#she kept it for me bc we lived in different countries lol. and how my father despite having money for it did not buy us tickets

[imageofvoid]

Every time I see a dollhouse I’m reminded that my grandmother on my fathers side had a beautiful dollhouse she maintained for me and was constantly buying new items and sending me pictures and was there for me when I visited her and when she passed away my father simply got rid of it

[havethetouch]

Back on my bullshit because now that I have a longer vacation going on I can tackle this again, this time with feeling. Also I had a break in between bc I remembered and forgot to mention that I was out and about for almost a week living in a flat to babysit animals while their owners were out of the country but I had been yearning for the ceiling. After Time got away from me a bit got brainfogged suddenly realized it is September already wtf. If I hadn't liveblogged the ceiling shenanigans I might've misremembered when that started too. Anyway.

Previously on Touch's ceiling shenanigans

And right now we are here:

Ceiling skeleton. The support beams are all askew as fuck and jammed into the the walls on both sides. I have thermal plastering ready for it's call to action as one of the walls with the holes is an outer wall and the cold will crawl through and try to get me without proper insulation. I am also currently busy with removing everything that has been lying about in this room (before it was the storage room for when I freshly moved in so a lot of stuff just.. floating about) because the crossbars do not inspire confidence in me that they will not drop weirdly when I loosen them up lol I also bribed my auntie to take me a few villages over (I do not have a car) to get some more supplies for the removal of the distemper paint and shit to seal of cracks were the ceiling and walls meet. Also... there is a cable duct in the corner right over the space were the oven will go and I figured it might be for the best to pry open the wall to sink it and for that I needed a different kind of quick-drying plaster which was also acquired. And then I thought yeah well, get some of those parquet mini fix thingies.. you know the idk how it is called but basically there are some scratches and dents in the floor in need of some TLC and I know how sanding down parquet and resealing it properly works but I also know how much time and shit that takes and I might at some point say "it is time" but it ain't this year or the next for sure. So mini fixes it is for now. I also have a different endboss now in this entire thing because see... I have a second door in this room to the outside of my driveway. I just have this second entry point to my abode which will be very handy once I work with some of my materials that need a lot of ventilation and shit. But anyway so... Somewhen in the past there was flooding I know this there is plenty of visible evidence of it all over my home that there went water were it was not supposed to go. But nowhere is it more apparent than this door.

There used to be parquet in between (it's a double door) and just look how fucking thick my outside walls are fucks sake and my dad removed that because it looked like one step away from having you meet the underside of the building and filled that all up with concrete but nothing more than that. I think he wanted to seal the doorway up permanently at some point and I am glad he didn't because I adore the second entry point. But yeahhh this is a bit of damage. I misremembered how much bc I had to temp seal this off for a bit because mice kept sneaking through these two doors into the house last winter along with the cold. So it kinda slipped my mind how rotten the wooden frames are and how even the concrete on the sides is all fucked up. Got some work ahead on that one. There is also a massive black spider somewhere in the woodbeams that I only caught a glimpse of before she scuttled in there and at some point we will probably make eye contact when I remove the rotten wood :')

And yeh this is no longer just the ceiling but like I said, am on vacation now so I try to get everything wrapped up soon and that includes this entry door along with the floor. Cross fingers the spider does not jump me she looked like she could beat my ass.

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[onsunnyside]

On this episode of am I an asshole:

So I introduced my neighbor best friend, and my best friend of 8+ years in my birthday party, and after they met each other, they started hanging out when they were in my home country (bc they're from the same city and I'm not), my neighbor said I was pretty bored and she(my best friend) was there so we can hang out, and I was like "no it's okay you can hang out with anybody that you want, I can't control you"

And then they came back to the country/city tht we live in (dubai), they continued hanging out but on the days that I couldn't go (I don't go out on fridays because it's weekend and it's family day) so i rather spend my time with my family.

So they hang MOSTLY on Fridays, and whenever they wanted to plan something for any other week days, they always plan to go to Bars and clubs tht are 21+ which non of us are 21+ except my neighbor who is 23. And i was like scared to get caught because it would go on my "crime list" and it would have affect on my college scholarship.

They're like 24/7 hanging out right now and they don't even bother to tell me, so i got to hang out more with my other best friend( lets name her best friend Y). And me and Y are like soulmates, we were always close, we're also friends for a long time, she is pissed too about how our friends are acting right now. So we started to hang out with out tell our other friends( my neighbor...) and they got pissed that we dont tell them to hang out with us. Like literally one time my best friend called me and she just yelled at me for 5 min that I didn't ask her to come with us.

Ik you're like so confused rn lol. One thing that was very upsetting me with my best friend of 8+ years was that as time went by, she was just using me for her benefit, like when I got my driving license, she was just texting ke 24/7 and asking me drive her to some places so she can do her job-.- but rn I'm not needed anymore because my neighbor has a car and driving license. And I honestly don't care that hangs out with who, I'm pissed that they're just forgeting that I'm there yk, like It feels that I'm no seen any more.

Am I an asshole if I want to end our friendship?because there's nothing worth fighting for, obv she doesn't give a fuck. Like the last time she texted me was about 2 months ago asking if I have high heels:/

Obviously she doesn't respect me anymore. And I want to end our friendship so there's no more beef between us, it's better to be strangers that people who have no connection anymore.

I'm sorry that it was confusing for u but it's so much annoying me rn.

Thank you so much for this intense episode of am I an asshole, I was thoroughly hooked👁👁 To answer your question, I don’t think you’re an asshole. To me, your best friend of 8+ years has pushed you aside now that they found someone new, as if they only kept you around because you’re convenient. And sometimes, we don’t notice how badly someone is treating us until we take a step back—which is what seemed to happen now that you two aren’t close anymore. In this book I’m reading, the author talks about how everything we see/interact with is only from our perspective which is one of PLENTY and everyone is different. So, this is just my opinion, and maybe you should try to talk it out and tell her how she’s made you feel? That’s just me because I’d rather have confrontation than leave everything in the air—BUT since she doesn’t respect you anymore, just focus your energy on things that matter. You can heal without confrontation too, and remember that it’s not your job to make people who hurt you feel better.

[4dtk]

b’day boy

anon: “hi hi hi hi!!! how’re you!! idk if you’re requests are on but!!! can i request smth where jaehyun thinks the reader forgot abt this bday bc she didn’t text him all day but she actually flys to seoul to see him?? basically johnny helped surprise him!!” quick pretend johnny is living on the same floor as jaehyun for this fic. enjoy anon! :-)

“hey! happy birthday, man,” johnny greets jaehyun, slapping him on the back as the birthday boy answers with a nod and a tired smile.

the dorm’s still quiet in the morning, save for the boiling water and the white noise from beyond the flat. the taller male doesn’t miss the way jaehyun’s smile drops, eyeing his phone a meter away from him in case the plan’s busted.

“hm… hyung, have you heard from (y/n) lately? i haven’t gotten her breakfast text, which is weird…”

jaehyun exits the messaging app for the umpteenth time, seeing if there was anything wrong with the internet or with his phone itself.

johnny shakes his head at the question, going back to prepare his coffee as he struggles to hold back a smile.

“sorry, jae, i’m not so sure about that.”

he saves his phone as it lit up right as you messaged, spamming to the poor guy about nerves and bizarre situations due to your overthinking mind.

(y/n) the homie: ?????? what ???? the hell do i wear!!!!!!!!

(y/n) the homie is typing…

(y/n) the homie: i’m trying to hard rn not to click on jaehyun’s name lol

(y/n) the homie: unnnnf i feel so bad johnny

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: u know for someone that has my contact name in wack ass emojis, i’m not gonna help you fashion-wise

johnny 🔥🥱🕴:  don’t worry k, plus it was ur idea!!!! how’s the packing coming along

(y/n) the homie: haha very funny, i am already on the plane mf

“john, hyung, you already made the reservation for tonight yea?” jaehyun asks sleepily, getting up from his comfy position on the table solely to get a chance at johnny’s coffee.

the other hums, having had made reservations for 12 people. sicheng was joining the boys for dinner tonight and taeyong was bringing his girlfriend as well, leaving one last seat for you.

one last text catches johnny’s attention, hoping all will turn out well tonight.

(y/n) the homie: i’m taking off rn, pls follow the plan or i think i’ll actually cry

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: is typing…

johnny 🔥🥱🕴:  overdramatic. i will, just focus on getting to korea safe yea

you leave it as that, buckling in and settled in quick well once the plane had reached a certain altitude.

the present you prepared couldn’t leave your mind, debating here and there whether jaehyun would like it or not.

would something go wrong? we didn’t fight before this, did we?

your thoughts travel everywhere, trying your best to relax while you find a film to distract you. soon, you ease into the movie and then, into a comfortable sleep.

it’s almost evening when the captain announces the landing in a few more minutes, bringing you to open the window.

although the clouds seemed to dance around the plane and the deep blue of the sky takes over the day, the sight provides little comfort as you practice your korean in the plane.

you repeat the restaurant’s address in your head even through immigration, steps unknowingly speeding up at how excited you were.

on the other hand, jaehyun gets more and more worried at the lack of texts, eyeing the single one sent early in the morning at 3am, while you bid each other goodbye on facetime. nothing seems to get him out of his daze, having been reminded several times of the car that was waiting for him.

as the manager wishes him a happy birthday, jaehyun could only thank him half-heartedly, staring down at his phone with a frown.

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: oh man you gotta have like a full on dance number when u enter or something. your mans can’t stop sighing at his phone like it’s a magic mirror

(y/n) the homie: oh nooo, crap, i feel so bad. i’m omw, gotta thank u for going over my korean before this flight

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: you learnt it from the best

(y/n) the homie: 🙄🙄🙄

your eyes pass through many different shops and districts, observing the busy streets of korea and it’s liveliness and wondering if you will ever be up to living in such an exciting country.

it was a long drive, your feet unable to stop moving while you kept yourself calm by counting the exchanged money over and over. a notification from @johnnyjsuh lights up your phone and brings you out of your anxiety for a bit, the instagram story filling up the screen as he records the grand restaurant that they would be dining in.

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: you here?

(y/n) the homie: yes, almost. this person right here is very jumpy and tense

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: breathe, i’ll give u the green light soon

(y/n) the homie: kk

with one foot out the cab, you find yourself needing to calm your heart, feeling the familiar heat and adrenaline rush through your body at seeing your boyfriend.

you eye your phone for the last time, entering on johnny’s cue to surprise jaehyun. with his back turned to the event room, your lips naturally curl into a smile as you watch him through the glass panel.

the gentle jazz pouring from the speakers give the atmosphere its intended ambience, as the boys catch up with sicheng and others converse with each other. they keep their cool according to plan as you enter silently, the gift clutched under your arm tightly.

“guess who?”

with your hands over his eyes, you can almost feel his shock.

“what... no way,” jaehyun’s jaw drops, gaining some laughs from the members as he turns around rapidly. his latches onto your smile, the corners of his lips slowly stretching into a grin before you stumble back at his embrace.

jaehyun holds you tight, as if you’d vanish once you left this room. his arms were wound around you all the way by the next minute, leaving you with no opportunity to breathe.

“babe, i can’t breathe,” you blurt out, making the male release you almost immediately before you attack with your own hug, loving how you could feel the rumble of his chest as he giggled.

“was everyone in on this?” you nodded as he turned to his members, most of them donning bright, sly smiles and jungwoo even winking when he met his eyes.

“y’all are incredible,” jaehyun throws his head back in laughter, an arm naturally encircling your waist as you pile your present with the other’s, making your way to your seat after.

dinner is filled with joviality and loud conversation, even coaxing johnny into revealing that he was the ringleader of the plan. the birthday boy applauds his subtlety, bringing the night to a close an hour or two later as each member finishes their share of the cake.

“i’ll come in later, you guys should head back first,” jaehyun states, pressing a kiss to your temple as the others bid you goodbye.

the lean into your boyfriend feels natural, the cool breeze brushing past your face as he interrogates you about you ghosting him.

“i was so worried, i honestly thought you forgot about me.”

you chuckle, “do you think i really could? when there’s valentine decorations everywhere? i wouldn’t forget it even if it wasn’t valentine’s,” you mused, matching up with jaehyun’s steps.

“it would be sad if my own girlfriend couldn’t remember when i was born.”

the two of you fall quiet, enjoying each other’s company as you stroll around the park near the restaurant.

