#i cope with missing my own stories by drawing cute doodles of them. if i had the ability i'd make stickers

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

LET'S DO THE TIME LOOP AGAIN!

[laughing-with-god]

Pen Pal 1.5

Summary- As a lonely person, the idea of exchanging letters with someone apart from society was actually quite appealing to you.  In a random act of charity and desperation, you sign up for a pen pal and get paired up with an inmate named Jungkook.  The letters were meant to help him cope with prison life, but little did anyone know it was actually driving him more mad.

Warnings- Yandere/Prisoner Jungkook x Reader.  Mature themes.  Mention of mental disorder.

Words; 5.4k

“Have you ever felt so connected to someone that you didn’t understand why they were inside another skin and inhabiting a different body than you?”

He supposed that he should’ve been more displeased with where he landed himself.  

A cage of a jail cell that was six by eight feet and enclosed with brick walls that were so old, the paint was chipping off more and more each day.  The only entrance and exit being the harsh bars of the metal doors where a police officer could always be seen patrolling the passage ways, eyeing inmates with a judgmental glare as if he knew each and every one of their stories and how they were menaces to society.  

But if Jungkook was being true to himself, he couldn’t find any need to relate to his fellow prisoners fantasies of being in the outside world once again.

He had no desire to integrate back into society.  

He hated the world for a long time.

He hated how obnoxious and fake people were in the modern era.  He hated how capitalistic and money hungry the economy was. He hated how surface level and crude the general community was.  

From the time he was born, his peers would only approach him because they had hopes of being friends with the son of a rich power-broker.  

They would smile to his face and claimed to like him, but behind his back they would complain about how ‘boring and weird’ he was.  

Indeed, as a youngster Jungkook had been very introverted.  

He loved drawing, and this caused looks of confusion as most boys his age would enjoy a game of football or soccer more than doodling.  The only reason he got invites to playdates or birthday parties was due to his family’s social status. He was quick to catch on when his ‘friends’ would always push to go to his house, to play with his toys and to drop the Jeon name when bragging to other people about the ‘friendship’.  

However as Jungkook got older, the less he cared about such trivial matters.  As an insecure little boy, it bruised him quite a bit. But as an older teen, he accepted it as a harsh reality.  No one liked him for him, yet it wasn’t as tragic as it sounded. Because, he didn’t accept them for who they were either.  The world and Jungkook had a mutual understanding for each other. He despised them for it used him.

So when he went and got himself locked up, he really didn’t have that much remorse for what he would miss of the outside world.  The criminal psychologist said he had a problem with feelings in general; having a low emotional capacity for settings or situations but a heightened one for certain people in his life.  But Jungkook paid this analysis no mind. After all, how many different settings, situations or people can he encounter while serving a life-time sentence at one of the most highly guarded prisons in the country?

He did what he had done, and he was at peace with everything concerning the matter.  

When other inmates would rant about how they missed very basic things of life; non-cafeteria food, going to parks, having your own home and schedule, Jungkook didn’t care for the sentiment at all.  In fact, he thought they were weak to not even be able to handle prison. Really, how bad was it? You got a bed to sleep on, a toilet to shit in and was fed three time a day. With the way these fuckers ranted, you would’ve thought they were world war soldiers talking about home life whilst serving in the trenches.  Pathetic, really.

One day, Jungkook walked into his cell after a decent work out only to spot a pristine and angelic white envelope on his bed (more like a slab of metal with a cheap blanket on top but what did you expect of a cell?). This caused Jungkook to quirk a brow at the odd sight, he was pretty particular with boundaries and it annoyed him to see his roommate not respect his space.  

“Joon, I told you not to leave shit in my area.”  Jungkook motonously commented to his cell mate that was currently on the top bunk, book in hand.  This caused the older to peek from his spot above and glance down at the lower bunk.  

“Uh...that’s not mine.  Plus it has your name on it and everything, bro.”  

Jungkook sighed and pressed his tongue against his cheek in an angry tick that he had adopted years ago.  He really just wanted to head to the showers and he couldn’t imagine who would be writing to him. His family having disowned him for his crimes and everyone else having forgotten him or shunning his existence like he had the plague.  Not that he was too disappointed with these developments, he could spend the rest of his days without a word from anyone from the outside and he would still die content.

With a huff, he snatched the envelope and opened it with very little grace.  

‘Dear Mr. or Miss. Prisoner…..’

Jungkook’s doe eyes skimmed passed the delicate but noticeably rushed handwriting, soaking in the words with hesitance at such unexpected vulnerability from an utter stranger.  It wasn’t a long letter (Jungkook was finished reading it after 30 seconds or so) but he plopped himself on his bed to re-read the letter when he was done, showers somehow forgotten.

Said person who wrote to him managed to sound very weak and tired through diction alone.  However, this moment of weakness from the stranger was somehow not at all judged by Jungkook.  This revelation startled the prisoner himself, given that he had always made it a habit to look down on those whom lacked the mental strength that he did.  A fucked up social darwinism philosophy that was only heightened by being around meager sheep while he was a full on ruthless psycho. But why? Why did he feel pity this time instead of the usual disgust whenever someone was so bare and raw to him?  

The answer was simple.  

He related to you.

