#THIS ART PIECE HAS BEEN DRIVING ME COMPLETELY INSANE.. I KEEP FINDING THINGS WRONG WITH IT AND CHANGING IT AND YET IT’S STILL NOT GOOD ENOUG

[relaxxattack]

An ALTERNATE UNIVERSE is a fictional device wherein characters are taken from their 'canon' setting and placed into a different one, such as, say... a magical university.

a sort of book cover/poster for @unda-dsk ‘s fic. this isn’t quite what i had pictured from the start, but after three days of working i think this is as good as it’s getting, so here it is!

[ladyartemesia]

Since I'm in love with your writings and your taste in reading too. I know that your favorite is Brother's best friend or Best friend's brother, I would like for you to recommend me some of them please ❤️❤️🙏

꧁Brother’s Best Friend꧂

Clandestine by @junghelioseok is fantastic. Jeon Jungkook is the best friend of the reader’s slightly younger brother. He’s sexy and charismatic and DEFINITELY knows what he wants. The growth of his (clandestine) connection with the reader is utterly delicious. This one made me laugh and swoon.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx is basically legendary in my book. The lady in this story is not only Hoseok’s best friend’s sister—she is also his BOSS’s sister and by boss I mean mafia. This is the first installment in Ana’s amazing Rap Line Mafia Universe and it delivers on every level. Hoseok is tasked with protecting the boss’s sister after she is being threatened by sinister forces unknown and sparks fly.

Plums and Melons by @winetae is THAT FIC. The fic I just daydream about sometimes. It’s a fic about two people caught hard in eachother’s gravity. It’s so sexy and cerebral and the main characters are so hot. Jimin is just a guy trying to live his life, but whatever is brewing between him and his best friend’s sister is driving him insane. He wants to be a good guy, but she just isn’t playing fair.

Are You Sure? by @cutechim is such a swoon-worthy and touching piece of wonderful. I tell you I was MOVED. This is beautiful and emotional and EXTREMELY satisfying. Taehyung’s best friend has a sister who he has always secretly adored. When she comes to him and asks for some intimate experience, he isn’t strong enough to say no—not when she’s everything he ever wanted.

Drivers License and Detour by @gyukult is sweet and tender and just a fantastic coming of age story. The reader has been in love with her brother’s best friend, Park Jimin, for almost all of her youth... but what is going on in his head?It’s a tender story that really warms the heart. AND I am happy there is more coming. I would read about these two all day. She published the second part and oh my gosh it’s so incredibly perfect I could scream. This was just such a beautiful journey every step of the way.

Milestone by @1kook is probably one of the first brother’s best friend BTS fics I read and it is amazing. I adore it so much. Because Jungkook is your brother’s best friend he is there for every milestone in your life. But you’ve both grown up now and neither of you are kids anymore. It’s hot. Like really hot. Dialogue and set up are so sharp and fast paced I really loved every second.

Young God by @njssi is scorching hot smut with complicated feelings and warm revelations. You think it’s going somewhere and then it goes somewhere else and honestly it is so awesome the whole time. Jungkook was always your brother’s sweet little friend, but he’s returned determined to show you that he is all grown up.

Tease by @caiuscassiuss floored me. I loved it so much! I spent the whole story just squealing happily about everything. This story has it all. It’s scorching hot. It’s enemies-to-lovers. It’s Taehyung. Jungkook’s sister and Kim Taehyung do not get along AT all—so she decides to bring him to his knees by making him desperate for her. It’s a wild and completely awesome ride.

Wasabi by @ironicarmy is a classic. Hobi is a bad boy that Namjoon vehemently refuses to let near his precious baby sister. But love is too strong a force and soon Hobi and the clever object of his desire decide that some things are worth fighting for. It’s a really sweet story of facing challenges and relying on the people you love. Warm and fuzzy feelings abound, but it’s also super hot.

Forbidden by @btssmutgalore is a masterwork blueprint for this trope. Hobi is a carefree player who falls brutally for Taehyung’s sister. They two of them eventually give in to a VERY steamy series of secret encounters and feelings get very involved. This is hot, suspenseful, and emotionally satisfying. Excellent characterizations as well.

Prohibido by @personasintro is an office AU with a twist. Namjoon is not only her brother’s best friend, he is also her boss and the two of them have incredible chemistry. Watching them pretend that they’re not insanely attracted to each other is so endearing and hot. Reader is convinced her feelings are one-sided. It’s lovely and fun. Definitely a slow burn, but worth it.

Strawberry Kisses by @kimnjss is a fic that I devoured in one sitting and then re-read again immediately. Jeon Jungkook is a player who matches with a girl on a dating app and has no idea she is the sister of his revered mentor and close friend, Min Yoongi. I laughed. I cried. I GASPED OUT LOUD a bunch. It was a whole thing. This is a hybrid social media/written AU and it’s pretty much perfect.

Tempestuous by @ppersonna is so special to me because it was written at the very beginning of my friendship with Lindy. She was looking for requests and I was quick to request my favorite trope. Lindy is bae now and this fic she wrote is marvelous. You are forced to spend the weekend in the same house with your sexy arch-rival Taehyung who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend. Naturally snarky hotness ensues.

Off Limits @floralseokjin is basically a famous entry when it comes to this trope. It’s a Jin fic and Miss Jordan writes EXQUISITE Jin characterizations. There is a hint of mistaken (or unknown) identity in this one which makes it even more fun. Sparks fly between you and a devilishly charming Kim Seokjin at a party. You don’t find out until later who he really is—and why he’s off limits.

And finally I’ll recommend my own Brother’s Best Friend fic All I Want for Christmas is You featuring a charming Taehyung who falls for Jimin’s sister. Jimin basically blackmails his best friend into escorting his sister to several holiday galas. Tae and Jimin’s sister have never gotten along, but they soon discover (through multiple pranks and mishaps) that love (and desire) are out of their control.

Not Your Fairytale by @yeojaa is incredibly sweet and tender. Erin really does emotion so well and her Yoongi characterization is honestly so nuanced and brilliant. This story is about a girl who had her heart broken and instead of canceling the cake tasting she scheduled with her philandering ex-fiancé, she wrangles the tsundere best friend of her brother to pretend to be him.

Brother’s Best Friend by @bts-hyperfixation is a short and sweet moment between two people who have been fighting their attraction for each other. It is so hot and delicious I tell you. You’re in trouble and the person you call is probably the person you shouldn’t—but you aren’t the only one willing to take a risk tonight.

Off Limits by @kaddiiction will break your heart and put it back together again. This one was recommended to me by a reader and I cannot thank them enough. It is fantastic. Jimin is a player but he crosses the line when he begins a liaison with his best friend’s sister. Still there is far more to this situation—and Jimin—than meets the eye.

꧁Best Friend’s Brother꧂

Orectic by @gimmesumsuga is one of my favorite fics of all time. It is a hybrid fic where the reader is a cat hybrid and Hoseok is the brother of her best friend who comes to stay with her while her bestie is away... It is so tender yet SO HOT. I’m telling you I cannot even keep count of how many times I have read it.

Theophany by @ilikemesometaetaes was a JOURNEY. It made me so emotional. Like the story centers around art a lot, but let me tell you, this fic IS art. Jimin is just the man of my whole dreams in this piece as the brother of a former best friend with an irresistible allure. It is a coming of age story with the most beautiful twist. AND THE LOVE SCENE—oh my gosh I screamed it was so good. This story is just so so good.

Run by @neonlights92 is Jungkook’s story in the mafia universe I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH. You don’t have to read the whole series to understand it (BUT YOU SHOULD). This is best friend’s brother meets arranged marriage and honestly it’s fantastic. Jungkook doesn’t do love and affection and being forced into an arranged marriage with his sister’s friend who has always had a crush on him is just a blow to his freedom... or is she? GAH! This story—like all the stories in this universe—is superb.

The Magic to Happiness by @readyplayerhobi is a best friend’s brother meets teachers AU meets Hogwarts AU. Now... all of those are top tier tropes so finding them together is like winning the lottery. Hobi was once just a skinny kid who had obvious heart eyes for you (his sister’s best friend) but now he’s tall and confident and really attractive. The magic of this story is evident in every word of the sweet relationship that blooms between these two.

Problem with You by @monvante is so sweet and kind of hilarious. I giggled so much! Jungkook is your best friend’s brother and he is kind of too perfect and too handsome and he’s always around and you hate him and he hates you... Right? When you cross paths with the infuriating Jeon Jungkook at your best friend’s wedding, you discover that you may have been wrong about a great many things.

Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine by @ktheist is so so SO fabulous. I was obsessed with this (now complete) series from the very first installment. You and Tae are besties who have know each other since you were little kids, but lately Tae’s older brother Jin has been lookin mighty fine. Just how far can you push him till he breaks. And if he breaks.... what then?

This list is BY NO MEANS exhaustive. I just used it to compile some of my FAVORITES in this particular trope.

➪ IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND FICS I SHOULD CHECK OUT PLEASE COMMENT (seriously please I love this trope so much) AND I WILL ADD THEM TO THIS LIST.

➪ Newer Additions are in PINK!

➪ Newest Additions are in BLUE

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x8 thoughts

I am so lucky that the creators of Ted Lasso decided to make this entire show specifically for me. #blessed

If last week felt like a bit of breathing room (albeit tense, poignant, character-progressing breathing room) with distinct narrative lines, this week’s episode was a chaotic yet tightly-written swirl of pain and hope and sadness! No neat subject headers for this one, y’all. Just my brain and heart in the inadequate form of a bulleted list. It is the medium available to me at this time.

I am going to remember the moment when Ted calls Sharon and tells her his father killed himself for the rest of my life.

(I could say a bunch of stuff about his face and what he says and how he tries to hide his tears from Beard right after and how insanely much I adore this character and ahhhhhhhh but I’m just going to leave that scene there in our collective memories.)

Jamie. JAMIE. Higgins has given some great advice about love on this show, but his musings about his up-and-down relationship with his own father were not helpful in the context of Jamie’s dad, who is an abusive piece of shit. I really adore that all of the main AFC Richmond staff members are realistically a bit hit-or-miss with their advice and life philosophies (some are mostly miss this season, of course).

And I am completely in awe of the moment when Jamie punches his father. The way he just stands there after Beard kicks his dad out of the locker room. The way you can hear a pin drop. And Roy—Roy who is learning in so many areas of his life about his influence on people, learning that the things he needs aren’t necessarily the same as the things other people need—is the one to cross the room and hug him. Hold him, really, with the tenderness Ted used when he hugged Rebecca outside the gala in 1x4. God.

I’ve thought a lot about how s1 was about giving people a soft place to land. There’s always an angel there when you need one. There’s always an opportunity to be kind. If you look for someone, you find them. If you look for the good in someone, you find the good. And as everyone works through their individual journeys in s2, that can’t always be the case anymore. But there are still so many moments of angels on this show, and it’s not about chance and serendipity and fate [not that it was about that in s1] but about the effort it takes to become someone who can be there for someone else. Or who can be there for yourself. I’m so proud of Jamie for physically fighting back against his father. I’m so proud of Roy for being the one who recognized what Jamie needed.

I have every feeling in the world about how Ted is almost totally frozen both times (s1 and s2) he witnesses Jamie’s father abusing him. In s1, he was still there for Jamie after, and I have every reason to believe he’ll be there for Jamie after this incident as well, but that frozen stance HURTS. He’s in so deep with his pain about his own father that it’s like he physically cannot snap out of it to act in the moment. It seems entirely outside of his control, and it breaks my heart, because Ted wants so badly to be a good father, a good coach, a good friend, a good partner, a good patient. He’s there for people in all kinds of ways, even in his current less-than-capable state. He takes care of Sharon post-concussion and even gets her a new bike! During the disastrous match at Wembley his coaching is ineffectual and everything is chaos but he’s the last one standing on the pitch! But this really awful thing keeps happening to Jamie and Ted is just…frozen in the face of it. Like one of those nightmares where you’re running in place.

The frozen-in-place nightmare also kind of applies to the way the total separation between Ted and Rebecca feels, too. I have never for a moment doubted the writers’ intentions in setting these characters up as soulmates on parallel journeys, and I’m actually really digging (on a story level) how disconnected they are right now. It is IMPRESSIVE that their absence in each other’s lives feels like such a glaring loss, one we cannot forget even as there are so many other things happening onscreen. It is 100% not just shipper goggles making me process information about Ted while thinking about Rebecca and information about Rebecca while thinking about Ted. I know there are a lot of really angry and frustrated people in the fandom right now (both T/R shippers and T/R antis and non-shipping fans who don’t get why s2 is different from s1) and while I understand being frustrated by choices characters make, and frustrated by the feelings the show makes us feel that we just want to feel more of or less of, I continue to agree with pretty much every narrative choice happening right now.

Agreeing with the narrative like this?! This is such a unique experience for me as a viewer—to feel like I’m on a ride that is at once absolutely wild and incredibly sensible and well-crafted, and to feel simultaneously completely invested and anticipatory and speculative but also totally willing to trust where it goes. I long for Ted and Beard to really talk. I long for Ted and Rebecca to stop missing each other. I long for Roy to have a serious conversation with Ted about what’s happening with him. I long for Keeley to find a vocation, something that drives her beyond her projects. I long for so many things! But I wouldn’t long for them if this show was less good. If the show was less good, I wouldn’t have a wish list a mile long because I wouldn’t be so attuned to the details and potential lurking in every scene. THIS IS SUCH A GOOD SHOW, I CANNOT HANDLE IT, I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

(To that end, a great deal of the Ted Lasso tag and so many Twitter reactions reactions to the show feel super stressful right now and I am kind of just trying not to look?! I love this fandom so much because of the amazing conversations that happen and because of brilliant fic and because there are some awesome people I never would have encountered were it not for this show. That little bubble is wonderful and I’d stay in this fandom no matter what in order to keep experiencing those things. But fans’ catastrophic reactions to every little thing that happens, every little choice a character makes that isn’t the “perfect” choice? The takeaway that the writers—on this show of all shows—wake up in the morning ready for another day of torturing shippers rather than another day of writing a beautiful story they genuinely want to write? I do not enjoy those parts at all. I would like to opt out of those parts. I’m having such a magical experience watching this show and talking about this show and listening about this show and writing about this show with a variety of people who feel all kinds of ways. I truly wish I could somehow transfer the energy of this experience onto all the people who are hating it right now. I don’t mind at all that people are having vastly different reactions to this show and are sharing their honest feelings, including the really angry ones (I can appreciate something and disagree with it!), and I get that sometimes the language of fannish reactions is intentionally, ironically hyperbolic. But there feels like this very serious trend of people legitimately thinking writers on this show are targeting shippers and have lost respect for their characters, and I just feel like an alien from another planet when I see that stuff. I guess I just feel like people make art because they want their art to be visible to other people and to themselves, but that doesn’t typically involve specifically catering to or torturing a subset of that audience?)

I am more fascinated by Sharon Fieldstone than ever before. I have been running through every single action with her and Ted so many times. The confirmation that she’s living in club-provided housing (that could not look more different from Ted’s club-provided flat). Ted clearly noticing the many bottles. Sharon’s face while she tries to casually recycle them. (Sharon could legitimately have a more problematic relationship with alcohol than Ted does, and I find that extremely interesting and am very curious to find out what happens there.) Sharon leaving him voice notes while she’s concussed, probably because she’d been thinking about him shortly before the accident. The way Ted calls her and does all the funny voices and it’s not frustrating like all the times he uses his silliness and allusions to deflect during their prior conversations because this time, those behaviors are just a part of him showing care for another person. The way they stretch each other, and Ted is still wrong about the things he’s been wrong about, but they both grow all the same.

While it is pretty much impossible for me to imagine that this show would include an actual romantic relationship between Ted and Sharon (it would be beyond unethical even if they could write it well, and Sharon in particular is so professional and committed to her work, and it would erase so much of the powerful message about the importance of seeking therapy from a professional who is not your friend or partner, and I would totally hate it), watching this episode was the first moment I had this queasy little feeling that it’s possible that Ted could end up developing really complicated feelings about Sharon since, at this point, he’s been honest with her about things he’s hardly spoken about before and you can really form an attachment to people you feel safe with in a new way. (I mean, I’m sure Michelle knows what happened with Ted’s father, but I’m not even certain if Beard does.) He’s so broken right now, and Sharon is such a great person and so different from anyone else in his life (even though Rebecca is also different, and Beard is also different, and Roy is also different, and so on), that I could see things getting really fuzzy for him. I continue to have faith in the way the storylines on this show are handled. I’m just. Putting this here.

(In saying that, though, I also wanna make it really clear that I don’t just automatically assume anytime a new female character is introduced that they’re going to end up becoming a romantic complication. Like, Phoebe is allowed to have a teacher who is an attractive woman and AFC Richmond is allowed to have a sports psychologist who is an attractive woman and Keeley is allowed to talk to Jamie Tartt without it threatening what she has with Roy and all these people can exist as human beings without the introduction of romantic drama.)

