#@my fellow white ppl: fucking do better

[baphometboots]

this might get some people really mad but sometimes i look at what i see ppl say on here and elsewhere. and i think about who people like me dont afford the same charities we demand

i think about the gnc people who get scapegoated for transphobia because theyre easy targets, about the butches and femboys who we only talk about to fetishize or villainize

i think about the black people who get shouted down by fellow white transfems for not conforming to an inoffensive ideal of femininity; who get barked down for speaking about antiblackness they face in trans spaces

i think about the religious minorities who get villainized because we assume their cultures are so backwards and hateful; but turn around and appropriate those cultures for our own cutesy images.

and no less for the native americans or indians from whom we pilfer so much of our radical politics and spirituality, but of course get mad at the mayans in chiapas for not being marxist enough and mad at the aymara and quechua in the andes for not being anarchist enough.

i think about my trans brothers, who by in large showed me more patience and love than i was afforded by my trans sisters for the first 5 years of my knowing (learning) what I am. without the grace i was shown by trans men and other transmasculine people, i would be dead. I would not be here. i think about the disdain they are shown, this sort of assertion of original sin pushed on them.

i think about the fucking vitriol ive been shown so many times in my life by fellow transfems when i experiment with or utilize a slightly unorthodox gender expression. i think about how fucking gracious i am for those who have shown me love and understanding, and the sadness I have knowing how many of them have experienced the same.

like any demographic we are capable of injustice. i have met trans sisters who were racist, xenophobic, who antisemitic or ableist or sanist or what have you. i dont think the cutesy memes about how transfems can do no wrong are wise. ive seen it myself, we are capable of grave harms. we're excluded from a lot within patriarchy, but it does not excluse those of us who are white from weaponizing womanhood & racialized fragility against nonwhite people.

i think we need to do better. we owe it to all those nice people, including ourselves

[littledeludeddupes]

i feel a little awkward making like public statements about racism like that because simply put others are more qualified than me. fundamentally, as a white person, i just do not understand it in the way a person affected by racism does

i do still feel like white people need to talk to other white people about racism though. so many people live in willful ignorance and just never address their own antiblackness and racism in general. youll meet thousands of people who have already decided that they cant possibly be racist, so its not their problem they dont need to think about it

most of us are queer on this website right? im sure my fellow white lgbt ppl will know pretty well that even well meaning, respectful cishet people who care a lot about being allies will have moments of queerphobia and negative things they unlearn late in their lives. even queer people need lots of time to unlearn queerphobia. so we can understand that the same thing must be true for other forms of marginalization then right?

ive said plenty of ignorant shit in my life, and im sure ive still got a lot to learn. if youre serious about being antiracist you simply have to understand that you will inevitably fuck up and you have to just try to accept your mistakes gracefully. if you care about bettering society and being a good person, you have to spend the rest of your life considering how you fit into society and how you can be responsible towards your fellow human beings

[msallurea]

EXACTLY!? cuz literally this election wasn't even about who had the better points or even black vs white but man vs woman and at the end of the day these mfs proved once again they for one dont like women and two it don't matter who u are or what race u is they will burn the world to the ground before they ever decide to have a woman president in office and that alone just piss me tf off. Like fuxk the fact that he's a criminal, he's fucked up the economy when he was in office and left Biden to fend for himself with all the bs he caused, all of his points made were to benefit the the wealthy and to worsen the lives of the poor and basically destroy middle class, fuck the fact the man is basically trying to do what Putin and Kim are doing aka dictatorship which if anyone paid attention THATS NOT A GOOD THING, he's probably gonna change and take away more laws that were meant to protect ppl especially the women as we already saw abortion rights are now taken away there's probably sooo much more that will be taken. And the worst mf part about this entire election..black ppl yall mfs voted for him the most, like bruh BLACK PEOPLE MY FELLOW AFRICAN AMERICANS THAT MAN DOES NOT GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT YOU if you niggas voted for trump all cuz of ONE check from years ago you're part of the fuckin problem because trump has no intentions on helping POC only the white and wealthy but mfs is so blind they can't even see that so whatever bs is about to unravel within the next 4 years and yall look and wonder why the world has gone to flames I want all u mfs who supported him to look at yo self and blame YOURSELF cuz yall know exactly the kinda person yall voted for but yall didn't give a fuck all because u couldn't handle a woman running the country.

Well, the worst case scenario happened. It sucks when you do your part in voting, and have to rely on other people to vote for the right choice. Part of me feels dumb, stupid, and naive for being so optimistic, especially knowing how terrible and consistent the misogynoir in America is. Honestly, this really killed my spirit and makes me want to stop being so optimistic about things. The choice was clear yet #that man still won. Unbelievable.