He felt as though you had put it best into words exactly what he felt when he was living out there in the public.  The world was scary and he didn’t blame you for being paranoid or locking yourself up. He could practically feel your fear from where he was; locked in a tiny cell and miles upon miles away from civilization.  He got the sense that you were different, like him. Most people he had encountered in his lifetime have always been okay with how the world was, not acknowledging the sinister characteristics that came along with it.  Authenticity was oozing from your writing as you did way more than just acknowledge the bad; you did your best to stay away from it all together. In a weird way, Jungkook found this cute. You were like a frightened child that hid under your bed to avoid the evil babysitter, escaping was your pure and innocent plan of action.  Which was different from Jungkook’s more violent actions….but he concluded he liked the contrast between you two. While you decided to take it out on yourself and starve yourself from stimulation just to keep away from the barbaric world, Jungkook took it upon himself to make everyone else pay.

“It it that stupid Pen Pal program?”  

Jungkook glanced up from the paper to see his cellmate hang his head from the bed above, watching Jungkook with questioning orbs.  Jungkook just scoffed at the upside down face and nodded.

“I just threw my letter away.  I heard they put all of us in that program because it’s a tax-write off for them.  It’s bullshit.” Namjoon told the younger.

Jungkook didn’t supply the other with an answer.  Instead he carefully folded the letter and placed it smoothly under his pillow. Then, he headed out to the showers while thoughts of what to write back to you filled his mind.  

--

‘Dear Y/n,

Well I would feel rather….accepting.  

I think you must be a very wise person to keep yourself far from the wretched claws of society…..’  

Jungkook tapped the capped pen against his chin, looking over his writing for any errors or mishaps before he signed off entirely.  

His letter was more in response to yours, after all you hadn’t given him that much to reply back to.  But still, some communication was better than none at all. Jungkook wanted to let you know that he understood your fears.  Hell, he even shared them with you. He hoped that you believed him when he told you that he also harbored disdain for your enemy.  And he also wanted to learn more about such a like-minded individual. Surely, you both had to have other similarities too, right?

He added the request for an image of you toward the end of his letter, just out of sheer curiosity for his long-lost twin. He didn’t care what you looked like but he wanted to scratch the itch of placing a face with the writing, knowing the urge to know would never go away until he saw your face.  

Other prisoners watched shocked as they witnessed Jungkook make his way to the mail room to drop off a letter to be sent off, knowing that he never made contact with the outside world.  

--

Jungkook found himself pacing his cell in an anxious manner, arms crossed and brows furrowed.  His stomach was tied into knots and his palms were clammy, hinting at one of the first times that he’s ever been nervous.  

He really was hoping for a response from you.  

He knew that it was very childish and sad to be so giddy for a letter, but he couldn’t help but get excited at the prospect of another note.  It was refreshing to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t a felon. Someone who wasn’t there in person yet still reached out to connect with a corrupt scanderal such as himself.  

Which is why when the usual mail carrier came down the cells, cart in hand with envelopes, pictures, money and presents for inmates, Jungkook found himself holding his breath and wishing for the first time ever that the carrier would stop at his cell.  

He had never been on the receiving end of such transactions, he had no one on the outside to look out for him.  But the faceless recluse that had reached out to him in a cry for companionship had fogged his mind, leaving hims restless and jittery.  

Could it be that he found a genuine friend?  

One that didn’t use him for his reputation (unlike his former childhood friends) and accepted him as the fuck up he was.  

“Letter for a Jeon Jungkook?”  The middle-aged man paused in front of the barren cell, sticking a pristine white envelope through the metal bars.  It was almost comical the joy that bursted through his chest and the way he leaped to attrive the holy piece of material.  As if it glowed bright in the grim and grey limbo that he was stuck in.

Not being able to withhold the anticipation, Jungkook quickly took the letter to his bunk and carefully slit it open.  

‘Dear Jungkook,

Words cannot express how thankful I am that you answered my pathetic call for help…’

The writing was noticeably neater than the first letter.  Jungkook noted with a smile how much longer this one was prior to the last.  The inmate forced himself to pore over every detail at a slower pace, not wanting to accidently skim past any vital information yet also wishing to savor the ritual.  

You seemed very blindly kind to someone who was a wretched crook.  In fact, you claimed to be very grateful to hear from little old him.  The feeling was utterly foreign, the idea that someone was out there that genuinely wanted his friendship, someone who genuinely wanted to know his most bland personal preferences, who was practically pleading for his written company.  It made him feel wanted. After some thought he decided that he quite liked the new feeling. Even at his worst; locked up for a lifetime sentence, you went out of your way to kill his loneliness. He almost giggled when you told him of the disorder that the world had labelled you with, it was awfully funny to him that you both were called mentally unstable.  You two now had that in common as well. He felt a sudden stab in the gut when you mentioned your sister. He guessed if he had to identify the emotion it would be closest to sympathy or guilt. He supposed he felt...bad for your loss. Jungkook smiled widely.

Yes!  That’s it!  He felt bad for you!  

God if the psychologist who said he had no emotions could see him now...

Towards the end of your writing, you mentioned not being a ‘looker’.  As if the paper itself burned him, Jungkook dropped the object with great haste to dig through the envelope.  You had sent the picture! He almost forgot that he even asked for such thing.

And there it was, a small 4x6 printed image of a lovely face smiling shyly at the camera.  

Your face was small and round, skin serene and creamy with its (porcelain/olive/honey/amber/cinnamon) hued pores that was the canvas for your darling features.  Your nose was benevolent and perched regally as well as perfectly centered amidst the sculpture that was your appearance. The bridge of the blessed feature dipped discreetly and softly, complimenting the luminous orbs that were vividly painted with a the crispest shade of (color) that he’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing.  The enchanting irises were artistically framed by magnetizing dark eyelashes that were as long as they were seductive. Somehow he just knew that the colors supplied by whatever commercial printer didn’t do the color-pads of your eyes justice, imagining the shiver that will go down his spine when he could be bare to them in their full and unfiltered glory.  They held a humane gentleness but still….a simmering witt was also bubbling under the surface. Overhead the eyes were carefully groomed eyebrows that were neat and shapely, one was elegantly arched in a expression of somber joy.

