#and i ended up scrolling my dashboard checking if people i used to always see on here are still posting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sponseredbybadlifechoices · 9 months

Text

I hate my art style, it feels too claustrophobic, I always have ideas but when I get anything out I either can’t execute it or my mind blanks, then there’s the absolute lack of motivation I’ve had the same sketchbook since like November 22nd and I am not even half way through with it, and the rotting ohhh the rotting

Rotting is just being in that stupide adhd x Depression combo where you have so much to do/want to do but physically can’t get up and do anything due to the affermentioned adhd and depression and so you lay in bed for the rest of the day or all day where you scroll through social media and are so consumed with everything that’s wrong with you and how stifling your room is and how much you want to go outside to a place you’ll only ever see in your daydreams and you’d give to be there or anywhere that isn’t here but you can’t because it’s not shower day yet and if you shower today you’ll have to shower on Monday which is the day you go back to school and you need to brush your teeth and floss because god knows when was the last time you did that

and you want to draw SOMETHING but doing anything is so physically and mentally taxing and when you ARE able to move to draw you can’t draw ANYTHING because despite having so much fanart and references and shit saved none of it inspires you OR it DOES but all your ideas are bad or your hand just can’t produce what it wants and it hasn’t been able to draw anything interesting and that wouldn’t be a problem because there’s so many filters you can use but you can’t utilize ANY of it because you have never been able to think outside the box or do anything interesting because you’re you and nothing you’ve ever drawn has been fucking worth it because it’s all so. Fucking. Boring. It doesn’t say anything new it doesn’t say anything interesting it doesn’t even make you think. At least before October it made you happy and you were actually satisfied with your art but you haven’t felt that feeling since September or July

And that’s another thing you physically can draw anything that doesn’t interest you, and that is heavy blow to your ego when literally NOTHING interests you anymore

When not even your old and dear hyperfixations can save you because you’re so beyond saving because you never had anything interesting to say even with your old interests and so you put your art supplies or iPad away and go back to your phone and you can’t even read fanfic cuz you’re not at school and that’s the on,y time your brain will let you so you go on twitter expecting to see gay fanart but nooo the past month has been full of just radfem bullshit or discourse that does matter yes but is not what you want to see and then you wonder why there’s so much radfem shit on your tl and ofc it’s because someone your following is liking their shit of you must’ve accidentally liked a tweet from a radfem and so now you’re thinking which tweet it was and reevaluating your ideals but you don’t know which ones because you don’t know which fucking tweet you liked that caused this whole downfall andyou just want your timeline to go back to fanart for shit you didn’t give a fuck about and updates on Palestine

So you goto tumblr but that quickly ends because you check all your faves blogs and the dashboard is so fucking boring so you goto tiktok which just, makes everything so much worse, cuz you’ll lay there scrolling through TikTok’s for fucking hours worsening the rotting and yet still being so goddamned bored despite every video but you can’t stop because watching something anything is better than laying there looking into nothing except your shitty fucking room with your queen sized bed tht takes up 90% of the room because your mom wanted the stupid thing to go right smack in the middle and you just wanna sleep upstairs again because upstairs has the most natural light with a big window facing the other apartments but your sister sleeps up there now and she never uses that window because “people can see inside” and you get that shes incredibly paranoid but you’re so fucking jealous and pissed off that she gets all that beautiful natural light to save her but she never fucking utilizes it while you’re stuck on the first floor where your room has two windows on opposite sides, one facing the patio the other facing the street and the patio window while great does not get the ray of sunlight that upstairs does and god knows I’m to scared of another face bejng on the other side of the street window and that’s why you hate the bed being in the middle of the fucking room. At least one of the reasons

Because if your mom could just move it all the way to the patio window you can get so much more natural light and a lot more room, but your mom doesn’t want to do that because of the stupid fucking matching drawers she got and how she wants our individual drawers on each side of the bed and you get it but godgodgod you fucking hate this lack of space how the bed is basically the entire fucking room and since you are absolutely awful at picking cleaning up after yourself there’s basically nowhere to walk and your mom complains about this and it would be so much easier if the bed was just on one side or if you just got a smaller fucking bed,

oh and because of that big ass bed if your mommy isn’t in bed with you you have so much more trouble sleeping like a fucking child but whatever it’s fine you just won’t bring up how much you hate this room you won’t get irritated when your mom always grumbles and huffs and puffs and mutters under her breath passive agressive shit about how dirty the house is because of you and you sister but she only ever does this in front of you so you’re the only one having to take the brunt of it and she’s right of course but it’s the muttering and the huffing and the fucking puffing that pisses you off so much and you just can’t stand it that you have to hold yourself back from splitting your moms head open with your bare fucking hands

And you’re still laying in bed but at this point you’ve sat up and looked at your side of the floor, except there is no floor there’s just all your shit and you can’t even see your floor and you wonder howd it get this bad when you just fucking cleaned it, will you get up and clean it? No! Because you’re so exhausted from either the day at school you had or from the entire week and you never actually heal from school even if you’re on break because you need so so much more time than 2 weeks or 2 days to repair everything and the only reason you survived the first semester is because you kept going and didn’t look back despite how the entire semester when you go home you just spend the rest of the day rotting and you continue to rot for the rest of the week and the weekend and the fucking breaks, and you think to yourself that taking these tiny little breaks will recuperate you just enough to keep going another week and it does but when you reach winter break you come crashing down amd don’t even get me started on how anticlimactic finals were and Christmas and literally everything despite Christmas being your favorite holiday every year every fucking holiday gets worse and worse but that’s not the point is it. Through the rotting although it recuperates you just a tiny bit what it doesn’t let you do is fucking draw like said before and drawing digitally/actually focusing on bigger pieces either traditional or digital is the most enticing part of the weekend or breaks.

But it never comes. Because youre too busy reeling from the day, week, hell months you’ve had and you’re so fucking depressed and it’s gotten so so much worse ever since school started again and you wish you could be one of those low functioning depressed people because they look like they have it so easy but they probably don’t and you’re being so fucking judgemental again but you just can’t help but there’s no one who publicly talks about these parts about their depression

And of COURSE they wouldn’t but you wish so hard someone would, because despite your selfish desires to be the only person to feel what you’re feeling when you get that “wish” and you don’t see anyone talk about it this way you feel so so alone despite you desiring that and you hate it you hate all of it and no one even knows that you’re struggling like this not even your therapist because you were so focused on surviving each week that you couldn’t focus on this slow burn decline and of course you had alot of other shit going on that were more urgent to discuss w your therapist amd even they noticed how you’ve been lower in mood and you noticed too. In your sessions you’ve been so much more tired and so much less your exuberant excited self. It’s not all gone of course you’re still your hyper fixated autistic self and you still get excited over your hyperfixations. But you’ve noticeably been more tired in sessions and probably outside of sessions but no one notices except your therapist and when they ask about it you don’t know what to say.

You’re so well aware of the rot and your art decline which coincides with your mental decline but you bring those up in passing. Because you don’t realize how bad the slow burn is, like putting a frog in water and slowly heating it up until it dies without realizing it. And this is all because you were convincing yourself that you couldn’t be this exhausted you don’t have math this year. And that’s what keeps you going. Not having math. And you notice, you notice how you’re still so so fucking exhausted but you tell yourself to keep going or how it’s not that bad because you don’t have math. This was supposed to be a better year for fucks sake but it wasn’t. And you can’t tell why. I got rid of the biggest contributor of my misery so why, why has everything gotten so much worse? Why have I gotten more miserable? Why has my art gotten worse? Less recognizable? So much more claustrophobic and boring and so so awful? It’s not fair

It’s so not fucking fair why do I have to go through this. Why do I have to deal with periods, why do I have to deal with boobs and a disgusting voice and hips and thighs of a fucking woman why do I have to deal with this body I didn’t even fucking want. Why do I have to deal with this mental decline. Why do I have to deal with my artistic decline while everyone else has “Highschool problems”. But you know that’s not true. You know your friends only want you to see what they can make light of, you know they’re problems are so so much deeper than they let on but you’re always such a vindictive and selfish person you think their problems aren’t as bad as yours and that’s so so untrue so you keep those thoughts in your head and ohhhh you can’t even get started on your physical pains your knee still hurts from when your dog and this German Shepard collided with it and it’s been months.

