.”

Hanron doesn’t respond right away.

His lips press into a thin line, face unreadable, and he shifts back a step—visibly checking himself in the silence Zayne has carved into the room like a scalpel.

“We’ll review the surgical logs,” Hanron mutters at last, voice clipped, his authority retreating behind procedure.

Zayne nods once. “Please do.”

Then, without fanfare, without another word, he steps forward—not toward the exit, but toward the table.

You track him with your eyes, unable to help it.

The low hum of the room resumes, like the air had been holding its breath. No one speaks. A few nurses drop their eyes back to their datapads. Pages turn. Screens flicker.

But you’re frozen in place, shoulders still tight, hands clenched in your lap to keep them from visibly shaking.

Zayne rounds the end of the table, his boots clicking softly against the metal flooring. His long coat sways with his movements, falling neatly behind him as he pulls out the seat directly across from you.

And sits.

Not at the head of the table. Not in some corner seat to observe.

Directly across from you.

He adjusts his glasses with two fingers, expression cool again, almost as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t just dress down a senior doctor in front of the entire room on your behalf.

He doesn’t look at you.

He opens the file on his datapad, stylus poised, reviewing the surgical results like this is any other debrief.

But you’re still staring.

You study the slight tension in his shoulders, the stillness in his hands, the way his eyes don’t drift—not toward Hanron, not toward you—locked entirely on the data as if that can contain whatever just happened.

You should say something.

Thank you.

But the words get stuck in your throat.

Your pulse is still unsteady, confusion mixing with the low thrum of heat behind your ribs. He didn’t need to defend you. He never steps into conflict like that, especially not for others—especially not for you.

You glance away first, eyes back on your screen, unable to ignore the twist in your gut.

The room empties, but you stay.

The echo of voices fades out with the hiss of the sliding doors. Just a few minutes ago, the surgical debrief room was bright with tension—every overhead light too sharp, the air too thin, the hum of holopanels and datapads a constant static in your head.

Now, it’s quiet. Still.

You sit for a moment longer, fingers resting on your lap, knuckles tight, back straight even though your entire body wants to collapse inward. You’re still warm from the flush of embarrassment, your pulse still flickering behind your ears.

Dr. Hanron’s words sting less now, dulled by the cool aftershock of what Zayne did.

He defended you.

You hadn’t expected it. Not from him.

You replay it in your head—his voice cutting in, his posture like stone, his eyes locked on Hanron like a scalpel ready to slice. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t even look at you.

But you felt it.

You felt the impact of what it meant.

And now, as you sit in the empty conference room—white walls, chrome-edged table, sterile quiet—you’re left with one burning thought:

You have to say something.

You rise slowly, brushing your palms down your thighs to wipe off the sweat that lingers there. You hesitate at the doorway. Your reflection stares back at you in the glass panel—eyes still a little wide, jaw tight, posture just a bit too stiff.

He didn’t have to defend you, but he did.

And that matters.

You step into the hallway.

It’s long and narrow, glowing with soft white overhead lights and lined with clear glass panels that reflect fragments of your movement as you walk. The hum of the ventilation system buzzes low and steady—comforting in its monotony. The air smells of antiseptic and the faint trace of ozone from high-oxygen surgical wards.

You spot him ahead, already halfway down the corridor, walking with purpose—long coat swaying slightly with each step, back straight, shoulders squared. Always composed. Always fast.

You hesitate. Your boots slow down and your throat tightens.

You want to turn back, to let it go, to pretend it was just professional courtesy. Nothing more. Nothing personal.

But you can’t.

Not this time.

You quicken your pace.

“Doctor Zayne!”

The name catches in the air, too loud in the quiet hallway. You flinch, just a little—but he stops.

You break into a small jog to catch up, boots tapping sharply against the tile. Your breath catches as you reach him.

Zayne turns toward you, expression unreadable, brows slightly furrowed in that ever-present, analytical way of his. The glow of the ceiling lights reflects off his silver-framed glasses, casting sharp highlights along the edges of his jaw.

He doesn’t say anything. Just waits.

You stop a foot away, heart thudding. You don’t know what you expected��maybe something colder. Maybe for him to ignore you entirely.

You swallow hard, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“I just…” Your voice is quieter now. Careful. “I wanted to say thank you.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. His gaze is steady. Measured.

“I don’t tolerate incompetence,” he says calmly. “That includes false accusations.”

You blink, taken off guard by the directness. It’s not warm. Not even particularly kind. But coming from him, it’s almost intimate.

Still, you can’t help yourself. “That wasn’t really about incompetence.”

“No,” he admits. “It wasn’t.”

The hallway feels smaller now, quieter. He’s watching you in full. Not scanning you like a chart, not calculating — watching. Still. Focused.

You nod slowly, grounding yourself in the moment. “Still. I needed to say it. Thank you.”

You’re suddenly aware of everything—of the warmth in your cheeks, of the way your hands twist at your sides, of how tall he stands compared to you, even when he’s not trying to intimidate.

And he isn’t. Not now.

If anything, he looks… still.

Not soft. Never that. But something quieter. Less armored.

“You handled yourself better than most would have,” he says after a moment. “Even if I hadn’t said anything, you didn’t lose control.”

“I didn’t feel in control,” you admit, a breath of nervous laughter escaping. “I was two seconds from either crying or throwing my datapad.”

That earns you something surprising—just the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. But not quite.

“Neither would’ve been productive,” he says.

You roll your eyes slightly. “Thanks, Doctor Efficiency.”

His glasses catch the light again, but his expression doesn’t change.

You glance past him, down the corridor. “I should get back to my rotation.”

He nods once. “I’ll see you in the lab.”

You pause.

Then—because you don’t know what else to do—you offer a small, genuine smile.

“I’ll be there.”

As you turn to leave, you feel his eyes on your back.

[gotta-winwin]

childhoodbestie!chan x reader

a/n: putting an angst warning + spoiler here right now so be warned ❗dino just gives off downbad!childhoodbesties! vibes sooo hard + a shameless parallel to the beloved laurie from little women. my love you will always be famous.

childhoodbestie!chan who’s been following you around like some gremlin since birth. It helped that your two families lived awfully close together, leading to you bumping into Chan every time you went out.

childhoodbestie!chan who has been in your class at school from preschool all the way to your senior year of high school. some people mistake the two of you for twins and teachers have long since been used to the fact that the two of you came as a duo. It’s not uncommon for you to be asked “where’s chan?” whenever he wasn’t right next to you - as if you’re somehow supposed to know where he wandered off to. (you usually do)

childhoodbestie!chan, who has been copying off your homework since homework was required. It’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t even need to ask, shamelessly copying your work from the other side of the desk. He’s mastered the art of reading upside down just to copy off of you easier. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who shares all his food with you without complaint. It’s second nature, how he unconsciously offers you anything he’s eating, not even pausing through whatever anecdote he was ranting to you about.

childhoodbestie!chan, whose friends are naturally your friends. You don’t really remember when he got adopted into a massive friend group of 12 other boys, but hanging out with them became natural and you integrated into the group as a vital member. 

childhoodbestie!chan who still cries into your shoulder every time someone breaks his heart. His childlike innocence and sweetness has not changed despite the constant mishaps with love, and neither has his instincts to run to you every time he needed a solution - or a hug. 

childhoodbestie!chan who ignores how he’s loved you since he first learned how to ride a bike. He pretends he doesn’t remember the way you teased him for not knowing how, racing past him in the purple bike his parents had given you for your birthday. He ignores the fact that he’s been in love with you since you were both six. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who leaves his house no matter what ungodly hour it may be to go pick you up. He never questions why you need a lift, never mentions the puffy eyes and pouting lips you sport as you shuffle into his car. He knows you’re both still young and stupid and figuring things out - he’s fine waiting, waiting for the day you really see him. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows you still see him as the same little boy who you had to defend on the playground. No matter how hard he tries to remind you that he’s grown - fending off jerks for you at the bar, loudly bragging about his sexcapdes to remind you he’s a full grown man (albeit not his brightest move), even carrying all your luggages up the stairs in one go - he knows it’s not enough. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who has a cute story behind every gift he’s ever gotten you. Whether it was for your birthday or christmas or even valentines (he was your valentine one year for fun and he still cherishes that moment), he has a little backstory and anecdote for why he got you it. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows your likes and dislikes by heart. It’s gotten to the point where his friends find it a bit concerning, when he will randomly point at something and go “oh, Y/N loves that” or “Y/N would have killed to see that.” His friends know his heart is cracking a little each time he brings you up so casually, knowing it’ll never be in a you talk about your girlfriend all the time type of way.

childhoodbestie!chan who watches as you fall in love with someone else. 

childhoodbestie!chan who can only listen and watch as someone else treats you right, feeling happy that you’re happy yet still feeling a little slighted. He can’t help but admit to himself that maybe he actually thought you’d fall in love with him one day. 

childhoodbestie!chan who’s the only male bridesmaid at your wedding. He makes sure the day goes perfectly, despite feeling like he wants to die in the process.

childhoodbestie!chan, who admits to jeonghan one night half-drunk and through tears that he could've sworn you'd love him eventually. that 20 years was enough to love him. right?

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows childhood bestie is all he’ll ever be. 

[jonquilyst]

Day 12 - Challenge Day

In Team Odyssey, we wear green pajamas and play on our phones together 😎 This team is making sure they start the day off right! (Though Idk how it took me this long to realize the majority of this team has similar-colored pajamas... I think it's adorable!)

So, what are we doing today? We've landed in San Myshuno, and tonight our contestants will be taking part in Planet Honey Pop's karaoke contest!

Each contestant will be participating in the karaoke contest by singing "Weekender." Everyone's individual scores will be recorded and tallied up for a team total. The team with the higher team total wins invincibility and first class!

With Team Success gone, it's now just win-or-lose for our remaining 2 teams. Will Team Integrity fall once again to the clutches of Team Odyssey? Or will Team Odyssey finally suffer its first loss? It's time to find out...

We begin with Team Odyssey! With Team Odyssey having one more person than Team Integrity, Raylan was randomly chosen to sit out this challenge. So, he's in the back with Team Integrity enjoying his teammates' performances.

Tomiko and Ziggy put in their all into singing "Weekender!" Both are confident they did well in the karaoke contest.

Team Integrity is next, and they too put in all their singing efforts into the contest. It's a good thing they have singer-boy Matteo on their team!

Though after a while, Ziggy made himself clear that he was done hearing people sing (horribly)...

RESULTS:

Team Odyssey

Marilyn: 45 Minato: 45 Nite: 44 Raylan: DNP Tomiko: 44 Touma: 46 Ziggy: 58 Team Total: 282

Team Integrity

Alanna: 59 Avery: 41 Carson: 49 Elio: 46 Estrello: 47 Matteo: 60 Team Total: 302

I had no doubt that Matteo would be the highest-performing contestant! Team Integrity has proven themselves to be the superior team in singing!

TEAM INTEGRITY WINS!

Congratulations, Team Integrity! Once again, you're all safe and will continue to enjoy first class for the next couple of days.

And Team Odyssey... You've made it this far, but now it's finally time for your first ever elimination ceremony! Yippeee!! I'll see you all there 😉

@ethicaltreatmentofcowplants @bloomingkyras @nakasumi-sims @kissalopa @kari-sims

@ravingsockmonkey @changingplumbob @hellogreta @invisiblequeen @matchalovertrait @lyratea

[h5eavenly]

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

seventeen- can't you see the human in my being? warning: suggestive all over other than that enjoy yn+jake bonding!! and grab some snacks cus this is a long one

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The feeling of cool water surrounding you is celestial to say the least, albeit the smell of chlorine that cuts through the small space sharply, it meshes with the fragrance of your shampoo. It’s a dizzying scent if you focus on it too much. You hum to yourself, the enervation that has been clinging to your body amidst your busy schedule for the past couple of days, slowly dissolves, becoming one with the droplets trickling down your skin.

From seemingly long and dreadful red-carpet interviews you watched Jake go through, a couple of runway shows accompanied by your messed up sleeping schedule thanks to the time difference. This relaxing time was much needed.