I will never understand maga freaks, and people who vote third party. This shouldn’t have been the outcome and I’m really depressed right now.

[narugen]

fuck i’m so annoyed at all the asian people who see black people committing asian hate crimes and trying to pit the two communities together that’s not how it fucking works?? have some fucking decency to realize that black people aren’t a ‘protected community’ when there’s still dozens of black ppl being harmed, killed even, being executed for crimes they never did the reactions from asian people is disappointing

[birthofvcnus]

I can only imagine what poc have been dealing with over this past year (if being technical since the founding of this country), especially Asians as new mass generalizations and just playing xenophobia is becoming more prevalent than ever. I can only imagine how many people are telling them of "you just get offended by everything" "it was just a joke" etc. Because I am absolutely fed up with it,I am annoyed that I have to point out to people what you just said was not only racist, but also a MASSIVE STEREOTYPE. LIKE PEOPLE CANNOT ACTUALLY BE WALKING AROUND THINKING THESE THINGS, IT IS BAFFLING AND ALARMING. PROTECT ASIAN LIVES LIKE COME ON!!

Idk I hope I worded that right, but people are just brushing off xenophobia like its nothing and its playing disrespect and just inhuman.

—

people are so weird like. if ur first reaction when someone tells u that what u said was offensive is to go “it was a joke/ur too sensitive/u can’t say anything these days” i hope u get ur head out of ur ass and talk to a therapist abt ur humongous victim complex bc that shit isn’t normal and if u continue like this ur existence literally just becomes a burden for everyone 😭

[berrymeter]

see i can't interact with other mlms who like kpop bc theyre all like THAT

[diggersofgraves]

fucking hate when someone calls out other ppl for appropriating latino culture or making fun of some aspect of it. and then in comes some random ass latino, "we dont care abt this, we're laughing with them, we're not sensitive 🙄"

bitch First of all, stand the fuck up for yourself. they made a fucking joke at ur expense and they continuously do it and u wanna laugh with them 🥺

and its not just at ur expense. its at the expense of ur parents. siblings. friends?? if as a latino you've never experienced aggressions or had ppl already decided ur not trustworthy or speak to you like a child bc they assume u dont speak english or call you names or have police target ur dad and push him around when he's just walking or claiming that ur mom had drugs on her on a random ass stop bc for what fucking reason, idk, but it fucking happens or getting referred to as "you people" constantly paired with just an awful assumption abt "you ppl" or bullied for an accent ir not speaking english.

thats great for you. im really glad you didnt have to deal with that, specifically if u grew up in the US, but honestly, anywhere else where these might present as problems.

but this whole "latinos aren't sensitive 🥺 not like other ppl" shut up shut up shut up

BC the Second thing im talking abt is the fucking rude ass implications always attached to that fucking statement. these people always bring up "being sensitive" and "other people". underhandedly undermining the progress and valid statements and concerns and violence brought up by other racial and ethnic minorities. theyre speaking out abt their experiences and the unfairness of it and in comes this fucking guy, claiming its ppl being sensitive and they can't take a joke, but he can so he's better and he's different. YOU HEAR THAT, WHITE PPL??? HE'S DIFFERENT!! YOU GOT THAT?? UR SURE??

literally fuck you dude, you'd rather laugh next to an oppressor than the black, brown, or indigenous person who's speaking abt the endless struggles that the oppressor ur standing next to causes that makes their lives difficult and, many times, dangerous. good job, ur just like them now, im pretty sure thats what u want? like genuinely, thats what u want?? did they choose u??

and yeah, Third, bc despite the fact that its not obviously there sometimes, the fucking anti-blackness/racism in these statements and occurrences and within the community as a whole. your experiences as a white latino or even as "mestizo" (i dont particularly like using that word to describe myself or others bc of its roots in the spanish caste system, but I don't have a better word, if anyone can help out there, I'd appreciate it very much <3) dont encompass all latino experience within the US OR within the country your family might have immigrated from. talk to your fellow afro latinos and indigenous members of the community. even if you're dont experience any struggles to speak abt, if ur families doesnt, listen to other people in ur community and be a fucking ally. fucking idiot

my Fourth and probably final point is documentation status within the US. if u came into the US with documents, if u were born in the US, etc etc. thats privilege baby. i guarantee you ur experiences as a documented latino is going to be different than the experiences as an undocumented latino.

there are resources you can reach when ur a citizen that are unavailable to undocumented ppl. and not just latinos in this case, i mean from all over the world, but especially if ur a racial/ethnic minority in the US.

my mom came to the US undocumented. she was getting that shit ready when my family had a fallout and we became homeless. the fucking. obstacle's she had to go through to access resources were fucking crazy. many many times they didn't want to offer these resources to her or us simply based on her undocumented status. many many assumptions were made abt her and our family. she was taken advantage of in jobs and programs.

the problems didnt exactly stop when she finally became a resident, but that weight was so so so much lighter on her after that. we finally had access to resources they refused her before and things became much easier.