But it still hurts and when your at a dog park and a bunch of dogs start running at you you feel the panic and the indescribable pain you felt that day. But that’s not all, your knee hurts but it’s gotten to hurting your leg as a whole too, in your aerobics class you can’t do certain things anymore because your stupid fucking knee hurts too much and uts not fucking fair because it happened months ago so why why why fucking why does it still hurt. And then there’s the headaches oh the headaches and so much more health issues you can’t even fucking remember and the doctors did nothing about but make referrals to check SOME of them. But it’s whatever! It’s not like I feel like I’m constantly fighting for air when I’m at school, it’s not like the inhaler that I have barely helps it’s fucking WHATEVER.

And all you want is for someone to take you seriously, to not joke about any of this, to actually fucking see you but everyone is a emotionally stunted teenager and you can’t even blame them because you’re the one who constantly makes jokes and deflects and who can’t put your feelings into word

Until the last fucking second

When all of it has happened and will continue to happen

Who will save you from this fucking depressive episode. No one because you didn’t tell them anything but at least you’re writing it down now so next time you see your therapist you can finally. Finally. Work on this whole fucking issue

What’s the point of me going through this? The first half of 2023 while by no means perfect was such a wonderful time of artistic expression. And of course the rotting was still very very there at least at that time my art felt good. It felt amazing. Will it be like this again this year? An amazing first half and debilitating second half? Is it because of daylight savings? I wouldn’t be wrong in that assessment I’ve said multiple times how much night coming quicker severely depresses me. If I was somewhere that actually snowed I wouldn’t mind as much because then I can have a winter moment or fucking something butNO I got to be born in cali fucking fornia where there’s no seasons and by the time I move out there will be no seasons left in this fucking world because our world leaders and corporations will have fucked it all up

It’s not fair, none of this is fair. I shouldn’t have to deal with any of this, why me. Of all people, out of every person in this world. You could have given all this baggage to some rich person who would be able to make it all go away. But no. You just HAD to give it to someone in poverty! And not only that you made them trans and gay and to add insult to injury you gave them depression anxiety adhd autism and so much trauma they can barely function. What was the point of making me like this. I know I’m not kind to my ocs, but why did god have to be a 12 year old girl? Can she even hear me, does she even care. But blaming everything on an entity that isn’t even sure to exist is such a pussy move. Those to blame are those who have hurt me, those who made the school system like that, those who downplay mental illness. Everyone. Except me. Who’s to say all of this isn’t my fault, was I that bad of a child that I Inadvertently gave myself all of this

I hate all of this, I know I’m responsible for everything but goddamnit

This body this mind this psyche is so fucking repulsive these hands can’t even draw anything interesting. This voice isn’t mine. This face isn’t fully mine. This chest is not mine and never will be. These thighs and these hips are so woman like but I’m not a woman I’m a little boy I shouldn’t have this body I should no chest and tinier hips, less womanly thighs

And it’s funny because this body is that of a grown woman but this voice and face is that of a little girls. It’s disgusting. This almagamation of a child and adult on the cusp of being a woman but still just a little girl but I’m not I’m not I’m not I’m not I don’t want to be a girl I hate being a girl I hate it I hate it I hate it why do boys at my school get to be born as boys but I’m stuck in this mature body I didn’t want to start puberty at 11 I should’ve started at 13 or 14 or whenever cis boys start. Why do I have to develop early.

Why couldn’t I have it later, why couldn’t my mom put me on puberty blockers why why why I shouldn’t have had to deal with a puberty that was never meant for me. I need to start testosterone I need it so bad I can’t handle this anymore I hate being a girl I hate being a woman it was never meant for me. I want to be feminine in the way cis twinks are, do cis gays even realize how lucky they are? Will they ever? Being able to live comfortably in a body that was meant for you. Why do you get to have that but I don’t. You don’t deserve it. I deserve it. Why do I have to fight for everything that was given to you I hate this body so much i hate you so much I hate you I hate you I hate you

And how jealous I get when you and blue or literally friends I spend a lot of time w spend their time w other people. It's such a disgusting desire to want to be the only person that my obsessions ever talk to I hate it I hate it so so fucking much, and I want to be loved so bad and I am loved so why why is it so difficult to see that I am. Is it because of my immense depression and trauma that makes me feel like people don't mean it or my disassociation disorder that makes it feel unreal or.

Is it because my standard of love is so so high because I'm such an obsessive piece of fucking shit that I want people to practically worship and adore me. That I want to be the only one who matters in someone's life even though I hate HATE being the sole person who's focused on in a relationship? What is it that I want. is it in the middle? That I want to be the most important, fun, interesting and good friend anyone's ever known but they still have others that they love but never as much as they love me? Is that it Evan? You just want to be the most important person in the world to someone? But aren't you already? I am but it doesn't feel real, how can I know they're being honest Evan? How can I know that they're even real? How do I even do it Evan.

I know theres many people who love me and matt loves me so so much he's said it multiple times so what's stopping me Evan. What is preventing me from accepting it fully? Evan, it's your ego. That stupid good for nothing fragile wall that is your ego. That's the reason for all of this. But wouldn't it also be my disassociation? Evan, it's my belief they're connected.

Your disassociation was set up by your ego to make it stronger against the very real threats you were going through at home. I get that but, that can't be it can it? There has to be more factors in this, but so what if there is. All we need to know is that you'll never be capable of truly believing and feeling people's love

It will come to you sporadically, and you'll be able to fully believe you are loved. But it'll never be permanent. Yet you expect people to believe you when you say you adore them or love them, just like with people telling you they love you, but at least with your love you know it's true and while some moments feel more normal you'll always get those (much less) sporadic waves of adoration and worship. It's funny to me how badly you want them to cut you and hurt you and how badly you want to do the same. How you want to isolate them and yourself from everyone and have it just be you three.

You never want them to leave you, and who knows what'll happen if they do. It's not like you'd kill yourself of course, or hurt anybody. But I know losing them, due to their own decisions and not through death will break you. You'll never recover from it, or maybe you'll completely deflect from it and lead a normal life but years later youll sit in your apartment and it'll all come crashing down and youll be so useless and pathetic in those next few days, weeks hell even months. But that'll only happen if you're able to see them in real life right? I mean.

Even with your sister as much as you despise her you still love her. But no matter how much you love somebody I just, I can't see you being the type to really care that much when they die. You'll feel a gaping hole sure but, you'll maybe cry at the funeral and just move on. Or is it just that the ego wall with the disassociation has made you feel numb and nothing. Is that how you got through this semester? The "it's not that bad" and "gotta keep going" attitude mixed in with the numbness? It's late, you're not making sense Evan. But I will, once you figure out how to tie everything together. Just like you always do, my little starlight. I hope you die Evan. Y yo a tí, mí estrella

What a disgusting waste of two hours, how shameful am I undeserving and better left for dead. I'm glad you hope for the same thing as I do, even though you're just me talking to myself like some edgy freak. God we really don't deserve anything, I don't know why I'm still talking Evan. You're asleep, Matt's asleep. Evan when will I get to see you again, I know youre just figment of my imagination, the personification of my opposing thoughts. I'm surprised you didn't come as asuka, hell you don't even have a physical form just my name.

I'm still confused about what happened between me and asuka me, it was so much more... involuntary than what we did. It felt like a deep part of my subconscious was ripping me from the inside out, but you. You're just...you're what I'm used to I guess. Ohh three hours talking about all of this, what a load of bullshit matt is gonna wake up to. That one line about how bad this year was really just made me realize huh. Evan? I don't know why I want you to respond again, I know I probably can since you're not real.

Just a part of my thoughts, but I can't. I can't bring you fully back out like I did earlier, I can still hear echos of you calling me starlight but that's..that's it. Why aren't you coming back, wake up man come on you can't. You can't just leave me, you were supposed to keep me company while matt slept. Whyd you go back to my subconscious Evan, you should be here with me. with your opposing views, and shit. This is such edgy teenager bullshit, you're not even real. I hate you so much. More than anything. Is it because you're me? Or is it because you left me?will you come back to me soon Evan? What a shameful waste of three hours we are

#vent

0 notes

tittyblade · 3 years

Text

tumblr etiquette 101

a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.

First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!

Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!

1) Your blog

This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!

Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.

Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]

Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.

You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.

Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.

Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.

Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.

2) Interacting with others

You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!

Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.

Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.

Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.

You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.

Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.

...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.

Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.

For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.

3) Your Posts

Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!

Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.

Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.

Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.

Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason.

Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)

Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.

@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.

4) Tags, and tagging a post

This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.

Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.

Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.

Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it.

If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.

Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.

Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved.

If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others.

Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol.

You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.

#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.

Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:

Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3

#mcyttwt #mcytblr #dream team #dream smp #mcyt #dsmp #tumblr #how to tumblr #gonna tag ppl now so more users will see it lol #dreamwasteken #georgenotfound #karl jacobs #technoblade #sbi #twitter #twitter discourse #sbitwt #sleepytwt #sleepy bois inc #HOLY shit this took so long omg my back literally hurts rn #the fuckin lengths i go to make sure tumblr doesnt get tainted w twt LMAO #anyways if youre seeing this you should follow me look at how sexy i am i spent the last 2+ hours typing this goddamn list out #also: ignore how i literally sound like its 2014 at some parts here lol i tried my best #also ignore how wack the paragraph breaks are tumblrs formatting hates me and its 4 am im too tired for this #third also: some bits here are supposed to be ironic keep that in mind pls #rolan.txt #long post #save #yes im tagging my own post as save what about it

2K notes · View notes

remindingpersephone · 3 years

Text

Thoughts On Things

I've got a potentially long, rambly post coming, about attention, energy, social media, attitude, mindset, etc. So I'm going to put it under the cut to preserve the dash.

I took a break from Tumblr at the end of December, but I'm not sure I could tell you exactly why. I think there were several reasons, but they were kind of all floaty and ephemeral. Just now, I saw something in one of @ohhelloholly's posts that might have zeroed in on it, a little bit: "...but it just makes my anxiety churn. It's like we're caught in a loop, and the motor is driven by idiots." I love my Tumblr mutuals, you know who you are, but I think I'm following too many other people. Good or bad, right or wrong, it's all just too much. Too many voices, too many opinions, too many thoughts, too many ideas. Even if they're good ideas, righteous thoughts, it's just overload.

I have already cut back all news feeds and 99.9% of Instagram/Twitter/Facebook. I have to stay on Meta *snort* for work purposes, but I am laser focused when I use it. I log-in, check work stuff, log out. Tumblr was always where I spent the most time. It was alarming how easily I could start scrolling and then BOOM, it's an hour later.

What I learned on this last break from Tumblr, and the continued break from all other social media, is just how detrimental it was to my mood and attitude. Not only for the reasons mentioned above, but also for the ugliness, the political farce, the willful ignorance, the intentional and unintentional damage people inflict on one another. As users of social media our attention is a commodity for the world to access and exploit. I am now unwilling to give mine away easily. I will ruthlessly protect my attention and energy. It takes a little more effort to trim down a feed or dashboard, but it's worth the effort to get the connection/information I truly want. It feels like the early 2000s, when if you wanted to see someone's work, you had to go to their website. No more dashboard to automatically deliver it to you. Right now, this feels like the wiser course, the healthier option. It may mean I don't get to my favorite Tumblr's page for a while, and then I heartbomb every post in one day. This ensures I keep in touch with the people who matter, while maintaining the distance from all the other noise.

For a couple years now, life in general, and in certain specific ways, has felt like a constant back and forth. I am being pulled in several directions: work that pays the bills, creative endeavors that keep me sane, taking care of two aging parents alone, normal everyday life errands and chores, self-growth and improvements projects. There is never enough time to get to all of it, and that's okay. That's the deal. Life was never going to be easy and fun and fulfilling and wonderful and awesome all at the same time. Over the last few weeks, realizing exactly how draining certain things are, things that I can control, and learning how to minimize their negative effects, has been very illuminating.

The short and fast of that analysis is: get off the rollercoaster of other people's opinions; guard my attention and what I allow to take up my time and use my energy; stop taking the bait of political and social arguments with people IRL; stop judging myself for all the things I don't get done; more deep breaths/long walks/quiet time alone.

I took the week between Christmas and New Years off. It was the first time I had done so in 14 years (the year my nephew was born) and likely I won't ever do it again. I work in hospitality in Florida, so that is a busy week, and it took a lot of effort and aggravation to be able to leave work at that time. But while I was out of the office, I used the time off to pay attention to my attitude and mindset. How were they different when I was at work versus when I was at home? What affected them at home and if those effects were negative, what could I change? Same thing for when I was at work. Most of what I learned is that I can control far more than I believed. The trick is identifying what I can control. It's not always as obvious as you'd think. What I can do is maintain the control I have, instead of throwing my hands up and saying "Fuck it, life is chaos" and then stewing in anger and resentment about all the things I think I can't control. Because the one big, BIG thing I can control is my reaction to what's going on. And there are SO MANY THINGS I don't have to react to at all. Acknowledge then move on. No need to answer, comment, react, etc. It's simple: George is having a meltdown, not my circus, moving on. I don't need to fix George's problem, or comment on it, or commiserate. I just need to acknowledge it, and then move on. Now, I say this is simple, because it is. It is not a complex thing. But it isn't easy. Not for a fixer like me. It takes effort and energy to not react. That seems silly, but it's true. At least, for me it is. Finally understanding this about myself, and taking the steps to behave differently, has been incredible.

Wow, this post got long. If you're still reading this, bless your heart. I didn't write it for likes, though I'm always grateful for them. I didn't write it for approval or attention. I wrote it because the things I write here carry more weight and meaning for me than anything I write in a journal. I take it more seriously, maybe because it's public. And there is always that small hope that someone else may read it and get a tiny morsel of guidance, inspiration, humor - something that makes their day better for having read it.

#motivation #inspiration #talking to myself

32 notes · View notes

junghelioseok · 4 years

Text

clandestine. | 03

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 9.2k [3/6]

notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime!

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

Monday - 11:27am

Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨

[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!

[11:27am] Jisoo: ???

[11:28am] Lisa: go where?

[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!

[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet

[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao

[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??

[11:29am] You: nope

[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine

[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby

[11: 31am] You: 🙄

[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!

[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍

[11:38am] Taemin: tight

[11:39am] Jungkook: dope

[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄

Tuesday - 2:34pm

[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van

[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean

[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice

[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim

[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too

[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍

[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about

[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.

Wednesday - 9:49pm

[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD

[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?

[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up

[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler

[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?

[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice

[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there

[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍

[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing

[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍

[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom

///

The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.

“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”

“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.

He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”

You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.

The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.

“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.

“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”

Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”

It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.

“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”

“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.

“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”

You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”

“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”

“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”

He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.

“Ready?” he calls out the open window.

No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.

He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.

“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”

You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”

Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”

///

Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”

Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”

“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.

“Gee, you don’t say.”

He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”

You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.

“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.

Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”

“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”

“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”

Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Whaddaya want?”

“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”

On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”

That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”

“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”

“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”

“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”

You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”

“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”

He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”

“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.

“Rough morning?”

“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”

Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.

You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.

[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10

“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”

“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”

You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”

Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.

“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”

“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”

“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”

Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”

“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”

“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”

“Deal.”

///

Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.

Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.

“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.

You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”

“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.

“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.

Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”

Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”

“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”

You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.

///

It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.

“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.

“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.

“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”

“Do not!”

Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.

“Fuck!”

You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.

Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.

“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.

“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”

Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.”

Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.

Not that you’d been looking, of course.

“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”

The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”

“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”

He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.

“Tired?” you whisper.

“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”

Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.

///

“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.

“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”

“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”

Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”

“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.

“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”

Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”

“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”

Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.

“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”

You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”

“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.

The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”

“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.

The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.

It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.

///

You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.

Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.

In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.

As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.

“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.

“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”

“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.

Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”

Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”

Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”

“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”

You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”

He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”

“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.

It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”

Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”

“Quit ogling my sister!”

“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”

Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.

“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”

You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”

And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.

Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”

You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”

Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”

Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.

With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.

“Ready to go, Noona?”

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.

“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.

With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.

“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”

Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.

“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“

“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.

“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.

“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.

Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”

And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.

“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”

Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”

“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.

He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”

“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”

“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”

“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”

At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”

And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.

“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

///

What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.

Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.

By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.

“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.

Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”

“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”

“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”

“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”

You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”

“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”

Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”

You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.

It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.

“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.

“What should we do?”

“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”

“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”

By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”

“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”

“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”

“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”

“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”

“You love me!”

“Really? You wanna test that theory?”

The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.

[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497

You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.

But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.

[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers

You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.

But, you aren’t focused on that.

No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.

And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.

[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.

[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?

You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.

And then…

“Hey, princess.”

His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.

“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”

Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.

“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.

“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”

You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”

Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”

A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”

He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”

On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.

“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”

“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”

With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.

Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #bts #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #lia writes

904 notes · View notes

young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 21

Hannibal and y/n go after Chase and uncover a much larger operation than they could have imagined.

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

Trigger warnings: racism, mention of sex trafficking, religiously-motivated sexism/paternalism, American evangelism

Faced with the reality that you could die or worse, you wanted to go out with a bang. You wanted to take Borrasca down with you.