With the pool having an open rooftop, the moonlight seeps in, illuminating the dark, reflecting against the water as if tiny million diamonds are swimming alongside you. The sight brings a silly smile to crawl up your face. In this moment, your life doesn’t feel as tangible as the warmth spreading throughout your chest.

Your tranquil silence is heckled by the sound of a door sliding open, footsteps following. You swivel your head around, a startled expression overtaking your smile at the sight of Jake. An amused arch of an eyebrow coaxes forth his own surprise upon seeing you.

“Hey?” You speak, swimming closer to him. Your hair slicked back, your face bare of anything and a natural flush settling upon your cheeks. It’s a sight he was not prepared enough to behold stumbling from between his cold sheets.

Hence why it takes longer than essential for your words to penetrate his brain, stretching seconds for him to compose himself.

“I was wondering who the fuck is crazy enough to be swimming at 12 am. Of course it’s our precious bunny.”  He teases, a smile curling at the end of his lips as he sits on one of the lounge chairs, by the edge.

Precious

It’s unfortified, a scarce display of a sentiment that settles right atop your heart, evoking beats mellowed down to a mere hankering for him. It’s simply serendipitous despite the knowledge that you know he doesn’t mean it endearingly, not one bit. Not with the way mischief colors his grin. Yet, your cheeks obliterated with a darker flush, foolishly you could only pray it’s not visible enough for his eyes to catch it.

“I couldn’t sleep.” An all too adorable of smile spreads across your lips, Jake blames it on his lack of sleep as he eyes you wading to him, till you’re close enough to rest your arms upon the side of the pool, a sparkle matches the light emerging from the moon swims in your gaze, your sweet scent invisibly travels all the way to him.

“So, you decided to take a swim in the middle of the night?”

“Mhm.” You relax your chin in the palm of your hand “I had to call Niki as well. I haven’t talked to him ever since we landed in Paris.”

“How is he doing?” he asks, leaning back on the chair and his eyes growing half-lidded as he tips his head back, they’re growing unabashed, lowering over the length of your slender neck.

A knot forms in your stomach at the ferocity.

“He’s alright.” You breathe out, softly.

“Is it morning in Korea?” he asks, chewing on his lower lip and you, with enormous exertion will enough self-control not to let your eyes wander.

“Yeah, I think I called him in the middle of class but oh well.”

“You miss him?”

“a little bit. Is that too loser of me?”  you breath out a giggle, diffidently brushing a strand of your hair away from your face, even though it never moved out of place.

“it’s cute.” He replies, with integrity fettering his words. Your breath hitches ever so slightly, stolen by the fondness coating the air.

It’s a stillness that is unfamiliar yet welcome, twirled with the warmth of your chest and his peace of mind.

“You’re calling me cute?” he rolls his eyes playfully, a smile forcing its way on his face and your giggles turn discordant, evoking the air to sparkle with your effulgence.

“I’m saying you missing your brother is cute.”

“So, I’m not cute?” you push your lips into a pout, a strive to capture fallen praises from his mouth. He leans forward, pressing his index finger into the skin of your forehead, tipping your head back and you follow with ease, a lazy smile climbing up your lips.

“You’re annoying.” He jokes, leaning back in his chair.

“You said it so fondly I’m taking it as a compliment.”

Jake doesn’t say anything back to that, only tilts his head to the side with an enticing simper and you fall into tune with an amicable song. It’s plaited with stares brimming with desire, curls of his smile and the fluttering of your lashes. Induced with your cheeks glowing pink, your heartbeat remains abiding.

A silent movie that unfolds right amidst your eye contact.

“Why aren’t you asleep?”  you ask, a venture in tries to dissipate the tension daunting on you, you tell yourself it’s out of nowhere, yet the look in Jake’s eyes has been as transparent as ever.

Push and pull, a servant to overflowing lust.

It’s instantly deemed a failure when his silence stretches, his eyes are too busy watching you, too patently diverted with how inviting your lips look.

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t sleep for some reason.” he shrugs.

Perhaps it’s the way his pale skin almost glimmers under the moonshine that has your breath hitching. As if stars traveled for years only to disintegrate with enough force upon his first breath into the universe. Amassing atop his skin, in the flickers of shades in his eyes and in-between the black strands of his hair. Even with fatigue staining his undereye, evidence of his tossing and turning in the mess atop his head. Jake remains the most dazzling star you got the chance to behold.

Not dancing along to this all-too-familiar song of allure is impossible. You fall into step way too easily, it’s embedded with the way your own eyes cloud with desire, a bite to your lower lip as you attempt to push your breasts together with an innocent grin, induced with charm. His eyes flit down immediately, tongue darting out to wet his own lips.

“There’s gotta be a reason. Weren’t you pretty tired earlier?”

“Mm.”

“You should relax.”

“Oh? How do you think I should relax?”

“There’s a lot of ways to relax.”

“Like what baby?”

Ah fuck. You don’t expect it and it shows in the way your eyes widen, crushed rose petals traverse across your cheeks and triumphant blooms upon his just as strong. The endearment goes straight to your core. A fire slipping down your folds.

You avert your eyes for a moment in futile attempts to collect your thoughts, to not turn into putty under his stare. He remains ruthless with his intensity, your body growing impossibly hot.

When you look back at him there’s newfound seduction coating your lips, tilting them upwards.

“I don’t know,” you start with a shrug “Maybe you’re just hungry Jake?” Your words spill like candied sweets, melting his tiredness away and rendering his senses awake. His brows raising in pleasant surprise, galvanizing him into leaning forward.

“Famished.” He answers, quickly, no sense of hesitation.

“You should eat then.”

“I should.”

You smile with your eyes before your lips, even with air tinted red with lust. A hue of brightness surrounds you. It does nothing to the way he watches you with undevoted attention as you amble out of the water. You take your time, dawdling past him to grab your towel. The minutes ticking by agonizingly slow as you dry yourself.

His eyes run wild, in their own race against his sinful cravings, trailing all over your body with no shame to hold him back, submerged with ripples of heat, it’s in the fire setting a trail form him to you ablaze. Surging up with beguiling invitation. By the slowness of your hand’s movement, it’s clear you’re holding back your cards, leading with teasing batting of your lashes, darting stares and giggles.

However, tonight Jake has no time for premeditated moves.

He already bared them all on the table.

“Come here bunny.” He says lowly, an order lacing his tone.

“Where?” you ask, faux abstinence has your eyes widening in pureness. He sees past them all, pulling on his own end of desire with a raise of brow at you. Colored with lead that makes your mouth water.

Yet he still lets a chuckle slip, overtaken by merriment. He pats his thigh silently; it is more than enough for you to follow. You trudge towards him, his eyes growing heavier with each step, darkening with a daze of lust.

As soon as you’re within distance, his hand wraps around your hip, his thumb brushing over your tattoo with tenderness that has you exhaling.

“I forgot about this little guy.” He comments, eyes fixated on your hipbone.

“You hurt his feelings.” You retort in a hushed whisper, albeit impishness, you’re closer to stifling on the mere idea of him.

Keeping his gaze interlocked with yours he leisurely inches forward, his other hand curling around your waist and tugging you towards him and you allow it with adroitness dripping from the softening of your fingers pushing through his hair. His lips part marginally, just enough for him to place an open-mouthed kiss right over your tattoo.

“Sorry.” He murmurs halfheartedly, the twitch of his lips should annoy you like it always does and yet you don’t find it in you the same way you don’t find an answer to give back.

You’re mutilated, particles that only ever come together under his diverting touches of adulation.

At your silence, he kisses it again, closing his eyes as if to savor the flavour of your skin, as if decades have managed to mesh within the negligent hours of his workdays since the last time he felt your skin on his lips. It feels closer to that when you let a whimper out, your fingers tightening in his strands as his lips slowly travel up. With bruising kisses akin to infatuation seeping into your skin, whizzing with your blood. he leaves a trail of stardust behind, seared onto your skin with electricity that will surely remain for days.

“Jake.” You moan, overtaken with debility that has him groaning.

As if a coil that snaps, a tempest of lechery he cannot hold back anymore, his hold on you consolidates, his fingers pressing into your flesh as he pulls you to straddle his lap, your arms find his neck naturally and the proximity is enough for him to wave his vanquishment haughtily

“I want you.” He whispers wantonly right atop your lips, his breath reeking of mint and your legs tremble with his honesty.

“You can have me.” you press your chest into him, lust erupts from between your words all the way down to your core.

You collide with feverish force, your lips unfurling almost promptly as his tongue invades your mouth. Your kiss turns messy and wet sinfully quick. His hands are all over your body, on your ass one minute and then your waist only to end up on your breasts, kneading them with the same yearning unfolding within you, it has you grinding down on him.

With desire coating your hands, they slip down his body with their own purpose, slipping past the constrictions of his undergarments, your palm wrapping around his shaft, he groans against your lips and the sound is enough to have your hand moving up and down languidly. It is ample for pleasure to seep into him, breaking from your kiss with a moan. A sound so melodically profaned, your own core shakes all the same.

“fuck” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours and you kneel into reverence with force, kindled with adoring eyes lingering on every expression that passes by him.

Every twist on his face, crinkle of his brows and then the way his eyes catch yours, not stumbling by a blunder but rather with intention. Akin to butterfly wings grazing the softness of petals. Entranced by their beauty and you, with one another, sweetness manages to mesh within all the fissures of ambivalence between you. He manages to stay the prettiest even with pleasure fogging his essence.

His hand encircles your wrist, halting your movements with a bite to his lower lip and you exhale, not realizing you were holding yourself back from breathing in all along.

“Let’s go to my room.” He says, voice a mere whisper with your lips almost touching, your chest heaving. As your eyes dart between his darkening orbs and his mouth, you nod.

Your appetency to feel his body against yours, and his greed for your mewls to spill into him overwhelm every other sensation with vigor, painting the inside of your mind with emptiness, induced with echoes of need for him. It all unwinds between his sheets and his hips moving against yours, with lust drunk kisses and stares that stretch way too long to be deemed appropriate for the relationship you two have.

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on it, even when Jake kisses trail from your lips to your cheeks with delicacy dusting them before he rolls off you.

After the both of you are showered, you learn on the doorframe of his bathroom, in a bathrobe and watch as Jake gets dressed in alleviated movement. He turns to face you, no usual disquiet etched onto his features. Instead, his skin glows brighter with city lights from his window.

“You wanna eat together?” you open your mouth to answer, yet before your words even manage to exist, your stomach grumbles, the sound cutting through the air forcefully.

He chuckles and your cheeks grow warm, with adorable discomfiture.

“I’m really hungry.” You smile.

“Me too.”

Jake ends up ordering room service, despite the late hour you’re guessing it’s one of the privileges you get when you’re the most famous person in Korea. With a table full of food separating you. Your chatter fills the room, with gleaming eyes and a beam on your face, your words unraveling parts of your past with funny situations and random pictures you had of your friends. Jake listens fastidiously, with seemingly uprunning attention and nods when it’s imperative.

“This was at Niki’s last birthday party. Wonie got so drunk there’s a not a silly thing that could cross your mind that he didn’t do,” you explain with a soft laugh, showing him the video, you took a few months back, falling into the warmth of nostalgia.

“Wait who’s that? Next to Ryujin.” he asks, fingers pointing at your screen.

“Oh, that’s Heeseung.”

“He looks different in everything you show me I swear.”

“Really? I feel like he looks the same.” You retort with an endearing giggle, one that has him clearing his throat as you scroll through your cameraroll “Maybe it’s the hair. He dyes it a lot.” You murmur, more to yourself as you tilt your head at the screen of your phone.

“Is he the one who gave you the alien tattoo?”

“Yes.” You groan, covering your face with your palm. It has a fond smile spreading across his face.

“What’s all that about anyways?”

“It was a stupid fucking bet.”

“Mm. tell me. I’m intrigued.”

You stare at him with dewy widened eyes, pulling your lips into a pout saturated with desires to run away. It does little to nothing to grate through his façade, it stays unwavering as he arches an eyebrow at you, scuttling gaze and you sigh. Knowing you’re cornered.

“I don’t want you to laugh at me.” You whine, a glisten takes place between your lashes, it evokes his fondness to enlarge.