I know that as someone who was born in the US, im already less likely to face such events that my mom did. that's privilege already.

if u go to or went to a majority latino school, there might be a chance that there are students who recently came from latin america, maybe within the last year or few months or weeks (my hs school had new students come in every couple of months). pay attention to how they're treated. not just by students, but by the staff. there is discrimination going on there. teachers might make little comments, call them lazy, stupid. its not funny. speak up for them. these teachers are making nasty comments in english when the students usually dont grasp the language so well yet, they JUST moved there. if you dont need to speak up for yourself, fine, speak up for others.

making jokes out of latino struggles reinforces stereotypes and its not you on the bad end of them bc ur laughing with the white man on the otherside. but there are still members from ur own community that might fit some of the stereotypes (bc ur reinforcing these stereotypes by making fun of the CULTURE, our actual way of life) and thats enough for some racist or xenophobic asshole to grasp onto and make a persons day or life a little shittier.

ur not the only person in ur community. there are actually communities out there, latino ppl who speak up on the issues ur laughing abt. in laughing with the oppressor, ur undermining ur community. fuck off dude, fr.

[1kook]

late fee

jeon jeongguk x (f) reader

summary: “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.” tags: f2l, flirty kook, jk’s obsession w/captain underpants, he’s a fuckboy but he’s a soft fuckboy dont get it twisted, campus boy crush jk(yes again), jk abuses the FuCK out of pet names, miss koo1aid actually writes some PLOT warnings: much flirting, nsfw bc of a lot of heavy petting, pussy eatin’, a lil dirty talk, very s l i g h t coochie sniffing, BUT!!! protected sex :) wc: 10.3k

i wrote another fic (applause) and the entire thing is based off my belief that jungkook 10000% would enjoy captain underpants books. not proofread bc i am a hermit and speak to exactly 0 ppl on here, que dios los bendiga

“Helloooo, sexy librarian,” Jeongguk says the moment he steps through the door, lopsided grin adorning his features as he swaggers over to obnoxiously lean against your desk. You can’t even pretend you didn’t see him, his presence so blaringly consuming, and evident in the way some dorky high schoolers glance over to gawk at him.

“What book are you checking out today, Jeon?” You muse instead, leaving your desk chair to head over to the stack of new books that needed to be stamped. As you turn, Jeongguk whistles at the sight, and you don’t even have it in you anymore to retort back the same way you would when he first started bugging you. “Also, are you aware that your copy of Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants is due tomorrow? It’s a dollar for every day it’s late—”

“You needn’t worry longer, baby,” Jeongguk interrupts, and the loud smack of a hardcover against the desk catches your attention. There lies Jeongguk’s Captain Underpants book, alongside the paperback copy of Beloved that has definitely seen better days.

You furrow your brows. “When did you check out this one?” You question, checking the spine to make sure the book belongs to your library. Much to your surprise, there’s no barcode on the side, and no stamp on the inside.

Your question goes unanswered as Jeongguk jumps into a full-length novella recapture of the hot frat party he’d been to last weekend, and how the Zeta Theta Psi guys knew how to party. That Jimin fellow that Jeongguk frequently mentions had apparently snorted a line of coke off their friend Seokjin’s broad shoulders just to prove his friend had godly proportions. It’s weird, but Jeongguk says it’s because you have to ride for your bros. You try to act uninterested, but Jeongguk’s a funny guy, really, and you can only hide so many chuckles with the sound of a stamp.

He’s in the middle of trying to cover up of one of his frequent trysts after accidentally exposing himself—”Don’t get it twisted, baby, I just took her upstairs to call her friend.”—when Namjoon comes out of the back room looking for you. He barely glances at your guest, before handing you a list of overdue books.

“Would you mind calling these people?” He asks, voice soft, just as everything else was about Namjoon. “They’re all a week past.”

“Yikes,” you say, eyes scanning over the list. Surprisingly, Jeongguk is still there, hovering over you as if waiting for you to dismiss him. “Do you mind, Jeon?” You say, channeling your best customer service voice. As much as Namjoon was wary of him, he still considered Jeongguk a patron in your establishment and hated to see him treated poorly, no matter how many library rules Jeongguk broke.