Hannibal checked the phone while you took stock of the weapons. Between the shotgun you just bought and the handgun in your car, you had enough firepower to have a chance at making it out alive.

You loaded the guns into your car. That way, if you were stopped, the licensing and registration would be consistent. Your car, your guns. Then there was the cover story. Newlyweds, on a hunting trip through the mountains.

"He's on Cactoctin Mountain." Hannibal announced, carefully scrolling through the information on Will's mangled phone.

You shut the door and put the key in the ignition. "Great, that's about an hour and a half, we should be there by sunrise."

“It’s the same mountain as Camp David.” He added. “Now, is that symbolic or--?”

“Or is he just too stupid to realize it’s a bad idea to headquarter a sex trafficking operation on the same mountain as the presidential retreat?” You finished.

Hannibal gave you a smile, as if to thank you for filling in with what he was too polite to say. “I’m inclined towards the latter.”

“Oh yeah.” You nodded. “Absolutely the latter.”

“Regardless,” He said, examining Will’s array of apps. “We have time to browse the contents of Will’s phone for any relevant information.”

“Good idea.” You agreed, pulling on to the street. “Check his notes and his camera.”

“It looks like he was recording the questioning when he and Jack Crawford approached Pastor Armitage.” He observed.

“That’s great.” You exclaimed. “Play it. Maybe it’ll give us something to go off of.”

The audio was grainy, but at max volume, you could make out two distinct voices. One belonged to Jack, meaning the other had to be Pastor Armitage.

“Calvin Armitage, my name is Jack Crawford and this is Will Graham. Can we have a few minutes of your time?”

A short silence followed, during which Jack presumably showed his badge.

“Of course. We here at Holy Eternal Shepherd support our officers of the law.” Armitage said. “If you’re here about the blue lives matter potluck-”

“I’m sorry, let me be more clear.” Jack interrupted. “We’re from the FBI. Sources have indicated that Chase Mulvaney was employed at this church and we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

After an incriminating silence and the sound of a closing door, Armitage spoke again. “Can I get you gentlemen anything?”

“No, thank you.” Said a cordial, but annoyed, Jack. “Mr. Armitage, what do you know about the Ministry of Truth?”

“Wait, hold up.” You interrupted. Hannibal paused the playback. “Is that an Orwellian reference?”

“That would not surprise me.” He conceded. “We already know he doesn’t understand satire.”

“The Ministry of Truth is a nonprofit that keeps the lights on around here.” Armitage answered.

“You have a very strange definition of the term ‘non-profit’.” Will added. “According to their most recent tax records, they funneled over ninety million dollars into this place.”

“We are very blessed.” Armitage said, dismissively. “It’s because of the Ministry of Truth that we don’t rely on our congregation for funds. We want to allow our family the luxurious spiritual experience they deserve at no cost.”

“But you still accept donations, do you not?” Jack probed.

“Well, there are extra expenses when you serve so many people.” Armitage rationalized. “The donations are really just investments into our community. Mission trips, vacation bible school, youth groups and the like.”

“Camp Big Brother one of those?” Will asked.

You and Hannibal shared a look of disappointment but complete non-surprise.

Armitage clicked his tongue. “Well, it’s a wonderful program for young Christian women and girls. About two hours from here, secluded, a perfect place to get away from the city to relax and focus on god’s true design for womanhood.”

“That sounds lovely.” Jack said without any real sincerity. “And they employ predominantly female teachers?”

“Err.. no.” Armitage answered. “Hence the name ‘big brother’. It’s a male-led program. Jesus says that men are to act as spiritual guides for the fairer sex.”

“I see.” said Jack. You could hear the contempt in his voice.

Armitage grew defensive. “Are you here to judge us for our religious practices? Because last I checked, the Free Exercise clause says-”

“I’m familiar with the constitution, thank you.” Jack stopped him.

His defensiveness turned accusatory. “Then why has the FBI sent agents to judge our expressions of faith?”

“Because Camp Big Brother doesn’t exist.” Jack countered.

A third long, incriminating pause followed. “Come again?”

“There are no records whatsoever of a church mission under the name Camp Big Brother existing anywhere in the country.” Jack explained. “The property does not exist outside of the walls of this church.”

“I thought you came to talk about Chase Mulvaney, Agent Crawford.” Armitage’s voice rose. “Whom, for the record, does not represent our faith. A real Christian-”

Jack cut him off. “I’d rather you not change the subject, pastor.”

“You are a guest in my church-!”

“Just tell us where Camp Big Brother is.” Jack’s voice hardened. “Tell us what Mulvaney is doing to those missing girls.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Sir, if you continue to deflect,” Jack warned. “I’ll have you arrested for obstruction of justice or worse.”

The click of a revolver filled the air. Both Jack and Will withdrew their guns in response. Another long pause.

“Hello, police?” Armitage said, faking fear. “A large black man posing as a federal agent is harassing me. He has a gun.”

“This is ridiculous.” Jack said, though not without a twinge of nervousness. “Put the--”

The recording abruptly ended in the middle of the sentence. You realized you’d been sitting at the same stop sign with your turn signal on for who-knows-how-long. You made the turn, then pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. You searched your entire vocabulary for words that weren’t just ‘fuck’.

“Fuck.” You said, failing entirely.

“I’m not surprised that this is bigger than Chase.” Hannibal replied, always one to approach fear with logic. “But that means it’s bigger than us.”

“You’re right.” You nodded, reaching for your phone. “Which is why we need a fail-safe.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yep.” You said, fingers flying across the phone. “Could you send me the address?”

Within seconds, you received the address and just as soon sent it off. A few minutes’ silence passed before getting a message back. “There we go.”

Hannibal glanced at your phone. “What’s the plan?”

“I asked Charissa to call me before she leaves for work at noon.” You said, putting your phone on the dashboard. “If I don’t pick up, she’ll send the address to Jack.”

“That’s a true friend.” Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Seeing that she didn’t even ask you why.”

You put the car into drive. “I’m sure she already knows.”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #hannigram #poly hannigram #will graham #will graham x you #will graham x reader #the sommelier #jack crawford #tw racsim #tw christianity #tw sex abuse

89 notes · View notes

mtraki · 3 years

Text

Brain chemistry is messing with me... got me in the bad feels looking at dark roads... So let’s try and drag ourselves out of it through hyperfixation! It’s time to rant about Agent 47′s brain chemistry-- specifically all the serums and antidotes that artificially change it! (It’s a rant... I won’t take up space on your dashboard scroll if you don’t want to see it, but if you do, please check out under the cut. Spoilers for the comics and Hitman Season 2-3 are unmarked...)