“say, did you like the surprise?”

“like? baby, i loved it,” jaehyun pulls you in, the walk stopped short while he holds your freezing fingers, “thank you.”

you answer in the form of a smile, tippy-toeing to reach his lips halfway as the moon shines on. it settles your heart in familiarity and warmness, never losing that giddy fondness whenever you were with jaehyun.

“i’d travel anywhere to be where you are, jung jaehyun.”

[avenger-hawk]

Hey hawk, did you observe a pattern among people who participate in Woke-ism culture, they seem to have similar "traits" and "personality"? Dislike the "straight" orientation (usually identify themselves as gay/lesbian/bi and brags they are LGBT every second), they seem to think gender identity is a personality trait etc therefore "I'm holier than thou because I list myself as she/he/they/it". I bet they are gonna scream at me for being whatever "phobic" just because of this post lol

*clears throat* yeah they gonna scream at you but they can’t scream at me because it’s been a year that I am in an lgbt relationship soooo xD

Ofc I noticed this kind of behavior, these woke ppl really like be ‘different’ and tbh the thing I find more irritating is when they define themselves ‘autistic’ or ‘asperger’ or ‘adhd’ whathever other mental illness/condition, because these are serious things that should be diagnosed by a specialist and not an online tests, and usually ppl who have a real problem are not so incredibly vocal about it. Sure they don’t brag with it....”but I don’t have money to take a test and my parents don’t let me!” they say? yeah. could be. but it also could be that you just wanna look special and since you’re socially anxious or shy or just a b*tch, you like to play rude and then justify yourself with those labels, and if someone dares tell you you’re a piece of shit you can call them ableist lol

Same for race or country. Not taking anything away from populations/countries/cultures/religions that have been oppressed, but sometimes I cringe cause some ppl try so hard to fit in this. Like, at some point 99% of populations were invaded by others and oppressed, and I’m sorry for welsh ppl, to just name one (no offense it’s the first that came to my mind cause I read a post recently lol) but if this continues we’re gonna have to seek justice for the victims of the vikings’ raids lolol

Anyway, back to what you were saying. I partly get that lgbt ppl are vocal about what they are bc maybe they can’t tell their families or friends, and they use social media as outlets. but like you said, your personality is not defined by who you f*ck and/or love (It’s not even defined by the fiction you like, actually, but they think so). So while I understand ppl describe themselves in their profile and specify their gender identity and sexuality, for me it’s cringey when they take it too far. Like when they start with all the labels ever, or they make combinations...demisexual panromantic/asexual demiromantic/trans nonbinary aroace spectrum...sounds like a competition of who’s less ordinary. Bonus points if they also add race and illness. Bonus points if they pretend they’re experts and activist and they shit on ppl who ship something or speak of top/bottom bc they’re fetishizing gay mlm/wlw and how dare they, dirty cishets (cause Anon, straight is a too banal word lol).

(also...not to offend ‘aroace’ ppl out there but...when someone is like 12...couldn’t it be that they’re just...too young for caring about sex/love? asking for a friend lolol)

I mean, tumblr has a lot of lgbt ppl and it’s cool, and I know it’s hard to live as an lgbt person cause you can’t do what het ppl do normally, like kissing in public or holding hands or writing cute posts on fb bc someone might bitch or be even worse, so this creates a bitterness and aggressiveness on social media I guess, especially here where minorities are the majority lol. And I too, on my personal blog, occasionally ranted about things like internalized homophobia and queerbaiting, but only very rarely lol and no one paid attention to me, guess I am not lgbt enough hahahah

But, it’s stupid to use sexuality labels as a shield to shit on ppl and then call them --phobic when they react. It actually happened to me a couple of years ago, I wrote something about bottom Sasuke and this self defined aromantic+asexual+autistic+gay american dude attacked me for fetishizing gays. Back then I was in a relationship with a guy so for him I was only a boring straight person I guess, a gross fujoshi who dared like mlm haha. fuck him. If I were the same type of person as him I would have pulled the oppressed card, I could have attacked him reminding him that his country treated italian immigrants like animals, and that they had this veeeery big problem of being unsure about our ‘race’ so in their papers they often wrote ? cause they couldn’t understand if we were poc or not...but it would have been kinda off topic and I cartainly don’t waste time talking about me to ppl I don’t even trust to be what they say.

Also because I was raised by parents who were very politically involved, so I remember them doing activism, like, getting out of the house, going to protests, doing volunteering, even taking me along when I was little. So even tho now everything happens online first, and even tho posts can spread awareness and change ppl’s minds, I still don’t trust when I see those blogs full of angry woke activism, because they seem fake and even those ppl seem fake. It’s easy to scream for justice from a keyboard, in a comfortable house. It’s less easy to protest in the cold, risking to have problems with the police, the government, the pandemic, whatever else.

It’s irritating that wokies want to take the right to like smth in the right way or whatever, telling everyone else who don’t fit in the minority group that they can’t like the thing. Idk, I just wish ppl were like in Eastern Asian fandoms, not making everything about themselves, being open minded enough for whatever ‘different’ thing whether they are into it or not, and if they’re not ignoring it only.

And I do get wanting to fit the minority, as a teenager I was veery punk/gothic, depending on the moment, and I never fit in the majority opinions or habits anyway. And I was kind of fluid with my identity and sexuality, but silly me, I kept it for myself, even tho I discussed with those who insulted lgbt ppl and I wrote stuff where everyone is bisexual by default, thinking that it was how people were born before society conditioned them...I could have bragged but I had no idea about ‘fluid’ or ‘pan’, silly me.

I am so irritated at everything, like the words they use, even the english language that is not mine, is getting on my nerves because it’s the vehicle for their crap, but these periodically trending words are disgusting like these ppl to me.

I migth have gone out of topic again lol.

[colour-outside-the-liness]

Hey, I'm doing good too. Just normal amounts of stressful stuff right now. Just moved to a country I've never been to before but can't complain, things are not as hard as the last time I did this so. Thanks for asking! Yeah, I saw you posting about some pretty scary health issues before, I'm glad you came out of that alive and hope you're healthier now!

The nerve some people have! Haha I know I would be pissed if people were questioning my intelligence like that especially after a couple of drinks in haha. Though I do like taunting people when I play group games, I'll be like "don't need to try that hard guys, you're gonna lose anyway" just to mess with them or just call people sore losers if they accuse me of cheating haha (they're probably right on the accusations tho). People get real mad sometimes it's kinda funny. 😂

Omg literally laughed out loud reading this! Hahaha, how did you manage to fall over a road sign then end up in a ditch? lol omg hope you didn't get hurt too bad 😂 I was trying to downplay my drunken escapades but since you shared yours I should tell you my worst one:

I was at this summer street party at night and got drunk on something made out of tropical herbs and cachaça (which is about 48% alcohol), drank 3 and a half bottles of that like it was apple juice, made friends with a bunch of strangers in a bathroom queue (who tried to talk to me weeks later but I had no idea who they were), had to be held by my best friend while I peed (mostly missing the toilet), fell in the middle of the street and scraped my knee, threatened this boy who was helping me walk and told him not to try anything funny or I would beat him up, then dragged my friends to the beach and left them shortly after to go make out with my ex, came back with lipstick all over my mouth and chin and when my friends asked what I was doing I said I was just talking to my ex and they were like NO YOU WERE NOT, hahaha then I kissed all my girl friends on a dare and we danced under the full moon, then I told my best friend I had to puke so she took me to the ocean but I changed my mind and happened to step on a dead turtle on the way back and started crying bc of it, but last month my best friend told me it was a rock I had stepped on (I believed it was a dead turtle for 7 years!). Had the worst hangover of my life the next day. ✌️✨

Ah I'm happy you liked it! I've never listened to Six musical before but it sounds fun! I can see why you like it haha made me want to dance around my apartment 💃. And hey if liking musicals is your thing then it's great, I'm sure Hozier will understand if he's not your top artist of the year. 😋 Here's my "damie" Pinterest board if you or anyone else wants to check it out, totally recommend making one if you're a visual person like me!

https://pin.it/UcHVlkq

Oh I could talk about Dani and Jamie forever I think. I love the beast in the jungle speech too and it's so painful to watch, VP delivered that beautifully, but I have to admit I'm always a crying mess from episode 1 when older Jamie starts reciting that song about being sad while waiting for her lover to return, this show is fucking cruel I hate it and love it at the same time hahaha. Omg your mom 😂 but I mean it's truly an honor to be compared to someone like Dani, no? She's really great even if she needs a little help haha (don't we all).

Aaah you're amazing! Thank you so much, I'll read this pirate AU soon!

I used to draw a lot, really loved doing it when I was a kid as I said before, and all throughout adulthood too but I haven't done that in almost a year now bc I've got a bit of a case of burnout I guess, it just takes a lot of effort to do it when it shouldn't be like that at all. I used to do fanart too, for other fandoms. Even made one for Dani x Jamie but ended up not liking how it turned out haha. I've got a lot of respect for writers and fanfic writers also! Yall can make words make sense in really interesting and beautiful ways, build worlds so enthralling I can see them vividly in my head. Writing is such an incredibly fascinating skill to have! And I guess the most important thing is that we enjoy doing these things right? Even if we think we're not particularly good at it.

Anyway, have a lovely weekend! 👋✨

Good I'm glad you're doing great but sorry you're dealing with stressful stuff!! Hope living in a new country goes well for you I'm so jealous that you've lived in different countries I'd love to live somewhere else even if just for s few years!! Awwh thank you so much I definitely came out of it alive and am feeling so much better now thank you I mean I do some pretty ditzy things so when people say it to me it's pretty deserved sometimes, I'm secretly smart and people just don't expect it so I never mind too much haha I might have to start saying the things that you do and just taunting them over it I mean, I usually do win even when they make me answer different questions so I will definitely have to start saying things like that to them Haha I love that you're just like "yeah they're probably right in their accusations" I agree seeing how mad some people get over games and stuff is funny (it's me I'm people I hate loosing games depending on what it is and I am very competitive) So it was very dark and all we had for light was my roommates flashlight on her phone but while we were walking home a friend of ours that lived else where kept texting her to make sure we were still safe (my phone as dead at this point) so while she was texting him her flashlight was facing down and someone had moved this road sign to the footpath and it was on that sits on the floor so while I couldn't see it I walked into it and fell over it but while I feel I grabbed hold of it and flipped with it and fell in a ditch with it on top of me... I was fine and was just laid laughing while my friend looked down at me and in the most northern accent ever just said "get up you dickhead." and helped me off of the floor and then asked if I was okay... and I was so it was all good!! Haha 😂 I love this drunken story that sounds like one hell of a night and is a roller coaster from start to finish!! I'm sorry you thought you had stood on a dead turtle for 7 years though, someone really should've told you that it was just a rock!! But that sounds like my kind of night!! I love nights like that... stories that will last a life time... the only down side is the hangover... luckily I have only ever had one hang over in my life and it wasn't the morning after the road sign fiasco... I felt surprisingly good the morning after that haha 😂 It's such a good musical it's about Henry VIII wives and I just love everything to do with his wives and that musical is so much fun and actually gives a little insight to the lives the six Tudor queens had away from Henry and with him because at school we're mainly just taught about him which sucks!! I loved the Hozier song and am definitely gonna have to listen to more of his stuff!! I love musicals so much I mainly listen to musical soundtracks at the minute- usually, Legally Blonde and Six on repeat haha 😂 Ooo thank you I will definitely check out this Pinterest board thanks for sending it to me!! I could talk about them forever too... since watching Bly Manor my niece has been asking me so many questions about it and I am more than happy to talk to her about it haha!! The beast in the jungle speech just breaks my heart every time I relate to it so much and VP just delivers it so beautifully!! Oh yeah now I know at the beginning that it's older Jamie I am just a wreck the whole show is just so beautiful and heart breaking at the same time I LOVE IT!! Even though it makes me sob- I keep putting myself through it!! I mean, yeah I was happy that she said it Dani is great but it was the way she said it... my mum can be something else sometimes... she said she thought Dani was like me the first time she does the accent when she says "I've fallen quite in love with London" because I just randomly do accents a lot too but it was the way she was like "She needs help... but I like her she reminds me of you" I was just like... "Should I go get help?" I still don't know the answer to my question about if I need help or not but I mean I probably do need it You're welcome I really hope you like it!! It's a

great fic I love it!! Yeah I get that if stuff starts taking too much effort and burns you out you're not gonna wanna keep doing it so it's understandable that you stopped!! I think fan art is great and I really would love to be able to do it myself but I just don't have the skill it takes!! Awwh it's a shame you didn't like the Dani x Jamie one you did I would've loved to have seen it!! Honestly there are so many talented writers out there and when I read their fics I am just in awe of the worlds they have built and the stories they have created we are so blessed in this fandom to have so many amazing writers and so many amazing fics out there Oh yeah definitely its important to enjoy what you do!! I know I love writing and love writing fics for Dani and Jamie so I think I'll be doing it for a while even if I'm not great at it haha Awwh thank you very much I hope you have a great weekend too!! ☺️