Underneath your nose was a pair of nectarous ruby red (or flowery pink) lips that looked perfectly cushioning to any lucky man who would have the chance to collide theirs with yours. Your pristine and snow-white teeth were barely poking out, show casting your shyness even when plastering on a friendly smile.  It’s as if you were unable to let yourself be one-hundred percent bare even in something as basic as a grin. He wondered what kind of mellifluous sound would erupt from such a devine cavern. Your (color) hair was sadly put up, unable to flow freely in the still-frame image. Even though he had very little to study, he still knew that he would want to (straight hair; run his hands through your silken strands) (curly hair; bounce the fluid swirls of your playful mane).  An odd urge to inhale the scent of your shampoo was what Jungkook felt next.

Lost in his own self-induced trance, he didn’t realize that he had been staring for so long until he felt a shadow loom over his figure.  

It was his cellmate and suddenly the infatuated man became all too aware of his slightly ajar mouth and his widened eyes that were stuck on the flimsy printed picture that was tightly held in his grasp (as if terrified that someone would steal the chef d'oeuvre...in an abode of criminals, this fear was somewhat relevant).  Quickly, he masked his expression to that of usual indifference.

“You’ve been sitting there staring for like eleven minutes.  You good?”

He just nodded, not a fan of frivolous speech or furthering conversation with people he cared none for.  Still, the fucker persisted.

“You sure?  Your girl didn’t send you something naughty or something, right?”  This was said in a matter of humor, an attempt to relieve the dark aura that Jungkook seemed to exude in every social interaction.  However, the serious face that Jungkook had on gave the other the impression that he had hit the mark precisely. Joon’s jaw dropped and an eager grin formed at the corners of his lips.  

“Really?!  No way! Can I see?”  The over-sized goon attempted to stride forward, hands already out-reached to grasp at the first smut he would’ve seen in a long time.  Out of primal instinct to keep what was his away from the snubby hands of others, Jungkook pulled back. But the fool had enlarged limbs and this meant his lengthy arms were very capable of plucking the picture off of Jungkook’s safe grip.  

Greedy, Namjoon ran his eyes over the photo.  His grin slowly slid off as he realised that it was indeed nothing sexual.  Nonetheless, his eyes lingered far longer than Jungkook cared for….before promptly returning the image to it’s rightful owner, whose jaw was clenched and teeth now grinding at the recent events.   

“Who is she?”  

“My pen-pal.”  Jungkook promptly answered whilst hiding both the letter and photo under his pillow before placing his head on it, staring up at the bunk above him.  

“Damn, if I’d know that I could’ve gotten someone like that….”  A brief pause as Joon climbed up his bed as well. “I definitely wouldn’t have thrown mine away.”  

Jungkook felt the familiar agitation hit him, tongue pressing against his cheek and he wondered if it was too late to request a cell change.  

The lights went out and ponderings of what to write back filled Jungkook’s mind along with the bewitching photo that was just directly under his head…

--

Opting not to go to breakfast, Jungkook stayed within his cell.

He elaborately printed his response back to you.

‘Dear Y/n,

I thought you were a very smart person but obviously not…’  

The inmate was sure to make you aware of how breathtaking you were, but also very careful in tip-toeing around just how gorgeous you were to him.  He could have written a dozen novels about your exquisite appearance alone, but obviously he was unable to do such thing. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep and halt all communication with him.  In an effort to get closer to you, Jungkook added some sentiment in regards to your loss, adding an anecdote about his mother for dramatic effect.

Now, it was time to fulfill your wish to see him as he had seen you.  

He had no problem with such request.  Not that he ever paid attention to such pointless gossip, but he had always heard whispers of how handsome he was.  Jungkook didn’t consider himself to be a little Fabio on any scale, but he knew he wasn’t hard on the eyes of the opposite sex.  The trouble was, how exactly would he be able to send a photo?

After a year in prison, you get to learn that there are two ways you can survive in such element.  You either adapt or you crumble.

The fittest of the inmates learned real quick how to make prison into their home.  Some men have been here so long that they grew connections and were able to bring some things from the outside world in.  

Jungkook made plans to visit one the older inmates, knowing that he could trade a candybar for a favor of sneaking a photo out to you.  For now, he folded his letter and placed it in the envelope, awaiting his picture before being shipped off to the mailroom.

--

‘Dear Jungkook,

…..I guess you’re not the worst face I’ve seen….’

Jungkook smiled as he fondly traced the words that you have written onto the paper only days prior.  He imagined your endearing face scrunching up into a thoughtful expression as you scribbled your response back to him.  You were funny and he couldn’t deny the sense of pride he felt when you admitted to his attractiveness. In the past, he never gave a fuck if people thought he was the next Ryan Gosling or the ugliest mug they’ve ever seen.  But he felt a weird sense of relief behold him when you said that you indeed thought he was good-looking. He didn’t want to imagine what he might’ve felt if you called him ugly or stopped talking to him after seeing his face.  

But that was not the best aspect to be seen within your writing.  

The best thing that caused his chest to erupt in a warm and fuzzy feeling was when you agreed that you also felt a connection between you two.  That you found him to be ‘marvelous company’ and you enjoyed his letters. This just confirmed his suspicion that you were somehow tied together.  That you two were meant to stumble upon each other in the most unconventional way. Jungkook was sure of it, that you two have defied the odds that cruel reality set against you ‘mentally unstable’ pair and found peace along with understanding within each other.  