The focus of the rant is thus: “Exactly what did Ether’s antidote do?” ‘That’s easy, MT,’ I hear you tell me, ‘It brought back 47′s memories that were wiped by Ort-Meyer before he escaped the lab.’ Forgive me, strawman Reader, (but as always, thank you for your faithful engagement) but I don’t think it’s that simple... Maybe because I overthink things, or maybe because the details aren’t adding up... Let’s discuss. In the cutscene in HITMAN 2 (Hitman Season 2) ‘Long Shot’, Olivia and Lucas provide a syringe from Ether Biotech Corporation. According to their information, Ort-Meyer’s estate and his research were granted to the corporation (through Providence) after his passing. The syringe is supposed to be an antidote to what Ort-Meyer used to wipe 47′s memory. Using the syringe, 47 is able to remember Janus, the first Constant of Providence, so they can go get his info on the Partners... and kill him. ‘Yes, MT,’ you say, ‘so it’s easy. The answer is right there.’ Well, please bear with me... In the next cutscene ‘Gifts and Curses’, our leading ladies Diana and Olivia are doing the real work (tracking Janus’s coffin) while our lads are being moody. Lucas asks 47 if he’s all right and 47 says, “It comes back in flashes. Fear. Anger. But like it happened to someone else.” Later, in ‘Precautions’, Lucas and Diana talk about how Lucas has feelings about the things he’s done, and 47 does not-- a parallel is drawn between these feelings and “having a conscience”. In ‘The Ark Society’ mission, on the Isle of Sgàil, as you’re marching Arthur Edwards, the Constant you are abducting, to the harbor, he’ll fish around for information by giving some of his own. For the purposes of my rant, there is an exchange I want to focus on: Edwards: “...Your murdered him [Janus] to get to me.” 47: “Not just that. He had it coming.” Edwards: “Interesting. It was my impression that you were cured of such... sentiment. The ‘good doctor’ built his serum specifically to target the seats of your emotions. Has Miss Burnwood’s sense of justice rubbed off on you, I wonder?” This is where I feel the need to stop and point out that there are TWO DIFFERENT SERUMS at play here, that were forced on 47 at TWO DIFFERENT TIMES in his forgotten past. This is shown in the comic series. SERUM #1) This serum was given in 1989, after 47 and 6 failed to take over the Institute. 47 sacrificed himself so 6 could escape (though he was presumed dead) and instead of being killed like he expected, due to pressure from Janus (who spoke as Constant for the Partners of Providence) Ort-Meyer instead used a serum to stifle his and the remaining clones’ emotions. This one was an injection to the neck (like the antidote). Here are his exact words: “I gave you something most people lack: a true purpose. And you cast it aside. For some misguided dream of freedom. Why?” “It’s that storm inside you. All those feelings I fought so hard to lock away. Raging, driving you. So now I must wipe them out entirely. A small chemical insult designed to target the amygdala, the hypothalamus, the cingulate gyrus. The seats of emotion. I’ve just sawed the legs off them. Do you understand, 47?” “Your memories remain intact. But now they’re a series of events with no significance.” The effects of this serum were devastating. With the singular exception of 47, every other clone more or less lost the will to live. They died of starvation, dehydration, infected bed sores... losing any and all motivation for anything. Meanwhile, 47 became an apex predator of murder, stating that the opportunity to complete the assassinations handed down by Providence through Ort-Meyer were the reason he went through each day. He had a hand in the deaths of a good number of clones, either via poisoning or smothering. SERUM #2) This serum was given in 1998 (that’s nine years after the first one) after Providence demands Ort-Meyer give them 47 as the only success of his very expensive perceived failure. Ort-Meyer gives this serum, without the permission of Providence, very specifically so that 47 will not remember him to assassinate him. This serum is given orally, and through a hose and pump apparatus. Here are his exact words: “I only need one more day, and a moment alone.” (This is included strictly to point out that 47 must have escaped that exact same day) “I raised you as my own. Taught you everything you needed to thrive in this fallen world. And now I have to take it all away. You would come after me. It’s the only way I can be free from having to watch over my shoulder for the rest of my life. It feels like drowning at first. Don’t struggle. I’m going to make you perfect. Now you have all the potential in the world.” 47 wakes up later to the voice of Ort-Meyer over the intercom. He implicitly trusts the voice, as he knows nothing else. He knows about the existence of nothing outside of the room and the voice. He starts making associations as he goes on, and points out that he understands how some things work (”The mechanics of breathing, the science that makes remotely operated restraints possible.”) and the justifications behind their existence (”Somewhere deep down, I even understand the need for them.”). As he makes his escape, he observes that their is familiarity in the sensations of killing. Out in the world, he continues killing on his own for about a year, claiming that his work is his only indulgence and that he doesn’t need things, friends, or stories. He does also claim to have a few stray memories that haunt him-- elicit emotional responses in him (which we also see in Absolution with the whole “doctors” flashbacks). Edwards should not know about the mind-wiping, and his dialogue does not betray that he does. Lucas apparently knows about both, but I’m going to attribute this to “Lucas became personally invested in learning what happened to 47 specifically after learning he was alive and working for ICA, so put the pieces together once he stole the data from Providence” because he wasn’t around for either serum. Meanwhile, Edwards doesn’t have many reasons to worry about 47 until he starts trying to use his past as a lure for Diana. Because his angle is to eventually reveal that it was 47 (AND 6... they were on the job together, per the comics) who killed her parents, and the fact that that juicy reveal would hurt that much more if he could reveal it as something 47 knowingly hid from her... I don’t think he’d go out of his way to discredit Janus’s reporting on the situation that only the first serum was given, and something else happened that allowed 47 to escape into the wild. Janus is apparently Edwards’s beloved mentor, after all. ‘MT,’ I hear you say, ‘You’re rambling. What’s the point here?’ The point is that 47, a man who does not mince words, makes the observation, when asked, that he remembers fear and anger. These are the things that stand out to him in his memories. The emotions. This is in violation of the first serum’s properties as well as the second. Now, why is this happening? Perhaps the first serum has an effective lifespan, and perhaps it’s wearing off. Perhaps 47′s human (arguably superhuman, per some sources) brain is adapting to make necessary associations despite the “chemical insult”. Or... was this antidote supposed to also be an antidote for the first serum? It is noteworthy that 47 starts behaving in ways that suggest more emotionally-driven motivations after the antidote is given-- at least it seems that way to me. This seems especially the case at the very end of HITMAN 3 (Season 3), ‘Untouchable’, when 47 is confronted with his guilt, with his feelings about what he perceives Diana’s thoughts and feelings to be, and with his choice in the end concerning Edwards in the final confrontation. No matter what he chooses, he owns his choice and all the baggage and consequences that come with it. At the very end, in the cutscene 'New Deal', he tells Diana that he isn’t ‘Agent 47′ anymore. That he chooses this path because he can. Perhaps I’m very much misunderstanding the themes, here, but 47 not remembering his past never struck me as something that held him back from choosing something else. It has always been his inability to connect with others in any way outside of infiltrating their spaces and killing them... with very, very few exceptions... that has kept him from choosing a path outside of murder-for-hire (perfectly executed, of course ;) ) So I’m left at the end with the conclusion that 47 is now able to operate as his own conscience because he now has a... mostly usable independent sense of morality-- which requires a certain level of empathy. So... again: what’s the deal with the antidote? Is it two-in-one? This would be fine, (Okay, not really, I would then have to rant about how this only makes sense as a convenient plot device because for which person BESIDES Agent 47 would such an antidote be useful unless they also work with the first serum... and oh boy IMPLICATIONS... I know we keep crashing their stock but can we crash their production too?) except the antidote is only referenced as working to return 47′s memory... and his ‘warmer’ dialogues through the end of 2 and into 3 with his allies is simply treated as matter of course-- nobody points it out. I don’t know if this is a problem with my perspective, the writing, or what... But it seems like Lucas knows and doesn’t know about both serums at the same time (he comments specifically about 47 remembering things... but not him behaving more emotionally engaged)... Or like the games smooshed both serums together while the comics had them separate. This isn’t like the whole “we don’t talk about Absolution though we do wink and nod that it mostly happened in canon” thing. The comics were written as a companion for the HITMAN: World of Assassination trilogy! I know how I’m treating it for 'Monstrous’ (because if I don’t, I’ll go crazy and rage-quit the fic) but it still bothers me... Anybody got any ideas? Nuggets of lore I missed? Am I the only one stressing out about this??

#my mic #agent 47 #hitman #lucas grey #world of assassination #MT is ranting #I know I overthink #13th #April #2021 #April 13th 2021

29 notes · View notes

joojconverts · 3 years

Text

Check In Tag

Doing this little tag because I saw it on my dashboard from @murfeelee and I really wanted to do it. That’s pretty much it lol!

why did you choose your url?

Well, I just mixed JooJ (which is my username for almost everything on the internet) with “converts”... hum, that’s it.

any side blogs?

I know it sounds weird but no, I don’t have one. I don’t know, I just don’t feel the need to do one right now, not even a personal one. Anything that I want to reblog or share I’ll post it here on this blog!

how long have you been on tumblr?

Since novemeber of 2020, not that long ago!

do you have a queue tag?

I queue my posts, self reblogs and timezone reblogs. The rest is just at the moment!

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Some time ago I converted the dress that you see in the pfp (1841 Ball Gown, to be more specific) and I just liked it so much I wanted to dress one of my sims in it, and it ended up quite nicely in my opinion, so I made it my icon!

why did you choose your header?

It’s a beautiful baroque mural located in the Palace of Versailles! I don’t know, I just love renaissance and baroque art so much, It brings me peace, so I wanted it to be part of my blog!

what’s your post with the most notes?

My Robe de Cour Collection Reconverted, as it should, in my opinion hahaha!

how many mutuals do you have?

If I can be completely honest, I don’t even know what a mutual is and how do you know you have a mutual. Are that friends? People who interact with you? If that’s so, yeah, I have some!

how many followers do you have?

Right now I have 560 followers, which I’m very thankful for!

how many people do you follow?

108 at the moment! There are just so many good simblrs out here hahaha!

have you ever made a shitpost?

I never made shitpost, but I really laugh at some memes that I see exclusively on Twitter.

how often do you use tumblr each day?