“I won’t.”

“you’re already smiling,” your pout deepens, and his smile only stretches.

“Tell me.” you sigh with defeat.

“Basically, there was this guy I was obsessed with back in highschool. So, me and Heeseung made a bet that if I confessed to him in front of everyone, he’s gonna give me money.”

“How much?”

“Like 300$.”

“Damn. And the tattoo?”

“He said if I lost, he’d tattoo that stupid toy story alien on me. I thought there’s no way I’m losing so of course I agreed. Besides I had heard stuff about how the guy also likes me so I thought this should be easy.”

“Okay? What happened then?” you sigh, bracing yourself for the heat already crawling up the length of your neck with immense speed.

“I ended up confessing to the wrong guy.” You admit, looking at him through your lashes, Jake’s expression drops, crossing his arms atop his chest.

“You confessed to the wrong guy?” you nod, and he lets out an exhale of a chortle, crossing all the way to your chest and spreading just like you imagine an angel’s wings to unbosom “How?”

“They looked the same from the back. And I just went up to him and spilled the contents of my heart and you know what’s the worst thing about it?”

“Yeah?”

“It was during lunch time and in the middle of cafeteria, so everyone heard me.” you grouse, the embarrassment of the situation clambering over you all the same.

“So, you humiliated yourself and managed to get a shitty tattoo all at once?”

“Pretty much.” You answer with a chuckle.

A short silence settles, not twisted with excruciating awkwardness but rather a pleasant warmth, like the feeling of sunrays upon your skin after a dreadful cruel winter. It’s in the way Jake’s freshly clean hair falls over his eyes as he looks at you. It’s seraphic, enough to have you falling breathless, yet you don’t find the urge to run away from his gaze in you. Conjuring up enough gallantry to envelope his atoms with the affability of your smile.

His eyes dart down to your plate, a frown taking over his face at the sight of it being empty.

“Eat bunny. Who do you think I got this food for?” He berates with a tsk, adding pieces of steak onto your plate and you watch with amusement clinging to your features.

“You didn’t need to order this much.” You comment, digging into your food regardless.

“I told you I was hungry.” He replies, adding steamed vegetables onto your plate as well “Your diet is so shit. Have some veggies.”

“Excuse me? my diet is not shit- oh my god stop adding so much I can’t eat all of this Jake!” Giggles erupt from between your lips, amid bites you cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

“It is shit. All you have is sugar and coffee.” He falls back into his seat, bestowing you some mercy and leaving your plate alone.

“I have other stuff.”

He hums, resting his chin upon the heart of his palm. Watching as you indulge into your food with a smile of joy overriding your antecedent stubbornness.

“Why do you love sweets so much?” he asks after a while, after he has given you enough minutes to chew a good chunk of your plate.

“I don’t have a specific reason. It’s like my comfort amidst the chaos of life.”

Comfort. It tumbles out your mouth so easily, unrestricted by the shackles of hardship yet it reverberates with crudeness throughout the nooks of his brain, tastes pungent on his tongue. Nevertheless, it swirls in his mind with prodding questions. It translates into his gaze fogging up. Nebulous with conjectures if comfort were in the cards for him.

Surprisingly, you seem to be catching on to his telltales of running eyes and busy brain, as you pretend to pick your fork, your hand brushes against his briefly, akin to the feeling of Forget me nots on the tips of his finger. Like spring, warmth on the contrary to the coldness of his soul. It’s enough to bring him back to you. Eyes focused as they flit between your hand and your face.

“Do you have something like that?”

“Like that?”

You look out the huge window and Jake’s eyes stay on you, the marvelous city lights reflect upon your face, a sparkle manifesting in your eyes that is just as bright. As if every speck that is meant to shine only ever does so for you. it’s only evoked by the smile knitted with the rapture of existing on your face. It’s a little unjust – Jake feels, the realization that no matter what city he ends up in, no matter what roof he’s under and what kind of flavors on his tongue you’ll remain extravagant.

“Something that brings you comfort. when the world gets too loud, where do you find your silence?” You continue after a few seconds of quietness.

“I don’t think I have that.” He answers honestly.

There’s a rare vulnerability coating his words, cladding his being, it’s in the way the words fall from his lips, in the way he looks at you and it’s enough for you look back at him with similar vulnerability. The softening of your gaze does not summon his impulses to the surface. He doesn’t feel like running, instead he settles, right under Sakura petals. with a bated breath and you with a stirring heart that comes to life with emotions twinging into something much deeper than sexual attraction.

“Do you believe in hope?” you’re acutely aware of the confusion that fills his being at your question, raking through his mind for an answer that would make enough sense, deemed sane enough to give.

Please let me in you want to tell him don’t hide yourself from me you wish to speak yet you’re aware of the vow you’ve made. Of keeping yourself in check, never too far in. not this time.

“I don’t remember what hope feels like.” He starts, eyes flickering between yours and your chest tightens, not necessarily out of pity but rather as if a mirror had metalized and you’re looking at yourself. Relics of a human who has been too scratched up to recall anything else. There’s nothing as heavy as carrying around a bruised heart and more than anyone, you have memorized the weight.

“What is your hope like?” he asks, tilting his head at you with full attentiveness and your lips tilt up into a gentle smile, one that feels like soothing waves of comfort upon his heart.

“My hope is a lot of things.” You breathe out a chuckle “My hope is seeing Niki happy and healthy. My hope is seeing people’s worries flee their eyes when you help them with something or seeing the flowers I’ve been watering finally come to full bloom right under my gaze.” You trail off sheepishly, your smile growing the more words spill from your mouth “My biggest hope remains in Japan.”

“Japan?” he asks, and you nod along.

“I want to open a bakery in Japen. A cute little, small one where I sell my baked goods and I get to witness people’s smile upon their first bite.” Jake sees it all in your face and in your words – the pure euphoria that comes solely from dreaming. Not in desperate attempts to find happiness in melancholic hours of your everyday life but rather while floating away alongside the clouds, elicited by what could have been and what could be.

It is a little foolish, he finds it to be. He had long given up on looking for what cannot be tangible, what he cannot sense between the grasp of his fingers. Yet within his dark sky a singular gleaming star is born, sparkling into life and it is merely coaxed by the way you’re looking at him right now.

“That sounds magical bunny.” He comments and it’s genuine, coloring every letter yet for unascertained reasons you find yourself longing to give him touches of your magic.

Though deprived of unbridled happiness. You don’t recall moments when you got to enjoy crumbs of gaiety without worries of tomorrow or the future invading your mind. Hence dreaming, hope remains a taste of joy amidst the bitterness that comes with living and growing older.

You can’t help but grow a want to give him the same hope.

“If you could do anything you want do right now, without consequences and without worries,” you start, voice much quieter than before “what would it be?”

He is silent for a moment, his eyes drifting to the window and this time it’s you with a lingering gaze at him, overtaken by the glaze of his irises.

“I want to be able to love music like I used to.”

Aleit the months you have spent by his side, beholding the facets he likes to wear and witnessing the rare moments where it’s just him. Right at this moment, it’s just Jake and his grief. Tinted with a glacial agony that only comes from forcibly letting go of love. For them to pull your heart out from the unrelenting clutches of your hands, and yet you’re empty handed.

A glacial agony that runs through your bloodline just as deep.

“Can’t that be your hope?”

“No.” he laughs swiftly, but it’s void of emotions, not a spark of humor can be distinguished, no happiness “Music can never be my hope. Not again.”

“Why?” you ask, tentatively “Why can’t you love music the same way you did?”

Jake never gives you an answer, he isn’t unkind in any way, not vicious in any sense. He is as placid as still waters, nowhere near as wild as your heartbeat as he smiles at you, it’s benign.

can't you see the human in my being? the same one clad with agonizing torment? the one with scars that are deeper than i could ever show?

“Should we go to sleep? We have a long day tomorrow.”

Your conversation with Jake haunts your mind for much longer than you anticipated. When you lie your head on your pillow you don’t drift to sleep like you had hoped. Instead, you stay awake for a little longer while thinking about his words. They all lead you to more questions. After seeing the amount of crowd that had been waiting for him at the airport you realize he is truly Korea’s biggest celebrity so what exactly happened for him to leave Paranoia? How did he end up here with clear longing for music? What is stopping him? And why does everyone around him seem to be ignoring his clear symptoms of OCD?

Nothing makes sense to you, not him or the people you’re working with. Most importantly the ache that has nestled in your chest at the way he smiled at you stays the most confusing.

You tell yourself you should look up Paranoia, yet you end up falling asleep with your phone between the clutches of your hands.

The next morning comes with a gentle breeze swirling the streets of Paris, taking your thoughts away with the passing wind and the ache that was present last night is long perished, eluded by Jake’s mitigated face that greets you as soon as you’re downstairs. Your sleepiness long forgotten as you lock eyes. His warmth traverses through all the space you create between you as you settle two chairs away from him. Right next to Sunghoon who greets you with a fist bump.

Albeit the unfamiliarity, you find yourself smiling down at your plate.

You and Jay go through Jake’s schedule together. With him not having anything till a Prada event that is set later that evening, it feels more like an off day than anything. As the team gathers to eat breakfast Jennie tells you’re free to do whatever you want all morning.

Sunghoon and Sunoo decide to go back to sleep while Jay grumbles about promises he made with Soojin. It’s only you and Jake. Despite Jennie’s assurance to you that you could spend the day alone if you wanted to. You deemed that to be way too lonely, and boresome for you.

And so, you end up sticking to Jake’s side as he strolls through the city, with an undeniable joy woven into his features, in the steps he takes. It’s a refreshing sight to behold. Has the same joy nestling into you, overtaken and completely dismantling any negative thoughts you had. You never imagined a day to come like this one. Where you’ll able to see him so carefree, smiles find home onto his lips easier, laughs escapes him candidly.

Albeit the couple of bodyguards and a cameraman following you around - something about filming a vlog for Hype’s youtube channel – he looks the happiest you’ve ever seen him. You keep your distance, not wanting to disturb or get caught on camera on accident.

Never too far in. you remind yourself.

It’s only after you pass by a couple of bakeries that the small group of his team stops moving, therefore halting your steps as well. You, overtaken with confusion watch as slowly they separate, as if drawing a path for you and at the end Jake is standing there, waiting for you with a lopsided smile, induced with charm as he beckons you with a wave of his hand.

“Come here, bunny.”  With a racing heart, limbs traced with chagrin at everyone’s eyes on you, you walk to him.

As soon as you’re close enough, his palm envelopes yours with a tug, it is so abrupt, you don’t get enough time to settle into the feeling. Of having him this close to you outside the realms of his bedroom before he pulls you into one of the bakeries. It is so unexpected, and that is solely why your heartbeats are so loud it rings in your ear. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself, even after Jake had ordered three different kinds of pastries and urges you to try each one.

“How does it t taste?” He asks, as you’re standing outside, and his eyes are pasted onto you.

A dark flush seems to have found perennial refuge upon your cheeks, an exposure to all the clamorous beats coursing through your chest, as if your heart is about to ooze through your blush, you chew slowly on the cream cheese Danish, it feels like an explosion of flavours in your mouth. The cream cheese balances the sweetness and the berries on top give it freshness.

It has your eyes widening with an all too known gleam, excitement courses through your body and you hop your feet in place as you face him.

“It’s really yummy!” You reply with evident enthusiasm tinting your voice, awakening his own.

“Let me try.” He tells you, lips curling up into a grin, an underlining endearment at your reaction.

You nod eagerly, just as you’re about to cut the piece of goods in half with the assumption that he probably doesn’t want to eat from the same place your mouth has touched, his hand encircles your wrist, a phantom of gasp scurrying out your lips as he guides your hand with the Danish in it to his mouth, you’re forced to stand on your tiptoes as he takes a bite.

Your heart pulsates against your ribcage, watching him with incredulity all over your face.

Unlike you, Jake is completely nonchalant to the way he acts, instead his eyebrow only raises slightly at the taste.

“y-you don’t like it?”

“It’s okay.” He shrugs and you snort playfully, shaking your head as his grip loosens around your wrist.