Jungkook didn’t know how to describe you.  Surely a ‘pal’ wasn’t it.

You were like another half of him.  

Like you both have fallen from the same star and were unfortunate to fall on this damned earth. Surrounded by the bizzare ‘humans’ and called odd for not being one of their species.  Jungkook decided then and there that you two were mates.

And yes, Jungkook meant it in the primal and borderline barbaric ways that animals did. He would prove his worthiness as a male specimen, he would shelter and feed you, he would breed and produce offspring with you.  Regular people would look at this plan and consider it cave-man like, but he thought it was considerably more romantic this way. Animals mated for life and were not afraid to get murderous when someone threatened this sacred bond.  What was so wrong with such animalistic viewpoint? Humans were the worst type of creature and he was not at all interested in their fake way of obtaining a lover. And he got the sense that you weren’t either. Dates, chocolates, flowers?  How is it that those things were put on a pedestal as a grand show of affection but having a genuine connection with a person was not? Jungkook couldn’t strain his brain to understand such mindset.

This all left the forefront of his mind when he read to the last parts of your letter.  Eyebrows going up in surprise at the ‘P.S’ adage that was never before seen from you. His smile slipped off his face when he saw what you wished.

You wanted to know how he landed himself in prison.  

Now….that was a touchy subject.  

He really didn’t want to scare you away.  

You were too understanding, too alike to him for Jungkook to ever want you to run away.  He knew that no matter how much he could try, his crimes were inexcusable. Even the holiest of saints would hinder their forgiveness.  

Jungkook came to the conclusion that it would be best to tell a white lie until he had more of a connection with you to reveal the truth.  

Sure, he was utterly enthralled by you but he didn’t know how deep your affections lied with him.  He just needed more time to spin a perspective to fill your ear with, he needed to get his claws deep within you, he needed you to be as dependent on him as he was with you.  Jungkook decided to create a fake story to keep you close to him.

Jungkook smirked and grabbed a pen and paper for the next letter.  

--

‘Dear Jk,

My day to day is also lifeless, I’m afraid…’

It was lunch time and Jungkook sat alone in his usual corner of the table, mystery meat forgotten in favor of absorbing the new letter that you had produced for his addiction.  

The first paragraph had the psycho inmate smiling as he pictured you in your tiny apartment, dressed in comfy clothes doing the most mundane things.  He liked to spend his free time just imagining what your comfy ‘nest’ was like, picturing your tiny frame skipping around it. You sitting on a sofa, bundled up in blankets and one of his oversized sweaters, book in hand and steaming hot cup of hot chocolate in the other.  You in the kitchen, humming some tune in your dulcet voice as you attempted to make him a home cooked meal, frowning when you realized that you had not followed a certain step correctly like the cook book said. You laughing at the movie that played on the television screen while you both reach into the popcorn bowl at the same time.  What Jungkook wouldn’t give to live in the little nest with you.  To occupy the same cocoon that you created.

He often found himself fantasizing about being the brave one for you.  

The one who would go to the outside world on your behalf.  He would get you groceries, get a 9 to 5 to pay the bills, go out at 3 am to get you lady products or any random craving.  Wouldn’t that be nice? It would be similar to a caregiver role. Him taking care of you so you just had to stay your pretty self at home, keeping it warm and pillowy for his return.  You would be so thankful for his willingness to go out into your worst fear for the sake of your happiness.

But then, as the letter continued, Jungkook’s mood soured.  

Your mother had violated your space and made you feel awful.  

Jungkook felt rage in that moment.  

He never held so much hatred for someone he had never met before.  

He instantly knew that he didn’t like your mother.  

A piercing sensation thundered upon his chest.  The cursed image of your sweet face covered in tears fogged his mind’s eye.  

God helped anyone who fucked with you.  

Jungkook folded the letter and put it in his pocket, shoveling some tasteless cafeteria food to distract him the familiar hellish itch that screamed at him from underneath his skin.  

Later that day, Jungkook responded with a letter of his own.  

He attached the drawings that he had mentioned to you, somewhat bashful that for the past weeks all he had been able to draw was you.  But he brushed the feelings off and focused on another task; getting you to start calling.

He would often see inmates taking up phone booths, talking and laughing with loved ones from the outside for a couple minutes at a time.  Jungkook wanted that for you two. He wanted to hear the blessed voice that he knew you had, and he wanted you to become familiar with his as well.  After all, you would be hearing it a lot in your lifetime.

--

‘My Dearest Y/n,

I’m sure you must’ve gotten busy, why else haven’t you written in a week?’

Jungkook was slowly becoming irritated at the lack of mail he has been receiving.  It had been five days since you had responded and Jungkook felt anxious at your sudden silence.  You were a sweetheart and would never abandon him. You weren’t like those other wretched people, right?  No! You couldn’t be.

Jungkook shook his head and mentally cursed himself for even thinking that for a moment.  

You must have gotten busy.  

Maybe your mom didn’t give up on pestering you.  

--

‘My Dearest Y/n,

Where have you gone?  You haven’t forgotten about me have you?’

Jungkook couldn’t bear the silence.  He was slowly growing restless. He needed the stimulation that was your communication.  Without it, he had no new material to fill his mind. No new scenarios to daydream about.  NOTHING to get him through the day in the colorless cell that began to taunt him. He attempted to distract himself with the picture of you as well as your 

former letters that now had tear stains because of his new habit of crying over them, knowing they might be the last he ever gets from you.

--

‘Y/n,

This isn’t funny anymore….’