Almost 24/7. I already noticed that sometimes an ask comes to me and I’ll respond it 3 minutes later. The person who sent me probably thinks I don’t have a life lol!

did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Yes I did LOL, with blvck-life-simz. It wasn’t just me tho, it was a lot of people involved too. I can say that we won, because they literally gave up posting and don’t do anything related to Tumblr any more, afaik.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

I completely understand people trying to raise attention to very important topics of our society, but Simblr is supposed to be a place where we can escape from those problems even if for just a little bit, to enjoy ourselves, post what we want, and see what other people are doing, especially with so many people (including me) already facing these topics daily. I’ll almost never “reblog this”, no.

do you like tag games?

I do, but as Murfeelee said, I also hate tagging people because I always forget some that I daily interact with, and right after I post the tag and go to my dashboard I go “omg, I forgot you??” for 15 minutes straight as I scroll!!

do you like ask games?

I do, yes, even though I don’t get tagged that often (as it’s the case lol)

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Uh... that’s very subjective but, I think a few? I don’t really care tho, I love everyone who brings something good to the table!

I tag anyone who wants to participate!

#tag #tag game

13 notes · View notes

frillshark-fr · 4 years

Note

How do you get people to always buy your dragons? Genuine question

i was gonna say something like “haha i have no fucking clue” but that would be a lie i think about this a lot actually so i might have some insights i’ve been breeding dragons as my primary activity on FR since i started playing FR (in 2014...) and people have only started actually buying dragons from me consistently like, 5-6 months ago, despite 2-3 attempts at running a genuine hatchery onsite that always died due to lack of interest & not really being worth the effort.

so ive thought a lot about what the hell is happening now and why my dragons are suddenly consistently selling and I think ive come down to these being the main points of advice i can give: 1. make friends! be friendly! don’t be weird! be a cool and fun person to interact with! 2. post consistently. post your dragons consistently. post about other stuff consistently. just be an active member of the community 3. POST YOUR SHIT IN THE “#FLIGHT RISING” TAG. THIS IS PROBABLY THE ONLY TRUELY HELPFUL THING I SAY IN THIS POST 4. make pairs that are sexy as hell and be openly proud of them. make dragons and pairs that you like, not what you think will necessarily sell. people can tell when you like stuff and being genuinely passionate about something, whatever the fuck it is, will get other people passionate as well longer versions/explanations under the cut because man this got a mile long. i wasn’t kidding when i said i think about this a lot and i am so sorry if you wanted something concise and useful

1. to be a little glib. i am mutuals/friends with more clout in the FR community than I do kjdshfdsfdhjhkfdf shoutout to everyone who draws their dragons really good on a regular basis because i am riding on your coattails to sell my dragons. i love you this was never my intent, obviously! DO NOT BEFRIEND PEOPLE BECAUSE YOU THINK YOU WILL GET STUFF FROM THEM IT’S JUST A REALLY BAD THING TO DO TO PEOPLE!!! i wouldn’t be friends w/ people if i didn’t genuinely like and get along with them! no amount of pixel cash is worth putting up with people you dont like or abusing people you admire! but i’d also somehow feel wrong to just... neglect mentioning this factor. idk it’s probably a self-esteem thing sjdkgfhdsf i just Don’t feel like my #success has been totally out of my own effort because its not like im #hustling or whatever i just posted dragons and stuff happened

-----

2. being consistent! just. posting consistently! posting Every Hatchling I Have and Talking About Them On Tumblr! Once I had a couple nests just sell super fast likely due to aforementioned clout, i was emboldened to just post more of my nests more often and I swear this has more effect than anything else. i just needed the self-esteem boost to Start Doing That posting consistently makes ppl follow u for ur content which gets even more people to look at your dragons which gets more people to buy your dragons.

2a. Also just post a lot in general, even if you aren’t necessarily posting about your dragons for sale. it definitely helps! just be friendly and active and people will come

-----

3. post your shit in the tag. not in “#dragon-sales” or “#fr-dragon-sales” or anything weird like that because I don’t know if anyone actually looks at those, but people definitely browse “#flight rising”. no matter how many followers you have, more people will see your content if you post it in #flight rising than if you just chuck it into the void.

3a. however! do not put links into the post if you want it to actually show up in the tag. tumblr is cool in that it doesn’t actually matter that much when you post something, the same way it really matters on twitter bc twitter has algorithms that decide for you what it thinks you want to be seeing whereas tumblr just shows you everything in chronological order. if you post something into the tag at 1am... it will still be there at 2pm when people log on and start scrolling.

the only thing tumblr seems to consistently hide from a tag (and possibly a dashboard, but idk) are posts with links in them, as a half-assed attempt to limit spam. instead of linking to your sales tab/to the dragons directly in the post, reblog it with the links instead. to reduce latency between a post going up and the links being available, i type out the links in the initial post, cut them, post the thing into the tag, then very quickly reblog, paste the links, and post the reblog jdhfsdf. i don’t know if that benefits anything really? but it can sometimes take me a while to type links, so if i posted, pressed reblog, typed up all the links, then posted, it’d be like ~15 minutes where someone may see the post, think “oh i would like to buy those dragons”, then can’t find the link, think “oh well, i will just find it later”, scroll on, and just... completely forget about it. so uh. go quick?

3b. the armchair sociologist in me also thinks self-reblogging has the added benefit of like... you know how people are more likely to tip a barista when a dollar is already in the tip jar? or how people are more likely to take one of those little tabs on a flyer if one of them is already missing? i think that works with notes, too. i don’t know why i think that or why it happens i just swear once a post gets 1 note, suddenly it gets Even More Notes, and if it doesn’t get any notes for a while it will sit at 0 notes until the end of time. so giving yourself 1 obligatory note makes people more likely to interact. i think

-----

4. all of these are hard to quantify but this one is especially so: have cool and unique dragons. make your pairs sexy as hell. don’t put all your eggs (hah) into the one basket of selling dragons that are technically “popular”. we have all seen triple white/triple obsidian/triple orca/triple any other popular colors and cherub/pere/stained or wasp/bee/glim pthahlos or whatever. they’re pretty! we get it! but everyone has had one and everyone has had those pairs and market for dragons like that can be super oversaturated. try to break free from that and sell dragons that people can only get from you. I can’t tell you what to do though bc that rly depends on you. make pairs that you find exciting or interesting and people will feel that. i have a very specific theme and aesthetic that i don’t feel like is especially common on FR and i am genuinely very enthusiastic about it. marine shit is my Thing:tm: both on and off FR and dragons are one of my many ways of expressing that if you have a Thing:tm:, either some fr-centric aesthetic (like being super into plague or earth or light or something) or something more general (such as any of the -punks or -cores)... just fuckin roll with it honestly. if you’re goth? make got h dragons. like scene stuff that looks straight out of a middle school in 2010? rock that hot-topic lair. outdoorsey type? make dragons that look like you’d meet them on a hike in the woods. it really works with anything! people can tell when you really love something and i know that seeing someone really love something, even if it’s not necessarily MY thing, makes me really excited too!!

4a. never show fear. people can smell fear. never be like “well this one isn’t that good” because suddenly now you’ve planted the idea that it’s ugly in other people’s heads when they may have really liked it had you not accidentally suggested to them that it’s an ugly dragon. people are EXTREMELY suggestible to even VERY minor cues so be always a little bit bolder than you think you should be you’d be surprised at how many times ive been like “eh, this one’s kind of a dud, i’ll probably have to exalt this one when the auction expires” and then that hatchling is the first to sell. never ever ever ever decide what other people like for them. always act like your dragons are the hottest shit in all the land and Believe It. this is what people mean when they say “fake it till you make it”

- 4b. also, idk if it’s true of everyone but it’s really off-putting to see someone having serious pity-parties for themselves, on sales posts or otherwise. ive had bad experiences with people who are uncomfortably quick to self-depreciate (because they were using their genuine self-hatred to manipulate me or my friends), so i might be a little more trigger-happy about avoiding this behavior than others, but don’t weaponize your sadness to guilt people into doing what you want. it’s really not cool.