“I forgot you’re like impossible to please.”

“It’s not that. I just think yours taste better.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah, the stuff you make taste so much better.”

His words shatter through your vow with facility. Dispelling the promises you repeated to yourself as if they’re mere specks of dust. You don’t have enough of stability to focus on what fact first, the one where he admits he has been eating your baked goods that you bring to work all along or the one where he spills compliments into you as if they’re meaningless, as if their sentiment doesn’t overwhelm your being.

“Stop lying.” You whisper, eyes fixated on him.

“I never lie, you know this.” He says, effortlessly “try a different one.” He urges, pointing at the leftover pastries.

Absentmindedly you nod, with flushed cheeks and an increasing heartbeat. A heat seared with a circle around your wrist as if his hand is still around you. Despite his touches that you have felt upon your skin, in ways deeper than you’d ever admit outside the walls of his bedroom. Unwittingly your body makes room for one more sentiment to nestle into you. Not with force, but rather serene.

The same one that fills the tips of your fingers as you this time extend your hand to him, he leans down, eyes locked with yours as he takes a bite from the dessert, right over where your lipstick stained.

“This one taste better.” He hums, and you swallow around nothing, deeming yourself closer to demented with the way you keep staring at his lips.

“I like the other one more.”

“Probably because it’s sweeter.” He chuckles, swiping right at the corner of your lips with his thumb, you almost shriek with an itch to curl onto yourself “Your lipstick was a little messed up.”

“Thanks.” You mumble, inadvertently bringing your fingers to your lips right where he touched.

The following hours unfold with you two going in and out of stores. With notorious intentions like buying gifts for your friends or simply to check out something that managed to catch your attention. Jake follows with a small smile gracing his face, mainly at your overflowing exuberance as you drag him from one place to another.

“What do you think?” you ask, looking into the mirror, a light brown coat draped over you.

Jake hums, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes trail over your figure. At the lack of appease in his gaze, you face him, grinning at him and twirling around “So?” You urge, and he could only shake his head with a soft laugh, amused by the way you seem to pull it from him unequivocally.

“It’s cute bunny,”

“But?”

“But I think the baby blue would suit your skin tone so much more. This brings a gloomy and serious aura to you.” He adds.

“But I wanna be serious.” You mumble, turning to the mirror with a pout adorning your face.

Jake tips his head to the side, hands in his pockets as his eyes focus on you. primarily you end up trying the baby blue one and just like he said, it suits you so much better, bringing out the colors in your eyes rather than dim them.

“I like it!” you clap your hands diligently, perked up compared to when you tried the one before.

“Get it.” He encourages and you would have nodded eagerly if not your eyes have shifted in the mirror, your attention stolen by a pair of earrings, a different type of gleam takes place onto your face, one that is never directed at yourself.

“Oh my god Niki would love these earrings!”

Jake watches as you shrug off your coat, long forgotten as you make your way to check out the jewelry that had caught your attention. Aleit disappointed he isn’t surprised; he had noticed this tendency of yours coming to the surface all day. Managing to find something worthy to buy for your friends in every store the two of you had stumbled in. anyone but yourself it seems.

Putting yourself as the last resort appears to come to you naturally, constantly at the back of your mind is your own enjoyment, finding it elsewhere and it merely exists in spending your money on other people. Truthfully it did infuriate him more than he’d ever admit. For some odd reason something akin to disillusionment curls into the bit of his stomach each time he watches you casting aside a piece you originally were enthralled with.

Abandoning yourself then leaving with the waves with no intention of coming back.

He strolls behind you leisurely, eyeing the pieces of jewelry and pauses in front of a certain necklace. A sliver chain with a bunny to be specific, it’s rather simple yet the pure design of the bunny has a small smile stretching upon his face. It’s uncanny similarity to you has him purchasing the necklace without much thought and it isn’t until he’s at the cashier paying, he realizes he foolishly followed his impulses.

Who is he to gift you something as endearing as a necklace that reminds him of you? it’s absolutely ridiculous.

“What did you get?” you ask once you’re out the store, eyeing the small bag between his hands.

“Nothing important.” He replies, averting his eyes as he attempts to hide the bag behind his legs. It’s a clear indication of running, an avoidance that you allow. Nodding to yourself.

Never too far in.

It’s only a bit later when you’re both drawn in by a crowd that you catch yourself too far in, Jake stops, with a wandering gaze pasting onto a busker, playing in the middle of people with immense enthusiasm, it’s the passion coloring his gaze and the smile stretching upon his face as if the sun has only rose today for his music to fill the streets. You’re not taken away by his tunes rather by the man standing next to you.

Involuntarily your eyes dart over Jake’s face earnestly to find answers, His eyes are softened, tinged with longing, yearning. One like missing an old friend that you have spent countless nights with, or a soul crushing longing for an old lover that you cannot longer see, touch. The ache a soldier feels for one day to come back home.

Despite the love, pain remains a constant in every single one and you see it in his gaze.

Silently you walk to place money into the busker’s hat, and he throws you a thankful grin. Jake watches you with a gentle smile, a foreign warmth engulfing his being as you walk back to him, you with a craving dripping from your fingertips, one to disassemble his intricate sorrows and him for the veneration infiltrating his bosom at how effortlessly kind you are.

“Should we go back to hotel?”

“Yeah. let’s go back.” You reply with a smile of your own, adoring your face.

The Prada event, unlike the last one, goes by fluidly with Jake’s glamour taking by the cameras and you stand close by, with a hushed secret curled into the palms of your hands. One stroke of glimmer amid the silence in your mind as you watch him. It’s akin to privilege at knowing no lens, no matter the price could ever capture his beauty the way your eyes do. like given the pleasure to behold the flutter of colorful butterfly wings for the first time, you smile faintly to yourself.

The afterparty that follows goes just as lithely, alongside the buzz in your system due to the couple of shots you took. You feel great, dancing with Sunoo and Sunghoon to the blaring music. It’s only an hour later, when a thin sheen of sweat covers your neck that you take a seat right next to Jay. Your eyes heedfully searching the place for a glimpse of your boss.

“Where’s Jake?” you finally ask, turning to face the latter.

“He went back to the hotel.” He answers, “He also told me you should enjoy yourself and don’t worry about going back early for him.”

“I forgot he doesn’t really like parties.” You comment, your fingers picking at your red latex dress. A vague disappointment blooms ever so slightly in you, tracing your veins merely driven by the fact that Jake isn’t here to see it.

“Yeah, not really his scene.” Jay answers with a breath of a chuckle.

At that you perk up, your disappointment is momentarily pushed to the side as an idea swirl in your mind. Coming to life by the questions that have haunted your mind the previous night

“I never would have thought that an ex-rockstar hates parties.” You comment, clearing your throat as you side eye him.

“He’s gone to enough parties to last a lifetime. Now he’s like an old man when it comes to late nights. He’d rather sleep early or stay home.” Jay replies with a shrug.

“Was he that wild in Paranoia?”

“I wouldn’t say wild but more like normal rockstar wild, you know?” He answers vaguely and it only feeds your confusion, filling you with even more prodding questions.

You chew on your bottom lip, contemplating on what to say next. Perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, blurring your filter into nonexistence or it was the curiosity invoked in you by your conversation last night. Or maybe it was the grief haunting Jake’s essence, as if skin draped upon his bones and he cannot seem to take it off.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you ask, and as he leans closer to you to hear you clearly, amidst the chimes of music you ponder for a second if this is the suitable place for you to obtain answers.

“Anything.” He replies right away, and you inch closer, your shoulders touching.

“Throughout my stay with Jake these past few months I’ve noticed some things.”

“Okay? Like what?”

“I’ve been with him almost every second of his everyday life and I’ve noticed that he has some serious OCD symptoms,” Jay falls into a nerve wrecking silence for you, it’s ample for the seeds of doubts in your mind to grow horrendously brisk “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping or perhaps saying something I shouldn’t. my concerns only come from worry for him.” You continue, your eyes darting over his features rapidly in search of a sign.

“It’s okay yn, I know.” he responds.

“You know?” you question, a frown taking over your face quickly.

“Yeah,” He sighs, as if it’s a secret that have finally broke into the world although it’s only you who listens, its existence hangs heavy “It’s pretty obvious if you know him well enough that he has undiagnosed OCD or something along those lines. He probably even knows it at this point.”

“At this point? If you had doubts, why didn’t you suggest he goes to therapy? Surely that would make everything easier for him.”  Your frown is only enhanced by your growing questions.

“I have. But he doesn’t want to so I’m not gonna make him.”

“But why?”

“Because he would have to talk about what he doesn’t want to relive yet. And I cannot blame him for that or take it away from him.”

But what is it that he doesn’t wish to relive? What kind of misery has been casted upon his soul for his wish to flee to remain? An inexorable desire draped with facet of darkness.

“doesn’t that make it harder for you as well?”

“yn he’s not incompetent. You’ve noticed how he deals with and alters his triggers so he’s able to function normally,” he starts, eyes pouring into yours with conviction, a strive to plug out your doubts with vigor “I’m his manager but I’ve been his best friend for years. I trust him and when he does eventually deem himself ready to see someone about it then good for him.” His lips swiftly curl up into a gentle smile as if trying to dismantle your worries “right now he’s handling it really well considering everything and we could only have his back throughout it all.”

Your words wither at the tip of your tongue, not with incentives like contentment but rather with realization that what lies in front of you is something much more tremendous than you thought. It isn’t solved by scratching the surface or a few shared words of comfort between souls. It is attempting to free your closet of skeletons but to cower in fear every time your fingers graze the doorknob. It’s to spend every breathing moment in searching for light only for night to persist, for tears to descend upon your cheeks even after swearing to find happiness in the trivial things.

It’s an anomaly, constantly growing the need to abandon your heart, merely because it bears too heavy, too much.

You understand more than anyone.

So, you stay quiet.

With an ache dragging through your limbs, you make it into your room with a sigh. You immediately throw yourself on the bed as soon as your heels are off. Yet you don’t get to settle into the softness of your sheets before a thud captures your attention. With a furrow you peak at the ground and notice a small bag that you surely didn’t buy has fallen.

You forthwith sit up recognizing it as the bag that was between the clutches of Jake’s hands earlier. your tiredness replaced with an intrigued gleam as you open the bag.

What greets you is not something you have prepared for, not with a hazy mind and surely not with a heart as fragile as yours, it trembles with the scent enveloping the box. His scent. it courses through your being with vivacity, one that has your eyes widening as a necklace with a small bunny pendant stares right back at you.

Your fingers caress the bunny softly, the same way your eyebrows drop and interchangeable from the feelings creasing your being, running alongside your blood is nothing far from adoration. It’s in the way your chest warms with magnificent vehemence. As if the sun has finally shone after years of unwavering cloudiness, sunrays sundering through and it all translates into a smile dispersing across your lips, mostly uninvited.

Taking note of the card hiding in the bag, you take it out and read it.

For whenever your hope wavers

May this bunny help liquidate all your worries.

Your lips curve up in a smile induced with the magnitude of his words, albeit they’re not long they still touch your soul with warmth, evident with the way your irises shake with your heartbeat as they trail over the words over and over again. Placing your palm upon your heart you feel it reverberate, and you let yourself sink into the feeling. Abandoning the confines of the past, of what’s morally correct and what you should do. For tonight and maybe tonight only you allow yourself to feel, for your frail heart to find purpose in such minuscule words and for Jake’ scent to invade every fiber of your being with serene.

You allow yourself to reach for your phone, your fingers scrolling through the contacts, and you call him.

Jake answers on the third ring.

“Hello?” his voice is a tad deeper on the phone, enough to have you sucking in a breath “bunny?” he calls after your silence has lasted.

“Thank you.” you whisper softly.

“Mhm?”

“For the gift. It’s so pretty Jake, I love it.” Despite the fact that he can’t see your face, he can discern your sincerity through the cadence of your voice. It is enough for him to fall silent for a couple of minutes, listening to you breathe.

“How was the party?” he finally asks, evading your previous conversation.

“Really fun!” your usual liveliness is sneaking back into your voice and it has him smiling “I’m a bit tipsy I’m gonna be honest.” You continue, throwing your head back onto the pillows with a sigh.