Jungkook was not only uneased, but now he was worried.  Thoughts of what could’ve possibly caused your silence now haunted his mind at night when he attempted to get what little rest he could.  Time was only worsening his growing paranoia each day that he didn’t receive a letter.

He knew you lived alone and had very little outside communication with anyone.  The main ones being him and your mother. Jungkook could only assume that your mother and you would be taking a break due to your mother’s mental breakdown.  And that left him. Stuck in a penitentiary with no way to reach you. He nearly punched the brick wall of his cell when he came to the realization that something could’ve happened to you and no one would’ve known.  If you didn’t answer this letter, he didn’t know what he’d do.

--

‘Dear Jungkook (or should I say Easter Bunny?)

I know what you did.

I know that you lied to me.

I know you’re a murderer.  

Friends don’t lie to each other, Jungkook.

I think it’s best if we find different Pen Pals.

All my best wishes, Y/n.

The letter fell to the ground as Jungkook stared in shock at the absurdly short and cold answer he got from you.  

He underestimated you.

You found out.  

Jungkook felt his temper flare as well as his breathing.  

He’d be damned to let you go.  

You were soulmates….couldn’t you see that?  

Jungkook never thought he’d have to rely on this but he had no choice.  

In the cell block, there were some people whom have been there for 30 years, and other for 30 days.  Prison 101 is to not fuck with the guys who had time under their belts. It was best to respect them and acknowledge that they have connections.  But respect was the last thing on his mind as he stormed into the tiny cell room of an old geezer whose been committing crimes since before Jungkook was even born.  

The older man was used to people coming to his cell, usually asking about how to get hands on a cell phone or how to get the precious kitchen duty to sneak food.  Over time, the man humored many childish inmates with some insider tricks. Almost everyone had talked to him at some point, but Jungkook was one of the very few whom did not approach him seeking an easier ride.  Thus, he was shocked to see the young and deadly figure swoop into the area, eyes dead and jaw clenched.

“You’re going to do something for me.”  Jungkook said this monotonously while maintaining eye contact.  The older man couldn’t ignore the shivers that went down his spine but he still acted calm, knowing you couldn’t show weaknesses to the younger and violent inmates.  

“Is that so?”  The older quirked a brow at Jungkook though the rusty mirror and went back to shaving his face.  The younger was behind him and just tilted his head and stepped forward, still staring at the man through the reflection of the glass.  

“You are going to sneak me out of this joint.”  

This caused the older to laugh, not believing his ears at such a ludicrous request.  

Jungkook came up behind the older, mouth close to his ear and eyes lifeless and inky as they held the older’s through the mirror.  

“Listen here you senile fuck, I know that you know who I am and what I did.  It’s your best interest to listen to what I tell you. Would you like to hear a secret?”  The petrified and frozen man nodded, not having the balls to disobey or look away. “I never told the jury that I didn’t murder those people on my own….I had a partner.  A partner who is still out there and would surely take care of your pretty little daughter I hear you talking on the phone to.”

Jungkook smiled as the man grimly agreed to do whatever he wished.  

Now, he just had to inform you of his upcoming arrival.

--

‘My Dearest Y/n,

I see you found out about the nickname the hideous press gave me.

Well….this type of revelation is best talked over in person.  

I’ll see you soon.’

Author’s note; so....both JK and Y/n have mental problems, just to clarify.  Also, this wasn’t part two bc I think of this as just the other half of part one.  There will still be a part two and three.  Please let me know what you thought bc a full inbox makes for a happy writer.  It’s challenging to write for a Y/n character bc the point is for you guys to identify with her in the story and I wanted you guys to feel like you truly are her so when I did the part where Jk becomes very obsessed with the pic, I wanted to add details but obvi not everyone has the same characteristics so I added diff options...pls let me know what you thought of this.

[bluedaviau]

「 cherry. rachel hilson. cis female. she/her. 」 are you ready for the time of your life, BLUE DAVIAU? the TWENTY ONE year old FINE ART graduate from tulane is ready to HOT AIR BALLOON  in DUBAI this semester. close friends would describe them as IDEALISTIC and CREATIVE, but there’s really only one way to find out. get ready for what august has in store for you, BLUE ! 「 pepper. twenty one. est. she/her. 」

ABOUT THE MUN.  the 2000 claymation film chicken run radicalized me

what up, i’m pepper, i’m twenty four, and not to flex but i’ve had writer’s block for two str8 months !! but i’m hoping to change that right here right now with one ms. blue daviau so thank you for coming on this journey with me friends it’s gonna be wild. a bit about me is i’ve gone to the mall literally every day this week and honestly, i am Exhausted from it so i apologize for the mess this intro is about to be. i’m a taurus with a libra moon and libra rising so do with that information what you will. my favourite pokemon is mewtwo. growing up i had a massive crush on danny phanton and ben 10, like i loved those lanky boys that could transform to fight crime for some reason?? i can’t tell you why. also when i was a child i thought god looked like king triton from the little mermaid. alright that is enough about me, moving on to blue. 