“Of course,” he sighs, and you miss the hostile glare he throws Namjoon when you whirl around for a highlighter. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he says when you turn back around, stretching ana rm in your direction.

Half of you knows exactly what he’ll do, but the other half of you, the one trying desperately to act like his advances have no effect on you, have you placing your palm in his. You’re not super surprised when he tugs your hand upward, pecking your knuckles with a flirty wink. “Adios, Juliet,” he smirks.

“Wrong language,” you inform him, rolling your eyes nonchalantly even though your heart is beating one hundred miles per second. Jeongguk cackles, loud as all hell in the silent library, before making his exit.

It’s silent for all of twenty seconds before Namjoon jumps right into it. “So are you seeing him, or…” he interrogates, trying to act like he’s hardly interested, but you’ve known and worked alongside Namjoon long enough to know he’s secretly the community gossip.

You ignore him, choosing to jam the buttons on the phone instead.

The weird thing about Jeongguk, was that, although he was notoriously known amongst the undergraduates (and even some graduates, because he just had it like that, you suppose) as one of the biggest fuckboys, he was different. Not to sound like every teen romcom you’d ever scanned, but he genuinely was. For starters, he’d fuck your brains out and then make you his best friend the morning after. He definitely had a very peculiar, and backwards, way of doing the whole one night stand thing.

All this you’ve gathered from your friends, who, at one point have had some sort of encounter with Jeongguk. Dahyun’s was last spring at a club event, when he’d oh so smoothly flirted with her for a solid hour before realizing she didn’t swing that way. Which is how they become close friends, which is how, by association, Jeongguk set his sights on you.

Your introduction to Jeongguk wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he’d been tagging along behind Dahyun like a lost puppy, begging her for some class notes, and had subsequently followed her all the way to your favorite meeting place. From then, he’d dropped his petulant, childish act and put on his macho face, chest puffed and eyes hooded as he devoured your very presence.

The next time you see him, it’s at a frat party where some guy had been harping on you go upstairs with him. Another weird thing about Jeongguk, he hated when other fuckboys didn’t utilize their brains. You assume it’s because it gives the fuckboy community a bad rep as a whole, but Jeongguk hated when guys were overbearing. So he’d taken the initiative to snatch you away from that fellow, guiding you all the way back to Dahyun and friends just to make sure you were alright. Somewhere along the way, you’d informed him you worked at the local library—”The one that does bingo on Tuesdays?” “That’s for senior citizens only, why do you know that?”—and he’d never left you alone again.

This time, he spots you in the dining hall.

“You come here often, dollface?” He says the moment he slides up beside you, instantly zeroing in on the burrito wrap on your plate. Like the little immature baby he is, his hand immediately snakes out to touch the precariously wrapped white tortilla holding the deliciousness inside, and you have to physically slap the offender away. He jumps, bumping into a girl standing in line behind him, not that particularly cares. “So, it’s fuck Jeongguk hours, huh?” He huffs, adorning his face with that uppity glare he mastered from watching Mean Girls on repeat a few months ago.

“Your plate is stacked, but you wanna grab the one thing on mine,” you point out, and his lips curl into a smile at your response. “By the way, your book is past due.”

At this he gasps, all real, no Regina George effects added. “You’re lying,” he chokes, switching his plate to his other hand, and you nearly jump when the muffin balancing dangerously on top shifts. He tugs his phone out of the pocket of his sweats, scanning through his remind app until he sees that his book is overdue by three days. He groans, staring at the ceiling in shame.

You nod, breezing over his inner meltdown. “Was wondering when we were gonna get the wedgie winner, or whatever its called, back.”

He scoffs, giving you an unimpressed glare. “Wrath of the Wicked Wedgie Woman,” he corrects, looking so disappointed that you don’t have these bizarre titles memorized. “For such a pretty librarian, you sure are ignorant to these literary masterpieces.”

This makes you cackle, and your cheeks flush when at least three people turn to stare at your outburst. “You aren’t seriously calling these Captain Underpants books masterpieces,” you snort. Jeongguk shrugs, and you begin to wonder if he really is as airheaded as the characters he admires. “Jeon,” you try to reason, giving him a pleading look, because arguing the credibility of kids novels in line for lunch simply does not seem real. You must have been warped into another dimension where all pretty boys are as dumb as the movies make them out to seem.

“Listen,” he says, smiling when you grow desperate for him to prove you wrong. “I’ve read a lot of good books, but nothing tops a hypnotized superhero principal fighting crime in his underwear.”