[snowmanmelting]

re: Uncles - Ah yes, someone was mentioned alongside the rabbit stew but I wasn’t sure who was from who’s side of the family so I was just like “ah yes, the ‘everyone here is your uncle/aunt/cousin regardless of where they’re from’ kind of deal xD That’s what happens at my family gatherings anyway, there are just... so many of us LOL

re: Flower pots - kiddo paintings on flower pots are so cute, regardless of intentional picture/scene or not. It just really struck me as one of Elsa’s memories so I was curious^^ We did the same thing when I was little and my parents kept them for a LONG long time until they both moved houses. I mentioned this in a chapter comment but WLU is so nostalgic in tone despite it taking place in another country than mine, and the flower pot one specifically unlocked some of my own memories xD

re: the accident - I figured as much^^;; they’re so common, but so devastating. And yeah you can def have open caskets, kinda just depends on like, uh, damage, if you know what I mean

re: artistic!Elsa - I definitely want to see more :D I’m sure you will use it to rip our little hearts to pieces <3

re: Anna’s voice - oh ABSOLUTELY she sounds different. It’s in her mannerisms for sure (which Elsa is so very good at observing and absolutely makes sense, contextually) but definitely in the cadence and vernacular with WHICH she speaks. She also speaks so much MORE than Elsa - whole paragraphs of words in comparison to Elsa’s one or two liners. Which makes sense character-wise and of course bc the rest of the story is ALL narrated internally by Elsa -- but when Anna speaks its completely different and I noticed that right away.

Speaking of, I know you’ve said more than once that English is not your first language so I definitely want to say that your translations are INCREDIBLE. Writing poignantly in one language is hard enough xD But knowing it’s translated and still maintains (what I can only assume is) the power and strength of the original language is sUCH a treat and SUCH a great accomplishment!! You should definitely be proud, I hope you are!! I’m learning a third language rn but even I would be so nervous about trying to translate anything I’ve written into anything else bc I swear I wouldn’t know the language well enough to navigate doing it justice (not my work, the language itself xD). WLU on the other hand is amazing 🤩🤩

→OOOhhhh right. True. I don't have family meetings since I was like 6 and even then they never mixed so I guess it might be weird for someone whose families that do gather together 🤣🤣 but um, yeah their families sides don't mix 👀

→OOOOHHH :O ay I'll properly answer in a bit those last two comments you left but the short answer now is I'm glad I'm able to do so!!! That chapter it's kinda her nostalgia so :^) Ffhddgdcncnfheh yes I actually realized with that Chapter that Elsa literally lives in the past. Everything she mentions is a memory lmao (and that might or might not have inspired the dad's comment on it 👀) but I guess it's another question to add to the list, right? Why the hell a 17 yo lives in the past. I guess. 👀

→Yes you will see more. And yes it was supposed to be like chapter 6, then I settled for 8. But now I'm delaying it a bit more because it's a heavy one and we all need breaks.

→oh? OH?? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I'm so glad. I didn't caught on that as much as you did, but I guess it's Anna simply writing herself??👀 But but but omg omg I'm so happy of hearing this because I feel I did something right and AAAAAAAA

Also I- you-- I--

I'm crying I read that last bit like 5 times I'm--- THANK YOU SO MUCH HOW MANY MORE TIMES CAN I SAY THANK YOU I'M 😭😭😭😭😭❤️💟❤️💟❤️💟 you're too kind!!!! 😭😭💟😭❤️❤️😭💟💟❤️❤️😭💟💟❤️

[2021ssajka]

This month has been very challenging for me. (personal post below, you can read it)

From having plans to go back to the Philippines, to cancelling that plans all together. I initially wanted to go to the PH because I wanted this to be my gift for myself as I am graduating with 2 majors. I wanted to visit my family there and spend time with them, as well as my dad (sick). 

My dad and I dont have the best relationship, so it has been even more challenging for me. 

Ive been in America for 10 years now and this whole time Ive always wanted to go back and be with my family there since I love them very much and they are a big part of my life. Ive always imagined a nice vacation and going on trips with my cousins. Painting in my little terrace of my childhood home. basically reliving my old life when I was 12. I still kept that dream till now.

I am only now realizing that, that perception of the Philippines I had in my head is still the vision I had when I was 12. I am realizing now that its a fantasy and not the reality. 

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This planning process for the Philippines was super last minute and impulsive, given the pandemic and me finding out my dads condition is not getting better. I booked a flight right away without any plans whatsoever. I was hoping it would be a spontaneous time where my family would bring me around to places and etc. I was even just fine with just staying home and just being in the company of my cousins that I missed so much. 

Everyday since I booked that flight, there were complications and drama rising. My dad has becoming paranoid and his narcissistic ways are coming back and has been triggering me. We have been fighting a lot since then which turned into getting more people involved with this fight. Resulted with me having a major panic attack and meltdown that I do not want to go at all. 

All the bad memories I had of him in my childhood came back. Everything was coming back to me- everything that I have burned at the back of my head and forgot about. I thought time has healed me but I was wrong. my past trauma came back and I felt like I was stuck into this trip without knowing what I signed up for.

I was not okay for many days. I felt like I was a helpless child he were able to control, manipulate and emotionally/mentally abuse again. I kept praying.

It was then that the Philippines announced that there were implying a travel ban on the day I booked a flight. I felt that this was God’s interfering in order to protect me from him

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This has been an eye opening experience for me. 

Growing up in a traumatic household and moving to another country made me deal with things differently. I realized that me being overly positive and optimistic and being grateful for everything is a trauma response. Its a survival response. 

At a young age, My body did not know how to process these traumatic events and emotions so I shutdown. Its like when you have an accident and your body go on emergency mode and you wont feel the pain. I think that is what my body went through. I remember a time when I was a kid and I was numb for a year. It was through art when I tried healing myself and holding on for hope. 

for a long time- till now, everytime those events in my childhood are being talked about, i literally have a panic attack and I shut down. I cannot listen to it or talk about it without crying. 

When I moved here. I started a new life. I had a clean slate and I tried to forget everything bad that has happened. Its like I cleared out all the bad memories and held onto the good things, thats why I had such a fixation in my childhood in the Philippines because after a while, I only believed that I had a good childhood there. (i didnt have a right grasp of my real past). This also explains the reason why I wanted to visit that place so bad- bc i can only remember the good things, and I had a breakdown when my bad past caught up to me because that no longer existed in my head. 

This explains my fixation in my memories of the Philippines in my art work and why I use happy colors. I only saw that place as the “good place” when in reality there are many bad things happening in that country (not only in my personal life). 

ive only realized these things now... 10 years later when everything came back to me as flashbacks when my trauma was triggered. and it explains everything in my life especially in my artworks. it explains why I do what I do and I have such empathy for myself because I realize that the artist in me is the kid in me 10 years ago. 

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I realized that when I moved here, I viewed the Philippines as my ESCAPE. my safe haven, the place I would want to go back to and retire to since this was my home at the age of 14. I had such yearning for that familiarity when I was living in a foreign place that I developed such fantasy in that place.

I started painting when I was dealing through traumatic events in the Philippines, just when I was about to move here. I used to paint encouraging words in my art, having it as my sense of hope in those challenging times. 

I guess that still lives on in my today. I still use my art as my sense of escape and I am only realizing that now. I have always mentioned that these landscapes are my “safe haven” and now I understand why. Ive always referred to my art as a “healing act” but i never really understood why. 

I realized that my view of the Philippines is different from reality. I made this to be a romanticized place where I had a nice childhood in but that was not the whole story. 

------

This is why it is so hard for me to reference anything negative in my work. Ive always used my art as a positive act, to bring hope and encouragement. I still stand with that. I still resonate with my work and it is still valid. but now I see my work as two sided. Its not only that narrative but also the past that I have forgotten about. 

I have always had trouble with my art classes because teachers would always push me to do negative emotions in my work- so not just positive but also the negative aspect of the full spectrum of emotions.

This has always been a difficult task for me because I dont want that. My body rejects it. I used art to heal and they would want me to express the nasty emotions here. now I understand why I react that way. 

My mother is also a trauma survivor of my dad. So her, my sister and I share these experiences together. This also comes from an immigrant narrative who had nothing on her back when she came to this country, literally building herself up from dirt. My mom is the one who would always teach me to be grateful, to appreciate what we have and to be positive- to the point that thats all I did. to the point that it buried all the negative emotions and memories that I was not able to heal completely and is now still in that place. 

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its a lot. its like I just found out a different past that I never knew of. but im so glad I figured this out now. Its like I finally have an explanation why I am who I am today. Everything is valid, there is a reason why dealt with that problem that way and I dont regret it. 

Im just so glad I finally have answers. It just explains so much and im mindblown lol

I am not comfortable having this as a narrative of my work even if it is probably the main influence of the work i do. Im also not comfortable of talking about this personal story with other people and in my work. 

I just refuse being an abuse survivor as my story... I am more than what I have been through... so im trying to figure that out.

I am now trying to know myself again, my full self. 

Im excited to see how this changes my work hehe

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #310

“i get pretty just to fuck my face up.”