“Yeah, Sunghoon sent me a video of you dancing.”

“What? Oh my god!” you exclaim, burying yourself into the pillows with a whine, albeit a bit childish, strangely it doesn’t annoy him, growing accustomed to your antics.

“You got some sick moves yn.” He quips.

“I’m gonna kill Sunghoon.” You grumble, words muffled by the pillow but audible enough for him to chuckle, the sound goes straight to your tummy, breathing life into butterflies to flap their wings “I probably looked like a mess too.” You trail off, turning on your back.

“You always look beautiful.” He retorts, softly and despite giving permission for your feelings to unfold, your being isn’t ready for his first words of flattery to fall upon your ears.

It has your breath hitching audibly, a shift in the air as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Don’t let it get to your head though.” He taunts, taking note of your lingering silence.

“I won’t don’t worry. I’m not Jake Sim.”

“I’m the humblest celebrity to exist what are you on about?”

“You just called yourself a celebrity you’re not humble in any way.” You reply with a snort.

“That’s just facts.”

“Just like how you’re full of yourself is facts?” you muse, rolling onto your side and yet finding yourself squeezing your thighs together at the chuckle he lets loose.

“Since when were you allowed to tease me this much, mhm?” he replies, tone dropping lower with volume, his playfulness is still apparent, it feels closer to warning, one that is whispered before his teeth sink in to you.

“My apologizes boss.” You say, with an evident irony coloring your tone.

A tranquil silence follows, woven with your placid mind yet raving heartbeat. It’s a paradoxical state to be in, especially with how hazy your thoughts are coming out to be. It doesn’t give you room to decipher the reason behind lust climbing up your spine and taking over every coherent sentence you could mutter. It is absolutely unhinged how even the sound of his breathing reminds you of his mouth pressed against your ear as he’s buried deep inside of you.

“You should get some sleep, or you’ll probably feel like shit in the morning,” his voice cuts through your quietness with vigor albeit its lower tone, settles deeper into your being, painting the inside of your brain dark with desire.

“Probably.” You reply breathlessly, eyes dropping, heavy lidded.

“you okay?”

Snapping yourself out of a daze is a strenuous task, one that you are too fatigued for and yet you try, clearing your throat.

“Yeah, just got a lot on my mind. You’re right I should sleep.”

“What are you thinking about?” his voice no higher than a whisper, as if he also could read the contents of your mind, take a look into all the aberrant fantasies manifesting.

“Nothing. You should go to sleep as well.”

“What’s on your mind bunny?” It’s no longer a question rather an order, induced with his stern tone and it has you falling apart in all the same ways he knows, all the same ways you hate.

“You.” you admit with a whisper, as if your embarrassment will subside yet your blush remains.

“What about me baby?”

“You can’t call me that.” You whine, unwittingly burying your face into the pillow yet again, your thighs rubbing together with hopes to relief some of the heat crawling over your being

“You hate it?” he asks with a bated breath, a small victory in knowing you’re not the only one affected by this.

“no.” your voice fades out, overtaken by your heaving chest “Do you like it?”

“Jake.” You don’t mean to be as whiney, yet they spill uncontrollably.

“Tell me.” he demands, oozing with paramountcy there’s no other possible way for you not to fall into him with submission.

“..I like it.” You breathe out, your underwear drenching with your arousal unfairly fast, it has you chewing on your lower lip, your fingers trail an invisible path on your thigh.

“What were you thinking about bunny?” he asks, the same arousal flooding his being, persevering in tainting you both.

“Just you, all over me.” you reply, your words falling with hushed whispers, bated breaths.

“What do you want all over you?”

“Your hands.”

“Where do you want my hands?” his questions stay persisting, It has you squirming upon your sheets unsure if you’re looking for an escape or for his voice to seep into you. He hums when you’re too quiet, urging for your words to follow and you swallow around nothing.

“Want them inside of me.”

“Yeah? what about my mouth?” his own voice grows strained, evidence of his fingers trembling against the rails of control.

“Want it too. Want it so bad.” Your confession falls boundlessly, no time for them to straggle by your deepening blush

“I wanna taste you too. Want you to come all over my tongue.” The mewl you let out at his words is unanticipatedly sinful, enough to have him groaning. A myriad of pictures flash in your mind, each one of them has him in it, infused with deviant touches and lustful kisses.

“Are you touching yourself?” his tone is gentle, a muzzled mutter in contrast to the situation you both found yourself in, you shake your head vigorously even though he cannot see you, you aren’t sure how is it possible for something as trivial as the lilt of someone’s tone to permeate your being this diligently.

“No but I want to.” Your filter is long shattered, your desires spill with nothing holding them back now.

“Don’t” he warns, and you bite back a whimper, swallow it down with vigor “I’m coming to your room. Wait for me.” He ends with a promise, snapping you out of your dazed enjoyment.

“Hurry.”

Is your last request before your call ends. With an itch in your fingers, you hold back with an immense force you don’t know how you manage to find. That is until ten minutes pass with no sign of Jake and soon after the ten minutes turn into fifteen, you roll off your bed with a huff, mind running a little wild with worry at his absence and an underlining exasperation at your lust being unattended to.

And so, you make your way to his room, albeit the throb of tiredness still evident in your bones, you knock on his door with too much of a force to deemed discreet. You don’t get to linger for hope, one like praying you didn’t disturb anyone else. Before the door opens, a somewhat disheveled Jake comes into view. The first few buttons of his white dress shirt in unattended to, exposing the top of his chest and perhaps you spend way too many fleeting moments staring.

“Bunny- fuck” he breaths out with a draining groan.

“Is everything okay? You said you were coming but- “before your sentence could fully come out your mouth, your eyes shift, darting to the figure behind him and your expression melts off vastly unexpected.

“Jake! Come back!” Soojin yells with a whine, kicking her feet on the ground as she trashes around the bed, discernibly drunk.

“Is she okay?” you ask, eyes fliting between the two.

“She’s just drunk and a little troubled.” He explains warily, running his hand through his hair “I’m sorry about this I’ll make it up to you later, okay? I- “

“Jake!!” Soojin whine cuts into your conversation once again and your smile curl up with force “I’m coming” he retorts, turning his head at her for a moment before facing you once again “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Is there anything I could do to help?” you ask, concern etched upon your face and the sight warms his chest the tiniest bit.

“Not really. It’s something between me and her so you don’t have to worry about it.” He explains.

Between me and her.

It’s unjust, how hastily a couple of words can founderwith your confidence with so little effort, for them to dispel every emotion that was flowing through your veins and an abyss to comes to life in the middle of your chest instead. Your star unceremoniously plugged out from between the grasp of your fingers only for you to recognize it was never your star to begin with, your sky is not yours either, it is one everyone was looking at all along, inscribed with the same longing twirling in your eyes.

Your paralyzing idiocy remains a part of you and your insecurity stares right back at you with derision, how stupid to ever think of yourself worthy enough of anything ever fluorescing scarcely for you.

“I’m sorry bunny. I promise to make it up to you.” he pledges, and your eyes soften despite the heaviness weighing your heart.

“it’s okay. I’ll leave you to it then.” Just as you’re about to turn around to leave, Jake’s palm envelopes yours, halting your movement and you look at him in question.

“Can you please keep this a secret from Jay as well? I don’t want him to know about this.” His words twist the knife deeper into your heart, a puddle of your misery lies beneath your feet.

“I get it. It’s between you two I won’t tell anyone.” Your smile is strained, and your nails dig into his palm unwittingly.

You return to your bed heavier than you left. Heeseung’s comfort from a couple of weeks ago swirls around your mind and you manage to find solace in them. Albeit momentarily it’s ample for you to doze off, head plagued with thoughts of Jake and Soojin. As your interest has seemed to grow immensely in him during this trip you can’t help but let your thoughts wander. Evoked by what kind of past the two must have. You can’t help but feel like Jake has some sort of affection towards her, one that he cannot seem to let go of. An old flame that you always end up crawling back to although the burns adoring your skin.

The next morning comes with a minor ache forming in your head, not too bothersome and it slowly wears off as you shower and get ready for your day, it’s only when you’re in the middle of your make-up that a knock on your room door halts your routine. Surprise sneaking into your expression when you open it, and Jake is standing there. You invite him in after he greets you and he ends up sitting on your bed as you finish the last bit of your make-up. Eyes dark as they assess your body appreciatively, watching with devoted concentration as you apply your lip-gloss on.

“Can you help me?” you ask coyly, catching his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, your bunny necklace between your fingers.

“Of course.” Jake replies instantly, voice doused in emotions as he walks towards you.

“How’s Soojin?” you ask once he’s close enough, handing him the necklace.

“She’s all good now don’t worry.” He answers, although his tone is massively void, clearly uninterested.

you move your hair to the side and out of the way, his fingertips delicately brush over the skin of your neck, causing shivers to erupt upon your skin as he gently clasps the necklace, you could sense something unfurling in the depths of your stomach. You feel his chest against your back, every inhale, exhale vibrates through your being all the same. You lock gazes in the mirror, and you wither away, akin to dried autumn leaves, easily crushed by the force of his eyes as he slowly leans down, placing feather light kisses on the nape of your neck.

“Did you guys figure out whatever it was between you and her?” you breath out, tilting your neck further to grant him better access, his hands sneaking to your waist as he pulls you flush against him.

“Mhm.” His kisses turn unforgiving, melting your thoughts.

“W-what is it that you guys were talking about anyways?” your curiosity in unrelenting, pushing at the roof of your mouth with force.

“I don’t wanna talk about Soojin right now bunny. It’s nothing of importance.” He grumbles against your skin, dousing you in arousal as his lips trail up, kissing behind your ears and you shiver “I promised to make it up to you remember?” he whispers against the shell of your ears and you shiver, your palms tracing the veins on his arms.

“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly.

Evidently your doubts leave momentarily, overtaken by the pleasure he inflicts on you, and it all translates into you two both giggling over breakfast, throwing teasing remarks at each other and unaware of the way Sunoo and Sunghoon are staring at you both with evident bewilderment etched onto their face.

“What the fuck?” Sunghoon speaks, tone laced with shock as his eyes flit between you two “Is Jake fucking chuckling?”

“Pussy is really one magical thing.” Sunoo murmurs, shaking his head with now disgust climbing over his face.

“Amen.” Sunghoon replies with a snort.

→ taglist : @slutforsjy @wonwoos-wineparty @nxzz-skz @piripurora

@vousty @realrintaro @slut4hee @chartrucewhore @iveivory

@hearteyesforseungsung @jooniesbears-blog @hee4lifer @babrieeee

@mandoscyare @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @softieluvsyou @seunghancore

@chaewonshoney @beommii

@fuxktaekook @antonsgirlfriend @nessas-archive @lukeys-giggle

@arikazu @pochamocharoll @chlodavids @jakeyverse @belovedsthings

@vveebee @duhgurl @niniissus @dreamiestay

@hmusunoo @lhspeachie @illvding @not-very-slay-of-you @luvrseung

@tanisha2060 @enhabun @sngleehee

(bold cant be tagged)

[jenanigans1207]

Did I watch the sk8 OVA? Did I watch the sk8 OVA? OBVIOUSLY IT WAS ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS I DID TODAY!

Holy shit did I miss my babies so much!! And I have so much to say!!!

-Miya being genuinely good friends with Reki and Langa and being so comfortable around them? To like affectionately tease them instead of making fun of them?

-MIYA BEING INVITED INTO REKIS HOUSE AND CHARMING HIS MOM AND BEING IMMEDIATELY ACCEPTED INTO THE FAMILY??

-the way Langa is clearly just already a fully integrated part of the family with how he just walks around and nobody reacts to him being there? MY RENGA HEART

-everyone in Reki’s clothes??? How big they were on Miya???

-MIYA AND REKIS SISTER BEING ADORABLE TOGETHER ARE YOU KIDDING?

-literally everything renga but when Langa was the one giving Reki a piggyback and Reki was just resting his head on top of Langa’s? And Langa just looking like a lovesick fool??

-REKI AND LANGA AND THE UMBRELLA???