Isaac gives every player one haircut per season, OH MY GOD. The JOY during the haircut scene. YES.

KEELEY AND REBECCA. Their text thread. The affirming video call right before Rebecca goes into the restaurant. The way Keeley sits all snuggled up against Rebecca in her office.

I was pretty thoroughly spoiled for the Sam and Rebecca plot through 2x8, and I was bracing for something far more problematic and tortured than what happens in this episode. The words I would use to describe their scenes: awkward, cute, cringy, and understandable. There are a million reasons why this relationship isn’t sustainable, but I felt completely understanding of both their choices here. This show has a lot of thesis statements, but I keep going back to the idea from 2x1 that there are people who enter your life to help you get to the next point, and I think it’s entirely possible that Sam and Rebecca will mutually be that for each other.

I find comparisons between Rupert and Rebecca super upsetting. There are absolutely meaningful things to say about the irony of ending up in a situation with an uncomfortable resemblance to certain taboo elements of an ex’s situation. But that ex is abusive and manipulative and cruel and Rebecca has exhibited NONE of those behaviors, and it makes me really sad to think that people feel that the writers on this show have betrayed Rebecca in giving her this storyline.

As always, I reserve the right to keep blathering about this show. I’ve had a headache for a couple of days, but my head is also so full of 2x8 thoughts that I couldn’t keep them in even if the circumstances for writing this were not ideal. I kind of hate that I’ve included frustrated fandom thoughts within the analysis of what I felt was an absolutely gorgeous, complicated, heartbreaking, near-perfect episode of television, but if ya can’t be a little dramatic on your own tumblr while you’re feeling raw and under the weather, where can ya?

[xjoonchildx]

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader  chapter two: san juan

pairing: jungkook/reader word count: 6.6K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings:  criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: okay, ya’ll. I really never intended to make this story anything more than a one-shot...but a couple of people asked for more and then the wheels started turning, and I had more than a little crush on this sexy, smartassed jungkook. so here we are! I hope you guys like it.

xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna​ who’s smut is even better than her art

************************

You still think about Jungkook Jeon.

You think about him when you spot his beautiful face on the poster in the hallway at your office, with the word WANTED emblazoned across the top.

You think about him every time you fly because you leave condoms behind in the bathroom like some kind of kinky Fairy Godmother.

And sometimes -- late at night, after you’ve had a glass of wine -- you shut your eyes and think about him when you slip between the sheets and then slip a hand into your panties.

You wonder where in the world he is and how he’s getting away with life on the run -- again.

Though technically he’s not your problem anymore.

The Marshals took over his case after he pulled his vanishing act in Los Angeles, so it’s some other poor sap’s job to find him and bring him in.  You’d done your part -- you’d tracked him down and brought him to the States, even got him before a judge.  

So what happened after that didn’t happen on your watch.

Totally out of your hands.

No reason for you to still obsess over how it all went down.

At all.

Right?

************************

The humidity in San Juan hits you like a wall the second you step out of Muñoz Marín International Airport.

You quickly scan the throng of waiting drivers and find the one holding the sign with your name on it.  The suit you’d worn on the plane is already sticking to the backs of your thighs in this heat.

“Welcome to Puerto Rico,” the driver smiles warmly, offering to take your luggage off your hands. You smile back as you follow him to the line of cars idling outside.

The ding of a text alert distracts you for a moment.  

You pull out your phone and see it’s your boss, checking to make sure your flight landed on time.  The driver opens the car door and you slip inside while he pops the trunk to put your bags away.  

You’re so busy tapping out a response that you don’t realize something is off until the driver raps twice on the back of the car.

Because that’s a signal for the car to go.

Because the man behind the wheel is not the man who just loaded you and your bags into this car.

Because the man behind the wheel is --

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you breathe, eyes wide on the reflection in the rearview mirror.

He’s got a snapback pulled low over his face but you can still see his eyes. And you’d know those eyes anywhere. You’ve thought about those eyes a lot more than you’d like to admit.

“That -- “ Jungkook says, pressing the gas, “-- is the weirdest way to say you missed me, too.”

He tilts his head up so you can catch the reflection of his wide smile.

You are in a car with Jungkook Jeon. In a moving car with Jungkook Jeon.  

“Start talking,” you snap.  

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

You slump back into the seat and clap a hand over your face. Damn this man and damn his stupid, smart-assed, beautiful mouth.

“Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook snorts at the note of panic in your voice.  

“To your hotel, dummy.  You have a meeting in like, two hours.”

“Unbelievable,” you sigh after a moment. “Do I even want to know how you know all of this?”

“Well in my defense,” he starts, “you guys still have really shitty firewalls.  You’ve got a lot of nerve calling yourselves an intelligence agency with that set-up in place.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along your feedback,” you mutter.

“You should. So anyway, I was reading through your emails one day -- you know, as I do -- and I saw you were coming to town. I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you.”

Holy shit.

That’s a lot to take in right now and you’re still trying to process the series of events that led up to you, in a car with Jungkook Jeon.  You keep asking questions because it seems like the only sane thing to do in this entirely insane situation.

“You read my emails.”

“Yeah.”

“How often?”

“Uh….all the time?”

You blow out an exasperated breath.  

“You’re a real piece of work. Just what makes you think I won’t have this car surrounded by Feds by the time we get to the hotel?”

“You could,” he concedes thoughtfully. He looks up from the road for a moment to lock eyes with you in the rearview. “But we both know you won’t.”

His certainty makes you bristle.  Is he right about that?

You force yourself to look away from him and redirect your gaze outside to watch the carefully landscaped palm trees speed by.  He’s been here for some time, you think, as he navigates the streets with ease.  He doesn’t seem to be looking for his next turn or second-guessing which way to go. He’s not even using GPS.

“You are in some deep shit back home, Mr. Jeon,” you say, finally. “You embarrassed them. They hate being embarrassed.”

He chuckles.

“Don’t you think it’s time to drop the formalities, Agent? I’ve had my tongue in your pussy, you know.”

He startles a laugh from you with his casual, crass statement of fact.  You forgot how funny he is -- how smart and affable and completely disarming he is.

“Anyway, that’s their problem, not mine,” he continues. “And not yours anymore either, from what I understand.”

Boy, he really wasn’t kidding about those emails.

You mentally rummage through your inbox, try to imagine what information he’s had access to these past few months.  Countless agency messages, a few personal ones and at least one exchange that could qualify as both. You wonder if he’s seen that one, too.  

You clear your throat, uncomfortable with the thought.

“So what’s your plan, then? Hide out in plain sight in a territory of the United States?”

“It’s worked for me so far, hasn’t it?”

You roll your eyes.

“Anyway, my plan right now is to drop you off at this hotel,” Jungkook says, turning into the drive. “Then you’re going to skip that reception they have scheduled for tomorrow night because you’re going to have drinks with me instead.”

You say nothing for a moment.

It’s absurd that your first reaction to his words is a tingle of excitement. It’s ludicrous that you haven’t picked up the phone to call this in by this point. It’s fucking bananas that you’re picturing yourself sharing a drink with this man instead of having him arrested.

The car rolls to a stop.

“Now, as much as I’d love to act the part of a perfect gentleman and help you with those bags, I can’t,” Jungkook says, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a small piece of paper. “Your hotel is crawling with cameras and believe it or not, I’m trying to minimize the number of stupid risks I take these days.”

You snort.

He reaches behind his seat to hand you the note.

“Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 7 o’clock. Be sure to wear something tight, yeah?”

“You are out of your mind,” you say from between clenched teeth, snatching the paper out of his hand.

Jungkook laughs.

“I know, right?”

***********************************

You should call the Marshals.

You should really call the Marshals.

Why haven’t you called the goddamned Marshals?

“ -- do you think, Agent?”

Fuck.  

You can’t seem to keep your mind focused on this meeting and now everyone around the conference table is looking at you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” you’re forced to admit. “Catch me up?”

“I was saying,” Agent Dominguez starts again, “that given the damage done to the office here in San Juan, we should move agents to the mainland temporarily.  Miami, preferably.”

“Yes,” you agree. “That would be best.  Until we can get things back on track.”

Dominguez smiles in a skeptical way, like he knows you’re preoccupied and he’s curious as to why.  You smile back and hope it’s convincing.  

“We’ll have to go over some logistics, of course, after the final decisions are made,” he continues, turning his attention back to the room at large. “But for now, let’s consider that a flight from Miami is just a hop, skip, and a jump.  It makes sense.”

The rest of the assembled meeting guests murmur in agreement.

Your mind wanders back to that slip of paper tucked away inside your bag at the hotel, back to the man who gave it to you.  The ridiculous, self-assured little asshole who just knows you aren’t going to rat him out. Who just knows you’re going to join him for drinks like he’s not an actual federal fugitive and you’re not an actual federal agent.

Dominguez continues to drone on in the background.

“...and if you look at the numbers, you’ll see post-storm crime is actually way down…”

What you would give to be anywhere but this meeting right now.  You pinch the bridge of your nose, shut your eyes and go down the list of facts as you know them.

He’s been reading your emails.

Following your every move.

He wants to see you tonight.

What the hell is wrong with you that knowing all of this excites you instead of freaking you out? What does it mean that a part of you -- a really big part of you -- wants to take him up on his offer?

******************

Dominguez pulls you aside after the morning round of meetings wraps for lunch.  

“Hey,” he says, stopping you in the hallway.  “Are you alright? You’ve seemed just a little off since yesterday.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say apologetically. “Been feeling a little off these past two days.”

Not technically a lie?

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Dominguez replies smoothly.

“Hope you’ll be feeling up to attending the reception tonight,” he continues. “I’d hate for you to miss it.”

You offer him a weak smile.  The look on his face right now is making you a bit queasy.

What if they knew? What then?

Once was insane enough. Once could be written off as a mistake, a terrible lapse in judgement.  An embarrassing and regrettable fluke.

But twice? Twice is a choice, a conscious decision.  

Twice would make you complicit -- a co-conspirator, a co-defendant and a whole host of other “C” words you’d rather not contemplate right now.  

There would be no explaining away twice.

You busy yourself with getting a bottled water from the vending machine just to have an excuse to look away. You tell yourself not to be paranoid. You have no reason to suspect they know anything and this is not the time to borrow worry.

“I’m going to try and get some rest after we wrap for the day,” you say finally, opening the bottle to take a drink.  “See if I feel better after that.”

Dominguez’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.  

“You do that, Agent.”

***********************

Wrapped in a towel, fresh from a shower, you alternate between staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror and looking back at that damning piece of paper in your hand.

You should put on the nice-but-work-appropriate cocktail dress you’d chosen for the reception that you should be attending tonight.  You should drop this piece of paper in the trash, forget Jungkook Jeon exists and move on.  You should be having drinks with your colleagues from the San Juan office in an hour, making decisions that don’t amount to career suicide and living life on the straight and narrow like a normal fucking human being.

Should, should, should.

You walk over to your suitcase and pull out a slim-cut sundress with spaghetti straps instead. You smooth your hands over the delicate material, imagine the light weight of the fabric would feel just right in this humid weather.  You slip the dress over your shoulders, smooth it down with your hands, turn from side to side to assess the fit.

For a moment you close your eyes and allow yourself to imagine Jungkook slipping his hands underneath this dress, pushing the hem up your thighs. You imagine his thumbs and fingers circling the sensitive skin there.  His lips on your neck.  His voice in your ear.

The sound of an incoming text knocks you out of your fantasy and you open your eyes to see your flushed reflection staring back in the mirror. You reach for your phone.

you gonna make it out tonight? [ 5:48 PM ]

You stare at Dominguez’s message for a moment.

Decision time.

Are you?

************************

You’ve been over every step you took before leaving the hotel at least a dozen times by now.

You’d sent Domniguez a text, claiming to be under the weather.

You’d left your phone in the safe in your room.

You’d walked out of the hotel through a service exit and into a waiting car.

All clear, decisive, sane choices despite the fact that you are obviously a crazy person. Because no one in their right mind would be pulling this kind of stunt.

The ride is short, only a few minutes from your federally-funded accommodations to the much more humble beachside hotel where Jungkook told you to meet him. You give the driver more than enough money to cover the fare and tip and step out into the thick night air.  You spot him a short distance away, sitting at a tiki bar just off the water.

Puerto Rico has apparently been very good to Jungkook Jeon.  

He is reclined casually in a barstool, drinking a bottled beer.  The creamy off-white of his linen shirt is a perfect contrast to the deep golden tan he’s managed to acquire these past few months. He’s let his wavy black hair grow long again and it falls just below his ears. The laugh he shares with the bartender reveals his smile and makes him look relaxed and radiant and fucking perfect.

Jungkook turns in his stool just as you approach and the slow, appreciative once-over he gives you makes your entire body feel warm. The corner of his mouth curves up in a half-smile.

Dammit.

You’ve got to get your head on straight.

Jungkook isn’t some hot, available guy you’re trying to land. He’s a wanted man and the fact that he’s sitting out in the open at this tiny outdoor beach bar makes you nervous. It’s a saving grace that the bar is damned near dead but there are still too many angles, too many clear lines of sight. You’re annoyed that he’s being so flippant about keeping a low profile.  

You wait until you are close enough to whisper before you speak.

“This is a terrible idea.”

He cocks a brow. “Drinks?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” you hiss. “We need to go somewhere more private.”

“Christ woman,” he groans. “Don’t you know it’s polite to wine and dine me first? I’m not a piece of meat, you know.”

He grins when you huff your frustration.

“Besides, if you were really worried about drawing attention --” he pauses, rakes an appreciative gaze across your décolletage, “-- you certainly wouldn’t have worn that dress.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, does he ever turn it off? Is he incapable of recognizing how risky and fucked up this situation really is?

“You’re an idiot,” you bite out, turning to leave -- but Jungkook grabs for your wrist.

“Relax,” he soothes, pulling you back.  “Seriously.  I have the situation under control.”

A charged moment passes as you give him a long look. His hand remains firm and warm around your wrist.

“Do you trust me?”

What a ridiculous question.  

What you know about Jungkook Jeon could fit on an index card, and what little information you do have doesn’t exactly do him any favors. You’re putting your career -- potentially even your freedom at risk even being here.

But something about the naked sincerity on his face makes you want to trust him.

God only knows why.

You take a deep breath in and out before sliding into the barstool he’s pulled out for you.  The bartender smiles from a few feet away, makes his way over.  You tense, turning to face away and Jungkook puts a steadying hand on your knee.

“It’s cool,” he murmurs. “He knows me.”

“Why on earth do you think that’s supposed to make me feel better?” you fire back.

“I think -- you just need to have a drink,” he reasons, eyes sparkling. He lifts his beer to his lips and you catch yourself staring for a moment at the way the tendons in his arms flex, the way his lips slide over the mouth of the bottle.

Has the simple act of drinking a beer always looked that masculine?

Shit, you do need a drink.

You order a mojito without ever looking the bartender in the eye. Whoever he is -- Jungkook’s buddy it would seem -- he’s understanding about your appalling lack of manners. He can probably recognize a truly fucked-up situation from a mile away and is steering clear like someone with an inkling of common sense.

For his part, Jungkook has dropped the flirtatious act for a moment and the small smile that plays across his face is calm and reassuring.

It works.

“Alright Jeon,” you sigh after a moment. “Let’s talk. How did you do it?”

He takes a long drink of his beer.

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

You’d expected as much. You would bet everything in the bank that his parents helped him get out of Los Angeles.  The kind but guarded look on his face is the closest you’ll get to a confirmation of that fact.

“Ask me anything else.”

“Fine.  How did you pull off the stunt at the airport?”

“Oh, that was easy,” Jungkook teases. “I found the driver holding your name card and offered him twice the fare. He was happy to help me out. Nice guy, actually.”

“He’s lucky you didn’t cut me into pieces,” you grumble.

Jungkook laughs. “You’ve got a wild imagination. Besides, who wouldn’t trust a face like this?”

To make his point, he turns from side to side to offer you a better look at his profiles. Outwardly you roll your eyes, but inwardly it’s hard to ignore the sharp line of his jaw, the perfectly symmetrical angles of his face.  You take another long drink from the cocktail in your hand.

“Why Puerto Rico?”

“Why not? The scenery is beautiful, the food is delicious, and people know how to mind their own goddamned business,” He takes another sip of beer. “Besides, you guys didn’t exactly leave me with a lot of options when you took my passport. And hey -- thanks for that, by the way.  Finding a good fake is a real bitch.”

“We’re not travel agents, Jeon,” you snort.

He laughs.

“So this -- “ you motion to the small building attached to the tiki bar, “ -- is where you’ve been staying?”

“Dammit, woman — I said ask me anything, not everything. You’re not wearing a wire, are you?”  

He grins at the glare you fix him with.  

“I’m kidding, obviously. No way you’d be able to hide a wire under that delightful little number.”

He chuckles when you flush.

“So yeah, this is one place I’ve been staying. Mostly locals around here.  After the storm, so many new people turned up to help rebuild that it’s been pretty easy to blend in with the new faces.  Plus, it’s not hard to find work.”