Do you have a clock in your room? No. What book, movie, TV show, or video game have you been wanting to start up? I *want* to read The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but I care more about reading Wings of Fire, so I probably realistically won't for a long time. I don't read enough for that; Sutherland will surely keep pumping out books in the series so I'll never catch up, haha. As for a movie, I've been interested in seeing Jacob's Ladder for a very long time; it served as a very large influence on the Silent Hill series, and boy, anyone who brings up video games in front of me knows SH is my SHIT. I also just know I'm bound to like it with how essentially legendary it is in the psychological horror genre, which is my favorite. Onto TV show, I'm not certain. Shows don't really interest me. I would like to keep watching A:TLA w/ Sara, but "start up" implies beginning something new, so. Lastly, video games. There are a LOT of games I want to play, but yeah, I have no operational gaming console above a PS2. I'm dyinnnngggggg to play a ton of PS4 remasters (namely the original Spyro the Dragon trilogy and SoTC), but as for a fresh game I've never experienced, Ico, which is from the same producers of Shadow of the Colossus. It's an old game, and Mom's bought it off of Ebay for me twice, but neither disc worked - they froze only minutes into the game. It's hella expensive in new condition though because of its age... so who knows when I'll actually get to play it. Do you put anything else on your grilled cheese sandwiches? Just butter. Have you ever read a book in a different language? I've read some simple fairy tales as well as the play Faust in German courses. Do you want to go to the Harry Potter theme park at Universal? I have no connection with the franchise, but I mean, I'd go if you're paying, haha. If you had a secret room in your house, how would you decorate it? I'm trying to think what kind of room I'd keep a secret... Ha, actually, IF my love of tarantulas expands so largely to having dozens (which I doubt, but I acknowledge the possibility once I get my own place), a room kept on the down low to others just for them would be pretty cool. Imagine someone not knowing they're sharing a house with like, a hundred Ts, haha. As for actual decor, I'm unsure. I'd definitely keep it generally dark for them as nocturnal creatures, maybe with some Halloween decorations, like lots of fake webbing and neon green or orange lights. Man... that sounds dope. What did you get your dad for his last birthday? I couldn't buy him anything, nor did I actually make anything since I didn't know what to create. I just told him happy birthday, of course. Do any of your relatives live in another country? No. Are you claustrophobic? In some spaces, yes. Ever seen Blair Witch? Without spoilers, you know "that part" near the end? Yeah, if you've seen it, you know. That would be a fucking NIGHTMARE for me. Even watching it made me squirm. When grocery shopping, do you usually buy brand names or store brand? With most items anyway, we just get the store brand bc we cheap. Around what time do you usually eat dinner? Generally between 5:30-6:30 nowadays. Do you have any clothing that you get dry cleaned? No. Do you like foods with coconut in it? Eugh, not a coconut fan. I don't hate it as much as I used to, but I still don't like it. Have you ever researched your family history? No, but some past relative researched our family tree. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I hate carrots. Did you play with Legos as a kid? Nah, I was more into Lincoln Logs. Which bothers you more… spelling mistakes or bad grammar? It really depends on the severity and simplicity of the spelling or grammar rule. Grammatical misuse of "there/their/they're" stand out very strongly to me, though. Have you ever bought anything off of eBay? Yeah, a good number of things. Is anybody in your family schizophrenic? If so, what is their life like? I have a scizophrenic half-sister that I've never met, so I couldn't tell you. How organized is your mind? How do you know it's organized/disorganized? My mind is running Windows '98 with multiple windows and even more tabs open, all of them not responding. :^) Why do you follow the religion that you do? I don't follow one. My personal religious journey was a train wreck liberating to jump off of. Do you feel superior to others because you're that religion? I don't care if you're atheist, Christian, Buddhist, Islamic, whatever - you are by no means superior to another person in any way just because you believe different things happen once you die. If you do, it's time for some introspection. Are you a blind believer, or do you frequently challenge your own beliefs? Seeing as I went from Catholic to Christian to briefly Neo-Pagan-ish to what I am now, just believing there's some higher power/knowledge and some form of sentience after death, I obviously challenge them. What's the greatest thing about science? Life itself. This universe, this planet, your state of just knowing is a product of science, and that's pretty damn beautiful. Are you emotional or very stolid? I know I'm too emotional. I'm trying to get better about it. Do your siblings look like you? To a degree, but not NEARLY as much as they look like each other. Ashley and Nicole have been mistaken multiple times in their lives and even asked if they're twins. How many states have you lived in? Just this shitty one. How many states have you traveled through/vacationed in? Traveled through, a whole lot. Up and down the east coast. I've stayed in New York, Florida, Ohio, Illinois, South Carolina briefly, and I think possibly Michigan as a baby. Which state was/is your favorite? I don't know. Not NC, haha. You have two weeks alone in any place in the world; where would you go? Alone? Um... I dunno. I'd get lonely through two weeks in absolute isolation. How old were you when you first moved out of your parents' home? I want to say I was 18 when I briefly "moved in" with Jason and our roommates. Did you ever have to move back in? Yeah; the apartment didn't last very long. None of us were ready. How old were you when you thought you were "in love" for the first time? I was in love at 16. I'd fight God literally for eternity to prove that fact. How many exterior doors are in your home? Two, or maybe three, depending on your outlook. We have like this deck in the back with a roof and mesh separating you from the outside, and then you properly go into the yard from the door beyond that. How many cars have you owned? I myself, none. How many email accounts do you have? Ummmm my very first one I misspelled, so I didn't use it long before making a new one with the correct spelling, then later I had no choice but to make a Gmail to use YouTube, and I know I've had at least one email specifically for school. I'm probably forgetting some other oldies I used for small things. What was the last movie you watched alone? The Shining. What (if any) one television program do you watch religiously every day/week? None. What (if any) is your favorite sport? Dance. Scoff at that shit and then try one dance session and tell me it's not one. What is your favorite musical? None. Have you ever seen a live opera production? No. Dressing up for an evening out: Pants or skirt? Pants. I don't show my legs. What do you currently hear right now? I'm listening to Dance With the Dead's "The Man Who Made a Monster." I LOVE the aesthetic of synthwave and rock mixed together, but the only problem I have with this song is that it's very repetitive. Still stuck in my head though, haha. What type of survey do you refuse to take? I'm not into bolding surveys, specifically. Do you like to run? bitch fuck no Do you think you could run the mile in 10 minutes? Zero chance. What was the longest movie you watched? Hm, I don't remember... It's faintly there in my head, I just can't identify it... Have you ever been to a job interview? Well yeah. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. Now that I'm doing the partial hospitalization program again, he calls once a week. When was the last time you talked to your last ex boyfriend? Uhhh I think around the start of this month? Missed him and felt like chatting for a bit. Is your dog mixed or full? I don't have a dog, buuuut... we're getting one soon! I'm quite sure she's a mutt. What was the last thing you and your mother did together? Rode to the pharmacy to pick up my meds. Do you take good pictures? I like to think so. What is your display picture on myspace/facebook right now? The most recent selfie I took and liked. I'm finally comfortable using makeupless photos as a display picture. :') Not that I like my body by any means, I just don't care enough to feel like I HAVE to wear makeup to be even remotely pretty in the face. As for everywhere else... ahahaha. What is going on outside right now? It's raining. Like it has been for what feels like literally weeks - and it might actually have been. There's been one or two sunny days in a huge streak of just nothing but rain. It's so gross outside by now; we've been under a flood warning for days on end. Who was the last person you kissed? My best friend, but we were dating then. What color looks the best on you? Black. Have you ever bought the wrong size because you were too lazy to check it? Oh, absolutely. I LOATHE trying on clothes. You have to essentially drag me to go do it. I don't have a good reason other than I don't want to, lol. What was the last thing you bought over 5 dollars? I put down the deposit on my tattoo. c: Do you have any mag subscriptions? No. What is something you're not scared of but a lot of people are? Snakes are probably the highest on the list. I adore snakes, all snakes. Would you ever have a threesome? No; I'm strictly monogamous and to me would be cheating even if your partner was in on it. Are you an U.S. citizen? Yep. Do you have any step siblings? I have a stepbrother, yeah, but I don't see him as my brother, honestly. He's a very quiet and reclusive guy I've had almost no conversations with, and they've only ever been short. Do they annoy you? Nah, he's fine. How many times a day do you talk to your mom on the phone? Well, we live together... What did you wear yesterday? The same pjs I'm in now. I'm changing when I take a shower later. The tank top is a Day of the Dead-esque skull pattern, while the pants are mostly navy with skulls and candy can crossbones that say "nice until proven naughty" arching over and beneath them. They were a Christmas gift from my sis and are really soft and comfortable. Really don't care that it's now out of season, I wear them anyway. I do not match colors AT ALL, but again, I don't care. What color straightener do you have? We don't have one; neither Mom or I use one. Do you listen to music really loud or really low? Turn that shit up LOUD. I'll be nearly deaf one day, but... worth it? lol Do you live with anybody other than your siblings and your parents? No. Both my sisters have moved out. I'm still here because I'm just not emotionally or financially equipped to live on my own yet. Who was your last crush? I still like my best friend, but agree with her that right now isn't the time for anything. How many tattoos do you have? Currently only six. :( What is your favorite thing to do? Car rides with Mom while I ride passenger, controlling the music nice and loud with my iPod. It's odd, considering I'm very afraid of being on the road, but it's just such a freeing, wild feeling to blare music and just go, letting your mind wander. How many pets do you own? I only have a cat and a snake right now, but we're getting a dog hopefully very soon, preferably today actually when Mom has to go to the appropriate city for her normal check-up to keep her cancer at bay. Her name is Vanna and sounds so perfect for us. Mom can barely wait. Are you close with your parents? Yes, very, Mom especially. Where do you shop the most for your clothes? Hot Topic or Wal-Mart. I'd really like more stuff from Rebel's Market; they have such a wide range of stuff that just scream my aesthetic. I got my purse from there, and it's fantastic quality and so cool-looking. Have you ever read a whole series of books? Well, one trilogy that I remember: Shiloh. I adored those books and the movies. I got very, very deep into Warriors by Erin Hunter, but then my interest in reading waned, and I'm immensely behind. I don't think I'll pick it up again, but I've thought briefly about it. When you tell someone you love them do you mean it? Yes. Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I walked. Do you ever eat anything everybody else thinks is gross? Hm, perhaps. I'd have to think for a while. What did you do for your last birthday? I just ate pizza at home with my one sister that was free that day, Mom, and a family friend, as well as opened presents. What do you plan on doing for your 18th birthday? I don't recall, but I think that may have been when I was in the psych hospital. Or was that my 21st? I don't remember. Do you have to type with good grammer? Yes. I type pretty much exactly how I talk. What is your favorite quote? It's hard to pick one singular favorite. Are you allowed to cuss in front of your parents? Dad could care less, but I try to limit myself with Mom, especially with "fuck." She's not a fan, nor does she like if I just swear too much in front of her. Like she won't yell at me or anything, she just makes it clear she wants me to stop. How long was your last phone conversation? Just a couple minutes. I didn't get the Zoom link to group therapy one day and let the place know. Turns out their email was fucking up. Which one of your friends annoy you? The family friend I mentioned a few questions above has the ability to be incredibly aggravating. I love her, but she has zero issue with inserting herself into everything (and sometimes we just don't want to see her), and she voices incredibly rude opinions literally no one asks for a whoooole lot. She's got a strong tendency to try to take control over every situation. Her being our landlord now makes it harder to speak up, and besides, no one wants to hurt her feelings. Don't be mistaken though, she truly is an incredible person with a heart more caring than probably any person I know. Have you ever lost a close friend to death? No, thank fuck. I mean, I think. I do believe one of my childhood online friends committed suicide because of sexual abuse from her own fucking brother, but I guess I'll never know. She was talking to me one night horribly depressed and scared and then just vanished. Bless her, I loved her. Do you know someone who suffers from addiction? Yes. Do you have a lot of pictures in your room? Tons of posters and artwork, anyway. I currently don't have any photographs, but I got this shadowbox thing for my bday to decorate with pictures of Teddy so I can use it in my "tribute shrine" or whatever for him, and I'd also like to frame the picture of Sara's and my first hug and maybe put it on my bedside table. Do you have Facebook? Yeah, I do. Have you ever found a dog/cat on the side of the road? I myself, no, but a friend's mom did find two poor kittens thrown aside in a fucking plastic bag... Some people are abominable. Knowing how much my family loved cats, she reached out to us, and we took them in and named them Aphrodite and... I can't remember the other's name. She disappeared kinda early. Aphrodite wound up being one of my most beloved cats and was even the mother of a kitten that same family adopted. Delilah is still alive, doing wonderfully, and incredibly loved. <3 Aphrodite, meanwhile, as well as all our other cats at the time, were taken by animal control because our neighbors were tired of them wandering, even though they were too fucking cowardly to confront us first. I've said in many surveys that I am very much against outdoor cats, but I wasn't then because I was uninformed and really didn't understand. I wailed and sobbed and just pure shrieked like a banshee outside when we came home to learn they were taken. I have no clue how any are now, and that's the worst part. Do you go bowling in your town? We are in the middle of a pandemic, lol. Even beforehand though, I rarely went. Last time I did was on a date with Girt. We had fun. Do you have a drive-in theater? No sir. What brand is your favorite shoe? Converse. Is your best friend's mom like your own? They're quite similar, yes. Both are very sweet and caring for others. Do you have anxiety or depression? Try both. What is your favorite fast food restaurant? Sonic. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? Nah. Have you and your friends ever made up a word? Likely as kids. Do you have any embarrassing baby pictures of yourself? Not that I know of. What is the worst smell in the world? Anyone remember that survey I took mentioning my dog's old tumor? Yeah, that after he spent overnight in a diaper and inevitably peed himself in his old age. And he had a UTI. You probably can't even imagine how fucking vomit-inducing that smell was. Do you dye your hair a lot? No. :/ I really wish. I have so many colors I wanna try. Do you have anybody in your family who rides dirtbikes/fourwheelers? Not really? No one in my family owns one. My younger sister would totally go if you asked her and had one for her to use, though. She's done it plenty before. Have you ever rode a dirtbike/fourwheeler? Yeah, a fourwheeler, and it's really fun! Tell me how you got one of your scars? Hmmm, let's think of a unique one. Ah, my shins, left one especially. When I shave my legs, they get unbelievably itchy, even if I use lotion, and I would scratch my skin absolutely raw so often that I have permanent scars. It's partially why I barely shave my legs anymore. Have you ever had a friend who cut themselves? I know many, sadly. I don't know of any that still do, thankfully. I promise, it never helps. If you ever have the urge, I can't suggest enough running where you want to self-harm under cold water or slap the location (like your wrist) with a rubber band. The latter is especially helpful. It's a similar burning sensation and doesn't leave marks. It would help me refrain sometimes. What is your favorite thing to do in the summer? Swim in a nice, warm pool. Otherwise, become a hermit and wait for the outdoors to not be prepared to melt the flesh off my bones. x_x Do you go tanning or do you lay out? Neither, ugh. As you can guess from above, I hate the sensation of heat on me. What is your favorite skin lotion? I just really like cocoa butter. Smells really good and is perfectly moisturizing. Do you use a lot of hair products? The only hair product I use is shampoo, haha. Do you have a cousin you dislike? No. Well, one is incredibly brainwashed and misled by her psychopath of a father, but I love her nonetheless. We talk now and again because family is important to her. Have you ever heard Theory of a Deadman? Yeah, they're good. What is your comfort food? Absolutely ice cream. Who is your celebrity crush? Mark Fischbach/Markiplier is a perfect human being with the looks of a god and heart of a saint and you cannot convince me otherwise. What’s the song you most wish you had written? "Imagine" by John Lennon is a high contendant, for sure. Definitely something I'd write. Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I think so at one point or another. Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? Ha, for sure. Have you ever been interrupted during sex? A bitch knows how to act asleep if she hears a door so much as barely squeak, I'll tell you that much lmaooo. Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? No. Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? No. Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? I've barely actually cooked anything in order TO fuck up. Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I can't say with certainty, but I think Jason's mom had her doubts about me at first because she commented on the ripped jeans I wore when I went to his house for the first time. She came to love me like her own though, and I love(d) her. I was actually just thinking about her and how she's doing the other day. What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Always? Perhaps sour candy, like Sour Punch Straws in specific. Ever held a newborn animal? Many kittens, yes. Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I do, but just for the annual appeal of it. I don't actually believe it will have any effect on what I wished, it's just... normal, ig. What is the last thing you searched for online? Medical coding classes. Having trouble finding any free ones that are actually legit... Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when it's hot in your room? It's borderline impossible. Do you dunk your cookies in milk? Sometimes, and almost always with Oreos. Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Ha, speaking of medical coding... No, not really. It's unnerving to hear "you have _____," but I understand it can be something so, so minor. Of course, it could be the exact opposite, but. I also actually find it quite interesting to learn the Latin roots of the terms. Are you afraid of failure? Beyond measure. Have you been called a bad influence? Yes, to my former friend's son. Not that that witch of a woman was a great person. I'd love to know how an infant can be negatively affected by receiving nothing but love from his "aunt," also having no concept of understanding about me being unemployed and not very "adult-ish" in general, which I'm sure is what she meant. Normally judgment hits me deep, but that shit I just rolled my eyes at.