-also renga doing the infinity fist bump again? Literally renga nation won so hard in this OVA im thriving

-Shadow precious baby my beloved

-TEENAGE MATCHABLOSSOM BEFORE THEY GOT INTO SKATEBOARDING ALREADY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER?

-please they’re so freaking stupid who let them be in the same class I would die for them

-I did not want to see anything Adam related, especially not his weird implied kinky shit and him just staring at a GIANT photo of Langa??

-and then his weird ass relationship with Tadashi with more of the weird dog-themed shit. Like putting gel in his “coat” and talking about how he’s been without his collar? Adam pls die challenge 2k25

-I will forever be an Adam hate account and this is just giving me further ammunition

-but okay when Tadashi smiled at the end? Pls he’s so precious and he deserves better

-MANAGER AT SHADOW’S HOUSE WHILE HES IN HIS S COSTUME?? And he just made a damn fool of himself ohhh shadow I love you

-the new ending is fantastic but I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t miss the palm trees lmao

Overall a 12/10 this was so worth the wait. I’m grinning so big and it’s so freaking good to have my babies back again. I’ve missed them. I can’t wait to rb every gif set of the renga umbrella scene!!!!!!!

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Snow Moon in Leo ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Full Snow Moon was in Leo on 12 February🦁This is one of the last FMs before March’s Spring Equinox, our true aenergetic new year. With this Sun/Leo/5H aenergy and the Snow Moon’s theme revolving around ‘introspection’, as part of your New Year’s Resolution or something, if you must make a clear intent, intend the year to be one of Abundance and Prosperity specifically through FUN AND PLAY!!🤩💫🎉

That’s just how it is with Leo/5H aenergy, babe. Fun in the Sun~🌞🐈All things considered, wouldn’t you agree that Humanity deserves a LYFE of FUN AND PLAY whilst remaining considerate and thoughtful? Fuck 'psychopathy-based capitalism' and bring in the era of Solarpunk!🌤Abundance for all, sensibly and in harmony with the Planet, something like that? Yeah, that should be possible provided enough of us DEMAND that Reality🥰🌬🌊

Anyway, this Leo FM, whichever House the Moon falls in your natal chart, just know that she’s inviting you to reconnect with your Inner Child🪺The pure-hearted child who—probably—saw itself with much higher Integrity before the hustle of adolescence robbed it of its Innocence🌼

So many of us—and this isn’t just a Gen MZ thing either—have unknowingly sustained so much discipline trauma caused by sociopathic authority figures who abused their power to subjugate us—whether through the ‘family system’ or education system; religious system or economic system; and whatever other kinds of System existing in Society🚂

‘They never pay the slaves enough so they can get free, just enough so they can stay alive and come back to work.’ – Charles Bukowski

One way or another, every one of us was forced to devote ourselves to things and tasks that essentially didn’t matter in the grand scheme of our Highest Intended Destiny. It’s caused so much fear and chaos bubbling deep in the psyche🫕This Full Snow Moon in Leo, use this aenergy to further release those chains and shackles of trauma and fear—and even a sense of unworthiness—so that by Spring Equinox, you’re ready as heck to embrace or embark(!) on a new chapter of Life of Liberty~🎮🗽🎇

It all starts in the mind, baby. What's your agreement? In this new paradigm, if you ain’t gon be walkin' at your own pace and makin' your own rules—sensibly and responsibly (Leo themes)—what even is the point of having survived your Life thus far~?🏍

in the feels: Child by NCT MARK

docu: The Enslavement of the Middle Class on Jake Tran

deck-bottom: Ace of Swords Rx, Red Geographer (Marco Polo) & Priestess of Integrity

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Illuminate the World with Your Passion

c h i l d – Ace of Pentacles

Do you remember the small activities you enjoyed as a kid?🎲The grownups might’ve called them your ‘hobbies’, but to you they simply felt like things and endeavours that were ‘natural’ for you to engage in. Natural inclinations would fit the bill better. Some of these activities held a puzzle piece of what you’re meant to do well into adulthood🧩

The child in you was inherently attracted to them because subconsciously you were training yourself in the Art of just that very engagement⛳️For instance, say that you were unusually ‘passionate’ about jigsaw puzzle as a kid, this in itself could be your ‘hint’ at how when you’d become a grownup, that mind that loves to solve problems and figure out the bigger picture would be utilised to solve puzzles and mysteries that exist in the world🎯

So just like that, even an unusual pull towards playing jigsaw puzzles could hold a glimmering inkling that you’re meant to be a detective or a criminologist or a psychologist, or whatever resonates, really🏸OK, so this is just one example of a scenario—bottom line is: remember some activities that you used to be so unusually drawn to doing and get refamiliarized with them NOW~🌞

p l a y – 7 of Wands Rx

Why? Because the ignited passion—or reignited if you’d forgotten them for a while—could open up a path of understanding deep within your psyche, what would lead you to figuring out what you’re meant to do in this next chapter of your Life~!🔥Leo is the ruler of the 5H, there lies our hobbies and innate, even special, interests what would LINK us with others of similar views and values☃️❄️⛄️

Those other people with similar tastes and possibly even goals, can be understood by your 11H—House of Aquarius; House of our Communities. Here with the 7 of Wands in reverse, you’re being invited to redefine what ‘networking’ means for you on a deeply spiritual fashion. Who are your people, babe? Actually, what kind of person do you even want to be perceived as?🍂

You VIBE attracts your TRIBE, remember? And most importantly, with all of these natural inclinations that you are surely very apt at, what do you want to do with them and who do you want to inspire?🌻What typa collective can you uplift with your warm sunshine? Hmm, people who live passionately are indeed warm🥰

i n n o c e n c e – 2 of Cups

As you maintain your vibrations high and feel safe in your daily activities that are, hopefully, aligned with your 5H inclinations, you’ll be met with miraculous situations where the Universe puts people and events in your path what would only enhance your experience in those 5H pursuits that you resonate with🥁

In essence, with this Full Snow Moon in Leo, I’m seeing that you’ll feel much less burdened by the duties of Life that in the grand scheme of everything don’t feel that big for your Soul🪕You get that? I don’t see you becoming irresponsible, not at all; I’m only seeing you more able to prioritise what’s truly, truly essential to do at a given time🎲

And so, with that renewed mindset, or attitude, so to speak, you become less and less hard on yourself and even less do you give a fuck about what others think about the stage/phase of your Life’s development right now💖It’s very liberating, but even more importantly, you’ll see just how fast you manifest everything that’s essential to you right now by just being… lighthearted and easy-going💝

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Astrologer (William Lilly) & Priestess of Illumination

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Sparkles of Courage in a Terrified World

c h i l d – Knight of Cups Rx

Wow, the appearance of the Knight of Cups in reverse here is very unique for you, Pile 2. Rather than this being you, I feel more strongly that this card is depicting your understanding of how the people around you, or the world in general, tend to be such timid creatures🐇It’s like, from quite a young age you were already deeply aware, if not disturbed, by the fact that most people were never brave enough to follow their own passions. They’re afraid of listening to their own hearts; and it has always been such a bummer for you to realise that all by yourself🐋

Generally speaking, it’s because you’re one of those very brave individuals who’d always put yourself first before anybody else’s opinions or demands. It’s because you’re quite ‘spiritual’ in the sense that you truly believe in what or where your Heart tells you to go~🐾

Funny thing is, there is simply so much medicine in this courage, reserved for only those who are also finding ways to listen more to their Hearts. But for others who’ve devoted themselves to being sheeples? You appear kinda reckless and they’re gonna have a field trip gossiping about you when you make just one tiny mistake… but so what?🌚

p l a y – Knight of Wands

All the geniuses in the world take pleasure in self-experimentation. When it comes to experiments, my gosh, errors mistakes and failures are bound to happen. It’s normal for you but not for stupid, unimaginative, unoriginal, non-innovative bitches. So you don’t have to listen to their dismissal. Keep being you and keep shining your Light—more like, keep warming the world with the Fire in your Heart. We all know the world right now could do with more of that❤️‍🔥

I dunno why your aenergy keeps making me think of Jennie Kim hahah But anyway, this FM in Leo wants to remind you that a person such as yourself, simply with the amount of passion that you possess, can be a significant healing presence in the lives of others. If you just focus on this aspect of yourself, you’ll soar higher faster because you’re making that conscious choice of thinking very highly of yourself🎀

It’s surely not narcissism; it’s self-love, self-respect, coz you’re obviously not stupid enough to not be able to see your effects on people🪬This year, embrace this of yourself more and more and before long… wow, I don’t even know what’s in store for you this year, but something BIG is literally just around the corner and you're attracting it fast by your positive outlook!⏳

i n n o c e n c e – 9 of Wands Rx

No more being hard on yourself just for people-pleasing this year! ‘I ain’t making myself smaller so it’s easy for you to digest me anymore. Y’all can choke,’ is your MANTRA this year—more than any other years you’ve lived thus far lmao The essence of your innocence this year is that you’re carrying yourself back to calm waters. No more wars—not the ones INSIDE of your head. You got that?🌊

If you’re gonna go to war this time around, it’s a war with the sick world where you’re EJECTING yourself from either the rat race or the brainwash of smallness. You were born big, meant to be big, and even bigger still you’re gonna prove yourself to be. You have all the power in you to inspire the world around you. But first, reconnect with the joy of being alive💐

I think it’s joie de vivre in French? ‘Exuberant enjoyment of Life’. That sounds like something you’d find in any Ghibli movie hahah Enjoy something creative. Eat what you want when you want and sleep as much or as little as it is sensible to you. You’re learning to live again, but more importantly, you’re learning to really show up AS YOURSELF, unapologetically🍍

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Green Historian (Herodotus) & Priestess of Inspiration

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Lighten Up, You’re Only One You

c h i l d – King of Swords Rx

Do you often feel like you’re responsible for other people’s wellbeing? You could’ve felt this way since you were a kid, yeah? For some, it could’ve been that you grew up in a toxic environment where you were constantly put on the spotlight or you were made to feel like you were always the one with everything to prove. Either way, this caused you to develop a rather frantic way of dealing with duties and a sense of responsibility🤨

It could’ve felt like the burden of the whole world was on your shoulders. If you don’t take charge of a situation well enough, you fear that someone’s responses or reactions could be calamitous. In a sense, you couldn’t help but develop a ‘hero complex’ or ‘saviour complex’ in which most of the time you were just trying to save yourself from other people’s wrath😖

Babe, I’m just saying, this ain’t healthy. But of course you know that. And if you’re reading this and this is your main pile, I’d like to validate your experiences and confirm to you that you’re well on your way out of this sad programming. Baby, baby, the world is healing and so are you~💋🧠⛑

p l a y – 3 of Pentacles Rx

We’ve entered a new paradigm, right? In this new wave of consciousness, we’re no longer tolerating situations and environments where we are made to feel inadequate or hard to love. I see that you’re further separating yourself from that old wave of consciousness. If you’ve actually made the decision to ‘leave that old world’ a long time ago, I see that recently you could’ve just been dealing with some remnants of a heartbreak🪡

All things considered, your Spirit Guides are convincing you that you’re already in safe waters. But more importantly than that, the ‘waters’ in your brains—the chemicals—are returning to balance! Are you feeling this or not, babe?🤩

In a strange way of saying it, I see that you’re gradually taking back your sanity. There’s this feeling like, ‘Where have I been the last xx months/years?’ Or you could simply feel like the peace and calm and the certainty that you’re feeling now is exactly the natural state of being you 'should’ve been able' to access from a long time ago. It’s that kind of a feeling~😑

i n n o c e n c e – 4 of Wands Rx

But of course, it isn’t to say that your hardships up until now didn’t serve a purpose, right? I know all of us are sick of being told this kind of thing lmao But it’s so true for reasons that may be too convoluted. But since the Priestess of Protection is accompanying you here, I’d like to say that your hardships were not at all ‘part of your karma’ in the sense of you having done something bad in a different lifetime😷

If this has been your main message, I hope you know that without a doubt you are a Lightworker of sort. You have this ‘supernatural ability’ to transmute some negative karma in this world. I think that’s exactly why you chose to be born in tough situations and upbringing, all so that you could exercise your Lightwork on those types of situations. The ripple effect will be felt by all inhabiting Planet Earth, you know😊