BIO.  if you use my coloured pencils you better put them back in rainbow order

this is going to be the short version of her bio but if you want to see the long rambly messy version you can find my google doc/app here ! which i recommend you looking at for no other reason than to see how cute the little cherry doodle i inserted in there is. it took me so long to get that in there and looking cute. it’s baby’s first fancy google doc 😌 anyways sdjhdsjh 

blue was born and raised in hawaii! her mother, stormi, was miss hawaii state at one point and her father, reggie, was a pro surfer! however before blue was born her father had a surfing accident that left him in a wheelchair. he turned to art to try to cope with the trauma of this accident and the reality of never being able to surf again, and he even opened up his own gallery! his gallery became a tourist attraction in hawaii and pretty well known in the art community and after passing down her crown blue’s mother became a news anchor. so the fact was blue was the daughter of two local legends in hawaii and the expectations were high!

not to mention the fact that all of blue’s elder siblings were amazing too. blue has five older siblings and all of them are successful in their own right and in their own niche. they’re also all named after colours funnily enough. the daviau parents had big hippy energy in case you were wondering. 

so growing up blue was always just kind of the ‘other’ sibling. all her older siblings had showed their talents at a young age and grew into them pretty quickly, while blue was just kind of... there. she was an artist, but she wasn’t a groundbreaking artist. she could sing, but her voice was simply pretty, not lifechanging. she could surf, but she was average at best. to put it simply, blue was the daviau sibling who wasn’t at all special. which ironically, made her stand out like a sore thumb. 

blue didn’t mind too much though, at least not when she was younger. she kept to herself anyways. all blue wanted do when she was younger was read, draw, and explore hawaii’s wild life, so she had everything she could possibly need to be happy right at her fingertips. life was good for her despite her inadequacy, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of it (and wouldn’t develop a complex about it later).

when blue was six though her parents decided that they needed to have sweet, sweet, baby number seven to save their marriage. they named that sweet boy gray. he did not save a damn thing, but he sure was cute. blue was eleven when her parents finally divorced and that pretty much marked the end of blue having any kind of parental guidance. 

long story short, both of blue’s parents went kinda buckwild the moment they were single and most of the responsibility to take care of five year old gray fell on blue. blue was the one to make gray’s meals. blue was the one to give gray a bath. blue was the one to tuck gray in at night and get him into his school clothes in the morning. blue was the one to help him with his homework and hold his hand as he crossed the street and honestly pretty much do everything for him until she was about seventeen. both her parents simply checked out on that front, and it the end blue was more of a mother to gray than either of their parents were. 

the pressure of having to not only take care of herself but also gray when she wasn’t even legally an adult yet, was honestly way too much for blue. her anxiety skyrocketed, and the pressure she put on herself only grew. the only way blue could really cope with it and calm herself down was by 1. losing herself in nature, 2. drawing, or 3. reading, or rather most likely, doing all of the above at once. using art of an escape pretty much guaranteed that blue’s love and passion for it grew, and with that her talent for it. by that time blue was seventeen she had a full portfolio ready to send off to any university outside of hawaii that would take her. because you bet your bottom dollar your girl was getting the hell outta there!

as we all know blue got accepted to tulane. it was hard to leave gray and her family behind, but blue set her mother and father straight before she left, ensuring that gray would be well taken care of in her stead and hoping that some distance between herself and her family that was so dependent on her (her mother never new how to cook so blue made all the meals, her father never knew how to handle gray so he was always coming to blue to advice, gray was absolutely lost without her, etc) would lift that pressure off her shoulders. 

it didn’t at first. the first few months were tough with all the calls blue got from home. that plus the schoolwork she had on her plate almost left her more stressed than before. however, slowly the calls began to fade and slowly blue was able to put her full focus in her art program, and later, her animation programs. 

sorry folks my brain is fried, we’re gonna stop here!

HEADCANNONS. on all levels except physical i am sitting on top of the moon with my legs swinging back and forth

Blue’s father is in a wheelchair from the surfing accident that made him take up art. His past as a professional surfer is actually part of the reason why his gallery is so popular though honestly, because the accident was televised and after that tragedy many of his fans and the public wanted to support him. He just also so happened to be really talented. But yeah, Blue’s father was really talented at surfing, he was even invited to the summer olympics in the nineties! But he was also the type to refuse to go because ‘surfing should be freeing, the olympics have so many restrictions, it takes away from what surfing is!!’ dkjsd he was that type yk? I also imagine Blue’s parents were the type to be on the front lines at protests. As it is, Blue is the same, very passionate, definitely has made some bomb ass posters and t-shirts for every women's march she’s attended.

Blue can play the ukulele really well and she honestly has a really pretty singing voice. However she can’t dance even a little bit. Honestly, she could literally break a bone. Really wants to throw it back though 😔

Loves to bake and cook because they’re relaxing activities with built in rewards. Learned to bake and cook because of having to take care of herself and her brother's meals when she was younger, that is if she didn’t want them both to literally get diabetes. As it is though, now that she doesn’t have to worry about her baby brother’s diet as well as her own, she will make a whole chocolate cake just cause she’s a little stressed and proceed to actually eat it. But she will share though. Catch Blue coming to your hotel room with sweets.

All of Blue’s elder siblings are adults now, but Gray is still about sixteen. They exchanged letters from Hawaii to Tulane and Blue always spends hours decorating hers and including little snacks and cute little knick knacks in them, despite the fact that Gray is now an angsty teenager and does not find these things as entertaining as he used to. Despite that, they are definitely the closest out of their siblings for the most part.

Blue’s siblings' names are Sage, Jett, Jade, Ruby, Rose and of course Gray. Jade and Jett, and Ruby and Rose are both twins.

The type to cry easily honestly. Also the type to carry other people’s problems with her. Like if you tell Blue that someone hurt your feelings last week she will remember and she will check on you the next time she sees you. Very empathetic, almost to a fault though because she’s constantly being careful of everyone else’s feelings rather than her own. The type who’s a good listener though. Also the type to give either really good advice or really odd advice.  

