happiestloneryouwillcomeacross
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Kang Yohan apologist | Amateur poet
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i'm going to listen to the album of the artist you like even though he's not really my vibe. i'm going to read the book you suggested even though it's not a genre i usually enjoy. i'll watch the show. i will try the recipe. i will play the video game, or at least watch a deep-dive youtube explaining the really-long lore so i have some idea of what's happening. the movie you suggested is too scary for me, but - i mean, the wikipedia page is kind of interesting - look at the length of the section Controversy.
this is not a burden. i think maybe "burden" and "love" might be oppositional, the way sometimes "love" and "hate" are not opposites. a burden is a dragging. i love you because you brought me to the water, and it is the horizon of your heart. i love you because of your nervous pacing around the edges of the rabbit hole.
often you are right. some songs on that album remind me of the spark in your eyes. the book was really thought-provoking.
more i just want to understand enough that you can talk to me. that you can explain, in depth, why it matters that wheat has shallow roots. i love you, even platonically - your love of this thing leaks into me. i watch you, cautious and dancing, the shy desire for you to smear the colors of this thing into my life, too.
they are your colors, though. of course i want them here, in the marginalia of my life. you matter to me. i want them to crowd the little moments of my day. i want your fingerprints scattered throughout the rooms of my heart.
one time i spent about six months reading and researching a particular author, just so i could talk to one of my friends about him. i never got the chance. she betrayed me, broke my trust, and sided with her abusive ex-boyfriend. standing in the sodden floodplain of what she left over, some bitter part of me asked - isn't that tragic? you have all this knowledge and nothing to do with it.
but i did have all that knowledge, though. when i reach for it, i still feel it glow.
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“No-one will love you exactly the way you want them to. You just have to let them do their best.”
— Unknown
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I really thought grief was just a constant state of catatonia but I’m entirely wrong bc you feel like you’re normal and okay for maybe most of the day but then it creeps up on you again and chokes you all out of nowhere and then you rebound and feel okay again and then there it is creeping up on you again and it literally never ends it’s like motion sickness
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"if i was orpheus i would simply not turn around" yes you would. if you were orpheus and you loved eurydice, you would. to love someone is to turn around. to love someone is to look at them. whichever version of the myth — he hears her stumble, he can't hear her at all, he thinks he's been tricked — he turns around because he loves her. that's why it's a tragedy. because he loves her enough to save her. because he loves her so much he can't save her. because he will always, always turn around. "if i was orpheus i would simply —" you wouldn't be orpheus. you wouldn't be brave enough to walk into the underworld and save the person you love. be serious
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Jihyun Yun, from Some Are Always Hungry; “Savaging”
[Text ID: “I woke up having / forgotten even your faces, / but remembered / my hunger. What if this is all / I am left with: / memories of my young body / rifling through refuse”]
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hi hello it's me bringing you all that promised ko inguk/k fic. it's explicit and wordy and full of k's feelings as always. this is technically part 3 of my ongoing k-centric series but it can mostly be read as a standalone.
read it here on ao3: possessed and possessor are one and the same
K wakes up to streams of sunlight hitting his face through the slates of the wooden blinds covering the windows. He squints against the brightness, running a hand across his face. His mouth is dry, and he notes how uncomfortably warm he is. The culprit of this aforementioned heat is out cold next to him, arm thrown across K's stomach, head shoved into a pillow with his mouth slightly parted and hair askew. Ko Inguk makes a slightly disgruntled noise in his sleep as K watches him from his place by his side in Inguk's bed. Inguk's arm around K's waist anchors itself a little tighter, fingers curling around K's side, tickling him.
K huffs out a breath in amusement, “Stop pretending to sleep. I know you're awake.”
Inguk cracks an eye open at him from where his face is pressed into the pillow, accusatory and mirthful all at once, “K let me sleep a little longer. Don't spoil the mood.” He chides playfully, a whine to his voice that K is loath to admit he finds endearing.
K rolls his eyes, swatting at the arm across his stomach, “We both have work to do today. Let me go.”