That said, this FM in Leo would love to just say that the hard part of your Lightworker training is over. All that needed doing and seeing is seen and done. You’re no longer responsible for other people’s lack of common sense nor are you to blame when somebody else is lacking empathy when viewing a situation🧳All of the understanding and compassion you’ve ever poured into the 'wrong people'… all of that you give to yourself now. Be happy, child. You were only a child~😜

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Magus (Edward Kelly) & Priestess of Protection

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

[stargazerbibi]

🪩🔮👾NEW SEMESTER, NEW PRODUCTIVITY CHALLENGE! 👾🔮🪩

hello again!! the fourth and last year of my bachelor's is starting! it's going to be a tough one, but i really want it to go well so here i am, making this, hoping it will guide and help me finish this degree once and for all!

this semester, i'll be taking:

Differential and Integral Calculus I

Differential and Integral Calculus III

Physics II ☑️

Analysis and Synthesis of Algorithms ☑️

Linear Algebra ☑️

152 DAYS (max.)

for the record, aside from algebra, i don't particularly enjoy any of these subjects, but i'm trying to face them with an open mind. my situation is not ideal, but i'll try to make the most of it. manifesting good things for this year <33

🌪️⛲☄️ GOALS ☄️⛲🌪️

-> pass all my classes: 3/5

-> complete my goodreads challenge: 23/25 ✖️

-> keep my Duolingo streak alive ☑️

🩷🌸🦑 FUN PLANS 🦑🌸🩷

-> re-read jjk: 12/21

-> go to the cinema ☑️

🌆🪸🪼 NOT FUN PLANS 🪼🪸🌆

-> organize my email ☑️

-> organize photos (computer, camera, phone)

-> organize my room after moving ☑️

🌌🎆🗻 COUNTERS 🗻🎆🌌

-> properly study Danish: 0 hours

-> movies watched: 13/10 ☑️ (last watched: The Two Popes, 2019, dir. Fernando Meirelles)

-> series watched: 11/10 ☑️ (last watched: Romantic Killer)

-> books read: 10/10 ☑️ (last read: I'm Glad My Mom Died, by Jennette McCurdy)

[klimkovsky]

Open star cluster Messier 6

Open star cluster Messier 6, is drawn by the Grok AI

Messier 6, also known as the Butterfly Cluster, is an open star cluster located in the constellation Scorpius. Here's what astronomers know about it:

Basic Information:

Catalog Designations: M6, NGC 6405

Location: Constellation Scorpius, near the stinger of the scorpion

Coordinates: Right Ascension 17h 40m 20s, Declination -32° 15' 00"

Distance: Approximately 1,500 to 2,000 light-years from Earth

Physical Characteristics:

Age: Estimated to be around 100 million years old, making it relatively young for an open cluster.

Number of Stars: Contains about 80 to 100 stars, with some sources suggesting up to 300 when including fainter members.

Brightest Stars: The brightest star is a class B8 giant, which gives the cluster its distinctive V-shape, reminiscent of butterfly wings.

Apparent Magnitude: The integrated visual magnitude of the cluster is about 4.2, making it visible to the naked eye under good conditions.

Morphology and Structure:

Shape: Its distinctive butterfly shape is what most observers note, especially through binoculars or a small telescope.

Size: The cluster spans about 25 arcminutes across the sky, but its actual physical size corresponds to roughly 12 to 15 light-years in diameter.

Scientific Interest:

Star Formation Studies: Open clusters like M6 are crucial for understanding star formation processes since all stars in the cluster are roughly the same age and distance from us, providing a snapshot of how stars evolve over time.

Chemical Composition: Observations of the stars in M6 help in understanding the chemical composition and evolution of stars within open clusters, particularly how metallicity varies.

Distance Calibration: It serves as a benchmark for calibrating distances in the Milky Way due to its well-studied parameters.

Observation:

Visibility: Best observed from the Southern Hemisphere due to its declination, but it's visible from the Northern Hemisphere in summer months when Scorpius is high in the sky.

Equipment Needed: Visible to the naked eye in dark skies, but binoculars or a small telescope will reveal its butterfly shape more distinctly.

Cultural Significance:

While not as culturally famous as some other clusters, M6 is part of the lore of sky watching, especially among amateur astronomers for its distinctive appearance.

Messier 6 was cataloged by Charles Messier in 1764, who included it in his list to help comet hunters distinguish between deep-sky objects and comets. This cluster, along with its neighbor Messier 7, offers a beautiful sight for anyone exploring the night sky in the direction of Scorpius.

Source: Grok AI

First, let's correct a few inaccuracies

Modern (and already quite accurate) estimates of the distance to the Messier 6 cluster are inclined to the value of 1600 light years (or a little less). Accordingly, the linear dimensions are limited to 12 light years.

The brightest star of the cluster BM Scorpii is a red-orange giant of the spectral class K3. Before the time when stellar parallaxes began to be measured directly from spacecraft outside the atmosphere, these measurements were made with a high error. Therefore, it was believed that this star did not belong to the cluster and was located twice as close to us - in the middle between the cluster and the Solar System. You can understand why everyone liked this idea: Most of the stars in the cluster are blue and hot, and this one is red and cold — as if from another stellar family.

But now everything has become clear

BM Scorpii is indeed a very massive star, exceeding the Sun in mass by about 17-20 times. And in the 120 million years that the cluster has existed, it has lived almost its entire stellar life. Now it has already entered the final stage of its evolutionary path, and in some future (in a few million years) it will flare up as a supernova, scattering the matter of its outer layers around itself, and will give the cluster a nebula of an unpredictable shape. And in place of the core of this star, most likely, only a neutron star, or even a black hole, will remain.

The open cluster Messier 6 can be visible to the naked eye. It is better to observe it in the southern hemisphere, since its declination is below -30 degrees — in the middle northern latitudes it either does not rise, or even during the upper culmination literally lies on the horizon. And to see it without optics, it needs to rise high in the sky (and, of course, the observer needs to be further away from city lights).

It is interesting to compare this cluster with the Pleiades — the brightest and most beautiful open cluster in the northern sky. The M6 "Butterfly Cluster" is four times further than the Pleiades. But if it were in their place, it could look no less impressive. In any case, its brightest stars would be 16 times brighter - this is approximately 3 stellar magnitudes brighter than the magnitude they have now, and this would be quite comparable to the brightness of the Pleiades stars.

It is quite possible that this cluster was seen in ancient times by Ptolemy — in the second century AD (although this is only an assumption). And the first documented observation of the Messier 6 cluster dates back to 1654 and belongs to Giovanni Battista Hodierna.

Open star cluster Messier 6 by Giuseppe Donatiello from Oria (Brindisi), Italy

[imaginedreamwrite]

you know that Billie Eilish song Birds of a feather? That but with Gaz, as in you’re pen pals from different countries and you meet up and just click

or you met up a few times before and suddenly he invites you on base because you’re the girlfriend he keeps talking about but no one’s met you

I definitely listened to this song on repeat to try and get the mood right

Your friendship started as a pen-pal project in middle school, students would be matched to each other in similar classrooms in the UK and in the US. You were assigned a boy named Kyle Garrick who was just months older than you, and through writing letters introducing yourself you learned the basics.

He was in his second year of secondary school and had just turned 12. He had three older sisters and lived just outside London in a townhome with his parents. Kyle told you that he wanted to move to London when he was done secondary school.

The writing project itself was only supposed to last a year and was meant to be integrated into your social studies and language arts class. But there was something about your long distance friendship with Kyle that kept the letter writing going.

Eventually communication moved away from the letters, pen and paper being traded off for online messages and long distance texts—that your parents made you pay for. That friendship grew, it blossomed into something that felt deeper though neither of you would try and label it.

You told Kyle about your first heartbreak, the first and real ache that burrowed deep in your heart. And he told you that he could kick the guy’s ass if you wanted, even though you both knew he was only saying it. The sentiment was appreciated, nonetheless and soon enough simple texts became an exchange of pictures and videos of your lives.

You sent Christmas gifts to each other, snacks from each other’s countries when you had the money. You encouraged each other like you were always best friend’s despite not meeting in real life.

When Kyle told you about him joining the army you shared your concerns for your friend, your wish that he’d return home to his older sisters who liked to tease him and his parents that constantly worried. Kyle, likewise, told you to stay away from boys who would break your heart because you were too damn good for them—as if he was the only one who could treat you right.

You first met when you were both 23 when Kyle had the chance to go to New York with his sister’s for a pre-wedding trip. You had planned a few days to meet, and Kyle made sure to tell you that his sister’s wouldn’t stop teasing him about his "girlfriend".

The first time you met in person, something clicked between you and Kyle. Your connection was as instant as the first time you wrote to one another, the chemistry and the draw between you was irrevocable.

It felt like twin flames meeting after being kept apart for lifetimes, endlessly searching for the other only to finally be brought back to one another.

That first meeting stretched into a viable and long distance relationship, it was a struggle of course but you made it work. That connection you shared wouldn’t be easily broken by distance, you had done everything you could to keep yourselves in contact as much as possible.

When the company you worked for decided they needed a permanent office in the UK, you were the first to try and get a position. You applied for a work VISA through your company, you got a cheap enough flat and picked up your life. You landed in the UK, you settled and started building a life there.

And the distance between you and Kyle was less stressful on the relationship. The two of you had seriously began dating, finding yourselves revelling in the close proximity of each other. The relationship had developed from pen-pal friends, to online friends, to an actual relationship that Kyle defined first.

You told each other everything, he told you how he had been accepted as part of an SAS task force, that he would be gone for days, weeks or months at a time, but that he was happy. That he loved his job and he loved being a soldier.

And you confessed your secret, one you’d been harbouring for far too long: you loved Kyle Garrick.

[judgemark45]

An F/A-18E Super Hornet, attached to the “Tomcatters” of Strike Fighter Squadron 31, lands on the first-in-class aircraft carrier USS Gerald R. Ford (CVN 78) as Sailors onboard Dutch frigate HNLMS De Zeven Provincien (F 802) observe Ford’s flight operations, Nov. 12, 2022. Exercise Silent Wolverine is a U.S.-led, combined training exercise that tests Ford-class aircraft carrier capabilities through integrated high-end naval warfare scenarios alongside participating allies in the Eastern Atlantic Ocean. The Gerald R. Ford Carrier Strike Group is deployed in the Atlantic Ocean, conducting training and operations alongside NATO Allies and partners to enhance integration for future operations and demonstrate the U.S. Navy’s commitment to a peaceful, stable and conflict-free Atlantic region. (U.S. Navy photo by Chief Mass Communication Specialist Julie R. Matyascik)

[lilly-onthevalley]

I'm so grateful for the woman that tumblr has shaped me to be. You'll never find another social site full of women who are writing for women and their betterment. I like to say I come from a legacy, my sister introduced me to tumblr when the OG girls were sharing their beauty tips to the King Kylie aesthetic and sharing pop culture news.

I come from a house that wasn't necessarily the most condusive to beauty and strategy. I unfortunately had to build myself up since 12 after having my BIG awakening to how life and the world works for women. I'm an intellectual by nature, I have never and will never have issues relating to topics, trivia, and the such. I just didn't know how to apply it.

I'm odd and I'll never disagree with that, I play DnD, I garden, I have my fixations and struggle with OCD and anxiety. Back in highschool I went to a religious school, they believed in women's subjugation and the like and as such I was never really integrated and left after 4 years while the autism allegations were at their peak cause God forbid that a woman is able to dominate in ¾ of all classes. It was toxic, I was miserable, and I worked my ass off to be valedictorian and get accepted to the most prestigious highschool in my country.

I was blogging elsewhere and had a large following that made me realise my voice mattered and it layed the perfect foundation for me to realise I deserved better and was sitting on some potential. This blog came later but it was the same scene.

The old tumblr girls were too hot on their topics and articulation. They were meticulous about the ins and outs of flirting, beauty, perfume and most importantly getting what you want out of a world that's fashioned in a manner that's not too advantageous to a woman without her wits directed to her own well being.