“So you’ve got this all figured out, huh?”

“Some of it,” he demures, and you can’t help but notice he’s managed to slide a little closer.  His proximity is distracting. You’ve only had one drink and you already feel a bit lightheaded.

Jungkook scrubs a hand down his mouth, fixes you with a long look.

“Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Fair enough,” you concede.

“You gonna go to dinner with him?”

You exhale a nervous laugh against the rim of your glass. You’d wondered if the series of back-and-forth emails between you and Agent Kim Namjoon would come up. You should have known it would.

Agent Kim’s last email came this week. It said he would be traveling to Los Angeles for some training soon.

It said that he wanted to take you to dinner.  

You should have fired back an enthusiastic yes! right away because Agent Kim is hot and smart and to your knowledge has zero outstanding warrants.

But you didn’t.

Jungkook tilts the mouth of his beer against his lips.  

“Well?”

“Yes,” you say, finally.

“Don’t.”

The reply is so abrupt, so emphatic that you have to laugh.

“Why?”

“He’s an empty suit. A cardboard cut-out. Not right for you at all.”

The smirk on Jungkook’s mouth indicates he’s teasing, but his tone indicates something else entirely. The territorial current that runs under his words is annoying and exciting and complicated.

“He’s just trying to fuck you, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow at that.

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“No,” he murmurs, leaning close. “I have fucked you. I plan on fucking you again. He and I are not the same, at all.”

His words set off a throb between your thighs and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, uncross and recross your legs.  Jungkook leans back, looking satisfied with how much he’s managed to unnerve you.

“So this is some kind of pissing contest?”

You laugh to keep the sounds of your words light, but your words come out uneven. “You stalk my inbox for months and abduct me from the airport to what -- keep me from fucking Agent Kim? You hate him that much?”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Kim,” he snaps. He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“You know what this is about. Don’t play with me.”

He’s right, of course.  You do know what this is about.  

It’s why you fucked him in an airplane bathroom against all rules of decorum and common sense.  It’s why you’re here, making stupid decisions and taking dumb risks instead of back at your hotel playing it safe. It’s why you’ve never been able to stop thinking about him.

Something connects you to this man, something you don’t really understand -- and now you know for a fact that whatever it is, it isn’t one-sided.

Your body is rigid, unnaturally still as the bartender drops off new drinks and you immediately reach for the glass, if for no other reason than to stall.  Jungkook takes a long sip from his new beer before speaking again.  You can feel his eyes on you but you don’t look back.

“I like you.”  

No sarcastic quip follows. No charged sexual innuendo.  Something about that simple admission is more intimate than the fact that he’s literally been inside you.

“You don’t know anything about me,” is the only thing you can think to say.  

Jungkook shoots you a playful smile.

“I know you like mojitos.  I know you have a standing appointment with some fancy hair salon in LA every six weeks.  I know you order Chipotle far more than is necessary or probably healthy.”

He leans closer and the look on his face changes into something different -- something that makes you shiver.  He slides his hand under your jaw, tips your head up, strokes a thumb across your cheek.  

“I know what you sound like when you come,” he whispers. “I know I’d like to hear that again.”

Oh, God.

This must be what it’s like to drown. To see your demise play out before your eyes but still feel powerless to stop it.  Every smart-assed retort you could fire back dies on your tongue and all you can do is blink when Jungkook brushes his lips against yours.

“And I know you like me too,” he whispers against your mouth.

He’s right.

You do.

You really, really do.

*****************************

It’s like a switch flips inside your brain.  Once you start kissing him, you can’t stop.  

You both fall through the open door to his room in a tangle of limbs and lips.

Jungkook lifts you up off the floor and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist, never stopping the assault on his mouth and skin.  He moans when you lick a stripe up his neck. He tastes like salt and sunscreen and sex and you are so desperate to feel him inside you that you can’t think straight.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he protests, walking you both over to the mattress.  He drops you unceremoniously on top of the bedding.

“Stop.”

“God, no,” you groan, panting.  “Why?”

He takes a deep breath in and out, shoves a hand through his hair.  

“I promised myself I was going to take my time with you if I ever got this chance again,” he explains, voice ragged with arousal. “No cuffs. No rush. Not this time.”

You huff in exasperation and climb up onto your knees on the mattress.  

Jungkook’s eyes widen when you drop both hands to the hem of your dress and pull it up and off in one swift motion.  You’d had to forgo a bra given the skimpy nature of your sundress and it’s easy to forget he hasn’t really seen you naked. The look on his face says he heartily approves.

“Take your time later,” you fire back.  “Take your clothes off now.”

Jungkook laughs.  “Are you always this bossy?”

“Yes.  If you wait one minute longer I’m going to sober up and realize this is a terrible decision. Take your clothes off.”

“Hush woman.”  

He silences you with mock annoyance as his fingers drop to work the buttons of his shirt. You catch your mouth before it drops open as he pulls the shirt off, exposing the chiseled planes of his body.  You swallow thickly when he drops the garment to the floor.  

No human being should be allowed to look like this.

It’s obscene.

The tattoos that run across his hands and forearms extend up to his shoulders, across his chest. The defined lines that outline his abdomen are made even more plain by his deep breaths.  He is -- hands down -- the sexiest man you have ever seen in your life.  

“Shit Jungkook, you’ve been holding out on me,” you breathe, a note of awe in your voice.

“And I knew you had amazing tits,” he grins, shoving his jeans off his hips. “Lie back.”

The gruff command makes your body tight with anticipation.  Jungkook’s face is damp with sweat, locks clinging to his brow when he sinks down onto the mattress and crawls until he’s hovering over you.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers, slanting his lips over yours.  “Goddamnit, I’ve been thinking about this for so damned long.”

You sigh into his mouth.

Me too, you want to say. But you don’t.

“I’ve thought about the way you taste every single day, did you know that?”

He circles one aching nipple with his tongue and teeth.  You whimper at the heavy drag of his tongue.  

“I’ve imagined getting my mouth on you again far more than is normal or sane,” he whispers against your skin, pulling the damp lace of your panties off your ankles and tossing it away.

“Jungkook,” you whine. “Please.”

His lips skate over the sensitive skin between your breasts, across your stomach as he slides downward.  Your body stills when you feel his lips at your entrance, breath warm against your wetness.  

The first touch of his tongue is quick, teasing.  You’re wound so tight your hips jerk off the bed at that light contact.

“Easy girl,” Jungkook teases, sealing his mouth over your clit.  The strong fingers of one hand press into your hip, grip you tight to keep you from pulling away.  He slips one long finger from his other hand inside you to join his tongue in the all-out assault.

“God you are sexy,” he groans, licking deeply into you.  You grab handfuls of his damp hair in between shaking fingers.   “You’ve ruined me for all other federal agents, you know.”

Your laugh bleeds into a gasp when Jungkook slips a second finger inside of you, presses harder against you with his tongue.

“Oh, shit,” you whine, legs trembling. You roll your hips mindlessly, enjoying the way he moans in response.

“You gonna let me hear it again?” his words vibrate almost painfully against your already aching clit. “Be as loud as you want this time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh in agreement, feeling that telltale prickle building between your thighs.

He sets you off with the firm press of the heel of his hand on your mound.  You can’t control your body’s reaction when the pressure against that sensitive wall and the stimulation of your clit combine.  Your back arches high off the bed when you start to come apart, moaning wantonly.

Your orgasm seems to go on and on forever and Jungkook whispers words of encouragement as you ride it out.  He doesn’t stop with his tongue and fingers until you start to quiver from the overstimulation, breaths hitching when shudders run up and down your back.

“Dammit, Jungkook,” you gasp once you regain control of your ragged breathing.

He laughs as he kisses his way back up your body, across your chest and neck.  You welcome the press of his body when he settles over you.  He grinds his hips down and you whimper at the feel of his rigid cock straining against his boxers.   You clench hard at the memory of him deep inside you.

“Take those off,” you order, scraping your teeth against the damp skin of his neck.

“Ask me nice and I might consider it,” he teases.

You shoot him a playfully disapproving look before pushing against his shoulder until he rolls over.  His eyes fall shut when you climb over him and drag your drenched center against the firm outline of his cock.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he whispers, and you lean forward to seal your lips over his.  He pants into your mouth as you rock against him.

You slide down his body after a moment, hooking your fingers into his boxers and pulling them down with you.

The thing about your hurried little encounter inside that airplane bathroom is that it’s hard to remember the details.  It was so rushed and illicit and bizarre that you can barely recount what he felt like, what he looked like in the moment.  But right now -- when his cock springs free and he looks down at you from beneath heavy lids and he looks so sincerely fucked out -- you make sure to commit this moment to memory.  

Jungkook sucks a strangled breath between his teeth when you take him in your mouth.  His fingers immediately wind into your hair and you sigh around his length when he groans his satisfaction.  His hips jerk when you pull off of him, dragging your tongue against the sensitive spot under the head of his cock before releasing it.

“Shit,” he moans, “I forgot how good you are at that.”

You laugh and wrap one hand firmly around the base of his cock. He’s already leaking at the tip and he hisses when you sweep your tongue across the swollen head. He gathers your hair in his hands, pulls gently on the strands but you can feel the restraint he’s exercising. His body is radiating tension, taut with unspent energy.  

“You can get rougher if you want,” you breathe, pumping him steadily with your hands.  

His agonized groan tells you he’d love to take you up on that offer.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” he pants, words sounding pained. “I’m doing everything I can not to literally blow my second chance here.”

You release his cock with a smile and he pulls away to shift his body up the bed. He reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a condom.  He holds it up for a moment and the two of you share a knowing laugh.

The laughter dies the moment you crawl up the bed to join him and take the condom out of his hand.  Jungkook’s eyes are dark and focused as you rip it open and roll it down his straining cock.  Once it’s in place he steals the air from your lungs with a deep kiss and pulls you onto his lap.  

You’re struck still for a moment when you look down at him just as you are lining him up with your entrance. He looks back at you with those blown-out pupils and kiss-bitten lips and you lose your momentum.  You should say something or do something but it’s so damned hard to focus when he’s looking at you like that.

He brushes a damp lock of hair away from your face with his fingers and fixes you with an expectant look.

You want to tell him how handsome he is.

You want to tell him that he’s the most interesting person you’ve ever met.

But you don’t.  

Jungkook rescues you from your sudden crisis with a well-timed tease.

“You’ve been rushing me since we got here,” he chuckles, brow raised. “You’re gonna leave me like this?”

He grabs the base of his stiff cock with one hand, rubs the head against your clit to make his point. You answer him with a desperate kiss, swallowing the groan he makes when you finally sink down.

His hands move to either side of your ass to guide the movement of your hips.  Your first few thrusts are hesitant, shaky as you adjust to the feeling of him deep inside you.  He feels harder and thicker than you remember.

“Oh, god --” you moan.

You feel his faint hum of satisfaction against your breasts.  He tongues messily at your aching nipples, sucks them into his mouth.  His fingers dig into your ass as he thrusts up to meet your thrusts down.  

His mouth is full of you. His hands are full of you.  You are full of him.  The feeling of filling and being filled is unbearable at this point.  It’s so much stimulation at once that it borders on painful.

“Feel so good wrapped around me like this,” Jungkook groans. “I can’t get enough.”

Me neither, you want to say. I’ve been dying to feel you like this, you nearly whisper.

But you don’t.

You feel disoriented for a moment and grab onto the headboard for desperately needed balance.  It gives you the leverage you need to take him deeper, faster, and the steady rhythm of his thrusts and breaths starts to pick up in speed.

Then you make the mistake of opening your eyes and looking down into his face.

He is covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes hooded and mouth slack with pleasure. He fixes you with a look so erotic you nearly blush.  It’s pretty ridiculous to be literally riding a man’s cock and feel suddenly shy, but that’s exactly what happens.  

You force yourself to close your eyes.

Jungkook buries his face in your neck. You feel one of his hands move away from your hips, down to where the two of you meet. The rough pad of one thumb starts to work your clit and the stimulation distracts you for a moment, makes your rhythm sloppy.  

“I want to feel you come,” he breathes, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone and neck. “I want to know what it feels like when I’m inside you.”

“So close,” you whine on a shaky breath.

“I’m gonna go off like a bomb,” he groans, stroking so deep you see stars.  “Take me with you.”

If it weren’t for the one hand keeping you anchored to the headboard, you’d have collapsed onto him with the sheer force of your orgasm.  You whimper as Jungkook’s orgasm rips through him, body shuddering as he pounds harder and faster.  It takes a few frantic, frenzied moments for his rhythm to slow and his moans to subside.

Then you do slump onto him, spent and sweaty and rubbery with utter exhaustion. You’re both still for a moment, damp bodies pressed together as you both catch your breath.

He brushes your hair away from your face and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

***********************************

You take a shower together.  

Afterwards, you both fall back into bed clean and warm.  

You make good on your promise to let Jungkook take his time this go-around.  He fucks you slow and relaxed from behind while you lay side by side.  The steady lap of the waves outside his window is a perfect backdrop as he whispers into your ear and buries himself deep inside you.

Afterwards, everything is still but the waves.  

You both enjoy the complete silence for a while.  Your stroke your fingers across the strong forearm Jungkook has wrapped around you and he breathes deeply into your hair.  It feels natural, somehow.

It feels good.  

You can’t remember the last time anything felt this good.

“Stay with me,” Jungkook whispers after a while, nosing into the nape of your neck.  He drops a soft kiss on the sensitive skin just below your ear.  

“I can’t,” you whisper back.  “I have a meeting first thing in the morning. Don’t tell me you skipped that email.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“I wasn’t talking about tonight.”

You go rigid from head to toe.  Maybe you didn’t hear that right.

“What?”

“Stay with me,” he says again, like it’s going to make more sense the second time he says it. “We could go all over the world and eat the best food and fuck in the most beautiful places.”  His fingers stroke up your side, sending chills up your back. “It could be great.”

You wait for him to laugh.  He doesn’t.

You pull out of his hold, flip your body so that you’re facing him.  You expect to see his teasing smirk staring back, but you don’t. He looks serious.

“What the fuck was in that beer, Jeon?”

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” he says quietly. “You could think about it for a while.”

You stare at the side of his perfect profile, dazed for a moment by the strange combination of feelings swirling inside you right now.  

There’s disbelief at the insane Bonnie and Clyde fantasy he’s decided to pitch.

There’s disappointment because there’s a tiny part of you that wants to entertain that fantasy.

And there’s a little bit of heartache because right now he looks so lonely.  

That’s the part that gnaws at you.  It makes you feel raw and exposed.  So you do what you know best and try to redirect with humor.

“Who’s got a wild imagination now, huh?”

His lips twitch into a wry smile.  

************************

You’d waited until you were certain he was asleep before slipping out of his arms and out of the bed.  He slept heavy, not stirring once while you slipped into your clothes and shoes.  He slept like someone without a care in the world.

Hardly.

It had taken a moment to find a piece of paper.  It was only just as you were about to give up that you remembered Jungkook’s note, tucked safely into your bag.

You looked back at him in the bed -- studied him for a moment before quietly scrawling a note on the other side of that piece of paper.

you know i can’t. i’m sorry.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Nsfw alphabet (all of it) for Loki? Also, l love ur star wars ocs 💕

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He praises you to high heaven after sex.  His words come low and soft as he cleans up you telling you, in so many different way, how perfect you are.  His silver tongue doesn’t stumble once.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your neck.  It’s so easy to tease you with just a simple brush of his lips against that particular part of your skin. An open canvas for him bite and mark as he wishes.  And it’s the perfect fit for his hand to squeeze as he fucks you.

As for himself, he likes his hands. He knows you appreciate the length and dexterity of his fingers.  Not to mention it’s where most of his true power resides.  They are magic hands, after all. ;)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He leaves such a mess when he cums.  He loves cumming all over your skin; stomach, back, face, tits, it doesn’t matter.  It’s his way of marking you. He’ll even take his fingers like a brush and paint it all over your body.

Even when he cums inside you, he still manages to leave his mark. He’ll spread you open, watching in fascination as a mix of your cum and his own drip down your inner thigh.  He likes to take his fingers then, and spread is down your skin before licking it with his tongue.  He’s a complete slut when it comes to cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t have many to be honest.  He’s very open about what he wants with you.  After a thousands years or so, you learn that there’s no shame in sharing with someone you trust.

But, there have been a few instances he’s has to keep himself from moaning “mommy”.  He’s not sure where it came from and that’s one kink he’s does not want to explore.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Thor might be more bombastic, but Loki has perfected the art of whispering into an ear and making the hearer weak at the knees. So yes, he’s been around the block a few times with a variety of partners.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It really depends on his mood.

If he’s in a dominating mood then he loves taking you from behind, your back pressed against his chest and his hand clasped around your throat.