[camillesfm]

。· . ˙ ⌈ alva bratt + cis female + she / her + the  intangible concept ⌋  yo ,  have  you  meet  that  KOOK  ,  camille 'cj' petersen ,  yet ?  — no ?  well ,  to  give  you  a  little  heads  up  before  you  do  ,  they’re  a  TWENTY   year  old ,  PRE-LAW STUDENT  ,  and  have  been  living  in  coston  for  TWENTY . since  i’ve  known  them  ,  they’ve  reminded  me  of PALE PINK POINTE SHOES , CHAINS MADE OF WHITE CLOVERS , A PURPLE SKY JUST BEFORE SUNRISE , STEADY WAVES CRASHING AT LOW TIDE , AND SHATTERED & SCATTERED GLASS . usually  they’re  quite  LEVELHEADED  &  THOUGHTFUL  but  just  make  sure  you  keep  an  eye  out  for  them  around  town  because  i  heard  can  be  quite  RETICENT  &  ALOOF  as  well  so  here’s  hoping  they  aren’t  the  ones  to  undo  this  whole  peace  pact  they  have  going  on  this  summer .  but  just  between  you  &  me ,  i  kinda  hope it  all  falls  apart .  the  rivalry  keeps  this  whole  boring  town  interesting . –– this is cj . . . let’s just . . . dive into this mess ! 

𝐁 𝐀 𝐂 𝐊 𝐆 𝐑 𝐎 𝐔 𝐍 𝐃 .

scarlett petersen is a name known statewide, as she’s the best corporate lawyer on the east coast, clever as the devil and twice as pretty with long blonde hair often pinned into a sleek ponytail. david petersen got his degree at vanderbilt university, moving on to get his phd at unc chapel hill where he could never quite shake that carolina blue. he’s been sitting chancellor for the past six years in tandem with a long term sports-medicine, neuroscience research project that studies the long term affects of brain damage in athletes in contact sports. they both hail from old money families, and long lines of success are continued in two people who hold appearance and accomplishment far above humility or even . . . . humanity lol. they’re good people, really . . . just not really the parenting type.

which is unfortunate! as.  well into their marriage, they had twins, caleb, first, and camille, ten minutes later. bright eyed and blonde haired, the perfect petersen babies were angels in their infancy, and it was easy to parent them . . . especially when they were paying someone else to do it.

caleb and camille grew up under the watchful eye of a rosy-cheeked nanny. think julie andrews as nanny in eloise. they were happy, but lonely, though you’d never guess it by their wide smiles in cuddled family portrait christmas cards. for all anyone else knew, scarlett and david were perfect parents, raising two beautiful children who they loved more than anything . . . but behind that iron gated entryway to a house on the coast was another story.

they liked their kids, sure, but whether or not they loved them was another question entirely. camille, growing up to be the spitting image of scarlett, was liked in the way a rare porcelain artifact was. she was a beautiful thing to behold; seen, not spoken to. shown off, not interacted with in anyway. held with delicate hands and passed around as a humble brag: look at this precious thing i’ve brought into the world. i bet mine’s better than yours. 

but as time passed, the novelty of having children seemed to wear off, and they were moving to the next big thing, the next big step in their careers. they weren’t around when camille began going by cj because it was easier for little voices to say. they weren’t around when blonde ringlets relaxed and grew darker. they weren’t around when she started to develop a personality of her own, interests of her own, talents of her own. christmas cards would go out, but rarely were they all together on christmas morning. thanksgivings were often spent with grandparents, as their parents worked through the holiday. they spent more and more time away from coston, leaving cj and caleb in nanny’s capable hands.

but life goes on, and sometimes it was easy to forget that it was abnormal not to have your parents around. as a youngin, cj was interested in everything. she took a liking to soccer and lacrosse, painting and drawing, piano and guitar . . . but somewhere in between a blue mat and pale pink pointe shoes, she found her thing.

it was obvious, from an early age, that cj was one hell of a dancer. disciplined and precise when she needed to be. creative and passionate when it called for it. gymnastics trained her strength, ballet trained her patience, contemporary pushed her limits with creativity, partner work taught her teamwork. dance was very clearly her best thing and her favorite thing.

her parents only ever attended recitals when it didn’t conflict with anything else on their schedules and when it was classical ballet. dance was a frivolous thing for them, but for cj it was everything. being a naturally shy kid, naturally timid in the shadow of her last name, she became a completely different person on stage who dominated a spotlight . . . without even needed a literal spotlight. ultimately, this is what she spent her life doing. monday through thursday evenings, dance. competitions and performances on the weekends. if neither were happening, you’d catch her teaching classes at coston’s local studio.

it’s what truly made her happy, but that wasn’t something her parents understood. caleb and nanny did, sure, but her parents? not one bit. someone would ask what she wanted to be when she grew up, and if dance was mentioned, she’d be cut off mid-sentence. they didn’t want to hear about it because it wasn’t logical. you can’t make a career out of it. it didn’t help much that her brother was the ideal child in that realm, charming and on a path to success in the medical field. they still had questionable motives, but they favored nonetheless.

sometimes it was a blessing; sometimes it was a curse. when she could slip under the radar, she was grateful, but it seemed that her parents had a keen eye for her screwups. any chance they had, they’d use to scold her or nudge her away from the pointe shoes.

so cj spent a lot of time being pristine in the way that was expected of her, never letting anyone know too much about her, only keeping a few friends close enough to really know her. she stayed out of trouble, kept up exceptional grades, smiled and nodded when necessary, and began catering to the idea that she’d go to law school, a fate pre-determined by her mother no doubt. 

nowadays, she attends brown university, pre-law. she’s a picturesque ivy league gal with a dark academia aesthetic when at school, but there’s a restlessness lingering under the surface. even she’s doing what her parents require of her, she never seems to live up to their unrealistic expectations. we rly do be . . . . waiting for her to have a complete breakdown . . . . aklsdfjha

𝐏 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 𝐎 𝐍 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 .

miss camille . . . better known around town as cj . . . is, above all else, the picture of serenity. she’s levelheaded and calm, and patient as all get out which is probably why she’s so damned accustomed to just going with what her parents thought of her. she’s really great to have in a crisis because very few things cause that steady nature of hers to crumble, and because she’s honestly. . . quietly very maternal. putting the needs of others before her own comes naturally.

she’s quiet and shy, yes, but just because she doesn’t speak doesn’t mean she doesn’t listen. she listens and sees and is . . . quite observant. there’s a way about her that notices the little things, which makes her quite thoughtful when it comes to the people she loves. if you’re lucky enough to be close to her, you can bet she quietly takes notes of little habits and favorites and carefully uses them to idk love ya better ya feel??

reticent comes from the fact that she doesn’t often let people get close to her. the way her parents treated her and caleb growing up has taken. .. . a toll for sure because honestly she’s terrified of disappointing people by shattering the mirror of perfection and revealing too much about herself that’s unexpected

aloof comes from the way she’s calm and quiet . . . and how that sometimes translates as apathy . . . on top of that she’s very daydreamy like she is That Bitch who is staring out of the window producing a whole move in her head which sometimes causes her to not hear when people are talking to her . . . cue the ‘hm? what?’ tuning back in

when i say cj is a different person when she’s dancing . . . . i mean it. like i REALLY mean it. she’s confident and expressive. her choreography tests the limits of tradition. she pushes boundaries when it comes to the physicality of performances. like u rly look at her being quiet and to herself in the corner at a country club event and then see her performing like she invented contemporary and ur like . .. . are u SURE that’s the same girl

people who know her most know her as warm. when she opens up, getting past the shy, she can be a little goofy, definitely has avery creative way about her, wants to know that you’re okay and if you’re not, how can she help ya know!! 

has a black cat named lucky because ya know . . . black cats are bad luck . . . ha ha ha ha . . . get it

the ‘j’ in cj is for her middle name . . . but no one really knows what her middle name is . . . except family and close, close friends 

absolutely hates the energy of the pogue/kook rivalry and thinks violence is most cERTAINLY not the way to go

often times found by the shoreline at night, just a little ways off from the petersen estate because she likes the way the waves sound as they roll in. it helps her think

is trying to make the best of law school by studying to become a defense attorney and she likes it! sort of! really, she just wants to dance for as long as she can and ultimately open up her own studio

definitely believes in wishing stars

bad case of insomnia

has a finsta dedicated to lucky

has a dance insta too . . . . but that’s lowkey bc her parents can’t know about it

please for the love of god watch this because charity and cj have the same energy

this also has cj energy

so does this . . . classical is fun when it’s telling a story and she loves a good pas de deaux but otherwise meh

my girl is physically . .. QUITE strong

says sorry WAY too often

incessant need to prove herself, prove her worth, since her parents never seem to find it

loves caleb sfm but will thump him in the forehead for mentioning he’s older

overachiever . . . . yikes

ABSOLUTELY burns the candle at both ends

idk if y’all watched high school musical the musical the series but gina . . . . . ..  minus the ‘mean girl’ plot they tried . . .. is v cj and bitch i hate to say it but neville longbottom??? also a cj mood LMAO

OK THAT’S IT THAT’S ALL THERE WE GO IT’S DONE I’M DONE GBYYYYYE BABIIIIE

[fallforkadi]

Hello there!

So today i have something that can interest us, kd supporters. Idk if this a analisys¿? but yeah more like me just ranting, what's new lmao. Today a super popular artist where i'm from announced on her instagram that she's having a baby and that she has been with her partner for 7 years, ok, the interesting part is that her partner is a woman.

No one, literally no one from the general public knew she was dating someone, much less that she has been together with a woman for 7 YEARS, like she kept her relationship in secret for 7 freakin years and just released the news yesterday on her instagram because she wanted to share with her fans that she and her partner are having a baby. In her post tho, says really interesting things regarding her wishes and things about the media.