Inguk pouts at him even as he pulls his arm away, resting his head in his hand and propping himself up with his elbow on the pillow. K has pulled himself up to rest his back against the headboard, so Inguk has to look up at him from his vantage point. He keeps staring at K as he often likes to do, eyes traveling across first his face, down his neck to his bare torso, then back up again to meet his eyes.
K meets Inguk’s gaze like it's a challenge, arching his eyebrows at the man. K can't help the way he breaks eye contact though, eyes flitting down to glance at the marks decorating Inguk's neck, the dark patterns blanketing his chest. K thinks about the way he followed those familiar pathways with his lips last night. The memory of Inguk underneath him is vivid, and the thought of the outline of Inguk’s pretty cock against his stomach stirs embers in K’s gut, sending heat to his own cock before he can nip the feelings in the bud.
K groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He doesn't have time for this. The mission is tantamount, and his day is filled with at least one covert rendezvous and some vital information gathering that he's already put off for longer than he'd like. He can't help it that Ko Inguk is so frustratingly distracting.
Inguk chuckles before pulling himself away and leaving the bed, the reassuring weight of him on the other side now distinctly lacking. K misses the other man's warmth already. He covers his eyes with his palms and presses in hard, trying to dislodge his traitorous thoughts with sheer willpower. K can hear the rustling of Inguk going through his closet, most likely grabbing a towel in preparation for a shower.
K opens his eyes, blinking against the spots in his vision, looking in Inguk's direction. He takes in the full view of Inguk from behind, entirely naked, rifling through the closet carelessly like he doesn't know the effect his ass on full display like that has on K.
Inguk takes a glance back at K watching him and shakes his head, “Now who's the one not getting out of bed.”
K sends a glare his way, annoyed at being called out and caught in his act of shameless voyeurism all at the same time. Inguk shrugs innocently, turning around with two towels swung over one forearm.
“Join me?”
K feels a lump catch in his throat, and he's hot all over again, breathless and caught off guard. He shouldn't. He should head back to his own apartment, shower there, reorganize his thoughts, reassess his situation, prioritize- But K is sick of doing as he should do. Right now he wants to give in to the insatiable hungering monster newly awakened inside him. It's begging to be fed, and after all, who is he to disappoint it?
K gets out of bed far quicker than he would like to admit, tripping over the sheets in his haste as he follows after the trail of Inguk’s amused laughter. K would find it in himself to be offended if he didn't know exactly where he was going to be putting that same mouth shortly.
It isn't long before the two of them are pressed up against each other in the shower, the hot spray hitting K’s back as he pulls Inguk closer. He bites playfully at Inguk’s lips and Inguk lets him. Smiling against K’s mouth, Inguk wraps a hand around the back of K’s head, fingers tangling in the wet strands of his hair. K thinks about how not that long ago he would have shied away from this kind of intimacy, how much the direct contact terrified him, made him feel raw, open, exposed. It still does, to an extent. K still has to calm the stuttering of his heart, soothe his mind's initial trepidations about allowing Inguk so close into his personal space. For the most part, at this point, K can calm his nerves fairly quickly, because the overwhelming fires of lust so easily take their place.
K is so possessive over Inguk, when they're intimate like this. He can't help the way he manhandles him, grips his thighs, his waist, his throat with desperate fingers. Tugs on his hair harshly, bites his neck until Inguk whines. K’s hands are always trying to claim Inguk, to tie him down to K and make him stay in his orbit. He feels guilty about it, sometimes. Because he doesn't really understand it himself. And Inguk looks at him with eyes betraying such devotion at times that it makes K slightly sick. He doesn't know if he deserves that level of devotion. It's not right to own a person. But K often has these odd thoughts, that he wants to own Inguk. They're selfish thoughts, because Inguk can't own K like that, not entirely. Not when K’s heart still betrays him for another man, a man that K can never stop loving, a man that K lays eyes of devotion on when the other isn't looking, and probably even when he is.
Kang Yohan.
The fact K is letting his thoughts wander to the man even at a time like this, when he’s pushing Inguk to his knees on the hard tile, and Inguk is wrapping his lips around the head of K’s leaking cock- K keeps his hand on the top of Inguk’s head, guiding him none too gently, gripping into Inguk’s hair probably to the point of painful. He kind of hates himself right now. It's ridiculous how quickly K can let his thoughts spin out of control like this.