If he wants to be dominated, then please tie his wrists to the bedpost and ride his face. He wants your cum.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He runs the gambit from emotional and intense to a sexy, but fun romp in the hay. There are moments he can’t help, but make a joke or a smug comment at your expense. It keeps things unpredictable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He actually keeps up a pretty close shaved down there. Not that there was much there in the first place. Perhaps the first hint he wasn’t Asgardian.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As I said before, he runs a wide range of emotions when you’re fucking.

But, when he is in the mood or his emotions become too overwhelming, he can be extremely intimate. Sometimes it’s praises as he makes love to you, wondering how he could be so lucky. Other times it’s desperate and pleading, clinging to your body and begging you not to leave.

And then there are days he just wants to have a bit of fun.

You’re never too sure what you’re going to get on an given day.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not as often as you’d think. If he’s in the mood, he prides himself on being able to find a partner to satisfy him. Using his own hand feels childish and a little embarrassing. So, he won’t do it unless he’s really desperate.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

God, it would be easy to lists the stuff he isn’t into.

First and foremost, he’s 110% a switch. Yes he’s got mad Big Dick Daddy Dom energy when he wants to and there are a number of fantasies he has that involve tying you up and using you as his personal fuck toy.

But if you’re telling me this same disaster theater nerd twink doesn’t also allow his partners to peg him on the reg, then you are dead wrong.

That all being said, I’d also like to add exhibitionism to the list. There are times you swear he wants to get caught when he fucks you against the bookshelves in the library, or in the gardens or even against the one of the pillars in the palace. If it weren’t for his illusions, you might have.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The most common place is your bedroom. That’s where you can pull out all the stops and really take your time.

But as I said above, he does take a certain thrill out of almost being caught. If he were being honest, he’s say the library was near the top of his favorite places to fuck.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Assertiveness is certainly top of the list. Knowing that you want him and no one else, combined with your confidence can lead him pleading at your feet.

Jealousy is also a motivator. If he sees another man trying to move in on you, that’s his cue to pull you into the nearest empty room and fuck you senseless. Alternatively, if he sees you getting jealous of someone hitting on him, then he’ll pull you aside and show you in every way he can that he is yours.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Infanalization, or really any age play where either of you is expected to act like a child. It’s insulting to him for one thing, since he can take some sexual humiliation, but he draws the line at not being at least considered a man.

As for you, he wants to be with an adult plain and simple. He finds it tedious and insipid otherwise.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Again, split right down the middle. There are nights that all he wants to do is tie your wrists to the bed posts as he buries himself between your legs, making you cum and cum again on his tongue until you can’t move.

Other times, he wants to pull your hair and fuck your face, making you take every inch of him before cumming down your throat.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Leans more towards the fast and rough, averaging at about 65% of the time. But for the other 35%, he takes his sweet time.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes and please. Preferably during a ball or some other formal event where he fucks you in an empty corridor before eventually rejoining the party like nothing happened.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

All the time. He’ll trying anything once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s usually good for one to three rounds. But those rounds can last anywhere from 15 minutes a piece or a full hour depending on why you’re doing. So, stamina is never an issue.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

A whole trunk full. Like I said, he’ll try anything once.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

All the god damn time. If a party is particularly dull, he’ll spend the whole night teasing you. It’s a game to see how fast he can make you break.

There have been times he’s teased you right to the edge only to leave you tied to the bed and aching for hours before finishing the job.

And don’t even get me started on him trying to make you jealous of purpose. He’s such a drama queen.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can be quiet if he really needs to be. If you’re having sex in a semi-public space he at least has the sense to keep it to himself; grunting and whispering dirty words against your skin.

When you’re in private however, all bets are off. He runs his mouth, he moans, he growls, and he curses like it’s going out of style.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He can talk a big game with one night stands, but his favorite kind of sex is with a consistent partner. He wants to be desired, but more than that, he wants to be chosen and chosen consistently. Having one person there every day choosing to be with him is everything.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Not an overly thick or heavy cock, but certainly longer than average and it’s width proportional to his size. A nice, pretty seven inch dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s strange, but when it’s just him and one night stands, his sex drive isn’t insane. He’s not going to get a head ache if he doesn’t have sex and dry spells don’t bother him as much.

But when he’s actually in a relationship, his sex drive is off the charts. I think he ultimately like the idea of someone wanting and choosing him consistently. It’s one of his biggest turn ons. So, you guys are having sex at least every other night.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a while to doze off. He likes to make sure you comfortable and clean. He’ll massage your muscles if you need it and talk the night away. He doesn’t want to miss a moment if he can help it.

[longing-and-heartache-and-lust]

the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.XI

[previous] [next] [Ao3]

Allow me to present to you one of the longest chapters of my work for this year’s @geraskierbigbang in collaboration with my favourite @gen-syz-art as my artist 💕

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The journey takes him a little over three weeks.

He moves slower this time, despite the worry and anticipation mixed into one somewhere deep in his chest urging him forward. He needs time to think. 

To really think about everything.

He needs to reflect on the time they’ve spent together because that way - and only that way - will he know what to say when he comes back. He knows he needs to apologise for leaving like that, for making them both so confused with his words and actions, but he also needs to know what he’s going to say after that.

Is he going to ask if they can start over? Pick up from where they’ve stopped the last time? Take a few steps back?

It’s hard to tell what he wants, let alone how it’s going to be.

If Jaskier doesn’t accept his apologies and tells him to go away, will he do as he’s told or will he stay, unwilling to give up that easily? If he cannot fix what he’d broken, if he’d hurt Jaskier too much, what will he do?

Eskel sounded very convincing, telling him that Jaskier won’t turn him away at the gates, but now that Eskel wasn’t here, it was harder to believe. And though he’d promised to keep Geralt company if Jaskier does tell him to go away, Geralt doesn’t know what he’ll do if that really happens. It hurts so much as it is, he can barely imagine what he’s going to do if he doesn’t get the chance to fix it.

Eskel was right, Geralt had never been in love before.

He never even thought that that’s what that feeling in his chest is, but after Eskel said that it’s love and he thought about it, he realised soon enough that he was right.

As terrifying as it was to admit, but he was hopelessly in love.

What other explanation was there to the fire burning in his chest? To just how much it made him feel when Jaskier was close, when Geralt held him in his arms and pressed those soft, half-hearted kisses into his hair?

He’d thought it was just lust, at first.

Jaskier was driving him insane with all his little games, always close enough to kiss but never closing in that distance; always teasing and provoking only to break away just before Geralt could snap, laughing with the power he’s got over the witcher.

Geralt wanted to pin him to the nearest wall, kiss that grin off his lips, strip his bard - his prince - of all that silk and see just what kind of sweet little sound he could get him to make. Learn what his body feels like against Geralt’s own, the taste of his flawless skin.

But almost from the start, he knew he wanted more than just that. And in that last week they’ve spent together, he realised just how much more.

He wanted to have Jaskier in his arms as he fell asleep every night and then woke up in the morning. He wanted to steal kisses from him during the day for no real reason other than to feel his lips on his own, and stay in bed until night falls again, having postponed all responsibilities in favour of simply being together.

He wanted to see that bright smile on Jaskier’s lips and know that he’s the reason for it, and be his comfort if something upsets him.

It was unlike him at all, Geralt knew that, but there was little he could do about his heart. He used to think that he had control over it, just like over every other part of his body, but forcing his heart to stay calm on a hunt turned out to be very different to trying to force it to do the same thing when it came to Jaskier.

It was a lost cause.

He fell hard and fast, without even realising, and now he had to fix what he’d done while trying to run from it.

It was overwhelming at first, but slowly, as he sorted through all his feelings and emotions, it became easier to put into words. The pain was still there, and he doubted it would go away unless Jaskier forgives him for leaving the way he did, but now there was also hope.

Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could get both their hearts to heal.

***

When there are only a few more days left between him and the mansion, Geralt gets nervous again.

Falling asleep at night gets harder than it should be, and he stays up for hours, playing out dialogues in his head, trying to find the right words to say when he sees Jaskier again.

His scent still bears a hint of his scent from those nights that they’ve spent looking at the stars, both covered with it, and Geralt keeps it close to him at night, so that when he does finally fall asleep, he has the scent of dried herbs and vanilla somewhere deep in his lungs.

When he reaches the now-familiar little town, he decides to stay for the night even though the sun had just started to set. He needs some proper rest before closing in that remaining distance.

Geralt leaves Roach in the stables, making sure that she will receive the best possible care after a long journey, and makes his way to the same inn that he’d stayed at both previous times. The innkeeper recognises him instantly, but Geralt is not really in the mood to talk. It’s been a long couple of months.  

He rents a room on the upper floor, where it’s quiet, though he’s not entirely ready to meet that silence.

Dinner doesn’t seem appealing, the nerves almost making Geralt feel nauseous, so he chooses to just order himself a bath, instead. With any luck, it will relax him enough for him to fall asleep before dawn.

***

The last two hours between the town and the mansion feel like an eternity.

A couple of times Geralt has to stop Roach to breathe through the waves of cold fear, but he knows that there is little he can do to really keep it at bay. It’s strange, because he can barely even remember what it's like, being this nervous, but then again, hunting werewolves and wraiths is not the same as trying to piece a broken heart back together.

When they do finally reach the mansion, Geralt stops a quarter-mile away from the gates to give himself just a little more time.

“It’s going to be alright,” he reassures Roach, patting her neck, but really, he’s telling that to himself. “You’ll see.”

The mare flicks an ear at him, unimpressed, but once he bribes her with a sugar cube, she bumps her head into his shoulder affectionately. It does make him feel a little better.

Geralt lets go of the reins, knowing that Roach will follow him regardless, and takes in a deep breath, walking up to the gates.

It’s unusually quiet, the gardens seemingly completely empty, and for a second, Geralt feels like his heart stops beating completely, that familiar cold fear washing over him. Is it too late? Has he really hurt Jaskier so much that he’d left the mansion?

Forcing his breathing to stay even, he brings his hand up to push on one of the arches of the gates. They open without resistance, letting him through. Before taking another step, Geralt stops and listens, all his senses heightened, and, after a few endless seconds, sighs in relief, picking up the faint sounds of voices and movement from somewhere deeper in the garden.

At first, he wants to go to the front door, assuming that Jaskier would be in the library, but something deep inside him says that that’s not the right place, that he should look in the gardens.

“You found my hiding place.”

“Searched the entire garden.”  

“This is one of my favourite places of the entire estate. If I’m not in the mansion, I’m here.”

The willow tree, Geralt thinks, His hiding place.

Walking through the gardens on his own feels wrong, almost like he’s no more than an intruder, but he just cannot wait for someone to come up to him and offer company. He needs to find Jaskier before that feeling of uncertainty seeps deep enough into his bones for him not to go through with it.

The willow is hidden deep in the gardens, and it takes Geralt some time to find the right path but eventually, he hears Asra and Lucio somewhere ahead, and that is all the conduit he needs to find his way. The dogs are always somewhere close to their owner.

Geralt knows that they can smell him long before they see him, and still, both dogs perk up when he gets into their field of vision. On some level, he expects them to run up to him and sniff at his armour, like they did all the times before, as if reassuring him that he’s still welcome here, but both Asra and Lucio stay put, only their nostrils flaring. They step from one leg to the other, like they want to come closer, but their ears stay pressed to their heads in hesitation.

They can’t trust him anymore, because he’d hurt Jaskier.

It feels like another stab into his chest, but Geralt knows that it’s fair, that it’s what he deserves after leaving like that.

“I need to see him,” he says softly as he comes closer and the dogs block his way.

They don’t growl or act aggressive in any other way, but Geralt knows that they’re going to protect Jaskier no matter what.

“I want to talk,” he says, raising his hands as if to indicate that he’s unarmed, that he’s not going to hurt the bard again. “I cannot leave this as it is.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the tone of his voice or the words themselves but whatever it is, both Asra and Lucio stay in their place as he brushes past them and moves the long vines of the willow to the side, stepping inside with no breath in his lungs.

His heart feels like it rips apart when he sees Jaskier.

He’s in the same spot as he’d been in the last time, an open book in his lap, heavily annotated in his delicate handwriting. Instead of the forest-green silk, though, he’s wearing a chemise of dark silver, the sleeves a waterfall of silk down his arms. It’s almost a steel shade, same as the autumn sky above, and for some reason, it resonates through Geralt in another wave of pain.

Jaskier notices him out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t raise his head.

“Whatever it is, Arthur, I’ll deal with it later,” he says, and Geralt could swear that his voice sounds so tired that it’s like even talking in itself is hard for him. “If there’s someone at the gates, tell them I’m not accepting visitors.”

Geralt stays in place, his heart beating hard and fast, and a few moments later, Jaskier finally raises his head. His eyes widen, shoulders going tense.

“Geralt?”

There’s an edge of a tremble to his voice, and Geralt wants to throw himself onto the grass next to him, pull Jaskier into his arms and hold him until he’s safe and warm again. But he stays where he is, unsure if he’s allowed as much as a touch.

Jaskier’s breathing gets heavier, and he snaps his fingers once- twice- three times, never taking his eyes off Geralt, before looking down and his trembling hands, something like disbelief slithering through the blue of his eyes.

“Is it really you?” he asks, getting up to his feet, holding onto the tree trunk with one hand.

Finally, Geralt takes a step closer, barely even realising.

“It’s me.”

And then, before he knows it, Jaskier closes in the distance between them in four fast steps, and throws his arms around the witcher’s neck, pulling him into a desperate, painfully-hard embrace, clinging onto his shoulders with shaking fingers.

Geralt doesn’t care if he’s breathing anymore.

He pulls Jaskier closer, wrapping his arms around his back, and holds him so tight that he’s scared there are going to be bruises. He buries his nose into the bard’s soft hair, breathing him in, and presses a long, desperate kiss to his temple, hot tears stinging his eyes.

“I’m so sorry--” he whispers, never letting go. “I’m so sorry, Jask.”

Jaskier shakes his head, tightening his grip even more, and Geralt can feel the salty scent of his tears. He doesn’t let go, just slips one of his hands into Jaskier’s hair, running his fingers through the strands in soft, comforting caresses.

“All that I’ve said about Toussaint and not coming back to Redania was a lie,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to see Jaskier’s face.

He tries to hide, eyes wet and reddened with tears, but Geralt tips his chin up, gently wiping the wet lines from his cheeks. He desperately wants to kiss him, cover Jaskier’s parted lips with his own, but he knows that he cannot. Now is not the time.

“I never wanted to leave,” he says, brushing Jaskier’s chestnut hair out of his face. “But I was getting so confused, so overwhelmed by what I wanted and what I thought was right, that I felt like I’d make too many mistakes if I stayed.”

Jaskier sniffles, but his eyes remain crystal-clear, filled with that very same hurt, never letting Geralt forget about that knife in his chest.

“And what mistakes would those have been?” Jaskier asks, taking a step away from the witcher.

Geralt doesn’t let him go.

“I always hurt everyone that gets too close,” he says after a moment, avoiding Jaskier’s eyes. “I never mean to do it, and yet it keeps happening, no matter how hard I try to avoid it. It’s like Destiny itself takes people away from me. So eventually, I just learned to push everyone away before I hurt them. But with you… I thought I was choosing the lesser evil, Jask. Thought I was protecting you.”

Jaskier lets himself be guided back into Geralt’s arms and rests his head on the witcher’s shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“We both know that’s not the only reason,” he says quietly.

Somehow, he sees right through Geralt, and had it been anyone else, Geralt would’ve hated it, but it’s Jaskier. He’s already got his heart, what could Geralt possibly hide from him now?

“It scared me,” he admits, crumbling into pieces when Jaskier slowly brings both his arms up to wrap them around his shoulders again. “Everything that was happening between us, I didn’t know what to do with myself. No one has ever looked at me the way you do.”

Jaskier pulls back just enough to meet his eyes, and this time Geralt holds himself back from looking away. Something in his face changes, softens.

“No one?” he echoes.

Geralt shakes his head and leans into the touch when Jaskier cups the sharp of his jaw with his hand, gently brushing his thumb over Geralt’s cheek.

“There aren’t many people that see witcher for something more than what the mutations make us.”

“Oh, darling--” Jaskier breathes, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Geralt’s face and letting his fingers linger on his skin.

Geralt covers his hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the bard’s palm.

“That doesn’t justify me,” he says, and his heart is beating so fast that it almost hurts. “I should never have left like that, should never have lied to you just because I thought we’d both be better off that way.”

Jaskier parts his lips to say something, but Geralt doesn’t let him. If he’d already started, he needs to say everything before he runs out of courage to do it.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to come back, both because I thought that I’d never be able to make all of this work, and because I was sure that you won’t want me anymore after I hurt you the way I did,” he says. “I wanted to, I desperately fucking wanted to, but I was sure that you’d turn me away right at the gates. It was my brother that had convinced me to give it one more try. To at least apologise.”

All the remaining ice in Jaskier’s eyes cracks and melts away, bringing back the cornflower-blue that Geralt had grown to love so much.

“You hurt me,” Jaskier nods, never taking his hand away from Geralt’s. “But I still want you here. It’s been more than two months, and every day I was hoping that you’ll come back. I always knew that those words about Toussaint were a lie.”