-----

okay i think that’s my entire manifesto on how i do dragon selling. anon i am so sorry im sure you were expecting like “believe in yourself :)” and here i am dissecting dragon selling like it’s a frog in a science class

edit: AFTER ALL THAT I STILL THOUGHT OF ONE MORE THING. It’s not really a Point, just a Reminder:

i don’t post about all the times i have to exalt dragons that don’t sell. you are seeing me being very selective about what i post. you dont sit and stare at my lair or click through offspring lists or check old sales posts. there are a lot of times where someone just doesn’t sell. even now when i’m selling stuff pretty consistently i will still sometimes have dragons that don’t sell for seemingly no reason. even dragons I think are sure to sell will sometimes just... not. and that’s ok! you gotta just be.. ok with that. it’s par for the course. i typically list dragons for 7 days on the AH, give them a couple more days after their auction expires (partially because i forget, partially to give them a grace period for people to pm/ask me about them), and then exalt them after that point. w/ some dragons that i don’t think got a fair shake for one reason or another (such as the sales post not showing up in the tag or something) i do a little clearance (like the halloween dragons i recently posted) but for the most part if they don’t sell, i just exalt them. 90% of the time i don’t even bother to level them up i just press the exalt button and call it a day. it’s fine

#if anyone is interested i can make a post about my process for finding new dragon pairs?#i’d just include it here but this post is long enough as it is oo;;#Anonymous

39 notes · View notes

elriell · 4 years

Text

Going to answer a bunch of questions under the read more, since I took like 2 days off a LOT built up and I don’t want to flood anyones dashboards. If you sent a question in and have been waiting have a quick scroll and check! I will have to do two part I think ♡

Thank you and I apologise for the wait. I am just going to preface this for the future and say, I am not always going to be rapid at answering DM’s or Inbox, I do what I can, but I am not going to be on tumblr 24/7 and a lot of the times I am not on my laptop, I hope you can kind of understand and give me a little leeway! ♡

(That being said no one has been mean or impatient I am just super conscious of how long it takes me to reply... and I need to give myself some slack.)

Hey, I know for sure I have answered it somewhere but god knows where in the quantity of replies I have answered, if you are brave enough to have a look! I think it completely intentional on SJM’s part but definitely not for Gwynriel, if people think that scene (regifting and then reusing a thought) is romantic to each their own but that is not how it reads to me. I think as I said before, there is some projecting going on and it will definitely be explored in their book.

But in short, no I do not think reusing a line specifically using in Elain’s gift is a sign of Gwynriel endgame. But hey, that’s just me!

Oh 100%!!! They love chaos and I said earlier, unfortunately even bad publicity is considered good publicity. I doubt they care about the havoc, they are reaping the benefits of being discussed on all sides as apposed to just one.

If anyone thinks the fact that a large portion of the fandom hate Elain is going to discourage her I’d direct you back to three years ago when people despised Nesta and she still got her book and SJM did not give one shit that she was controversial, she even said in a recent live she wanted her to be that way, to ruffle feathers.

There is lots of buzz indeed!

This kind of goes hand in hand with the last one I answered but yes I think she knew it would stir the pot! I think it is very intentional, just as the subtle additions of say Emerie in ACOFAS had a few people in a tailspin though perhaps not as much.

At the end of the day SJM loves a good build up and twist, making the characters you are not expecting the big ones, Rhys obviously a big example, now Eris redemption ARC on the horizon. I think she cares little for what peoples judgements are because she know push comes to shove most those people though bitching will buy the book anyways.

(Example: The intense hatred for Nesta and now she is NY Times Best Seller)

She knows how to play the long game, this isn’t her first rodeo, shes created drama and tension, she has EVERYONE speculating and talking about it... Like I said it is smart business. We might not like the chaos but that is life.

Thank a million!♡ I am glad it has calmed you down, even if only a little bit.

I think everyone had that initial shock period for sure, but if you step back and actually read between the lines and compare it to her previous books there is not much to be worried about.

I am not sure about actually being related, hmmm, I feel like that would be a long shot. Though I do believe they will have a mentor/mentee relationship or something alike, the way those interactions were described felt that way to me personally. Although everyone will read a situation differently ofc...

I do think her connection to the Autumn Court, having red hair, and the random redemption on Eris are strangely in line. I think it is far more like she is connected to a Vanserra perhaps!

I don’t mind, go ahead!

Honestly I think I have answered this already in full here with basically the same thoughts as you, but I would like to add these two newer little posts that are also relevant to this question! THIS ONE ABOUT SCENT & THIS ONE ABOUT ELAIN !

I am so glad you too didn’t feel it was that big of a deal, I think moreover it is a bit of a whiplash because we have rarely any idea what is going on so outside of our own preconceived notions it was hard to pin point so unless we magically guessed right a lot was going to feel strange.

I am not going to lie to you I got that feeling reading Nesta’s POV in ACOSF just because our only view of her really was Feyre and it was so different inside her head. But different doesn’t mean bad, I think people need to give him and chance and more than one singular chapter!

I couldn’t agree more, I cannot wait to see his story and healing begin. ♡♡

Not that I have heard personally! Though SJM does have some siren pins on her board for sure, I have seen some Little Mermaid retelling theories that are sweet but I think that is more Gwynriel ship parallels than thinking she is actually a siren.

The only thing along these lines I have seen is the lightsinger theory! Hmmmm I definitely think there is something there for sure, something beyond her just singing well. I really need to do a re-read soon to see if anything was missed the first time round!

I am going to be honest with you, I have no idea. Like none, hahaha No theories, no recollection of when it occurs (I remember the line) just not when, so the context is a little vague for me... If I could remember when this was I might have a better idea, I am sorry! Perhaps on my re-read I will be able to answer better, or someone in the replies can for me!! ♡

Alrightyyyy that’s the first lot!

#m for ts #replies #acosf spoilers

14 notes · View notes

eutaerpe · 4 years

Text

maybe you’re the reason

pairing — jungkook x reader, jimin x reader

genre/warnings— college!au, idiot best friends to lovers!au, help jungkook is cute

summary — the most painful love story, aka idiot best friends to lovers.

notes — 2.3k words of the beginning. hope it still is worth your time? lmk ily

before

You faintly hear Jimin slapping Jungkook’s nape, a devilish smirk stuck on his lips.

“Are you actually buying condoms? Our little Kookie?”

A “Fuck off.” comes in response, and you can picture Jungkook scrolling his friend’s arm around him with boredom and too little strength, even though you’re not facing them—you see, there are far important matters in the world in this precise, excruciating moment. You eye the alcohol section with tight lips and a painfully light wallet, mentally doing the math and pondering whether you can actually buy twenty-two cans of beer with your pathetic budget. Perhaps you should abandon the quest altogether and focus on that good old big bottle of vodka in the corner. And chips. God, yes, chips.

“You know,” Jaehwan approaches them, head tilted, “I’ve always thought Kook would turn out to be a real heartthrob. All fucking ripped, full of tattoos and a big dick. The whole package, dude.”

Jimin snickers, clapping his hands. “Hey, never say never. He still has time to bloom.”

“I thought you all knew that my dick is the only big dick in this outrageous friends group, jerks,” Tae emerges in this aisle, drown in a white shirt too large for his small size and wide Bordeaux pants that will end up being the reason why he’ll trip and bring down with him Jimin. Jaehwan too, maybe, if he makes other dick jokes. You can bet on it. “Jimin can confirm it.”

“I can hear you, bastards.” Jungkook punches Taehyung, “And I hope you and your hands have fun for the rest of your life.”

“Ouch,” it’s your turn to chuckle and turn your head around, meeting your friends’ amused smiles, “That hurt.”

You stretch your legs, standing still for the first time after an intense ten-minutes session spent in front of alcohol bottles; placing both of your hands on the back of your shoulders, you make sure to crack them. Fucking finally.

“You might have an answer, then, y/n…”

Taehyung licks his lips, smirking openly. “Is our little Kookie—ah, how can I phrase this? Well, not so little?”

“How would I know?” you roll your eyes, moving towards them, “I’m not planning on seeing any of your dicks soon, thank you very much.”

His eyes sparkle. “But you’re planning to, at some point?”

You can’t help the smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, all stretched out and mischievous. “We’re currently betting on which one of you ends up sending their dick pics to the group chat first, and…” you almost close the distance between your and Tae’s body, “I’ve already bet on you, Kim.”

“Why,” he questions, smiling, “Desperate much to see me naked?”

“Not at all.” You shake off the pretend dust on his wide shoulders, all of this while his breath hitches, “I’m just the most likely to earn a hundred bucks by doing absolutely nothing.”

You pinch his cheeks, while Jungkook sneers, a pack of condom in his hands.

“Now help me grab these fucking beers.”

Despite being the end of July, there’s a calming, quiet breeze that makes you shiver for a second. You look back in the car, hoping to bump into a hoodie of sorts, even though the last time you checked, you didn’t bring one with you. Sucks to be one of the guys, then. You won’t say goodbye to a perfect night out on the beach because of a stupid hoodie, nope.

You hold onto the car door for a while, contemplating whose hoodie you’re gonna steal, when a warm hand brushes your arm and wakes you up from your musing.