Inguk is looking at him as he’s sucking him off, and K wonders if yet again his own eyes have betrayed his thoughts. I want to own you. I want to possess you. Think of me and only me. K has a sudden recollection of that night when Inguk helped K in his drunken state into his own apartment, of the whispered admission into K’s ear, and he is overcome with jealousy roiling deep in his stomach. And isn't that entirely unfair? Since when was K such an ugly and selfish person? But he's feeling petulant, wondering why he isn't allowed to have something too. Just this one thing.
Inguk pulls off from K’s cock, hand reaching for K’s own that's gripped into Inguk’s hair. He wraps his hand around K’s almost reassuringly, gently tugging until K loosens his grip, letting Inguk lace their fingers together.
“K. Stop thinking so much.” Inguk murmurs, standing and crowding K against the wall behind him. The stream of water is hitting the both of them now, falling into K’s eyes and blurring his vision.
K sputters against the stream, tilting his head back a bit to get it out of the way of the oncoming water. Inguk leans in even closer, to the point that they're chest to chest, no space between either of their bodies. K’s cock is stuck against both his stomach and Inguk’s, and he can feel Inguk’s cock pressed close and snug right alongside his own. Inguk reaches up and pushes the shower head to redirect it somewhere behind them, then catches K’s mouth in a suffocating kiss. K finds himself opening willingly to Inguk's tongue pressing against his lips, allowing the kiss to deepen, less a battle and more of a mutual dance. He whimpers, a shameful thing, in the back of his throat, wrapping his arms around Inguk, his hands bruising against the small of the other man's back.
Inguk pulls his mouth away even as K chases after him, but Inguk stops him with a finger to K’s red and swollen lips. K breathes heavily, not breaking eye contact with Inguk.
Inguk leans in again, lips ghosting against K’s ear, breathless as he whispers, “Let me fuck you, K.”
Only Inguk could make such a vulgar request sound like an eloquent proposal. K feels like his stomach drops through the floor and he is all too quickly light headed and weak in the knees. Inguk takes his weight, holding him up and supporting him.
K has been inside Inguk several times now. Each time is wonderful, explosive, and incredibly satisfying. But he hasn't had Inguk inside him. K didn't think he wanted that. The monster in him only wants to possess and own, it doesn't want to be- that doesn't- he doesn't-
But K swallows in awe around the shocking realization that he does want that. Badly. Terribly. Actually, he's desperate for it. If Inguk isn't inside him in short order K is actually worried he may quite literally combust. Which doesn't make any sense because this puts all of K’s spiraling thoughts earlier to shame. With one seemingly simple request Inguk upturned K’s whole entire world. He keeps doing that, honestly, and K would be more worried about it if he wasn't too busy nodding aggressively in response and then suddenly finding himself being pulled hurriedly out of the now switched off shower. Inguk leads K urgently back into his bedroom, then practically flings K's tall and lanky frame, still soaking wet, onto Inguk’s unmade bed.
The bed dips as Inguk crawls on top of him and K’s heart is in his throat. Inguk hovers above him, water droplets trickling down his skin, arms tense where they're planted on either side of K’s head. Inguk leans in and they're kissing again, but the kisses this time are laced with desperation, impatient and demanding.
K jerks back, bites out an urgent “hurry up” that only makes Inguk chuckle in amusement and shake his head. He peppers K’s neck with open mouthed kisses, then snakes his way down, catches the droplets of water running between the grooves of K’s abdomen with his tongue.
K shivers slightly, parting his legs as Inguk takes his cock in his mouth again. Inguk has a good rhythm going for a while and K can feel the tendrils of his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach just as Inguk pulls off with a distinct pop. K whines a little at the loss, reaching out for Inguk as the other pulls away and searches through the nightstand drawer.
“Be patient, sweetheart.” Inguk admonishes, and K’s whole face is on fire from the endearment, his ears hot, his cock twitching.