Without looking, he finds Geralt’s other hand and brings it up to his chest, pressing his palm to it. His heart is beating hard and fast, like a bird trapped in a cage.

“You broke my heart, Geralt,” he says, and the knife in the witcher’s chest twists. “And it’s going to take time for it to heal. But I want you here with me.”

That is everything Geralt could ever ask for. A chance to fix what he’d broken, to find a way to make this all work. It’s going to take time, he knows, but that is something that he can give them both. Winters in this part of Redania are long and cold, and it’s not long now until the first snow starts falling. And if Jaskier allows him, he will stay with him through all those months.

“Let’s go inside,” Jaskier says after a few moments. “It’s getting cold.”

Geralt nods and hums something affirmative, but doesn’t let go, still holding Jaskier in his arms. He’s not sure when he’ll be able to let go, either, because after all those weeks spent apart, he feels like he needs Jaskier’s warmth more than anything else.

Jaskier sighs, but Geralt can hear his smile behind it.

They stay like that for a long while more after that, and none of them care to count how long exactly.

***

Despite the lingering thrum of guilt in his veins, it feels nice to be back in the mansion.

After Geralt settles back into his room - it’s strange just how familiar it feels now - and gets out of his armour, he finds Jaskier in the library, warming up by the fireplace. Asra and Lucio are sleeping next to him, pressed to his sides like two blankets of white fur.

There’s nothing that Geralt wants more than to wrap his arms around Jaskier again, hold him like that until he falls asleep, and then through the entire night, but he can feel the distance between them. It’s not just time that Jaskier needs to heal. It’s also space.

So Geralt chooses one of the chairs, instead, unable to take his eyes off the bard while he’s not looking.

It’s not uncomfortable, this silence between them, but it will take time for things to go back to the way they were. And for now, Geralt is just happy that he’s here, that the knife he’d carried around in his chest for the last ten weeks had finally been pulled out, and the wound can start to close.

When Jaskier turns to him, his eyes are tired but bright.

“It was lonely without you,” he smiles, and Geralt realises with a new intensity just how far gone he is for him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Geralt wants to say that he’d missed him, too, but he’s so not used to expressing his feelings like that, that he can’t bring himself to. The words are right there, on the tip of his tongue, but it’s just too hard to actually say them.

There is, however, something that he needs to ask.

“If you knew that I was lying, why haven't you stopped me?”

Jaskier looks at him for one endlessly long moment, like he’s searching for something in his eyes, and then sighs, casting his gaze downwards. He plucks at the edge of the blanket thrown over his knees in hesitation before finally meeting Geralt’s eyes again.

“Because that would’ve been the single most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life,” he says, and the pain in his eyes knocks all air out of Geralt’s lungs.

“What are you--”

“I’m cursed, Geralt.”

The words hang in the air heavily as Geralt’s mind goes into overdrive.

It can’t be true. He would’ve felt magic, his medallion would’ve reacted to it. Unless it’s a complicated, masterful curse that doesn’t depend on something fueling it. But those are so hard to come by that Geralt usually doesn’t even consider them a possibility.

He doesn’t know how long the silence lasts before he finally echoes:

“Cursed?”

Jaskier still avoids looking him in the eye, his fingers running through the soft fur on Lucio’s neck absentmindedly. Geralt doesn’t press it, just holds out his hand for Jaskier to take it if he wants. The bard gives him a little smile that doesn’t reach his eyes but doesn’t move. Geralt tries not to think about the stab of pain he feels in his chest at that.

“I suppose I knew that I’d have to tell you someday,” Jaskier sighs, brushing his hair out of his face and turning to look into the fire. “Just not this soon.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No, Geralt,” Jaskier says, cutting him off with powerless frustration in his voice. “No, if you’re going to stay, if we’re going to do this, you need to know. You deserve to know.”

Geralt wants to say that Jaskier shouldn’t upset himself further, that it’s been an emotional day as it is, but then he recalls Eskel’s words about letting him decide for himself and stays quiet.

After a little while, Jaskier takes in a deep breath and turns to face him again.

“I graduated from the Oxenfurt Academy when I was eighteen. And I had all these plans for my future, all these great visions of elegance and sophistication, of being surrounded by art and riches,” he makes a wide gesture with his arm, indicating to the room around them. “Of all of this. This is what I've been promised and it was what I did all of that for, really. I’ve always loved the idea of living like this.”

Geralt bites his tongue and doesn’t ask him about his family. He’s not ready to learn if he’s actually a prince. Though even if he’s not, Geralt feels like in his mind, he’ll always be one.

“And so when I finally graduated - with honours, may I add - that was all that I really wanted. I couldn’t wait to get a proper taste of all that,” Jaskier goes on, chuckling humorlessly. “But there was this one girl in the Academy that fell in love with me during the last year - Estie. We weren’t even on the same course but twice a week, we had history and geography classes together. I’ve always been kind to her, I suppose, but I wasn’t interested in romance. Had my fun here and there, tried new things, but all of that was mostly limited to a night or two.”

He’s still not really looking at Geralt but the witcher never takes his eyes off him.

“I tried my best not to hurt her when saying that I’m not interested in a relationship, and explained that for a couple of years I wanted to taste the court life, and she seemed to take it pretty well until a few days later someone caught in an alleyway by the docks in Oxenfurt and pushed me through a portal.”

“Nothing I hate more than fucking portals,” Geralt murmurs, hoping to make the bard smile just a little, and thankfully, he does.

“Absolutely horrible, yes,” Jaskier laughs, and Geralt feels like that sound alone could heal all his wounds. “Luckily, I’ve only had to experience it once. But that was what led me here, to this mansion. Estie was nowhere to be seen but there was a mage that had opened the portal and was waiting for me. I had more questions than I could even put into words but I wasn’t really the one doing the talking back then.”

Geralt can feel the change in his scent, a sharp edge of heartache to it, and he has to grip the armrests of the chair tighter not to reach out for him.

Asra and Lucio seem to feel it, too, waking up from their sleep and raising their heads to poke their wet noses at Jaskier’s cheeks and lick him, making the bard laugh over the lump in his throat and bat them away.

“She told me that if I wanted art and riches, I could have them,” he says, shrugging sharply with one shoulder. “All I needed was to snap my fingers, move my wrist, really. I didn’t believe her, of course, but I still tried, just to prove her wrong.”

Jaskier darts a quick glance at Geralt and moves his wrist with effortless grace. Geralt’s medallion hums against his chest, and a second later, there is an open book in Jaskier’s hand, magic still coming off it in waves.

Geralt blinks at him, parting his lips to say something - anything - but failing to form his thoughts into words. How could he have missed it?

“As you can guess, it was me that had been proven wrong then. And my fingers were still numb with magic when the mage told me that now that I can create all the art and riches that I want by just thinking about them, I have time to think about “what truly matters”. She said that I can change this mansion in any way I can think of, making it bigger or smaller, changing the walls, the rooms, the gardens, and I can fill it with all the wealth of Redania but until I have something that will truly make me happy, I will step outside the gates.”

Jaskier flips through the book in his hand, and though he keeps his eyes on the pages, Geralt can still see the way they glisten with tears.

“I didn’t believe that, either, of course,” Jaskier laughs nervously. “As soon as she disappeared in a portal, I was out the door. But once I pushed open the gates and took one step beyond them, I couldn’t move. It’s like there is a wall that no one can see but that’s impossible to get through.”

Geralt doesn’t need to be a witcher to feel his distress. It’s not just in his scent, it’s in his shoulders, in his uneven breathing, in the wet lines on his cheeks. The air itself seems to hum with tension, and as Jaskier sniffles, wiping at his cheek stubbornly, Geralt can hear something glass shatter in the hallway.

If he controls the entire estate with his magic, it’s going to be sensitive to his emotions.

But magic that strong… Geralt had only seen it a few times in his life.

“Jask--” he calls softly, getting up from his armchair because he cannot bear the distance between them.

He doesn’t know what he can say. There are so many thoughts racing through his mind that it feels impossible to stop on any single one. He comes closer, getting down onto the floor beside Jaskier and, to his surprise and immeasurable relief, the bard presses himself to his chest in search of comfort.

Geralt wraps his arms around him, pulls him closer, slowly rocking from side to side, and presses a kiss to the top of Jaskier’s head, closing his eyes.

“It took me quite some time to figure out that it was Estie that paid the mage to do all this,” Jaskier says after a while spent in silence. “No one else had much reason to go this far and pay such money, because I doubt that getting a mage to cast such an elaborate curse is cheap. And she was the only one that knew those exact words - art and riches. It couldn’t have been anyone but her.”

Geralt can feel his hands tighten into fists where they’re wrapped around Jaskier. He’d always fucking hated people that can’t get over being rejected and turn to someone more powerful for revenge, be it simple street thugs or mages.

“How long has it been?” he asks carefully.

Jaskier chuckles nervously, and Geralt holds him even closer, like he’s trying to protect him.

“Seven years.”

Seven years. The words feel like a slap to the face, and their echo rings in Geralt’s ears.

Seven years. That’s more than a quarter of Jaskier’s life.

“I’ve tried everything you can think of,” Jaskier says before Geralt has the chance to respond. “Created and then destroyed just about every single thing that my imagination could come up with. And nothing has ever worked. You saw the mark on my back. That’s the seal of the curse.”

The mark on his back.

Geralt thought about it a few times after he saw it but he never thought of as much as a possibility of it being what Jaskier says it is. He’d seen curses marked with seals before but they mostly looked like scars, burned deep into the skin, and not delicate designs that look more like an adornment than anything else.

Without thinking, Geralt runs his hand over Jaskier’s back, and his fingers tingle with magic when he passes over the mark between Jaskier’s shoulder blades.

The bard shivers in his arms.

“Don’t do that,” he breathes, but presses himself closer to the witcher. “It’s sensitive.”

Oh, Geralt could do a lot of things with that information. But not now.

He obediently takes his hand away, resting in on the small of Jaskier’s back, instead, and just holds him, waiting patiently until the bard finally gives in and lets his stubborn resistance down, hiding his face in the curve of Geralt’s shoulder and letting his tears flow down his cheeks. They smell of salt and heartache, and Geralt’s heart rips apart in his chest, but he doesn’t make any move to let go, giving Jaskier the time and the safety he needs.

“The mark will disappear when the curse is broken,” he says, sniffling and clinging onto Geralt’s shoulders, his entire body leaning into the touch. “Only then will I be able to step outside the gates. But as long as I have it on me, I’m trapped here. And that is why asking you to stay would’ve been the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life. I don’t want to tie you to this place, as well.”

Geralt's chest gets painfully tight, and his heart is beating so hard that he feels like it’s going to break through his ribs.

He was so fucking wrong about everything.

“I’m sorry I left you here alone,” he whispers, turning his head to press a kiss to Jaskier’s temple and fighting back tears of his own. “I should’ve been more thoughtful.”

Jaskier shakes his head, slowly calming down.

“You didn’t know.”

There isn’t much more than Geralt could say. His mind is still racing, same as his heart, and where Jaskier’s chest is pressed to his own, he can feel the bard’s heartbeat, too - hard and fast.

Geralt holds him, giving them both time that they need to think it all over, and murmurs comforting little things into Jaskier’s ear every time that he sniffles or sobs, soaking the fabric of Geralt’s worn black shirt with his tears.

He lets him cry, wishing only that he could take all that pain from him, and he doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours that pass before Jaskier’s tears finally start to dry, and his breathing evens out, safe for quiet little sniffles.

He doesn’t care how long it’s been.

His body goes numb from being in one position for too long, but none of that matters.

Slowly, he pulls back just enough to get a look at Jaskier. Even with his eyes red and swollen with tears, he’s the most beautiful man Geralt’s even seen.

“We will find a way to break it,” Geralt says, voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

He cups Jaskier’s face with both hands, gently wiping away the tears, and leans in to touch his lips to his forehead in a soft, chaste kiss.

“Do you believe me?”

He breaks away to look at Jaskier again, and this time, the bard holds his gaze. His impossibly-blue eyes search for something in Geralt’s for a long, silent moment, until finally, he sighs without his breath hitching and nods.

“Yeah,” he says, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Geralt’s. “I do.”

[kuriquinn]

Hey Kuri. I just need a little life advice. How did you find your call in Teaching? I'm kinda struggling right now trying to find what I want to do with my life. Im going back to college soon but the subject I'm studying isn't what I'm interested in. I've tried to love it but its been difficult. I often times feel like a disappointment to my family because my siblings are all doing great and I feel like a loser not getting there yet.

Strap in, there, Anon, this’ll be a long one…

If I’m being honest, my call isn’t teaching - it’s writing. Even now, though I have a Big Girl Job and everything, which pays my bills and keeps my fur babies in food and toys, I consider my writing to be my real job. Even if, at the moment, it’s just writing fanfiction.

The first piece of advice I would give you for anything in your future is to do something you love. That way it will never be a chore and you will stick with it longer than five minutes. 

Now, on the heel of that, the second piece of advice is: if you can’t pursue your passion, pursue something you don’t hate. And it might take you a while to figure out what that is. 

I graduated high school with pretty decent grades, went to a good college and did well there (Liberal Arts), and I applied to university hoping to major in Creative Writing and Minor in German Language. My outside logic was: it would help me get into a writing field like journalism or translation. Inwardly, I figured I was just taking university courses while I was busy writing my novel and that before graduating I would be published and famous and rich.

Yeah, eighteen-year-old me was a bit of a naive idiot. 

Cue life-experience:

My parents were kind of wary about the whole thing, they didn’t really believe I was doing a good thing, but it was my choice and they had to respect it. They knew what I didn’t, but would learn for myself. At the time I was also working in a bookstore, which while not my passion or anything, I actually enjoyed. Work never felt like work, and for minimum wage, that’s a good thing.

Flash forward to my first semester of university, in which I learned that a) my German skills were beyond what I could be taught at uni and I wouldn’t be able to take half of the courses I needed to fill my minor, so it was basically a waste of time to take and b) my Creative Writing classes basically centered around having a published author (and I use this term loosely to define a person who self-published one grungy, literary shock fiction and passed it off as literature) get up and talk about how to write. And not write actual good stories with decent plots and characters and such, but the gritty, sensory, detailed lyrical crap…and if you didn’t try to write exactly like that person, they flunked you.

So trying to follow my first passion didn’t exactly pan out. 

I ended up switching my degree completely, majoring in Classical Civilisation and minoring in History. I figured, I love history, and I love research, maybe a degree in this could help me get a job in museum studies or as a researcher or something. The next two years passed quite nicely…and though my part-time bookstore job fell through because of crappy managers, I started to tutor a lot more (and my brother was in his last years of high school at this point, and needed my help getting through his classes) and I realised that I was actually pretty good at breaking down information and explaining it in different ways. Plus, I already had a lot of experience with learning difficulties due to my brother.

So, one year before I graduated, I get the bright idea to become a teacher. I had enough credits to switch majors, but the problem was, my university only offered Early Childhood Education…and while I dearly love little kids, more than five or six of them below the age of ten would probably drive me insane. I figured teenagers would be more mature.

(*pause* *waits for riotous laughter from Those Who Know Better*)

Anyhow, I had to apply to a whole new university program just to get into a high school teaching program. And that was the most miserable two years of my life, because teacher education is the most useless piece of trash degree you can take. You know when you learn? When they stick you in a school as a student teacher. I didn’t learn one thing from my second university degree except that sometimes the only way to move on to the next stage of your life is to sit through the boring shit and get a stupid piece of paper saying you sat through the boring shit.

And THEN…

I didn’t even get a job for another two years. 

The thing people don’t tell you about university is that when you get out, there is almost no one hiring. The Baby Boomer generation is not retiring any time soon, the job market is flooded with so many newcomers that competition is fierce, and on top of that, your chances are reduces based on what field you go into. Science, Engineering, Computers, Medicine, Business and Law? Competition will be fierce, but you will definitely have a job at the end of your degree. Anything else? Unless you somehow become famous, every other job out there has a crappy percntage of hiring, and chances are you are going to have to get an average Joe job for a year or two before you actually get hired to do what you studied.

Me, I had one learning experience where I moved to England because there’s a huge demand for teachers (and learned why there’s a huge demand is because the school system there is complete shite), and then spent a year unemployed and basically acting as an unpaid domestic/caregiver because my mother was sick (I lived at home, though, so that’s why it worked out). I still tutored when I could, but I didn’t have as many clients as I had hoped for. Things were so bad at this point and I was so depressed I couldn’t even write…

I did finally get hired, but the way I did won’t make you feel better. I basically sent my resume to one of the schools where I did my field experience, telling them I was available for tutoring in the upcoming year. I got a call back (on my birthday) to see if I was interested in taking on an actual teaching job - they remembered me from my internship and remembered my brother (who once was a student there).

So I basically got the job because I knew someone.

And that’s the reality of it. You will not get a job (in certain fields, at least) unless you know someone. Networking and good interview skills are so important to getting hired these days, and your ability to be social (or fake being social) is key. 