Forever grateful

🪽

[wooahoe]

isn’t it lonely? i’d do anything to make you want me — xu minghao x reader

number one girl; aka high school is a fucking bitch and i went from an academic weapon to an academic victim mlist

cw: hao is probably ooc, lack of y/n, language, konglish + chinglish (?), author cannot speak mandarin just fyi, they know each others slang in other languages bc they gang like that, use of couple nicknames between friends (or are they? up to you!), angst(?), mentions of school 🤢, lowkey toxic fic, author grew up with the asian grading scale so if you think that a c is not a failing grade you are lucky asf, asian american stereotypes, 12 am thoughts, short asf fic (about 1.5k words)

a/n: FUCK ap testing FUCK college applications FUCK bitchass teachers FUCK gifted kid burnout FUCK being asian FUCK depression FUCK school !! is academic validation even worth it anymore.

extremely self indulgent fic, i’ve been listening to orbit and 54321 lift off and number one girl to cope so have a minghao !! non-aerieverse

this can be read either as platonic or romantic

— ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

tell me that i'm going real big places, down to earth, so friendly, and even through all the phases, tell me you accept me

your grades can’t be that bad.

try me. i fucking dare you.

“nti. nti. nti, 2/15, 5/10, another zero, overall grade is sixty-two percent. so far we’re six for six on failing grades.”

you turn and face him, arms crossed and a slightly crazed grin on your face. he moved from sitting on the edge of your bed to leaning over your chair to look at your laptop screen. minghao’s expression had been neutral this entire time, but the knitting of his eyebrows told you everything you needed to know.

how the hell did someone like you crash and burn this badly?

well, that’s all i'm dying to hear, yeah, i’m dying to hear you tell me that you need me, tell me that i'm loved

fifteen minutes earlier

minghao looked at you from his seat across the table, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

“what do you mean you’re failing all your classes? you had all As last semester.”

you huffed in frustration, and pursed your lips together, choosing to look down at your setup instead of meeting his eyes.

notes covered in minghao’s pretty but messy scrawl and your lazy cursive. integral equations and war dates and biology concepts strewn across the floor. at least three different textbooks stacked on top of each other, a fourth open at the top. two bags of latiao and tteokbokki flavored almonds left untouched at the edge of the mini folding table. one takeout cup of coffee (the amount of shots you’d asked for had stunned the barista) and one thermos of tea (most likely from the set you’d gifted him due to his most recent obsession) sitting side by side in front of the two of you.

it looked like your weekly study date.

but this particular study session was straying further and further away from any actual studying, and you hated that this was the topic the two of you had landed on.

“yeah. i did. key word is ‘had’, hao, i’m literally failing calculus right now. and not asian failing, F failing.”

he sucked in a breath between his teeth, looking at you sympathetically but unbelievingly.

“tiánxīn, your grades can’t be that bad.”

you raised an eyebrow.

“try me, jagi. i fucking dare you.”

at this, he frowned.

tell me that i’m worth it, and that i’m enough. i need it and i don't know why, this late at night; isn't it lonely? i’d do anything to make you want me

“seventy-five, sixty-four, seventy-seven, seventy-eight, sixty-two.”

you rattled off the percentages like they were lottery numbers.

“and now everyone’s favorite, calc bc! let’s see here…nti. nti. nti, 2/15, 5/10, another zero, overall grade is sixty-two percent. and we are six for six on failing grades.”

you turned from your place in front of the computer and faced him, arms crossed and a slightly crazed grin on your face.

you chuckled, and if it had been anyone but minghao sitting in front of you, they’d think you were amused by this.

but he knew better. he knew you were just hiding behind a smile.

“damn. i’m never getting into college at this point.”

minghao tsked scoldingly.

“don’t say that.”

he let out a sigh and moved from sitting on the edge of your bed to leaning over your chair to look at your laptop screen. his eyebrows knit together, and he looked over at your cheshire cat grin.

“tiánxīn…what happened?”

“i really couldn’t tell you, minghao.”

“tiánxīn.”

your demeanor cracked, just for a split second, before the smirk reappeared on your face.

except that this time, it was accompanied by a lump in your throat and tears behind your eyes.

“i can’t fucking focus, hao.”

his questioning gaze was enough to break through the walls you had worked so hard to build.

“it’s so frustrating. it’s like no matter how much information enters my brain, i can’t get a good enough grasp on it to be able to hang on to it. like everything i’m being taught makes its way from one ear and out the other, so it’s not really there but it left a trail that’s just enough for me to pass the quiz. and it’s not enough to get an A on the final, and it’s barely enough to pass the class.”

you stood up from your desk chair and started to pace in front of the man in front of you.

“but apparently, i’m supposed to compete with everyone else for the best score. i’m supposed to understand it on the first try. i’m supposed to be good at english, and geography, and math and science and a language i’ve been surrounded by all my life but i’ve never actually been taught. and, y’know, apparently i should be able to deal with failure. but this shouldn’t even be happening! i shouldn’t be failing.

“but i am failing.”

minghao wordlessly leads you towards the bed, pulling you in to sit down at his side and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“why can’t i understand anything anymore? why can’t i focus? why can’t i pay attention? why can’t i just be nicer? why can’t i stand up for myself? why can’t i stay awake? why can’t i fall asleep? why can’t i just do it? god, it feels like i don’t know anything anymore.”

you turn to look at him with teary eyes.

“why isn’t that a good enough answer? because i don’t know why i can’t understand anything anymore. i don’t know why i can’t focus. i don’t know why i can’t pay attention. i didn’t do my homework because i don’t understand it. i failed my quiz because i didn’t understand the material.

“i failed my test because i’m not as smart as you think i am.

“i can’t just do the bare minimum. i don’t know how. i can’t stay awake because i spend all of my nights and weekends and every waking hour doing homework that never gets done. i can’t fall asleep because i’m too busy crying. and i mean, it’s not like anybody taught me how to ask for help. nobody told me it was okay to fail, because everyone expected the best. so i always gave that. my best. and when my best isn’t enough?

“i guess i’ll be the best at failing, too.”

i'd give it all up if you told me that i'd be the number one girl in your eyes. your one and only, so what's it gon' take for you to want me?

the next few minutes are spent in silence, with your head coming to rest on his shoulder. one of his hands is playing with your hair, the other’s fingers are laced with your own. it’s comforting, and you let out a shaky breath, grounding yourself.

when you finally do look at him, he’s smiling sadly, gazing at your study setup in contemplation.

“tiánxīn…why didn’t you say something?”

you mirrored his smile, and squeezed his hand.

“i thought i could deal with it on my own.”

“you babo.”

you huff out a laugh.

“hey. listen to me. you’re not failing.”

you laugh again, and he flicks your forehead in retaliation.

“i’m serious. these numbers don’t measure your value or status in life. this shouldn’t weigh on you as heavy as it does.”

you look at him, and frown.

“we don’t get to make that decision, haobei.”

“why not?”

“xu minghao.”

“i’m being serious. you’re still going to get into college, even if these end up being your final grades, because you’ve already written an essay that everyone is jealous of, and you’re smart, love.”

“am i really, though?”

minghao rolls his eyes and says your full government name, causing you to kick his ankle lightly in mock hurt.

“but seriously. you know why these stupid grades mean so much to me.”

“i know. that doesn’t make it right, though.”

“i know.”

“do you?”

you sigh, and flop down on your back to look at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling.

“i hope so.”

i'd give it all up if you told me that i'd be the number one girl in your eyes

minghao laid down and looked over at you, smiling sadly, before looking back at the ceiling and wishing on the biggest star.

you’re already perfect in my eyes, tiánxīn, and i wish you could see it, too.

— ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

a/n; for everyone who’s reading this or is going through school-induced hell rn… fighting !! we’ll get through this !!

[tpquill]

America, what have you done!

I am tonight sitting here (Australia) speechless from what has transpired these last 12 hours or so, what the hell happened?

Why on earth did he get voted back in?

What in the world went wrong?

8 years ago he was elected whether you choose to believe it or not, through nefarious means (Russia influence) at the time people fell for his charisma & charm, but soon realised just like women realise when they fall for the charm and the boyish behaviour, there’s a darker side they don’t reveal until it’s too late. Congratulations America, he revealed it pretty early on once he got his claws into the Resolution Table in the Oval Office.

We (the world) watched in horror as he separated families and deported illegals. He overspent on his billionaire friends and made middle and working class suffer. Had no health care plan, no infrastructure or employment plan. No commerce or education - nothing, zilch. He employed sycophants who bowed and grovelled to do his biding (half of them his own family - nepotism much?) he ran America like one of his bankrupt businesses and almost brought America to the ground. He was responsible for not taking responsibility when a pandemic hit the world and over 1 million died under his watch.

America impeached him twice, investigated him multiple times. Decided then they’d had enough and voted him out. You had four years of peace, of prosperity, of employment health care, higher wages and lowering costs. Your country opened up again and healthcare was restored, you started bouncing back, you’re coming has never been better. Meanwhile he ranted and raged the election was stolen, even though every court hearing and document was thrown out. America had turned a page in history for four years.

What the hell happened?

Joe Biden stood for another term but that wasn’t good enough, the America media had an axe to grind and so did it seemed those who were influential in the media circus and he stood aside for a women he picked as his vice. A woman with an incredible record in prosecution and protection of law. A woman who had fought against cartels and won. A woman of scruples and integrity. Who was willing to stand up to him and hold him accountable. A man who has current,y 34 felony convictions including falsifying business records and inflating assets to hide tax fraud. A man with 6 bankruptcies and multiple accusations of predator and rapist behaviour AND YOU HAVE VOTED HIM BACK IN?

Why?

Was it because you like someone with a need for vengeance? Someone who had made it very clear he intends to run America like Russia? A man who stole your nations top secrets and in some cases sold them off? A man for whatever bizzare reason is allowed to do whatever the hell he likes with no repercussions, because he’s Donald Trump?

This is not the America I remember as a child. This is not the president I saw growing up, who took care of his people, who cared for his country, supported their military and stood up to foreign enemies.

I sit here tonight devastated for all the brave and wonderful women and men, who voted to protect theirs and their daughters basic human, reproductive and civil rights. To the persons of all colours and religions, to the victims of domestic and sexual violence. To the wonderful trans community, to the gay marriages built on love. To all those who have fought both home and abroad in service. To the dreamers who see America as a shiny beacon of light & hope. To those who have crossed many roads in search of protection, in a country who had always welcomed you. I feel all of your sadness and anger at what has transpired.

None of this makes sense, none of this adds up.

Kamala Harris was a future light of hope and peace, of working with both sides for democracy to move America forward - now it seems she will be pulled back into the darkest part of her history. Back to when women had no right to vote, no opinion that was listened to, no voice protecting her own body.

She will be silenced once again.

Immigrants will no longer be welcome.

The church will control what happens in marriages and government decisions.

You will no longer be accepted as a trans or LGBTQ+

If you suffer a medical emergency during pregnancy, you will be forced to endure the consequences of either the child dying inside you, or be forced to give birth at “God’s will” Rape is just a word - a pregnancy from it will be unfortunate but a necessary as your right to choose will not matter anymore.

None of this adds up.

I will not accept that a man who got almost the exact same amount of votes as he did in 2020 can be declared the winner and Kamala only got 60 million, where did the other 20 million go? The votes came in too quickly the declaration called too soon. I’m by no means a conspiracy theorist but the math doesn’t add up?

Bomb threats - is America the Middle East? Interference through social media via Elon Musk and China. Giving away money to people who would vote for Trump. It stinks like rotten fish on a warm summers day here in Oz.

My final take.

If I devoted my entire like in government, in prosecution, in upholding the constitution - I would have questions, I would want answers as to how this happened with no increase in Trumps collective votes from 2020, he didn’t increase, he stayed the same.

President Joe Biden in his last few months of power, should launch an investigation because it’s not a case of well America decided to perform a lobotomy on itself and completely wiped the years between 2016-2020 from her memory and only remember the last 102 days, or something or someone played a hand in some very nefarious and illegal vote tampering.

Madam Vice President - do not concede.