I'm going to translate her post (this) for people who doesn’t speak spanish can read it, please have in mind i'll do my best to translate accurately but sometimes translating from language to language can lost some meaning.

Music is my form of expression/comunicating with you all. I've shared with you every part of my life through it. The most precious thing I have in my life and that I protect the most is my family and my intimacy and I'm very thankful that my coworkers on the music industry (other artist, media, press) have always respect it. I wanted to share this beautiful and important news in my life with you on the day it arrived (the baby) but there are people who are already spreading misleading info with bad feelings just for the morbo of it. (she wanted to wait but bc of some people she has to make this public rn)  Since I was a kid I've always seen relationships more than in a black and white spectrum: two persons loving each other with consent for me is love no matter the gender. And despite I never thought that the love of my life was going to be a woman, we met 7 years ago and love took us by surprise. At first it was hard for both of us to accept the fact that we had arrived to our destiny. But putting the fear aside, I opened my arms totally to my happiness. Today my wife and I are expecting our first baby, a beautiful baby girl that thanks to god she's arriving full of life and love. My job is music/making music and when I stand in front of my dear media coworkers I just want to talk about it: my job, no more, nor less. I'm going to be the only one to decide when and how much I'm going to share about my life and intimacy with the world just like how i've been doing it until this day. I love every one of you and i'm very thankfull to infinity to have you.

note: i guess she says media are her coworkers because media, press, public figures all works together/in sync/in the same field¿?

She has been with her partner all this time, the media knew, her friends knew, public figures knew, everyone from the job and her private life knew but no one said ANYTHING in years, the general public knew NOTHING about this. They were literally a known secret within the industry.

Doesn't her relationship remembers you of some other rs? Yep, since the first time I read about it my brain can't stop ringin with KD KD KD, lol. I mean, I think every KD supporter knows that KD is basically this, a known secret within the industry, of course people they know know about their rs. Have in mind that KD are BOTH public figures and IN THE SAME group so it only complicates more their rs, both have fans (and ofc sasaengs) so they need to be extra careful meanwhile I think in her rs her partner is not from the industry so is more easy to hide. (i guess)

So basically if she was able to do it, of course KD can as well, i'm sure as hek more public figures hides their private lifes, there's another artist that was HUGE here (all mothers knows and loves him lmao, the common joke is that he's the father of our generation because every mom say he's the father of their child) but he NEVER let media expose his family, literally people knew he had a wife and kids like 15+ years into his career. And I'm pretty sure there's a lot more examples like these all around the world. I just wanted her case to be my main example here because as KD, her relationship it’s an homosexual one, it was possible for them to hide it despite how juicy the info must has been for the media, I mean, even if here we're more open to lgbt+ people it's still a pretty big deal when a public figure comes out just imagine that on SK.

What's my point? That is possible for public figures as KD to maintain a secret relationship, a secret homosexual relationship FOR YEARS, with people from their work/friends knowing, people from the MEDIA knowing (i mean, remember the video abt the reaction of the mc on weekl.y id.ol when a kd pic shows up) and still have no one from the general public/fans knowing about it, ofc in every country is different, there’s a lot of factors that can decide if something is leak but I think that media works almost the same everywhere so this situations can apply to anyone in the industry all around the world. I know in SK sasaengs are more common but I mean they have been doing a pretty good job until now keeping KD in the dark lmao.

Something she said in her post stayed in my head the most "I'm going to be the only one to decide when and how much I'm going to share about my life and intimacy with the world" this is so true to some extend, it's up to public figures or/and their companies how much their private life goes out, they for sure have friends/contacts in the media so it's highly possible that they are inform of the majority of their scandals beforehand the media post about it for a $olution to happen and don't release anything, ofc that's not always the case because I mean we still get scandals, right? but yeah, people think they know all about their idols but have in mind that 10% we know about them it's just what they want us to know.

And for us international fans is more difficult to know things, this leads me to talk about the "newest" KD moment that came out, the cute "Ji grabbing and patting Ks' hips" moment. This moment was from a fansign that happened 5-6 months ago (i think), there was a fanacc that talked about the moment at the time but the video just came out now (correct me if im wrong tho). Just think in all the moments, in all the photos, in all the videos we didn't get to see, we didn't get to live at all and no one said anything. Or the moments that reach us months or years after it happened (because it has happened in the past, this is not the first time a KD moment reach us months/years after it happened). I remember someone here saying something along the lines that if korean fans knows 10%, we overseas fans know just like 5% of things or less. Let that sink in.

So please don't be discourage when antis say things about KD, like kxk and jxk were real because media exposed them, lol i mean if someone can hide a relationship for YEARS with almost everyone from the industry KNOWING, I guess it's pretty easy to make fake scandals to protect said relationship so please take this cases as examples and make your own criteria, don't let people, media or fake scandals think for you, i know it's hard to swim against the flow but we can do it.

So that's it, if someone want to add more about this you can reply to this post or my ask is always open if you want to talk. English is not my first language so bare with me please. TT I have a lot of things in my head but it's still very dificult for me to express them in another language so please don't be so harsh on me if this post lacks sense lmao. I love KD with all my heart.

[freebooter4ever]

color/scent association, tagged by @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r

under the cut because im longwinded af

red/orange: I’m combining these because there is a particular shade of burnt red that is unconsciously my favorite color, over half my clothes feature this color (the other half are pink), and it’s because it’s the shade of my grandparent’s carpet. Both my grandparents favorite color is red and they bought the house in the 60′s, though that doesn’t excuse them for picking this truly hideous carpet color. But it was my favorite place, my favorite smell in the world growing up. Taking my micro-machines down the river of hot lava stairs safe inside the micro-machine floating aircraft carrier was a memorable pastime. The light through the front windows faded parts of the deep red carpet to a bright bright orange, so it really was like fire (and the orange matched their truly god awful scratchy orange couch that felt like sitting on a burlap sack). My grandparents loved this ugly carpet so much they kept it for 55 years and when I asked her what she would miss the most when moving out of her house, my grandma answered the carpet because no one makes carpet in that shade of red anymore.

yellow: I feel like lemon is the too easy answer here, but I really love that JR Watkins lemon hand soap. I’d never tried it until I lived in Nick’s sister’s house so now I kinda associate the smell with that time - clean, bright, airy, plus bonus dog, in a 1950′s brick house with a crumbling two story staircase climb to the entrance that was like a death trap when covered in ice. The tiny kitchen there was like the social center of the house, so many roommates and we all ended up there at various times and ALL hours of the day (Sarah was ALWAYS baking and half of it was for fundraising for her dance company and the other half was always Kale Chips which was the most disgusting snack yet I pretended to love it for her sake) - I met Nick at 3am on thanksgiving day after I finally came home from work to find a stranger sitting on the kitchen floor eating pie. The second place I have seen this lemon hand soap is my favorite organic cafe near ohiopyle where I’d stop and get mayo free coleslaw every time I drove out to the country to sit and write by the river rapids - which also reminds me of Nick because of him being a ‘dirtbag’ river guide for a good chunk of his life in PA.

green:  Freshly cut grass, which seems like an easy answer, but after living away from the pacific northwest for a time I’ve come to realize that the pine tree forests smell VASTLY different than any other forests. I miss it desperately. One of those things where you grow up thinking it’s normal, and everybody lives perpetually surrounded by the smell of pine needles until you move away for ten years and discover that nope, its not. Kind of like how I thought floating bridges were the norm and was shocked to discover seattle was one of the only places to have them.

blue: Chlorine in the neighborhood pools my friends and I practically lived in all summer during grade school.

purple: i actually can’t think of anything for purple...

pink: Lavender, which seems backwards since it’s not purple but I heavily associate pink with clothes, and all my clothes smell as much like lavender as I can get. My grandma on my mom’s side grew up in 1930′s Oklahoma farm country during the dustbowl, and her dad was a pest control man (there’s a photo of her as a teen here on this blog somewhere where she’s in her dad’s truck - the ugliest photo of her I’ve ever seen and the only one where my mom claims I actually look like my beautiful grandmother) - anyway, to keep bugs out of their own house my grandma and her mother used to sew little lavender satchels and hide them in the drawers. They used the prettiest scraps of fabric, and even edged them with lace sometimes. Much much later my grandma gave a few to me to put in my clothes drawers and my tiny child brain decided they were Much Too Pretty to be used in drawers so I repurposed them into doll pillows. But the ones she gave me were pink satin with white lace and always smelled like lavender. There’s other reasons lavender and pink became kind of a sacred smell for me after the Hell Year but I’m not gonna get into that lol.

brown: Those huge wood pilings on the side of docks - specifically the ones used near the ferries that travel to and from Whidbey Island. This is a distinct smell, but it’s not unique and I’ve smelled it in other areas but the Mukilteo Ferry will always be the original for me. The smell and color associated with such things like The Center For Wooden Boats which I grew up around thanks to my mom while also being NOT ALLOWED to sail for reasons my mother never explained (she knew how to sail, my grandpa lives on a sailboat down in the carribean for fucks sake)(when i told nick about that i thought nick would understand i was saying i never wanted to leave family behind like that, not that he’d take it as life advice), and also associated with that one specific railroad bridge that crosses the lake sammamish bicycle thoroughfare which Sanjeev used to live along that I think must have been built out of the same type of old weathered wood and I spent many days running past it, also also associated with the Edgewater where my cousin got married on the same day as the local Hemp Festival so the smell of ocean and old wood was mixed with the smell of marijuana, and tons of high hippies were cavorting through the streets in front of the hotel and the Myrtle Edwards Park (my mom’s favorite park - my dad’s side of the family only liked this park because it was within walking distance of the Old Spaghetti Factory) and the entire wedding party walked from the church at Holy Names Academy down to the hotel for the reception, and we all got mixed up in the revelers. And I was walking with grandma and grandpa and at least five different people stopped to declare how splendid my grandpa’s fancy pale blue suit looked. This was before pot was legal in washington, btw.

black: whatever the fuck the smell of all the collective music events Naeem threw was...so - alcohol? smoke? sweat? weird air? I don’t even know, but I’m nostalgic as heck for it. Half the time the parties were just a black void for dancing but you sure could smell it. It’s not exactly a smell I can describe but it’s one I recognize. Cramped dark rooms, weird paintings on the wall - naked people / black light owl / hipster wallpaper, shitty beat up flooring, crowds of people half who feel familiar, quirky lighting, racks of bicycles hung from the ceiling in one instance, fog and a long artificially elongated room in another, music videos that rarely make sense but are good for something to stare at instead of making conversation (dancing monkeys?), an underground art deco bank vault door, disco balls, brick houses with narrow wooden decks behind alleys to cool off on, snow, and THAT SMELL.

tagging @aboutthatmelancholystorm ,  @lollki , @revolverwaffle bc i saw you online for a min old friend, and @lieblinggs

[kaceyrps]

Since I think I might finally have some more time, I’d love to start some new plots under the cut are a few I really want rn, but I’m always open to plotting something else out. If you like anything, just hum or hit the heart!