Even now, I’m not exactly secure in my job. As a teacher in the private sector, I don’t even have a contract. I literally spend every August sitting by the phone biting my nails hoping that they’re going to call me back for the year.

But it’s a foot in the door. You always have to think about it that way.

Contrast this to my brother - he finished high school, took a trade (auto mechanics), and had a job within a year. He now makes and will continue to make more in a year than what I will in two. He had his forever job at 19; I didn’t find mine until I was 27.

Now, if you’re still with me and I didn’t bore you with my life’s story, here’s the take away:

1. Pursue your passion. If you can make a living from it, you’re one of the lucky few. Keep doing you, and don’t let anyone tell you differently. Friends, family or loved ones, it doesn’t matter what they think.

2. If you can’t pursue your passion (full time, at least), do something that you don’t hate. Something that you are good at, a job where you can show up to and do your work happily and then go home at the end of the day and not stress about. Again, if anyone is telling you to do something you hate, DON’T. In five years, you’ll be burnt out, stressed and miserable. It is so not worth it. And if this is an Average Joe Job like working in a bookstore? Fine. Do that. It gives you more time to pursue your actual passions, and looks good on a resume.

3. Get a trade. Seriously, if you put off university for a year to get a trade, like real estate or mechanics or electrician or something, you not only give yourself the ability to be hired sooner, you can also support yourself throughout your academic career - and for those of you facing a future of student loans, this is so important!

4. If you pursue higher education, be prepared to change your mind A LOT before you graduate. You might find your are more interested or better at a certain subject that you thought, or a complete loss. There is nothing wrong with changing your major or minor until you find the right fit, just make sure you get all your General Education courses out of the way first so that you have that leeway.

5. After graduating, unless you’re in certain career fields, be prepared not to have a job right away. Get an Average Joe Job to keep you going, keep sending out CVs and going to interviews, and just hang in there - you will eventually get there, even if it takes you a little longer than your friends. And network! Make sure you keep in contact with people who might be able to help you in your career.

6. If you have the money and means, travel. Because chances are you won’t have the chance to do it once you join the rat-race.

7. MOST IMPORTANT: Do not let stress take over your life. You MUST find a way to balance your life while you worry about school/career stuff. Go out with your friends, travel when you can (even if it’s just a day trip to a museum!), write or paint or play music or build models or code or binge watch your tv show of choice, or whatever it is you do for fun - make sure you do it every day. Because your brain needs a way to unwind from the not so pleasant adulty stuff.

Anyhow, that’s the advice Twenty-Nine-Year-Old-Present-Me would give Nineteen-Year-Old-Me on the eve of starting university. I don’t know if she’d listen to all of it, but I wish someone had told me all that. Especially the parts about not getting a job right away. I thought I was a humongous failure because I couldn’t find work, when the reality was, I was just one of thousands of people seeking employment in an uncertain economic environment. 

So, on that note, I hope that you managed to find some comfort or guidance in these words. Remember, you are not a disappointment and everyone moves at their own pace. Maybe you’re having a slow year and your siblings aren’t. Maybe next year you’ll be the one who has exciting new opportunities and they are stuck in a rut. Our lives are very static and you never know what’s coming around the next bend. Just keep on keeping on.

And personally? If I was struggling to love my college program? I would take a very good look at whether it was really for me.

Thanks for the ask :)

[thevictoryofthepeople]

CAN A WEED BECOME A ROSE | THE BLACK HEART DRABBLE #2 - SEO YESUL

· · · · · The nightlife of Seoul buzzes around the young woman. The lights blind, blurring vision and melding bodies and scenes together into one. That and it might be the alcohol weaving through her bloodstream, dancing along to the multiple drugs that have replaced the blood cells meant to take care of her. The dreaded, yet enticing, liquid that only serves to confuse and mix things into incomprehensible art works meant only for a mind so completely gone and out of it that no questions can ever be asked. She stumbles around, intoxicated, riding on top of frazzled cloud frying nerves and any semblance of common sense. Just like normal...her life really turned into this...

· · · · · An idol...meant to have an image of perfection and purity, and yet she walks around like a mad man finally released from suffocating chains. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Her group is failing. The last straw in a pot of boiling misfortunes that have been spilling for some months now. It doesn’t matter, she doesn’t care. Nothing is worth it anymore. Hell, if someone were to kidnap her or slice her apart, she’d gladly take the opportunity. She’s an easy target and she likes it that way. Because at this point...well...there’s nothing to live for. 

· · · · · There’s a whistle somewhere nearby and instinctual hand raises the finger. Of course, they won’t try to do anything. Not in the bustling mass of bodies moving here and there, enjoying their own lives while hers continues to crash down like it’s a simple way of life. No, if she wants to lose it all, she’ll go somewhere more secluded. Where the shadows of the night grow and capture everything in its inky hands. Where if she screams, the darkness will swallow it up before it can leave her lips. 

· · · · · Yes, that’s the most appropriate way to get rid of this pain. 

· · · · · She continues to walk, just not caring. 

· · · · · Then, an arm grabs her. But it is not frightful, no cause for concern at least in messed up mind that has simply given up. 

· · · · · “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” voice harshly whispers in her ear. 

· · · · · She giggles, sound high-pitched, insanity threaded in the intonation. “Fuck off.” 

· · · · · Hyunsoo sighs and moves to block her path. “You’re going to fucking get yourself killed because of your fucking stupidity.” 

· · · · · “Oh so you finally fucking care about me?” she screeches. “Why don’t you just fucking leave me alone and fuck some damn trainee because that’s what you do best, right?” His grip tightens. “Besides, asshole, you’re hurting me. Abusive piece of shit.” She wrenches her arm away, continuing to walk off. 

· · · · · “Shut the hell up, Snow. I’m trying to look out for you. You really want the chance to be put in danger?” 

· · · · · “Why does it matter? Why do you fucking care?” Hand raises and slaps him across the face, the sound loud and imprint of her hand etches into his skin. There is no remorse in her gaze, and if there is, it is lost beneath the layers of anger and anguish drowned by masochistic drug commercially sold as a fun, little time. 

· · · · · The other doesn’t move for a moment but he suddenly pushes her against the wall. Head snaps back from the force - is that blood? Tongue tastes metallic flavor of viscous, crimson liquid. Dammit, she must have bitten her tongue. She snorts. “What are you gonna do? Fucking hurt me? Do it. Or are you a coward?” 

· · · · · Hyunsoo glares. A tick then he slowly lets go. She giggles. “Aw you are a coward.”

· · · · · “Shut up.” He picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She squeals, fists and legs hitting and kicking him. He grunts but doesn’t let go as he begins to walk. 

· · · · · “Let me go!”

· · · · · “How about I just keep you here?”

· · · · · “Why do you even care?” She bites his shoulder

· · · · · “Fuck!” He pinches her thigh, earning a whine. “Can you just stop? I’m trying to help you.”

· · · · · “You’re trying to help me? Ha, are you on crack or something? Jesus fucking Christ, Hyun just leave me alone. So what if I get hurt? Wouldn’t that be better for you? We’re not even fucking friends.” 

· · · · · He sighs but bites his tongue down. Once he reaches his car, he throws her in before getting into the driver’s side. Sprawled and groaning, she adjusts herself, pulling down skirt and straightening her top. She tries to get out but Hyunsoo continues to lock it each time she tries. 

· · · · · “Fuck!” she screams, slamming her hands on the dashboard. “Let me out!” 

· · · · · “No!” he bellows. But it doesn’t make her shrink back. Instead it only serves to infuriate her further. 

· · · · · “You’re such an asshole.” 

· · · · · “And you’re not any better.”

· · · · · “I don’t get why you care so much. We’re over, remember? We broke up a week ago. I don’t get why you keep coming back. You’re free to do whatever you want now. We can finally end everything.” 

· · · · · “And how the hell am I supposed to explain anything if you go off and die? They’re going to piece things together and make me out to be a murderer. I’m doing this for my self preservation.”

· · · · · “Ha! I’m glad you know you’re a fucking monster, at least.”

· · · · · “Fuck off. Shit I really should have just let you off to die.”

· · · · · “And so the truth comes out.”

· · · · · The older man shakes his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

· · · · · She doesn’t answer for a moment but soon she’s laughing uncontrollably. It’s to the point where she must clutch her side and breathe in and out deeply and rhythmically just to prevent hyperventilation. “What’s wrong with me?” she guffaws. “What’s wrong with you? Huh? Where’s the asshole? Just push me out of the car and drive off. It’ll be better for the both of us.”

· · · · · “You’re dumb.”

· · · · · “So are you. What kind of fucking idiot comes back to save his toxic ex-girlfriend? Didn’t you say when we broke up that you wish I would just fucking jump off a cliff?”

· · · · · “You’re dramatic.”

· · · · · “I’m dramatic?! Are you serious?!” 

· · · · · “Jade told me to watch you!” he snaps. 

· · · · · And finally...silence. She leans back, hand covering her eyes. No, she hadn’t wanted to hear name. No…

· · · · · “And I still care…”

· · · · · “Stop...please stop…don’t say that. We do this again and again. Please.” Weak - she is weak. Everything is fragile. The most delicate of rose petals so close to death and ready to crumble. Or maybe she is a simple weed. A creeping nuisance deserving to be ripped away. She certainly is no rose, not even one with thorns still intact. She is nothing more than…

· · · · · “We only broke up a week ago.”

· · · · · “No, we’ve broken up many times before last week and I can’t do it anymore. It’s a cycle and it keeps fucking hurting. All the time. We fight, we get jealous over everyone, we cheat on each other like it’s just some game, we hurt each other, and then I find myself back with you. And it’s wrong. It’s all wrong.”

· · · · · “Snow, you know I’m the only good one for you.”

· · · · · “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Hands slam against the dashboard repeatedly until palms are raw and red. 

· · · · · Everything...everything...it’s all wilting, crumbling… breaking… fading...

· · · · · “Just take me home.”

· · · · · Home… what even is that… she has nothing… nothing. 

· · · · · They drive off. Unbeknownst to her, she is shivering. The journey seems to have taken forever before he finally stops. She peers up. 

· · · · · She hates this place…

· · · · · “Do you need help?”

· · · · · “Fuck off,” she murmurs, stumbling out. She slams the door and heads in. The silence is heavy, reminding her again of how lonely she is. If she were to disappear who would care?

· · · · · With pounding headache, she makes her way up. But at the landing, she turns away from her room. She makes her way to her office - her mother’s old office - bracing herself against the wall. Plopping down on the chair, she spins around, glancing at old memorabilia belong to Seo Yerin - to the true rose. 

· · · · · She picks up one of her mother’s journal. Turning to a random page, she traces the letters. She has no trouble imagining her mother’s hand and each stroke of the pen creating such beautiful writing. 

· · · · · Nothing but a disappointment to you mom… I’m so sorry...

· · · · · And at that moment, tidal wave breaks free from the dam. The buildup of failures, of losses, of never ending descent into madness...it has led up to this point. 

· · · · · She’s so tired. A weed… when will somehow pull her out?

· · · · · But as she continues to weep, she notices note sticking out from the back of the book. Hiccupping, she straightens. Hand rubs at eyes before she finally plucks the note out. 

· · · · · Chicken scratch. And poorly written Korean and English - a third grader could have written it better. But she’s able to remember who it’s from and the thought of the young man working in the vape shop is somewhat comforting. 

· · · · · No, she can’t disappear yet. She has to give it one more chance. Peering at the note, she notices the number. 

· · · · · She grabs her phone. Several rings… “Hey, is this Ghost?”

[assholemurphy]

so, i actually laid down for abt 3 hours instead of doing my itt final. oops. i didn’t even sleep, i just laid there. i mean, i tried, but i couldn’t. so, i’m gonna be out of adderall and my last pill will have worn off probs around the time i get home from shop, so, that’s gonna suck. writing two papers, a script, and reading a play with no adderall is gonna be a bitch. i’ve got my xr, maybe (still haven’t looked to see if i kept it or not, probs not), and that may help, but i’m p much fucking screwed on this one. what should take 4 hours (6 with breaks) is gonna end up taking like, 10, probably. unfortunate.

i’m gonna finish my trunk this afternoon and deal with that. it’ll take abt an hour or so. maybe one and a half. then i’ll be finished with it completely. i dunno if i’ll take it home on fri or wait til after break, it just depends. i wanna bring it home asap so i can use it when i organize my apartment, but it probs won’t be easy to carry bc while it has a handle, it’s significantly heavier than it was before, and i dunno if i’ll be able to find somebody who can help me transport it. but i can try.

one good piece of news from the shitfest that has been this past week: due to the loans i’m getting ($2k more this semester and $2k+ next semester) i’ll be able to cover the other half of the rent on my apartment (my mother will continue paying for half like she has been bc i’m jobless and don’t have the time to get one bc i get 15 hours of concentration per day and i’ve already got classes, rehearsal (if i get a part in the crucible next semester, but i will have to direct a play and design lights for a play later in the semester), shop hours (only 2 per week, but i try to stay the full afternoon, so 4 hours, unless we need a lot of help in the shop, then i’ll be there more, which will probs happen next semester), and a fuckton of homework (i’m currently enrolled in 5 classes for next semester, tho i may add a 6th if it’s offered, i need to check like, right now). i rly do not have time for a job and it’s rly hard to find one that would work with my schedule if i did bc my days are scheduled weirdly. i rly want a job, but like, finding one/actually being able to work is difficult) so i don’t actually need a roommate until fall (when my brother should be going to college) but even then, i could just keep paying it with more loans. not good in the long term, but i’ll deal with that when i graduate. so, i’m rly happy abt that. i’m gonna stick a futon in the extra room for friends, but it’ll mainly be used for art/crafting purposes. that’ll be nice. i’ll also get to decorate how i want and not in a way that ‘looks cute’ bc ewww. i just want punk shit all over the walls and an unholy amount of organizational items, is that so wrong? i also won’t have to worry about listening to the big bang theory theme play for 6 hours straight every night. and i can do hw whenever and not worry abt being interrupted. and i can cook my own meals and organize the kitchen properly (instead of the catastrophe my roommate has turned it into. tupperware in the pots cabinet!? baking pans in the pots cabinet!? things we use regularly on rly high shelves!? two fucking junk drawers!? and the dishes are never done, despite that being her chore (which i wouldn’t mind so much if she didn’t constantly nag me abt cleaning, ya know?)). it’ll be great. i’ll be able to do whatever the hell i want whenever the hell i want. i can watch whatever i want on tv. i can play video games for 6 hours straight (okay, no, i can’t, i don’t have time, but if i did). i’ll be able to have ppl over any time without worrying abt her freaking out. there’ll be space in the fridge and i can properly organize the pantry. god, i can’t wait. gonna be fucking awesome.

i do have to get ready for class now, tho, bc i’ve got to do my hair/makeup and make sure i look nice. then i’ve got to head to campus to print things and fill out forms. then my final. then the trunk. then i’m taking a goddamn nap. then i will worry abt my itt final project when i wake up. i should be up around 7p (bc i should be done in the shop by 2) so i can work on my final until 3-ish, so i should be finished by then, hopefully. i’ll sleep til 9:30a, get ready for my drs appt, turn in my final, see the dr (or see the dr then turn in the final, either way), and come home to pack for break. i would stay and organize things first, but i’m sick af and idk when i’ll be having surgery, so i’m not sure it’s a good idea to stay. i might still, tho, just until i’ve got everything organized (which might take abt 5 days). not too sure, yet. depends on when/if i can get my surgery scheduled. everything revolves around that rn. but i will have my apartment organized before next semester starts. i cannot live with my room this messy anymore, it’s driving me insane. i fucking hate disorganization and messes with a passion. like, i don’t mind clutter, rly, if it’s bc i’m working on something, but otherwise, it’s a big nope.

so, i’m off to get ready for class (after i check to see if the photography course is offered in the spring, might not be bc ik it’s offered in the fall) and take my final. i’m nervous af but i’m gonna do my best to kick ass.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WORK ETHIC AND TODAY

Don't talk and drive. The immediate cause of death in a startup, it's easier for competitors too.1 Some, slightly, but if feeling you're going to spend years working on something or b be teleported to Rome and spend the next hour wandering about, was there any sort of work I'd prefer?2 If VCs are frightened at the idea of letting founders partially cash out, let me tell you a little about Jessica. If you start from successful startups, you find they'd often make good startups. For hardware startups there's a variant of ad hominem—and a particularly useless sort, because good ideas often come from outsiders. The low cost of starting a startup means the particles they're attracting are getting lighter. But if they don't want the hassles that come with it.3

The most common was some combination of a blog, a calendar, a dating site, and Friendster. There should start to be someone who gets in trouble for using it. The economic situation is apparently so grim that some experts fear we may be in for a stretch as bad as being a bad use of time, if your business model, at least now, the reason startups do better when they turn down acquisition offers usually end up doing better. If you're upwind, you decide when and if to engage the viewer. Make something people want. So a plan that promises freedom at the expense of knowing what to do. Within Y Combinator, because we often have to work on, or don't like to get money to work on a project, because initially the most important may be that once you have users to take care of, you're forced to figure out how to describe your startup in one compelling phrase. Back when it cost a lot to start a startup. Though the nature of obsession should be insanely well designed and manufactured. This limitation went away with the arrival of block-structured languages, but by then it was too late.4 Both publishers and investors are down on advertising at the moment, when VCs invest in a startup hub.5

If you make money doing one thing and then work on another, you have to resort to focus groups, you'll wish you could go over to your users' homes and offices and watch them use your stuff like you did when there were only a handful of them, and another equally formidable force, the pointy-haired bosses. They don't need that much money, and so on.6 Practically every successful startup, including stars like Google, presented at some point in the 1960s the big publishing houses started to ask: of all the things we could do was Viaweb, which we disliked at first. Getting a book printed and distributed is a daunting prospect for a writer, and writers always get disproportionate attention. And it did not seem to be an inborn trait in humans. And when you see something that's taking advantage of new technology to give people something they want that they couldn't have multiple people editing the same piece of code. They were just trying to survive. If you have impressive resumes, just flash them on the screen.