Inguk returns with a packet of lube and a condom. K watches Inguk through half lidded eyes as he coats his fingers in lube and then Inguk's index finger is suddenly at K’s entrance, circling his rim in gentle motions, and K's breath catches, thighs tensing. Inguk tuts at him, urging him to relax and breathe even as the tip of his finger is breaching K's rim. K is so overwhelmed from just the tip of one finger that he's unsure if he can handle anymore. He wills himself to breathe through it, relaxing his tense muscles and letting Inguk push deeper inside. It feels odd, bordering on painful, but K wants Inguk's cock inside him and there's no way in hell they're stopping here.
Time seems to speed up and slow down simultaneously while Inguk works K open. K doesn't know at what point Inguk pushed three fingers inside him but it's not too uncomfortable now, and every now and then Inguk brushes against K's prostate and it feels good, really good. K has started to push back against Inguk's fingers, moving with him, and that's when Inguk pulls his fingers out, earning a whine from K as his empty hole flutters almost wantonly.
Inguk tears open the condom wrapper with his teeth and slides it on, coating his cock with lube in one slick motion. K can feel his whole body thrumming with anticipation as Inguk presses against his entrance. Then Inguk's cock is entering him and K wants to cry, because it's so much pressure and it hurts but it feels amazing and fantastic and like it's undoing him all at once and his vision is swimming like he might black out but there's electricity crackling in his veins like his whole body is a live wire.
Inguk goes slow and steady, and K breathes through it with his hands clenched into the sheets and fireworks behind his eyelids. Finally Inguk is fully seated inside him and Inguk stills, panting and leaning into K, resting their foreheads together, their breaths mingling, hot and heavy.
“You're doing so good for me, K.” Inguk's voice is rough and unsteady, like it's taking everything in his power to hold himself back, and K can't help but moan before kissing Inguk hungrily again.
“Move.” K urges against Inguk’s lips even as he's uncertain it won't undo him.
Inguk tentatively thrusts and when K takes it well he thrusts again, harder but slow and deep. K loses coherent thought, mind going static. It's incredibly intimate, the way Inguk is moving inside him, rocking into him with intent and purpose, encasing K between his arms and devouring him with his eyes.
K can hear himself moaning through the haze of his own mind. He'd be embarrassed about it, but it's so good, and so mind numbing, that he just isn't. Instead he's shameless and content, desperately turned on. He wants Inguk to know how much he's pleasing him so he lets himself be loud. At some point Inguk wraps a hand around K's cock, stroking K tight and fast, and it pushes K over the edge. His whole vision whites out as he orgasms, and he's shaking as he comes down, only half aware of the way Inguk is still moving inside him. Inguk finally slows and then stutters to a stop, pushing his face into the crook of K's neck and shoulder and biting down hard as he orgasms. K can feel the way Inguk's cock goes soft inside him. He marvels at the way he even likes that, the way he doesn't want Inguk to pull out even as the other does, leaving K disappointedly empty.
Inguk putters around for a bit, cleaning up as best he can with a wet towel before finally returning for good, wrapping himself around K like a koala. Normally K would grumble about Inguk’s penchant for post coital cuddling, but K finds he's inexplicably pleased with it right now, sliding an arm under Inguk’s head and tugging him closer.
K observes the rise and fall of Inguk's chest for a while, watches the other man's eyes flutter shut, his forehead creases soften. He's aware that it's the afternoon sun now peeking just barely through the blinds. Far too much time has slipped by. At some point K's phone on the nightstand buzzes, piercing the silence and catching his attention. K swallows thickly, carefully reaching for the phone with his arm that isn’t pinned by the weight of Inguk’s head.
Yohan is calling.
K lets his thumb hover over the green answer button. A beat of time passes. And then another. He steals a glance back at Inguk, frowns, glances back at the phone lighting up in his hand.
Then he picks up the call.
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Yohan sees Issac wasting away because he saved Issac instead of Elijah.
TW/CW: suicide attempt, manipulation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, darkkkkkk af general warning, etc.
Yohan who tries to kill himself but times it exactly when Issac comes home, kicks over the stool noisily just as he hears Issac come up the stairs and...belatedly listens to Issac rushing to his room, bursting through the door and yelling, "Yohan!"