Plots

can someone pls give me a ‘you left 3 yrs ago in the middle of the night with not even a goodbye letter and now you’re on my door step w a kid that looks exactly like me’ plot pls

I really want to do a 1x1 where Muse A and Muse B, met at a bar one night and ended up having a deep conversation that culminated in a make-out session. Muse A promised to call Muse B, but never did and Muse B didn’t have Muse A’s phone number. A couple of months passed with Muse B thinking about their night with Muse A - not being able to find that connection with someone else. Then Muse B finally meets Muse A again, only to find Muse A is dating their best friend. Despite both parties trying to push aside their feelings after meeting again, things get complicated. (They could either decide to keep things friendly or it would lead to a relationship, depending on how the rp goes).

we absolutely hate each other but we’re the romantic leads so i guess we have to make this work

i’m the stage manager and you’re the self-absorbed diva, so naturally we despise each other

i’m the understudy for your character’s love interest and since he’s not here today you asked me to help you run the kissing scene and i’m really attracted to you

A plot based on cutting edge

consider this: classic “one of the boys” girl who hangs out with the frat bros accidentally falling in love with an elle woods-esque sorority girl that she meets at a party??? muse a comes from a family w like a million older brothers so ofc she makes a beeline for the frats when she gets to college bc she feels most comfortable around boys. the only thing is, she dreads their mixers with the sorority girls bc she hates the “prissy glitter bitches” and wants to vomit whenever she sees lilly pulitzer lmao. so when muse b comes up to her at one of these mixers and introduces herself, muse a is like lol ok w/e. but to her surprise, muse b is actually like…. interesting and smart and yes definitely ridiculous but she’s still shocked that she actually has a personality. and when muse b keeps seeking her out at the mixers, muse a suddenly finds herself more and more flustered as she realizes that she has a GIANT ASS CRUSH on this girl. honestly pls just give me cute college girls in love with frat bros cheering for them in a non-gross manner

give me a couple that met through youtube ( maybe one of them mentioned the other on their channel, through mutual friends, at an event/meet-up ? how they actually connected is up to you ! oh – and they could have polar opposite channels or similar channels ! ) who started off as friends doing trendy collab videos, but everyone fell in love with their dynamic and pointed out how natural their chemistry was or how one looked at the other and vice versa ––- the little things ! what the viewers didn’t know was that muse a was crushing hard on muse b and muse b was crushing equally hard on muse a, but obviously neither one of them were going to risk ruining their great friendship. soon enough, the two spilled their woes and became an item, however they kept it a secret for a few months. finally, after much debate they decided to go public and their subscribers went wild some saying ‘they knew all along’ or ‘they’re so happy’ while others said it ’wouldn’t last’ or ‘they’re doing it for the views’. fast forward to a few years later: now they’re living together in ( california, england, anywhere ! ), documenting their daily shenanigans for their shared vlogging channel, attending events, and keeping their separate channels fresh and exciting with occasional or frequent collabs ! 

13 going on 30 plot where they were really close when they were younger, and then they both went there separate ways. and then they meet up later on, and they just start spending a lot of time together and start becoming best friends and then they slowly start to fall in love with each other (✿◠‿◠) liKE PLEASE I NEED THIS!!

wild child: muse a is sent to a horrific private boarding school. no phone, no laptop. it’s like being back in the 17th century. muse a is a wild child, always has been, and they refused to be disciplined. they need a way out of this school and fast- and no better solution comes then muse b.. the principals child that comes to visit on weekends and is loved by all, and extremely good looking. the plan is easy, get muse b’s attention, make them fall for muse a and get caught by the principal and get out of this school. but then those pesky real feelings start to get in the way, and what started as a way to leave, has started to turn into a reason to stay.

the duff: muse a has never been conventionally attractive, and that has never bothered them before. until one day at a party when muse b asks muse a where their friends are. when muse a states it’s not their job to disclose information on their friends, muse b calls them something they’ll never forget. duff. designated. ugly. fat. friend. a mean word, sure, but then slowly… muse a starts to see it. their friends are incredible, good looking, everybody knows them. and muse a is a no one. forced to be paired together in a school assignment together, muse a can’t stand muse b and their cocky, arrogant attitude. muse b continues to call muse a ‘duffy’, thinking it’s funny and gets on their nerves. in a moment of blind anger- muse a finds themselves slamming muse b into a wall. and then proceeding to angrily make out with them. kissing turns into removal of clothes, and before they know it muse a and muse b have slept together. muse a swears it will never happen again, and muse b loves taunting muse a. but they just tick each other off in the wrong way, and end up having angry, hot, rushed sex more and more. it’s just physical anger relief for muse a, but muse b starts to genuinely fall for muse a. when they reveal it though- muse a blows up and demands to know why anybody would want to be with the duff, let alone muse b. suddenly, muse b realises the nickname was more then just a joke and a way to get under muse a’s skin and that they’ve really truly hurt the one person they love.

muse a and muse b had lived in the same town their entire lives. on the first day of kindergarten, they sat across from each other on the bus and muse b offered muse a one of his animal crackers. from then on, they were attached at the hip. they remained inseparable through elementary school, and by the time middle school came around, muse a found puberty working in her favor. muse a was outgoing, funny, and beautiful, and everyone wanted to be her friend. muse b, on the other hand, was awkward and shy, and the only attention he got was negative. despite their differences, muse a and muse b remained close friends, and muse a often found herself having to defend muse b against the bullying. in the middle of 8th grade, muse b disappeared from school and moved halfway across the country with his family. muse a tried to stay in touch, but it seemed like every time she reached out to him, she was brushed off. eventually the two lost connection and moved on.fast forward to high school. muse a finds herself caught up in the wrong crowd, and after a string of pregnancy rumors, she loses most of her close friends and becomes virtually invisible. muse a pours herself into her love of poetry and writing to try and entertain her loneliness. that is, until she walks into school to find an extremely attractive boy leaned up against her locker. muse b is back, and despite all of his new found attention from girls, he only has eyes for muse a.

i need a plot where muse a and muse b recently broke up and then muse a gets in some kind of accident and suffers temporary amnesia and forGETS they were ever broken up and its SO awkward for muse b but hes still in love with muse a and too afraid to tell the truth so he’s just waiting for muse a to remember and !!! fake relationships ! secrets ! pining ! fluff ! angst ! everything goodb y e

someone give me a “i’m the legacy of the prim and proper stereotypical sorority on campus and i’m expected to rush, live, and breathe it throughout my time here and it’s the night before rush and i got invited to this party at the rival, party girl sorority and that girl over there is really pretty and keeps smiling at me and now her mouth is on mine and i’m a little more than drunk and in bed with her and i wake up the next morning and she’s gone, i don’t even know her name. and now it’s rush night and - holy shit…there she is, and she’s the president of the rival, party girl sorority.” plot,,1!!!!!!!

Muse A just had their heart broken and decided to shy away from relationships, so their friends dragged them out for a night to get them out of the house. Enter muse B. Someone who spends the night flirting with muse A, but gets nowhere. Muse B gives muse A their number, saying if they change their mind to call. Muse A, after some prompting from friends, calls muse B and they go out on a date – one they both enjoy. But just as muse A comes around to the idea of a new relationship, muse B finds out that muse A’s ex, is muse B’s sibling. Muse A and muse B had the perfect marriage. They were happy, just bought their first house and had a baby. Until muse B tragically died – or at least that’s what muse A thought. Muse B had witnessed a crime, and had to be put in witness protection. Not wanting to risk the life of muse A and their child, muse B let them believe that they were dead. When the trial is finally over with, and the threat is locked away, muse B is left to go back to their old life but has no idea how to tell muse A about what happened.

Muse A is seen as the town’s rebel and isn’t exactly well known for following the rules. Muse B is the new principle’s child, and wanting to get back at their parent for moving them without asking, muse B decides they want to date muse A. It’s just unfortunate timing, since muse A decided to try and clean up their act - something muse B is determined not to let happen.

Things I want plots based on

The candy jar

Disney’s zombies

Lizzie McGuire

Descendants 

Hocus Pocus

Chrismas Inheritance 

Prince & Me

Charmed 

Gilmore Girls

Harry Potter

Secret Circle 

Parent Trap

10 things I hate about you

Drive me crazy

Ships I’d like

Peter Parker/MJ

Fitzsimmons 

Mumu ideas

summer camp counselors: between the ages of 18 ad 21, volunteers from colleges around the country (BONUS: around the entire world) flock here to guide children through the summer of their lives, coincidentally also making this the best summer of their own lives.

co-ed college dorms:  Simply a group of students living in one building, trying to get along and figure themselves out in the process.

tour: There’s a band on the rise to fame and they’ve brought along two opening acts and entire crew that helps make the entire process that much smoother. Heads will clash, too many personalities together for too many months on end.

sleepy beach town: Every summer there are quite a few families that spend their summers unwinding in a town far from home. There are families that have become quite close due to the three months spent out of every month in this small town. There are also those families that are spending their first year here. This could test friendships and even relationships that have already developed.

kids of famous people: over the years, it’s been no secret that the celebrities we’ve known to love and care for from afar have grown to have families of their own. Now, it’s their children’s turn to make something of their lives. Do they follow in their parents footsteps or do they do something entirely different? Are they snotty self absorbed or do they give back every chance they get? There are millions of possibilities.

apartment complex: A bunch of diverse people all living in one building together. There’s this small family type bond between them but they still aren’t afraid to start crap when it’s necessary. At the end of the day, they will always have each others back when it’s needed

gossip girl: it’s been 25 years since Dam Humphry came out as Gossip Girl. There have been plenty of fakes trying to capture the things he’d been able to for all those years but no one could ever live up to the greatness that was the true Gossip Girl. Until now. There’s a new gossip site online that’s got their eye on everything happening around the New York elite. Rumors spread that Dan’s back in the game after all these years but there’s someone greater wreaking havoc on these young adults lives. (Could be the kids of the former group and their friends or an entirely different crew of elite)

[dillydedalus]

august reading

minus my women in translation month reads, because i’m still working on the last one but want to include it... that wrap-up will come in a few days once i’m done with the last book. 

not all dead white men: classics and misogyny in the digital age, donna zuckerberg classicist donna zuckerberg (facebook dude’s sister!) talks about how the alt-right, pick-up artists, incels etc. use the classics to assert & justify their misogyny and racism & portray themselves as the inheritors/saviours of western civilisation etc. the main examples she looks at are stoicism, ovid’s ars amatoria, and ancient narratives about sexual violence, which were all really interesting, but i feel like this could have been expanded a lot. 3.5/5

magic for liars, sarah gailey fun & cool crime story about a murder at a secret magical school (school nurse cut in half in magical library!), answering the burning question of what would happen if petunia dursley became a somewhat dysfunctional PI & had to solve a magical murder at hogwarts, where lily is a teacher. 3/5

the lie tree, frances hardinge frances hardinge writes the kind of middle grade/YA books i wish i could have read between like 10-14, where the world is spooky and the girls are angry spiteful stubborn resourceful sneaky things. i loved a skinful of shadows and i loved the lie tree, where curious snake girl (not literally it’s not that kind of a book) has to investigate her scandal-hounded natural scientist father’s death by spreading lies on the miserable island he died on and literally feeding them to spooky science-defying tree - and faith is very good at lying, and very angry, and very much willing to drag the whole island down with her. read for spooky trees, fake ghosts, and victorian male natural scientists being dumb and sexist & victorian female (& thus secret) natural scientist being smart & awesome. 4.5/5

the dead ladies project: exiles, expats & ex-countries, jessa crispin i have been at turns in love & really annoyed with crispin’s 2012 essay on william james, berlin & her own mental breakdown (x) since uh..... 2012 - it says some really interesting things about berlin’s capital-i Image as the city for self-destructive broke & weird messes, it’s very quotable, while also being some of the most irritating Anglophone Expat in Berlin Bullshit ever concocted (’we have surprisingly affordable rents’ sure didn’t age well.....) and saying almost nothing about the actual city outside of the Expat Bubble (apparently every single person in berlin is here because they feel like a failure.... YALL SOME PEOPLE JUST LIVE HERE). this book, structured around crispin’s soul-searching trip around europe, with each city being discussed in connection with an artist/writer/artist’s wife/etc who lived there, opens with that essay and i’m still torn. the thing is, crispin is smart & well-read & occasionally capable of some interesting insight & good writing..... she is also at times utterly insufferable, ranting at length about how she despises women who perform learned helplessness & prioritise men over everything else only to turn around & do the same fucking thing over & over, incl. going on endlessly about her torturous affair with a married writer, performing her ‘broke but independent woman traveller’ while uh.... staying at a friend’s luxurious farmhouse in switzerland for free... at one point she says she never felt at home in kansas bc based on her looks people don’t believe she’s really from kansas & constantly ask her where she’s REALLY from because.... y’all.... while she’s a good-looking white woman she has an ANGULAR FACE. sure jan. there is so much cool stuff in here, and i wish crispin had kept some most of the personal stuff out of it. 2/5 

mansfield park, jane austen hmmmm... austen is always good but this feels like it’s maybe the one novel of hers that is most negatively affected by values dissonance in that its morality feels like it’s from an alien culture which considers a private theatre performance to be the very height of impropriety (aka regency england apparently); as a result, fanny, a passive, timid, neglected girl of strong convictions often comes across as a moralistic prig (i will make no excuses for edmund, who’s just a patronising sanctimonious prig outright). there’s a quiet sort of triumph in fanny’s integrity & conviction in the face of a literal campaign of harrassment from everyone in her life including the dude she’s in love with to marry a reforming (maybe) rake & i love her for that, but her triumph in returning to mansfield park elevated in the esteem of everyone there (except aunt norris who is delightfully vile) feels empty considering that these are the same people who previously neglected her. also edmund sucks. 3/5 #justice4marycrawford #mary/fannyOTP #alsoarewegonnatalkabouttheslavery #guessnot