Art still tends to be her happy place, something she got from her father. Trying to find her own place outside of her father's shadow. She wants to get into the world of animation and cartoons but the whole task is a bit daunting. Is planning to work her ass off for it though! Spends a lot of time in coffee shops storyboarding and making animations. I think she may have a contract going on with a cartoon network of some sort, like they may have picked up a show of hers? Because I imagine her putting out some of her first shorts on Youtube and that might have gotten a bit of attention and led to her getting a deal for a show, so. She’s probably working her ass off towards that, and is honestly probably 1.doubting if they really picked up her show because of her talent or her father’s name, and 2.wondering if she can really do this.

Loves water in all shapes and forms. Since she can’t go to the beach everyday, the small bath in her tiny ass apartment??? Suddenly heaven. That said, Blue is either terrified of the ocean or loves it and I can’t decide which. Standby on that.

Makes a great coffee cake. Like it’s to die for.

Is VERY passionate about the environment. Is a pescatarian. Goes to the farmers market to pick out fresh produce. Loves to hike.

Always has the urge to sketch or paint after she reads poetry or novels. Highlights her favourite bits and has the tendency to read them over when she’s sad. The parts she loves are usually the parts that leave her wanting something.

Draws when she’s sad too. Claire Saffitz energy when she’s cooking but also just through life. Very friendly, but an introvert when it comes to gathering her energy.

Lives for libraries and bookstores, and has stacks on stacks of books in her old apartment. Loves old children's books honestly, like The Secret Garden, and poetry. Like whimsical and fantastical fiction with flowery words that just brings you to another place? Blue’s freaking jam. Falls in love with someone in fiction every five days, and desperately wants to be in love in real life, hence all the tinder dates and blind dates. I don’t think Blue ever has fallen in love though, like not really.

An absolute baby when it comes to the cold. Literally there could be a slight breeze and Blue will be acting like she’s suddenly in the arctic.  Any cold destinations will be greeted by a bundled up Blue’s Clues.

Made her first painting out of her own feces at six months old. Her parents proudly framed it. It’s probably still up in the attic in their Hawaii home.

Won her first art show at six but was unsure whether it was because her art really was something worth awarding or because of her father’s name. The award got her on the front page of the Honolulu Tribune but with her father proudly at her back and the title ‘Following in her father’s footsteps’ above her head. Blue just wants to find her own footing in the art world, and be her own person.

Keeps a journal and has since she was a teenager.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. i’m the friend that needs help opening water bottles. 

coming to theatres near you soon!

[working-on-becoming-a-better-me]

Day 253—Mar. 23, 2021

Okay, so the numbers for my previous consecutive posts were off by a day (like a day ahead) and February 7′s math was way off, but I googled this! so from here on out, we will be accurate! let’s go bois!

BIG UPDATE BOIS! Essentially? I’VE GOTTEN BETTER! Mental health is better, habits are better, outlook on life is better, productivity... isn’t as high as it was when I first started the blog, but it’s doing MUCH better than November and even January.

coping with minecraft:

So, I’m still addicted to the dream smp minecraft fandom. my friend got me a dream hoodie, bucket hat, and a georgenotfound hoodie for my birthday. but! I’m coping better. I’m behind on streams, and am now catching up during Spring Break. For a while, I was pushing back school work to watch and catch up on streams. I promised myself that during free periods I would work since I was catching up on streams at home, and then... yeah. ANYWAY! I’ve gotten a lot better at that recently by noticing that even fanart accounts (accounts dedicated to mcyt-ers) were talking about how they didn’t watch a phasmaphobia stream because they weren’t interested in it, or talking about how they were behind on streams... it really helped me accept the fact that I can be a real fan and not watch every single stream.

cultural convention:

My international school does events with other international schools but because of covid, we can’t travel. I act and made varsity drama (we call it a different name, but yeah!) and we had virtual conferences. I was incredibly friendly and loud and there were tons of zoom calls. Our schools kinda known for being... uh, stuck up? and kinda elitist. Not like I was being fake, but I was making an effort to talk during calls and be active on group chats made. I joke-flirt a lot and focused my attention on one person. A whole thing ensued, but some of the other actors in my school (there were only 11 of us) were joking abut sending me to “horny jail” and one girl kept apologizing for me. During “lounge sessions” I would interject with what I thought were funny comments and she’d say “again, I’d like to apologize for her behavior” and... uh... I cried at school. Cuz I’ve heard way too many times from too many different people about how I’m embarrassing... BUT.

What really helped was the fact that there were late night zoom calls and I was one of only three kids from my school the first night on a call with around 25 people. Other people said I helped give them a really good first impression of our school, especially considering all the things they’d heard previously. The guy I joke-flirted with (I previously dmed him asking if he was okay with it and he said he was) said on a call that I was one of the funniest people he’d met in a while. It was a huge confidence booster in knowing that the efforts I was making were paying off :)

confidence:

Since starting this blog, I’ve been trying to be nicer to myself. I’ve been practicing more positive self speak and have recently realized the difference between the way I speak about and to myself and how some other people do. Being nicer to myself out loud has helped a lot in feeling better and more comfortable.