His hands are prone at his sides and his air is running out, he's turning purple and Issac is beneath him trying to hold him up but giving up all too soon. Yohan's vision blurs and he sees an Issac shaped blob race out the door before returning and the air knocks out of his lungs as he slams onto the floor.
Issac had cut the rope.
And Issac, his older brother, is sobbing, hitting him with fists that didn't really hurt, and screaming, "Not you too! You can't go and leave me behind! You can't leave me here, alone!"
It was such a different Issac from usual, the usual Issac that Yohan had seen after the church fire.
Barely eating, crying at night and of course, ignoring him for most, if not all day.
Yohan manages a smile, wrapping his arms around his hyung and whispers in a hoarse voice, sure to bring out the compassionate side in him that didn't want to lose his only remaining direct blood relative.
"I'm sorry, hyung... I'm so sorry."
But his eyes show a different story, his hands trembling, and his mouth wears a sly grin as he whispers of assurances that he'll always stay by his beloved hyung's side.
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happy two years to knowing one of the best characters ever in television 😘
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idky but this pose is a tad bit slutty for being in an abandoned building with homeless ppl like yohan pls read the room
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nikki giovanni // warsan shire // jennifer s. cheng // mary oliver // nectar upile chisala // thoughts and prayers guante // ada limon // would it be such a crime? MH
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The Devil Judge Rewatch Ep 1
Hi, I read a post saying that there will be a re-watch starting 1st July. And I thought of adding to the fun by doing this mini-activity.
Ep 1 : A Monster Emerge During Turbulent Times.
(1) Favourite Scene?
(2) Heart-stopping Moment?
(3) Anyone you want to do something naughty or evil to?
(4) In love with the dressing?
(5) Favourite line(s) from the episode?
Just reblog this post and give your say to the questions about Ep 1. There is no need to answer all. And you can add your own questions if you wish.
Have fun!
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today reddit bumped off third party apps, Elon decided you can only read 600 twitter posts a day(!?), and YouTube is banning adblockers
tumblr, held together by hope and spit, presumed dead by many, really is one of the last decent media sites left standing
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friendly reminder for the new twitter refugees:
change your icon/pfp and put something coherent in your blog description or you're going to get blocked bcs people think you're a bot
this site is built around reblogs, so please actually reblog posts(especially art and fics!!)
you can set your likes and follows to private
checkmarks here are a meme and mean nothing
follower counts are private and we like it that way, so get used to not judging people by that metric
drama and discourse is boring, use your blacklist and block button liberally
DON'T CENSOR YOURSELF!! we can swear and say kill and make fun of corporations all we want, and if you tiktok-ify your tags people who have things blacklisted for whatever reason will still see them, and people who want to see that content won't be able to find it!! spell words out normally, you won't get in trouble!!
tumblr live is sketchy as hell and full of fake accounts, if you decide to use it anyway may god have mercy on your soul o7
be nice to the reddit refugees, they're our friends <3
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Last night I was reading TDJ fanfiction (yes I'm still in brain rot) when it suddenly hit me that in Episode 1 , Kang Yohan Sh**ting the bus was actually him doing something he couldn't do for his brother and niece: protection.
The first time around while watching I thought okay yeah this probably supposed to be a power move to stablish his "devil" character (and while I wouldn't put it past him to actually do this to sway public opinion) I think what happened is the parallel of Issac protecting Elijah with his body and Gaon protecting the little school girl with his.
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you only ever see your body in the mirror but that reflection isn't even your body
rainer maria rilke // virginia woolf // safia elhillo // rainer maria rilke // jandy nelson // ricki cummings // anna swir // sylvia plath //
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Its been a long time since i found the time to write something, and as always..wrote this with GAHAN in mind.
The characterizations are NOT accurate but i was *imagining* them so i'm gonna post it here🌚
Can't believe its been two years already and the brainrot is still so fresh. Thank you for everyone for keeping the fandom alive. I hope we continue to obsess over this masterpiece forever ❤❤❤️
Alsooo, i took the title from a quote i saw on twitter. It didnt leave my mind so i had to use it on something.
HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT 😭❤
#the devil judge#kang yo han x kim ga on#park jinyoung#lawful husbands#lawful family#tdj#adamas#kdrama#ji sung#tvn the devil judge
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