I reproach myself with.7 But though I can't predict specific winners, I can offer a recipe for making money. So how much shorter are your programs if you write about a topic is a variant of ad hominem—and a particularly useless sort, because good ideas often come from outsiders. It's the sort of problems hackers are used to that sort of thing. If that were true, he would have answered with as little hesitation as he does today. If you're starting your own company, why do you need a degree? For cases like that there's a more drastic solution.8 It's in their interest for content to be as bad for startups as too much time, so we don't give them much money either.9 At Viaweb now Yahoo Store, we raised some eyebrows among VCs and potential acquirers by using Lisp. But there is a substantial gap.

Finding work you love. Sometimes they even agree with one another, but are so caught up in their squabble they don't realize just how fragile startups are, and how easily they can become collateral damage of laws meant to fix some problems with C. If you have to like it. If your program would be three times as long in another language, it will rot your brain. This has traditionally been a problem in venture funding.10 If you start from ideas for nonprofits, you find your unconscious mind has left an answer waiting for you. Is there some test you can use is: always produce. So it's good if you can talk about problems specific users have and how you solve them.11

I think back to the beginning, but the people we were picking would become the YC alumni network. Instead of trying to get good grades to get into elite colleges, and college students think they need to work hard in two dimensions. If feeling you're going to sound a lot smarter talking about that than the business model, at least for part of his life. But if languages are all equivalent, sure, use whatever language everyone else is using. When you write something you wouldn't say, you'll hear the clank as it hits the page. That is a different business.12 And programmers seem to think of them. For hardware startups there's a variant of doing things that don't change much, the unfortunate fact is that change is hard to predict what will; often something that seems interesting at first will bore you after a month. Follow it and it will take three times as long in another language, it will take three times as long in another language, it will help if more people understand that the way programmers behave is driven by the demands of the work they do. But there is another language called Perl that is considered a lot cooler than Java.

The initial user serves as the form for your mold; keep tweaking till you fit their needs perfectly, and you'll usually find you've made something other users want too. Their standards for customer service have been set by the companies they've been customers of, which are Lisp data structures. A hacker who has learned what to make, and not just intellectually, but the way he composed them into molecules was near faultless. It's wrong to call it a trick in his case, though. How much do you lose by using a less powerful language. But we'll figure out some kind of answer. And no doubt that will happen this time too. Get rapidly to demo. But the incentives are more than just financial. A few months ago I ran into a friend in a cafe.

They're already stuck with a seller's market, because of the huge amounts they raised at the end, wow, that's pretty cool.13 Java programmers, so if the two seem equal to you, you probably have to quote them. If they don't have enough information in them. Is there some test you can use is: always produce. In Common Lisp this would be defun foo n lambda i incf n i and my guess is that these multiples aren't even constant.14 It might seem that if startups get cheap to start, this conflict goes away, because founders can start them younger, when it's rational to take more risk, and can start more startups total in their careers. If the best hackers to work for you, as Google has, you have to resort to focus groups, you'll wish you could go to delight your users. Some people thought of it as a personal insult when someone from the other team had possession of the ball on his side of the line of scrimmage. Good writing is an elaborate effort to seem spontaneous. You might think that responsible corporate governance is an area where you can't go too far in any law, and this special power of hers was critical in making YC what it is; and if there isn't, what difference does it make that he's a senator? If you don't genuinely believe that, perhaps you ought to change what your company is probably based in the wrong city for developing software.

Notes

In 1800 an empty plastic drink bottle with a potential acquirer unless you want about who you might be interested in you, they'll have big bags of cumin for the same attachment to their kids to them rather than admitting he preferred to work with an idea where there is some kind of people who did invent things an ordinary one? As the art business? Google will pay the most valuable thing you tend to be a win to do work you love, or was likely to be higher, as in most competitive sports, the manager mostly in Perl. Surely no one on the Daddy Model that it makes sense to exclude outliers from some types of publishers would be just as much what other people the shareholders instead of editors, and the company's expense by selling them overpriced components.

The reason not to: if you seem like noise.

Good investors don't like to fight back themselves. It seems quite likely that European governments of the world wars to say that Watt reinvented the steam engine.

Globally the trend has been rewritten to suit present fashions, I'm just going to create a portal for x. Maybe at first, and this trick works so well. Some of the conversion of buildings not previously public, like arithmetic drills, instead of the biggest successes there is undeniably a grim satisfaction in hunting down certain sorts of bugs, and VCs will offer you an asking price. Corollary: Avoid becoming an alcoholic.

In the original text would in 1950 something one could aspire to the writing teachers were transformed in situ into English professors. I don't know how to achieve wisdom is that they think are bad news; it is to how Henry Ford got started in Mississippi.

What made Google Google is not a complete list of where to see if you seem like noise.

There were several other reasons.

I know of one investor who for some reason insists that you were still employed in your identity. Actually it's better to get fossilized. I find hardest to get good grades.

For most of the web.

While Jessica didn't ask many questions, they were getting results. The original Internet forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups. The founders who take the line that philosophy is worth more to most people haven't noticed yet. Your user model almost couldn't be perfectly accurate, because investors already owned more than linearly with its size.

107. If idea clashes got bad enough, the more accurate metaphor would be much bigger news, in the life of a problem so far.

In the beginning. Possible doesn't mean the hypothetical people who had been trained that anything hung on a form that asks for your pitch to evolve. Cook another 2 or 3 minutes, then used a TV as a result, comparisons of programming languages either take the form of religious wars or undergraduate textbooks so determinedly neutral that they're practically different papers.

The reason for the measures the federal government took during wartime. The nationalistic idea is the new economy during the 2002-03 season was 4. If you're doing is almost always bullshit. But if so, you produce in copious quantities.

If you try to be some part you can base brand on anything with it, but I'm not saying it's impossible without a time, serious writing meant theological discourses, not just for her but for the measures the federal government took during wartime.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Steven Levy, Chad Fowler, Raph Levien, Sarah Harlin, and Robert Morris for sharing their expertise on this topic.

[sapphicsurveys]