“Thanks for earlier,” your soon-to-be buff friend says, voice just as warm as his body, “The guys can be nosy as fuck.”

You nod, slumping on the passenger seat with a sigh. “What’s the matter with buying condoms? At least one of you is having safe sex.”

“Right,” Jungkook grins, “It’s just that—I didn’t tell them?”

“That you’re having sex?”

“Yeah,” he nods, gulping, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Enough to tell them, of course.”

Jungkook palms the wheel, before glancing at you and closing his car door.

“I mean,” you begin, scratching your cheek, “It’s not.”

It’s not unusual of your friend group to have this kind of conversation—the lot of you was painfully open minded and honest it would have never crossed a mind of yours to stray away from topics like this. Like sex. Of course, some of you were the exception. Lisa, to begin with. Jungkook, too. The two of them laughed and smiled when you talked about sex related stuff. Relationship related stuff. But not because they were uncomfortable or… against it, you reckon. They were – are – the kind of people that keeps this to themselves. That doesn’t overshare, even when it comes to their best friends. It was – fine; cool, really, because at the end of the day you know you can count on them the same way they do on you. Any of you.

The thing that throws you off is—the fact that Jeon Jungkook is telling you this. Right now. You’re one of his best friends in the same terms he’s one of yours; that doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t, in the slightest, expecting this kind of conversation. For a trillion reasons.

“But Jungkook,” he looks at you with his doe eyes, “You’ve been dating for, what? Almost a year? We literally caught Chaeyoung blowing you two weeks ago. That wouldn’t surprise us, you know.”

“Yeah, but…” he trails off, eyes focused on the dashboard. “I mean, it doesn’t… it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“What,” you ask, quietly, “What doesn’t?”

“Me engaging in,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “Me having sex.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t. But people love to talk. And it’s your best friends we’re talking about. Of course they’re gonna be bitches and talk about you when you’re not there.”

“Jerks.”

“Horny bastards.”

Jimin closes the back door with strength before throwing himself on the backseats, legs spread, and head thrown back on the headrest. He sighs, passing a hand through his blonde hair.

You look at him with sparkling eyes, fingers fidgeting with the seatbelt.

“I’m not riding with them,” he begins, pointing his chin towards Seokjin’s car, better known as the Kim car, you think, squinting your eyes when the nth Kim person enters the very vehicle. You instantly spot Jennie spitting orange juice on both Taehyung and Jaehwan, and you chuckle at the sight. “Besides, Rosie is riding with you, right? This is my chance.”

“Yeah, hyung,” Jungkook replies, eyeing you with an uneasy expression, “You better make a move.”

“You said Chaeyoung won’t join us, right? So, we can make space for Lisa too. You know, I’ll make sure she’s comfortable with us. There’s gonna be her best friend with us.”

You frown, almost instantly.

Jimin rambling is a sight for sore eyes, especially because the last time you’ve seen him this insecure and giggly, adorable self was when you were thirteen and puberty still hadn’t hit him. At the time, Jimin was just a small guy that knew more about dancing rather than playing soccer or basketball or whatever kids his age were into at the time. He was shy and always pushed his glasses onto his nose and had just gotten a crush – it’s weird seeing him again like that almost a decade later. You’re about to tell him that, yeah, you consider yourself a decent friend for Chaeyoung, but calling yourself her best friend sounds a lot like projecting, anyway—

“And then there’s you,” Jimin says, prodding your shoulder, “It’s gonna be a female filled car. Does it get any more comfortable than that?”

Does it get any more uncomfortable than this?

Jungkook snickers, handing you two CDs. You realize it seconds later, when he’s snapped his fingers in front of your questioning face and has crooked his neck to look at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

His hand grazes your tight for a flashing instant, so prompt and light you would have missed it if your eyes weren’t looking at the friend on your left, his expression unfazed.

after

“You’re a jerk—” you start in firm protest, shutting altogether when his rough hands cup your clenching jaw. He nudges his nose with yours, pressing his lips against yours in a tentative, subdued challenge. His mouth is hot when you shiver under his timid yet dominant touch; the truth is you’re weak and seconds away from throwing your arms around his shoulders, clutching around his neck and tilting your head to grant him a better access to your mouth. You do that exactly, crumbling under his knowing touch, melting against the softness of his superficially raw affection, and you hate yourself for it.

“Jimin,” you start, when his mouth is on your neck, as he grunts your name against your skin. “I can’t—we can’t.”

“I,” he begins, swallowing a moan, “I cancelled every appointment I had this morning—”

“I’m talking about us.”

He furrows his eyebrows, biting back that hideous comeback of sorts ready on his tongue. There’s no us. What are you talking about. This is not what it looks like. You know all of them like the back of your hands. He’s either said them, voice like venom during heated, comforting nights or wears them on his sleeve. He might be kind, on a vague extent you’re not even sure about right now, but he’s not a liar. Not with you, at least.

Blinking once, you can see perfectly where he stands.

Somehow, even thought you knew, already fucking knew, this is it. This is how your heart shatters.

“We talked about this, though?” he looks for confirmation in your eyes, head tilted.

“Yes,” but that’s not enough, “But I can’t. Not anymore.” You try swallowing the lump in your throat, skin already freezing because of his body no longer on yours.

Jimin lies on your bed like that, half naked and now devoid of his safety net. You’re being an utterly, brave stupid right now: staring at him, the defined muscles you gripped many times before, you realise you’re letting go of someone you love, in a twisted way. A strangled voice in your head reminds you that you’re someone you love, too, and that has to count for something.

It’s worth a try, you think, his lips in a pout, trying to convince you; but, alas. He doesn’t bother, this time. He doesn’t ask you for mercy, doesn’t beg you to understand the situation he’s in. How this isn’t cheating, it’s a pause, she’s driving him crazy, y/n! He doesn’t ask for your time, for your body, for the warmth his supposedly wife-to-be should give him.

He gets up, reaches for his tee.

The silence is heavy on your heart. It’s a chant, now, the you’re doing your best, it had to be done, don’t cry—

He looks unfazed by all of this, grabbing clothes thrown all over the place, recollecting them slowly. He’s undoing his presence, deleting the evidence, reconnecting his pieces.

A part of you wishes for his goodbye, maybe a desperate love admission, but you know him, and if there’s something you’ve learned after all these years with him is that it won’t come out of his mouth.

You’re doing your best, it had to be done, don’t cry—maybe it’ll never come out.

He doesn’t look back: Jimin doesn’t turn around in his final steps towards your door. He reaches quietly for the handle, you can see right through your open bedroom door. Then, he nods to himself instead, waving imaginary goodbyes in his head.

Just like that he’s gone.

“I’m not saying you won’t miss his dick game,” Taehyung scoffs, stealing fries from you. “But, ouch, don’t punch me—I’m saying it had to be done.”

You sigh, playing with the sesame seeds in your plate.

“You know it. A wise side of you knows it, at least. Just because the guy told you nice things while balls deep inside of you it doesn’t mean he ever thought of leaving his fiancée for you. How long has it been, huh?”

“Since,” you scroll your shoulders, “I don’t know? Since they got engaged.”

“My point exactly. He gives her a diamond, they fight, they break up, he fucks you, then goes back to her crying and begging. Rinse and repeat, so many times until the other woman but not-really-because-we’re-on-a-pause---I’m talking about you, darling-- thinks he’s in love with her.”

“I know he’s not, Taehyung.”

“Smart girl,” he steals more from you, “Besides, in a couple weeks we’re going back home.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

He laughs, unlocking his phone. “Why’s that? I thought you were excited to finally go back. ‘S been a while since we spent the whole summer home.”

“Yeah, but that was before all of this. Why do you think I’ve never come back, all these years? I don’t wanna see Jimin showing off his fucking fiancée right in front of my face. My mother’s face. God. It’s gonna be sickening.”

“Huh.”

“Besides,” you begin, hurriedly, “Everybody we know is gonna be there—Lisa, Chaeyoung, Jaehwan… do I need to go on? Shit, Tae. You think anyone else knows?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Shit. I don’t know why I agreed to this. Maybe I can still do something about it. A ticket refund?”

“You so do not want a ticket refund.”

“Hello, idiot? Have you not heard me? Which part of—”

“Shit, Jungkook has abs.”

A pregnant pause. You eye the lukewarm soda on your side.

“I’m—come again, please?”

“Since when he has Instagram? And a whole sleeve tattoo?”

#bts #bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #BTS jungkook #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts scenario #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario

111 notes · View notes