I wanted to try wearing black masks, but my mom bought the wrong kind. They had patterns and I was really nervous because I didn’t really want to stand out. I used to not care, but... I dunno. Teenagehood and whatnot. We wear uniforms too, so the only differences are in accessories, hair, etc. I’m not sure why, but I was really nervous to wear the new mask patterns to school. But I told myself it was an experiment, to force me to be more confident. I actually forgot I was wearing it until I saw myself. And since I’d posted on my private story saying I was doing this to try and be more comfortable, some of my friends came up to me and told me it was actually cute. Shows that I really had nothing to stress for. Not that it was really self-expression, but for me, and anyone else who needs to hear this, no one cares. Maybe they even wish they had the courage to wear different things as well.

mcyt mantra:

I have a mantra now! adapted from something drunk Wilbur Soot said during Quackity’s livestream, I think. I repeat it when I’m happy and when I’m nervous or scared and I guess... I dunno, I’m like classically conditioning myself? Except not really since I’m doing it out of order. But yeah! get yourself a mantra!!!

character day:

more with confidence! spirit week is just an excuse for kids to not wear their uniforms, but I put a lot of effort into an Ace Ventura outfit I put together. I only saw around two or three other people actually dressed up as characters, but I had so much fun and thought I looked amazing. I was proud that I wasn’t a normie ;]

Also... it’s so humid in this country and the rubber bottoms of my boots actually stuck to the pavement and fell off. I spent the day without the bottoms of my shoes and it was so funny. Even my mom laughed after (she laughed for so long, it was adorable) and she said only I could pull it off and that the friend I walk to school with everyday is lucky to have me as a friend. My mom was telling me about how she never had a friend like me growing up, just so weird and goofy. And it made me happy to think that I can bring so much... zaniness to people’s lives

ao3:

been writing a lot more recently! haven’t been posting on my writing blog since it’s all fanfiction, but it’s helping me write! I update one of my stories every two weeks. When I feel like I’m not doing enough, it’s a nice reminder that I actually can be consistent. I may be getting better... who knows :)

nehs:

been editing lots of papers even though I don’t need to anymore since I made vp of my school’s nehs chapter. but it’s helping me learn too! I’m very instinctual when writing, but obviously when I’m editing I can’t just ask them to change something because “it doesn’t sound right”. So I google explanations and then tell the people who’s papers I’m editing. It helps both them and me!

ipad/drawing:

got a new ipad for my birthday. been messing around with procreate. been doodling in class (only dream team characters so far lol). might be getting better... hopefully I am!

also have a sticky notes app on my ipad and been creating to-do lists! yay!

teaching:

been teaching students in cambodia! last year I had a teaching partner who guided lessons mostly. this year I’m the leading teacher. It’s helping with my fear of leadership and responsibility.

social:

still not the most social, but more active on snapchat now with keeping in contact with some of the cultural convention kids. covids made it harder to keep in contact, and I’ve been trying to reach out more to my closest friend who I’ve not hung out with in a while. not that we don’t see each other at lunch every other day, but I walk to school with, share a class and after school study hall with another friend. so comparably, I’ve spent less time with my closest friend.

recently had a spa day with my small neighborhood gang! my friend painted my other guy friend’s nails! yes! we used face masks as well :)

general update:

- went to the pool the other day and now I’m hecka burnt

- yesterday I wrote letters for honor society points, caught up on math hw, wrote a reflection and plan for a class, reviewed chinese with my mom, met up with my “mentor” for a class

- have been helping a lot of people! am currently a part of two people’s pieces for their theater class and I have a rehearsal later today!

- was doing a lot of work as an officer of thespian honor society—I’m likely going to be on the officer team again next year and, until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t felt like I’d been doing much and was feeling unworthy. but then I was proactive about something and updated our sponser (school’s drama director) on what we as officers decided. felt... prettyyy goooodddd :)

- !!! yesterday I went on a walk and brought money and my student ID, ready to buy bubble tea, but then... I mustered up what little willpower I had and then didn’t buy it. Instead, I bought surprise lilies for my mom (and some groceries she asked me to get)   - been trying to cut out unnecessary sugars and foods. if I’m not hungry, I shouldn’t eat, but also... I listen to my body and if I’m feeling really snacky, I’ll indulge   - recently been craving ice cream, but not the flavors in my fridge so instead I’m just not eating ice cream at all and ate an apple once as a substitute :D

- not sure if I’ve been sleeping more, but it kinda feels like I have been?

- started taking pictures of the world when I think it’s pretty one sunny afternoon when I was laughing lots with a friend... especially right after cul con, I was taking a lot more pictures...

- just been more active (not physically... though occasionally, when bored, I’ll stretch some... but I should try and get more active (I mean... the walk yesterday?))... creatively speaking (ao3, with art), socially online (cul con kids), in person (making plans over spring break!)...

- I just feel like I’ve been putting more effort into life

of course, there are the down bits, like for one project based class where the end product is due in May-ish and it focuses on the “process”... I’m just... not... process-ing. I chose a writing project (why). I’m focusing a lot on my side projects, but not my class writing one :/ as well as that, when assignments pick up, I do too, but when I get down time I feel like I deserve it (which I do!) but I don’t work ahead. I’ve been really busy though. Teaching got cancelled because the school in Cambodia shut down unfortunately due to covid. But before spring break, I was teaching, editing papers, writing my own for lang, doing cul con and then catching up on work I missed because of cul con, studying for tests, attending rehearsals... there’s a lot going on and I need to recognize that I am doing so well, especially compared with a few months prior when I was in a much darker place.

mostly stress has been my plague, but yeah! also in the span of one week, two classes bumped up a grade (or half a grade... we have letters and + system (no -)) so my previously low gpa became slightly less low! It gave me confidence that I can end the semester strong!

procrastination: another plague. I keep delaying setting up college counseling meetings and have delayed this update for a while now... and the project-class...

also have babysitting jobs again so we gon get some monnaayyyyy! (job is not from people we met at the pool, but we did meet people at the pool and their kids liked me so much they asked me mom to get me to babysit them... another boost to confidence! yay :) I’m a likeable person :] )

thanks for sticking around! I’m glad I’m getting this update in because I’m doing... really well :D hope you guys are also doing well or that it gets better!