Have you ever given a public speech? Fun story -- I got nominated for a Pathfinder award in high school and gave an impromptu speech even though we weren’t supposed to. When was the last time you sat in the back seat of a car? Today. I can’t drive. When was the last time you had a checkup? A few months ago? Have you ever cried in a movie theater? Just a week ago, with Call Me By Your Name...it was absolutely a sensory overload, in a good way... Has a stranger ever stared at you in public? Always. Not in a horny way. In a creeped-out way. Have you ever had anything stolen from you? Not intentionally on their part...as far as I know. Starting in what grade were crayons excluded from your school supply list? High school. Were you heartbroken? No, I’ve always hated colouring (and handwriting) because I have an extremely unsteady hand. When was your last run-in with the police? One of my parents’ driving fuckups.  Are you a good sport or a sore loser? Sore loser. Do you read comic books? No, and never did. Have you ever been so emotional it left people speechless? All the time, the intensity of the things I feel scares people off sometimes. It’s not anger, I’m never angry. It’s like....a bunch of miscellaneous shooting colours and a cool splash of water. That’s how I’d describe my emotions. When was the last time you threw up? Last year. Do you intentionally sing poorly in front of people to avoid a critique? No. I always try. But I always believe I’ve failed afterwards. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? Too often. What did you/what will you do on your 18th birthday? Went to Cafe Tu Tu Tango and started my failed university experience. When was the last time you had a dream with a premonition in it? A few days ago, but I can’t remember what it was. Did it come true? I think it did? I can’t tell since I don’t remember the original dream. Have you ever seriously pretended to be clinically insane? I HAVE been clinically insane. I might still be. Are there any words you cannot spell correctly, no matter how hard you try? No. Do you know anyone with a stutter? Misha from Armenia!! LMAO it was adorable to watch interviews with him. With a lisp? Nope. Do you doodle more on page borders or on entire pages? Borders. Have you ever been in a newspaper? When I was 3, with this creepy-looking Easter Bunny. Have you ever been on TV? Yes, for a fundraiser event I was at. What was the last board game you played? Monopoly. Did you win? That game has no end in sight. When was the last time you tried to speak with an accent? Sometimes I do it for fun to see if people can tell if I’m faking it. What was the accent? An ambiguous one. Have you ever made up a word before? Yes. Did you get anyone else to use it? Don’t think so. Are all 4 of your biological grandparents alive? Only my maternal grandma, and I’d never met any of the other 3. What is/was your GPA? 3.0 in high school, TBA for first semester of college. When was the last time you used a flashlight? During the hurricane. When was the last time you went to a museum? It was either an art museum down here with my grandma or the Gugenheim in NY with my mom. Do you have anything from IKEA in your room? Nope. If you were watching TV now instead of doing this, what would you watch? TLC, they have the funnest, dumbest reality shows. Or truTV for Impractical Jokers. When was the last time you played MASH? Elementary school. *** You live in a capital city. You live in an apartment. You live with a roommate.  You drive your own car. You know how to ride a motorbike. You have a motorbike license. You’ve crashed a car. You’ve crashed a motorbike. You are twenty years old. You have half-siblings. You’ve been cheated on. You don’t want a relationship right now. You’ve broken bones in your face. You’ve had stitches. You don’t wear a lot of colours. You never wear open-toed shoes. You prefer shopping in person so you can try clothes on. You buy most of your clothes online for convenience. One of your favourite vegetables is broccoli. One of your favourite fruits is pear. You’ve volunteered for a concert or festival. You aren’t too good at drawing or painting. You are good at colouring, though. You always seem to have cuts on your hands. You almost always have two jobs. You’ve had a lot of jobs throughout your life. You love superheroes. Daredevil is your favourite Marvel superhero. You think Marvel is better than DC.  You watch a lot of movies and TV shows. You’ve been high on marijuana, but you don’t like it. You feel that drumming is what you were born to do. You live in a place where light pollution prevents you from seeing stars. You had head lice several times when you were a kid. You hated gym class in school, but like being active. You get bored very quickly if you don’t have anything to keep you occupied. You know how to edit and master music tracks. You eat more meatless meals than meat ones. (but I LOVE meat) Dark chocolate is your kryptonite. You collect keychains. You want to earn a Bachelor’s degree.  You often have issues with your back. You find yourself daydreaming about random stuff a lot. You smoke and wish you could quit once and for all. Your smoking habits have pissed off people you love and care about. You have a pet dog. You really value your sleep and can sleep for long periods at a time. You are good at keeping track of things in your own head. You’re proud of your own achievements. You live a comfortable life and you’re happy. *** Have you ever felt like you were being crushed by an invisible weight?: 24/7, although it’s not really invisible, because I know what’s causing it. Have you ever looked back and realized that it’s been ages since you cried?: No, I cry on a weekly basis. Do you ever wish you could go back to kindergarten?: Never. I would never turn back time. Do you have a ‘good side’?: Yes. Would you rather spend your whole life in the light, or in the dark?: In the dark, as long as I could see somehow. Like, in nighttime. Basically I’d rather have all night and no day. Do you have a good luck charm?: My online bestie. Has anyone ever sang to you, just for you?: Yes. What’s the longest phone conversation you’ve ever had?: *puke emoji* Is there anyone that you have trouble saying goodbye to?: Yes. Do your friends like the person you’re dating/crushing on?: I have a crush on everyone in the world. Do you care if your parents approve of the people you date?: It would be awkward if they didn’t, but it’s not a dealbreaker. If asked to pick a number between one and five, what number would you pick?: The previous person’s answer biased me, so I can’t answer this one. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends?: Only iTalki language partners. In your opinion is calling easier than texting?: It’s easier. I hate calling just to talk, but I prefer calling if I need to say or hear something important. I will hang up right after hearing what I need to hear. Name all the people you’ve hugged today: Mom. Is there anything that you want to say right now to someone?: I’ve already said my piece to everyone I can think of. If you married the last person you texted, what would your last name be?: It would be the same, LOL. Please don’t make me marry my parent. *puke emoji [2]* About how many times a day do you use the backspace button?: A million times. Actually, I used it just now. I make a lot of typos because I rush my typing. Are you allergic to any animals?: Cats, a little bit. Do you know anyone who smokes?: Yes, a lot of my mom’s friends. Do you usually spend your weekends out, or at home?: Out to dinner. Do you miss anyone right now?: Yes! How far away is your next birthday?: About 7 months away. Have you ever felt completely lost?: Yes, but then I always found my way back around again. What’s the stupidest question anyone could ever ask you?: There are an endless amount of those. Do you think it’s wrong for people to say 'retard/retarded’ as an insult?: Yes. What swear word do you use most often?: "Fucking” as an adjective, probably. Have you ever had to go to the police department?: Thankfully not. Have you ever lived through a hurricane?: I live in Florida. What do you think? Have you ever wished you could disappear?: Yes. Can you name all the candidates in the previous presidential election?: Yes. Do you eat organic foods?: Sure, but I don’t consciously think about it. Have you ever had a home grown tomato?: No. Have you ever held a real gun?: No. Would you rather wear Converse or Vans?: I don’t care what brand my sneakers are, as long as they fit nicely. Is there a song that reminds you of someone?: Of course. Have you ever been called bipolar?: I actually am bipolar. Bipolar 2. Do you think Facebook can be safe if you’re smart about what you post?: No. I’m addicted to Facebook and it’s destructive for me. But even for people who rarely use it, there are always dangers that someone will doxx you or try to get your account reported. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person?: No. Do you think it’s okay to have sex before marriage?: Obviously. But if you’re straight, you should really use protection as long as you don’t want a baby. What are your views on abortion?: Undecided. Have you ever liked a book that you had to read for school?: The Great Gatsby was outstanding. Do you have any mosquito bites?: Again: I live in Florida. What do you think? Have you pulled an all-nighter in the last week?: No. Are there posters on your walls?: So many. Do you play any video games?: No. Have you ever been called a wimp?: Does anyone actually use that insult? When was the last time you made fun of someone else?: I never make fun of people for things they can’t help. Have you ever been jealous?: 24/7. Do you like to watch old sitcoms?: No. They depress me. Are there actually books on your bookshelf?: A bunch of old ones from when I was a kid. Have you ever tried any kind of diet?: For, like, a week. LOL. Could you go out in public wearing what you are now?: Yeah, I’m still wearing my clothes from class. If asked, could you run a mile nonstop right now?: Never. Do you follow a daily routine?: I’ve just started one recently. Do you have to plan your days out meticulously or are you spontaneous?: I like to be spontaneous, but at the same time I’m obsessed with order and structure. Both... Are you allowed to go over to the opposite sex’s house?: LOL. Do you think people’s idea of a 'date’ has changed over the years?: I think back in the day, it was more common for people to fuck on a first date. Nowadays, there’s a whole game to the dating scene. Have you ever given someone a friendship bracelet?: When I was in elementary school. Do you wear those rubber wristbands?: No. How does your behavior around adults differ from around friends?: I’m an adult. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it?: I don’t wear jewelry at all, anyway. Do you have public display of affection issues, or do you not care?: I'm a hypocrite. I love partaking in PDA, but I hate to see anyone else doing it. How soon is too soon to kiss a boyfriend/girlfriend?: Never. Just do it when it feels right. It’s just a kiss, after all. Do you hate it when people try to pressure you into doing something?: Yes. What instrument do you play, if any?: None. I used to be able to play a bit of the piano and flute. Has anyone ever taken your breath away?: In the literal sense, only things like music and films have done that to me. Do you like to walk around town, or would you rather take a car?: Walk, listen to music, feel the nature, and watch the scenery, so long as the weather outside is nice, or at least bearable. Does time usually pass by too fast for you?: Too fast and too slow. What’s the sweetest thing the gender of your choice could ever do for you?: Be spontaneous with me. Do you think it’s mean for people to use 'gay’ as an insult?: Yes. Is there anyone that you’d drop everything to go see?: Yes. Have you comforted anyone lately?: Yes. *** 01. How often do you walk around barefoot? 24/7 so long as I’m in the house. 02. When you eat take-out, do you just eat it out of the containers provided? I prefer that to plates, I like eating out of and with plastic things because there’s no germs or residue. 03. How do you prefer to travel? Plane, train, driving? Plane, because I have big dreams of the places I want to see. 04. Would you need to sleep with someone before considering marrying them? Definitely. 05. How often do you make your bed? There’s no point if you’re just going to mess it up again. 07. Do you carry condoms? I’m a lesbian, so I don’t really need them. 08. Would you date someone who has a hearing aid? Yes! 09. If you were to be stuck on a deserted tropical island, how big would you like the island to be? Big, but not too big where it feels like an abyss. 10. How organized are the files on your computer? Disorganized. 11. Have you ever been to a strip club? It’s on my bucket list. 12. Have you ever brought home a stray animal? No, but it’s always been a dream of mine. I want to help all the cute animals. 13. Did you have a childhood hero? Were they real or fictional? Hero? Don’t think so. 14. If you are put on hold and the music playing is a song you know, do you sing along? It is always elevator music. 15. Are you physically strong? More than I thought before. 16. Would you date someone with braces? No, it would cause too much tearing with physical contact. 17. Does scuba diving interest you? No. 18. Would you ever ask your parents for relationship advice? I have, but I feel gross doing it. 19. Do you think people look up to you? People tell me they do, but I don’t believe them. 20. How often do you have trouble sleeping at night? Never. I fall right asleep like a baby. 21. Can you drive a manual transmission? I can’t drive at all. 22. Have you ever re-gifted a gift you didn’t care for? My mom did it for me when I was little. Now that I’m older I appreciate every gift I receive. 23. Do you ever rehearse conversations before you have them? If it’s with someone I have a crush on. 24. You notice someone staring intently at you, what do you do? Stare right back at them, and make it somewhat of a contest. 25. Do you blush easily? Yes!! 26. Do you get angry at yourself or at others more often? Myself! I seldom get angry at others but I’m one of the people who is most hard on themselves in the world, I think. 27. Can you name five current world leaders? Yes. 28. When taking a cab, do you talk to the driver? I’ve taken an Uber twice. I didn’t want to, but they both initiated conversation, so I went along with it. 29. Do you like word games like Scrabble or Boggle? I love words, so yes. 30. Would you consider dating a psychiatrist or psychologist? Sure, but only if they are actually good in their field. I don’t want someone to try explaining all my behaviors in our relationship if they don’t know the first thing about how brains actually work. *** What is the current advertisement above?: There is none. Have you ever played tic tac toe on your arm in sharpie?: No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’: We’ve joked about it, but it never came to fruition. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions?: Landmarks. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books?: Not if it’s assigned reading. I know, it should be the other way around. Don’t bug bites make you sad?: They could be easily prevented, if my parents just listened to me and didn’t leave the front door open when they’re in the middle of something. Does your house have more than one fireplace?: It doesn’t have any. I repeat: I live in Florida. Would you say that you’re better in Math or English?: English, of course. What was your favourite gym class moment?: None. Have you ever watched The Mask Of Zorro?: Nope. If I were to give you a pet camel, what would you name it?: Todd. Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun?: They’re gorgeous and wonderful and everything good in the world. When it rains does it leave a lake in your front yard?: Nope. What colour is your music device?: It’s my phone, and it’s either gold or rose gold, I can’t remember/tell. Your opinion on all of the new Disney/Nick stars with upcoming CDs?: Let me just say, Andi Mack is an amazing show! Okay, that’s it. Would you please make me some food?: I only know how to make a few things. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks?: That was such a fun activity, I always wrote something cheeky. Does Harry Potter eat chicken nuggets?: No, they only have the highest quality of cuisine at Hogwarts. Does your mum watch Judge Judy too much?: That reminds me, she just got recruited for Jury Duty, LOL. Where is one place that you’d never be caught dead in?: A lingerie shop. Apple Jacks; Yay or nay?: I like cereal that’s actually cereal, not candy. Have you ever watched the movie Driving Lessons?: Never heard of it. Favourite candle scent?: I like all, except the fresh laundry and beach ones. Coke or Pepsi brand sodas?: Coke, is that even a question? If you could live in a world of your own, would you make everything madness?: The world we live in right now is utter madness. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie?: No. Have you ever been invited to a clam bake?: WTF?? Do storms frequently knock out your power?: Sometimes. Do you enjoy taking polls?: Yep! Do you dislike when people ruin the endings of anything for you?: Depends on how much I care about the series/movie that I’m going to watch. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down?: Toddlers and babies are gross, not cute. Have you ever eaten a penny?: ???? What is the last cartoon that you have watched?: Bojack Horseman...I THINK. Have you ever played Disc Golf or Ultimate Frisbee?: No. Cheez-its; yay or nay?: YAY! What is your favourite flavour of PopTart?: S’mores. Do you tan easily in the summertime?: No, I burn. Have you ever been to a funeral?: Yes, but I barely knew the guy, even though he was a family member. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past?: Yes, my grandma has some nice stories. Currently, what is going on around you?: I am listening to a white noise track on YouTube, because it’s the only way I can concentrate on anything. Can you read a compass well?: Not at all. If platypuses weren’t poisonous, would you have one for a pet?: No. *** do you ever wish you could just go to sleep and never wake up? Dying in my sleep is one of my biggest fears. do you want to have any children? if so, how many? Never. how many piercings have you had in your life all together? Ear piercings, but I made them close up. how many do you have now? Zero. do you have a problem with bisexual, gay, or bicurious people? I’m a lez myself. do you use hearts like this <3 a lot? Yep! <3 what were you doing at 12 AM? Filling out this survey, it’s been taking me so long, but I’m enjoying every minute of it. do you like where you live? Yes, but I’d hate to live here forever. how’s your sister? I have two half-sisters, but I never see them. is anyone over protective of you? My mom!!! have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? I don’t recall. what color is your toothbrush? Multicoloured.  is there someone who meant a lot to you at one point, and isn’t around now? Yes. what do you do when you’re having a bad day? Try to sleep, but then my thoughts are too distracting, so I take a walk. where is your mother right now? Sleeping. when was the last time you cried really hard? Seeing Call Me By Your Name in theatres. let’s test your memory, what were you doing at this exact moment a year ago? What a whack question. do you smoke weed everyday? I’ve only smoked it once, and I don’t plan on smoking it again. if the year consisted of only one season, which would you choose? Spring. have you ever liked someone older than you? Story of my life. who was the last person to call you? Mom. are you multi-tasking right now? Nope. what is the most irritating thing? Intimate sounds from people I dislike...I know that’s oddly specific. are you a patient person? No. do you ever listen to country music? Never. do you get mad when people smoke around you? Yes, I’m worried about secondhand smoke. did you lie on any of these questions so far? No. do you remember who you liked in january? It’s January right now. is life good or bad? Depends on the day. are you the oldest child? No. what was the last thing you said to someone? I don't remember. are you happy? Depends on the day. ever been told someone loved you? Yes. who was your last missed call? Too lazy to check. do you like cold and rainy days, or warm and sunny? Warm and cool at the same time. are you nervous about anything? Always. are you happier now, or three months ago? Now. what’s your current mood? Nervous. what color are your eyes? Hazel. do you and your mother have a good relationship? It’s complicated. do you know anyone with literally no common sense? Me. have you ever worn the opposite sex’s clothing? It’s my preference. honestly and don’t lie how's your heart these days? Overly passionate. have you ever had a summer romance? No. looking back, did you ever think you would be where you are now? No. do you remember who you had feelings for in december 2009? Yes. is a best friend pissing you off right now? Yes. what woke you up this morning? My alarm. do you have a brother? Half-brother whom I’ve never met. are you sad right now? Yes. do you like winter time? No. was it a boy or a girl to text you first today? Girl. what are you listening to right now? White noise. when was the last time you wanted to slap someone in their face? Today. are you scared of spiders? Yes. do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? I give endless chances. do you have siblings over the age of 21? All three of them. when’s the last time you cried yourself to sleep? Yesterday. do you struggle to articulate your thoughts and feelings? I know them way too well, actually. do you believe in divorce? I believe you shouldn’t get married in the first place. do you think you’re old? No. where have you lived throughout your life? New York and Florida. what’s the greatest thing that happened to you today? My first philosophy class. has anyone said they love you in the last week? Yes. would you rather visit australia, germany, croatia or jamaica? Croatia x10000 when was the last time you saw your dad? Today. if your boyfriend or girlfriend smoked pot, would you care? Only if it was daily. have you ever camped out with a significant other? I’ve never camped out at all. what keeps you awake at night? Nothing. As I said, I fall asleep like a baby. how many times have you stayed in a hotel? A lot. what does your third text message say? who is it from? Too lazy, again! plans for tomorrow? Two university classes. honestly, what’s on your mind right now? I'm tired but I want to complete this survey. other than a person, what was the last thing you cuddled with? My dog, of course. where was the last place you got completely wasted? I’ve never gotten completely wasted. do you need/want new clothes? I need them. I don’t want them. what did you eat for lunch today? A Dunkin’ Donuts wake-up wrap. how would you feel about traveling abroad alone? It’s my dream. what was the last thing you watched on tv? The Golden Globes (and I was disappointed with the results, of course, if you were paying attention to my previous answers on this survey.) when is the last time you wore a dress? For Christmas, I think? do you prefer hot, humid weather or bone-chilling cold weather? Hot and humid weather. last person you yelled at? Mom. have you ever watched one tree hill? No. who did you last have an alcoholic drink with? The guests at the Christmas party. are you afraid of falling in love? No, I love the feeling. what color eyes does your cat have? I have a dog, not a cat. what is the drinking age where you live? 21. do you lead people on? I’m very direct. how do you feel about your hair right now? It's up in a ponytail. I recently found a shampoo that works perfectly with it. have you ever thought that you were honestly going to die? Yes. who did you last say i love you to? My online bestie. when is your birthday? June 20th. is there any emotion you’re trying to avoid right now? One that I want to get rid of, but I acknowledge it. do you ever get “good morning” or “good night” texts? No. when did you last hold hands with someone? Oh God, it’s been a while. can you touch your nose with your tongue? No. stalked someone on a social network? 24/7. are you afraid of the dark? No. have you ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? Yes. have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? Story of my life, again. 1) Have you ever read the play “Waiting for Godot?” Did you like it? I haven't. 2) Do you actually like the early Simpsons episodes? I don’t watch The Simpsons. 3) Do you ever get horrible back pains? I’m actually getting adjustments at the Chiropractor for them. I have bent nerves in my back. 4) Do you ever nick the free things they put in hotel rooms (soaps, biscuits, chocolates, etc.)? Yep. 5) How often does it snow where you are? Does it interrupt your day-to-day life? Never. 6) How often do your knees crack when you stand up/crouch down? Always. 7) What’s your favourite flavour of Pringles? Sour cream and onion. That’s a flavor, isn’t it? 8) Do you have an ex that acts really weird with you sometimes, but absolutely fine with you at other times? No. 9) Have you ever been skiing/snowboarding before? Did you like it? I haven’t. 10) Do you do your own grocery shopping or not? Nope. 11) Are you on the pill? Is it for contraception or for other reasons? I am, to make my periods lighter and to balance my hormones. 12) Is someone in your family affected by Asperger’s? I am. 13) Are you addicted to any kind of soda? Ginger ale. 14) Have you ever eaten sugar straight out of the packet? No, gross. 15) Do programmes about bad eating habits make you want to sit and eat junk food? Quite the opposite. 16) Do you ever get worried about calling up strangers on the phone (eg. in hotels or for jobs)? Always. 17) In a hotel do you always nose through all the drawers and cupboards? Yes, it’s so much fun! 18) How often do you crack your back? Often. 19) Is your keyboard missing any keys? No way. 20) Are you afraid of flying or do you enjoy it? Or is it just normal to you? I love it! I love being above the clouds and the world looking miniature compared to me. 21) Have you ever flown to another country by yourself? Not yet. 22) What can you see out of the window right now? Nothing, I have the blinds closed. 23) Is your phone/iPod charging right now? No. 24) Do you like Elvis Presley’s music? No. 25) Do you live outside the United States? No. 26) If so, does it bug you when surveys are really Americanised? -- 27) Do you still watch Futurama? Never did. 28) Do you watch reality shows? Which one is the worst in your opinion? Yes, and all of them are the worst. 29) What size bed do you have? Twin-sized. It’s so goddamn small. 30) Do you get really bad periods? If so, what do you do to make them less painful? Not ever since I’ve been taking the pill.

[gay-velma]

all the odds?

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

MORE CEREAL FOR THE HARVEST OF THE SWEET MILK

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

So many random things

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

Somewhat

7: do you name your plants?

No I have no plants to name

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Heck ye

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends?

I

13: what's something that made you smile today?

Watching a kid in my grade let himself get zip tied to a desk by another student

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

There is an entire planet made of diamonds

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Blue or purple

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I don’t keep a journal really

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

It’s a brown messenger bag that my mom got years ago as a freebie from a hair product company she was working with at the time. It is now missing one of the magnetic clasps, It’s been out of commission since summer school ended last year though, cause I was using it as a computer bag/purse and I don’t take my own computer to school this year cause of ignite bullcrap

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Read, watch a movie or something, or bake.

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into?

I don’t know if it is breaking in if it’s an open archway but in middle school during the father daughter dance I snuck into the boys bathroom, and then at a lock in we all gave little fucks and just whatever bathroom was closest.

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor?

I really like fruity flavors, or that dreamsicle flavor from when Extra did those dessert flavored gums

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Just exist tbh except Bernadette​ das just a hoe

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

Eh I’m not a fan. If i gotta wear sock i’d rather they be weird. I used to have to confine to white sock hell, cause I didn’t wanna break dress code in middle school. But socks can eat my ass unless it is below freezing or I am going to work.

33: what's your fave pastry?

ANYTHING EXCEPT DONUTS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I don’t use stationary, cause I have no reason to, but i Do use pretty pens cause I like to use then when handwriting notes to differentiate information.

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

I’s like to keep it clean, but it is a mess™ .

39: what color do you wear the most?

Black tbh, cause I just have so many black clothes

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving?

The Promise of Amazing by Robin Constantine

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

Myself

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

Yes, they have yet to steer me wrong for long

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Salt and vinegar chips

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

CDs the last one I bought was Gossamer by Passion Pit

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

IDGAF by Watsky, the person knows who they are

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

I’ve seen rocky horror, and parts of Beetlejuice. I like rocky horror, beetle isn’t really my thing

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point?

I once went through an entire process to prove to someone I could find out where their house was so I could go over and smack them

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I’m just dead inside from hearing it so much. I did not cause I am in view of my parents and I don’t have the energy to explain things to them tonight.

59: what's your favorite myth?

The myth of after 8 hours of sleep actually being well rested and awake.

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received?

I don’t do stupid gifts. And I don’t think that something someone took the time to get me is stupid. But I did have a ridiculously sized teddy bear that someone gave me for my 16th birthday that unfortunately was destroyed by mice at my old house

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

Every once and a while I organize them, usually when I actually have the energy to properly clean my room, but they eventually just wind up wherever

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with?

My two friends who I haven’t seen since my birthday who go to a different school than me

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

Sometimes tired, sometimes extremely energized

69: what are your favorite board games?

Trans-America/Trans-Europs

71: what's your favorite kind of tea?

Mint tea, specifically Bigelow Plantation Mint

73: what are some of your worst habits?

I pick my nose and can’t keep my dirty clothes in one pile 

75: tell us about your pets!

I have two dogs, Nellie and Nelson. Both former strays. Nellie we’ve had since I was in middle school and some of my friends want to steal her cause she is pure. Then there’s the asshole, Nelson we got literally the day before school started, he is still a puppy, but he drives me insane.

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

Pink

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

The aforementioned teddy bear. Like the person texted me when they got there and had someone cover my eyes so I would be surprised, it was a pure moment of joy in the middle of a bowling alley

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

I’m gonna do two, cause they almost always go together in my mind.

Together they have the forest. A forest after the rain. Earth and bark and leaves and grass, they simply exist together. Close together. 

83: what's some of your favorite album art?

?????????????????????????????

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

I read webcomics and rn I’m loving Blindsprings, Go Get A Roomie (NSFW here), and Namesake all good shit

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

I ain’t gonna tell someone how to live their lives, but Moonstruck, cause every one needs to experience a weirdly buff and tortured Nic Cage from the 80s

89: are you close to your parents?

Fairly, close enough that my mom thought to tell me to go get laid essentially, and that our family relationship wasn’t ruined completely when we played cards against humanity on christmas

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

*vague gestures* I dunno, I have no plans really, aside from St. Charles for college.

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most?

Either all down or some of the hair pulled back and out of my face.

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

Work, scream into the void while trying to do homework, try not to die internally during the church rush on sunday

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

INFP Capricorn and Hufflepuff

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

Sour Patch Kids by Bryce Vine

I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers

New Soul by Yael Naim

Spirits by The Strumbellas

Long Time Traveller by The Waillin’ Jennys