fool’s quest (fitz & the fool #2), robin hobb the first one in this trilogy was pretty much slow-paced set-up and character development... this one is much better: there’s a lot going on & the character development feels much more organic & complex - fitz seems to have come down from Peak Dumbass a bit & i really liked how it developed shun (shine!!!) and lant, who felt really one-dimensionally awful last book. also there are so many moments when the farseer family really comes thru for fitz & i cried literally every single time. so yeah. this one’s great, can’t wait for the next one but i also really don’t want it to be over :/ 4/5

what matters in jane austen, john mullan fun little collection of essays looking at specific details and minutae and their meaning/importance in austen’s work - like, how old are the characters (incl. age differences), how do characters address each other, what do games do they play, what about the servants, etc. don’t expect deep litcrit but it’s fun. 2.5/5

dead mountain: the untold true story of the dyatlov pass incident, donnie eichar hello i’m fred & i am obsessed with mountaineering disasters. the dyatlov pass incident refers to a night in 1959 where 9 russian hikers died in the ural mountains after they left their tent half-dressed without shoes for ~mysterious reasons. it’s pretty creepy & theories about it run from ‘avalanche’ to ‘animal [yeti] attack’ to ‘aliens and/or soviet conspiracy theory’. eichar too is super obsessed w/ this mystery and even went to the ural mountains & the dyatlov pass to investigate, which sadly makes for the least interesting (and possibly the longest) part of this book (the other timelines are the dyatlov group hike & the investigations after their deaths). the ‘59 timelines are both interesting tho & provide a good look into how weird the whole thing is. i enjoyed this, but i wish he had cut the endless chapters of him investigating, which is mostly russians being like ‘idk man aliens/radioactivity/secret govt agents?’ and him hiking around in a lot of snow, neither of which really added to his theory or my enjoyment. 2/5

if beale street could talk, james baldwin baldwin’s prose is staggeringly brilliant as always. this is a story about a young black couple (tish, who is the narrator, and fonny) in the 70s who are planning to move together and marry when fonny is wrongly arrested for rape by a racist cop with a grudge; tish and her family try to get him out, especially once tish realises that she’s pregnant. tish is a great narrator, at the same time kind of naive and soft, and full of world-weary cynicism about white institutions and racism, and her narrative voice at times drifts in and out of other characters’ minds, which i found an interesting effect. as many baldwin’s novels this is full of rage & violence & tenderness & tiny sparks of hope. 4/5

lady susan, jane austen epistolary novella about a 35-year-old lady susan, a scheming, ruthless, not-so-grieving widow, who is trying to get her timid daughter frederica married to a buffoon. while staying with her sweetly clueless brother-in-law vernon and trying to win over his much more suspicious wife, she makes the wife’s brother reginald (lol) fall in love with her. a very different protag and story for austen & while the end can’t quite commit to either punishing susan very much or letting her triumph, it is a lot of fun. 3/5

on a sunbeam, tillie walden this is an absolutely beautiful (the colours!) graphic novel about a spaceship crew (the spaceship is a fish) who fly around & restore old space buildings. it’s also a story about a romance between two young girls at a boarding school (in space) and about found families and deep space and there’s not a single man in this, just women and elliot, who’s nonbinary. lovely, dreamy and completely gorgeous. want me a fish spaceship. 4/5

between birthday books and birthday giftcards i also acquired uh.... 12 new books??? which is INSANE. i’m not committing to a book buying ban but i should probably chill a lil in the next few months. 

[tempestshakes01]

happy and anxious. 

happy because i love my apartment and i love Lil Cup of Joe. he is a terror and the sweetest boy ever, and i feel so much love for him. this is why i can’t be around an animal for an extended period of time. i will die for any creature i get attached to and lil joe is now my baby. 

but i am anxious because i put of working when my brother brought home a puppy. he didn’t ask me to, but he’s an idiot who’s never home and bought a puppy to make him come home. i gave him 3 days and when his habits didn’t change, joe was being left alone and untrained, and i needed a running buddy--well, i took over. joe’s now potty-trained and knows a few (one) command. i take him everywhere to socialize him. he’s mine. but i’ll never say that to nick. who still needs to go therapy. i don’t know him. i don’t know what goes on in that head of his. it’s like we switched personalities in our 20s. i went from the quiet, serious type to basically a manic 13 yr old boy. he went from a wildly charismatic clown to a brooding hipster. what makes him laugh? what is he thinking? what is he passionate about? how does he talk to other ppl for hours but he can barely speak to his family for more than half of one? what did we do?

i got really angry the other night thinking about the fights i’ve had with my parents this past year. 

1) washington d.c. - mom and i got into to it in front of the fuckin white house at dusk. i was so emotional and upset at being there, right there where trump fucks over our country, and my mom was being...well, the woman fox news molded. i was furious and trying to keep it nice, so i asked if we could just stop. stop talking. i was gonna blow up. and my mom was like, “why do we stop when you say stop, but when i ask to stop, you continue?” which...is it true? i didn’t think so, and because i can’t keep my mouth shut, i argued until i walked away. i walked into the crowds and then i kept walking. i kept walking. i kept walking.  

it was terrible. i texted her “i’m gone” and i left. 

i forgot the details but i wandered that area of d.c. got a coffee. tried not to cry. and then...remembered how much trouble my mom’s phone was giving her, that her gps apps weren’t being accurate, that she wasn’t confident at the metro, and that it was now dark. that she was alone in an unfamiliar city with a camera bag strapped to her screaming “i’m a tourist!” 

i felt like utter and complete shit. it was one of the most despicable things i’ve ever done. later, i told some people and they were like “she’s a grown woman! you were both upset!” but no. i can’t make excuses like that. i knew that my mom was scared. i burst into tears. a crazy sobbing girl in the middle of d.c. i immediately texted her and told her to get back to me when she got to the hotel. 

an hour later, back at the hotel, my mom couldn’t even look at me. couldn’t speak to me. i knew i had to apologize and i did, wording it carefully because i walking on a minefield. i again blocked out most of the conversation, but it quickly dissolved into a mess of confessions. i was wrecked. at first because of what happened, but as our conversation turned into an argument, i became furious again. over how she interpreted some of our interactions. over how i “blamed” her for my anxiety and anger. i told her i got my anger from her. that i was slow to it like my father, but when something lit inside me it burned bright and hot and deadly like her. that her grudges and cold shoulders hurt me so, so badly when i was a kid (which she then explained wasn’t a grudge, just her processing her anger...but that was way, way into the night). oh god, it was so bad. so bad. she confessed how she felt about all us kids. told me about her problems with andi and nick. told me she wanted to move away from us. told me she didn’t want a relationship with me or them if it was going to be like this. 

i didn’t sleep. just cried and cried. like i did when i was a kid. sobbed in the bathroom and then under my covers. we barely talked the next day, but it slowly became okay. i didn’t know how to explain how much i loved her, so i tried to show her.      

in the end, we were ok enough. 

2) driving 30 hrs across the country - my dad and i were talking and he told me how he didn’t get us, and that we were hurting mom by rejecting her or something. he was upset and my dad doesn’t get upset, so i got upset and moody. and he was like “why are you like this? just with me? just with us. you’re so cruel.” and i knew it was true but it still took me an hour to snap out of it. and i apologized. 

--

but i feel sometimes angry bc i got the emo dump from both my parents. about both my siblings! and they don’t even talk to them about it! my parents don’t even touch nick anymore! they leave him alone because it’s easier that way and he wouldn’t listen even if they tried to talk to him! and my sister would get super huffy and feel judged and act out in some way and take the kids! so. i get it but i hate it!!! because i got the feelings dump! i got the tears and the hours of psychoanalyzing why we are the way we are! and i hate that i feel burdened by it sometimes?

 i want to be there for my parents but sometimes i’m that petulant child that still wants a mommy and daddy, not two parents who are human and exist with their own emotional life. and that’s so unfair to them and wrong of me, but i feel that way because i’m the child that gets this brunt of this side of them.  

but it’s because in my own way im the most difficult and this shit spills out when i push them. 

--

my parents (mostly mom) are only getting more set in their ways and defensive of their opinions. my mom...my mom who taught me so much about art and the world and appreciating different cultures and music and lived life with such vigor and wonder...i can see that fading and hardening. she’s stubborn about what she like and doesn’t have much interest in anything new. she’s offended and hurt when i gently bring up her how she used to be. 

my dad’s always been this way. very traditional, but kind. spoiled, but hardworking. likes what he likes. but he’s eating more greens. he’ll try what i make because i made it. we listened to latino usa and old radio lab podcasts that whole drive from wa to tx, and he loved it, and we discussed the episodes. and i loved him so much because he gave them a shot and we connected. 

but my mom. my mom. i miss her and she’s right there, but she’s not. and i know i’m part of the reason she’s retreated into herself and her more ‘sturdy’ beliefs and the friends who share them. she’s so quick to judge and harsh about it these days. is it age? is it us? is it this horrible world?

--

i came home to this. i came home and how quickly people change bc i didn’t expect my mom to be so old. in spirit. she’s tired. she doesn’t trust me. we’re working on being gentle. i’m working on not being so quick to anger.

my dad and i...i’m thrilled we’re getting along so well after i treated him like shit during the ~separation years~ between my parents. i was awful to him and he knew why, but he never called me out on it. 

my sis and i are fine. i’m so relieved she got out of that last relationship with that TERRIBLE PERSON and came to her senses, and somewhat grew up. we kick it. she cooks for me. we don’t completely jive cause she’s hood, but can code-switch between worlds, and i’m suburban through and through, so i’m not as cool or smooth as she is. i’m her dorky weird little sister and i appreciate her love for me. 

my brother? a mystery. a complete mystery. 

and i’m reminded of how he called me on my birthday and started weeping and asking about therapy and saying he’s sorry he never believed in my anxiety because it’s true--you don’t ask for, you don’t know why it appears, and it wrecks you. and he deals with it now for no discernible reason and he sounded so, so broken over the phone that i was shaking and crying when we hung up.

but now he’s as chill as ever and takes minimal care of his puppy because the 1st dog he got was pretty hands-off from the jump, but she was grown and pooed and peeded everywhere for months (he says no, but that’s selective memory), so now lil joe is mine and i need to get a job because the lack of structure is killlllllllllllllingggggg me. but i don’t want to leave lil joe :( 

--

it’s funny how i never set out to write all this shit, but it comes spilling out. 

huh. wait.

i left and i worked on myself but then i missed my family.

did i come back to work on the family? to work on my relationship with them? is that my purpose here and why i felt compelled to return?

--

went climbing with GA. i was totally afraid of falling and bouldering isn’t as fun to me as top rope, but i wanna keep at it. 

trying to set something up with B and A. my buds. i love em. 

gotta set something up with L because I have a feeling we’ll be good friends here. and weirdly, BG contacted me even though I haven’t talked to him since college? and even then we weren’t that close. he was just inching toward asking me out and never managed it.

--

fav emmy looks: zendaya (obviously. omg, whatta babe), maisie williams (whatta look, suits her perfectly, killed it), gwen christie (whatta jesus babe), that girl in the billowing mint green dress, anddddd clea duvall (a babe in a tux). 

vm continue to make me sad and hopefully things go well with tour for them. it’s nice to see them getting along with charlie and tanith. with bby charlie and tati and max’s kid coming along...oh boy for scott’s emotions. he’s gonna ignore the HELL out of those sad feeling for what couldvebeen with tess and he’s gonna plan hard for his and j’s future offspring instead. (can i also predict that i think one thing scott’s gonna have trouble with in his marriage--oddly enough--is keeping the marriage a partnership and not bulldozing over his spouse with his wants and needs ...wait, that’s not odd lol) 

--

anyway, gotta take joe out to pee. gotta get to bed soon because i wanna be on the trails by 7am and then maybe to the climbing gym. this face maybe a potato but my body can improve! (i’m thicc at the moment thanks to texas food 🤧)