You sigh, paying for your meal, and then, surprisingly, waiting for him to pay for his. You tell yourself it’s because you want to finish this conversation, but part of you just genuinely enjoys being in Jeongguk’s presence. Gag.

“I saw you with Beloved last week,” you carry on the second he’s done giving flirty eyes to the middle-aged cashier. “Now that’s a masterpiece.”

He nods in agreement. “But, baby,” he purrs, and the sudden switch from weird, 12 year-old literary enthusiast to grown as hell, suave bastard has you jolting a step that you try to play off by pretending to look at something on the ground. “How else will you remember my face?”

You blank. “What the hell are you talking about.”

Jeongguk gives you a pointed look. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t remember a damn thing about me if I did what every other stuck-up bastard did trying to pick up chicks at the library.” You tilt your head in confusion. Jeongguk sighs. “If I went in every rainy Friday and checked out a Tale of Two Cities, or Oliver Twist, or some other Charles Dickens shit, you wouldn’t glance my way.”

“Do people still read Dickens?” You say instead, glossing over the fact that apparently Jeongguk’s visits were apparently blatant attempts to flirt with girls. Finally, you find a suitable spot at a long, dinner table so you don’t have to sit completely alone with Jeongguk.

“You know damn well better than I do that that those wannabe sophisticated books have waitlists.” He shoves half a pizza slice into his mouth, and you hate how your eyes immediately laser in on the strong movements of his jaw. “My point is,” he says through a greasy mouthful. “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.”

You cradle your burrito in your palms, rolling his words around your head for a bit. Jeongguk doesn’t particularly seem like he’s awaiting an answer, munching through the mountain of food on his plate as you revel in your thoughts.

It’s right when you go to take your first bite that you finally come to a conclusion. “But have you ever considered I’m interested in you because I think you’re funny?”

Silence. Jeongguk stares at you through his fringe, pizza slice slowly going limp in his hold as he absorbs your words. Before you know it, his ears flush red. He splutters. “I-You think I’m funny?” He asks, cheeks slowly growing rosy as well, and his lips quirk in a cute way to the side, as if he’s trying desperately to hide his excitement.

You nod, because it’s true, why would you lie? “Duh. You come in every week and just talk about your day, Jeongguk,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I think you’re very interesting and entertaining without trying.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, and for the first time, you’re thrown off by how adorable this man looks, lips pressed tight to contain a smile from your compliments.

Realization hits you all at once, but you’ve long since trained in the fluid art of avoiding your emotions.

“There’s a party tonight,” Dahyun announces from her desk, not even bothering to glance at you when you return from the showers. You hum, not really that interested in whatever is going on this fine Thursday evening. You plop down at your own desk, starting your skincare routine.

Dahyun lets you relax in the soothing motions of self care for all of three seconds before she adds, “Jeongguk wanted to know if you’re coming.”

You press down too hard on the pump of your moisturizer, sending a large glomp onto the tips of your fingers. “That’s nice,” you say, trying to play it off, but you doubt Dahyun hadn’t heard the little spaz you had, or that she couldn’t sense the way your body immediately lit aflame at the mention of him and you in the same sentence.

She turns in her seat, and you catch sight of her in your mirror. You avert your eyes right away, because Dahyun had many talents, and her best one was reading your mind with a single gaze. You maintain an aura of unbothered and uninterested, finishing with the rest of your skincare.

Just when you think you’re safe, Dahyun pounces.

“Y’know,” she says, and you can hear the grin in her voice. “He hasn’t slept with anyone in almost a month. In fuckboy time, that’s the equivalent of two years.”

You roll your eyes, putting away your products before trying to busy yourself with anything else. “He probably has, but with people who know how to keep their mouths shut.”

Faintly, you hear Dahyun’s chair scrape against the carpet, and then suddenly she has you in a headlock. “Admit you like Jeongguk or I will throw your toothbrush into the toilet on the third floor.”

You choke, grappling her arms in an attempt to pry her off. “No,” you huff, switching tactics to tangle a hand in her silver locks. “Why would I confess to something that isn’t true?”

She shrieks when you give a sharp tug, sending her careening sideways against the foot of your bed, but not without taking you with her. “You are lying to yourself and to the entire librarian community, you sick fuck.”

You snort. “The fuck does Namjoon have to do with this?”

“He told me Jeongguk’s been bringing you Starbucks.”

Her reveal has you halting in your tracks, cheeks flushing at being exposed. “That gossiping fuck,” you seethe, finally loosening your grip on your friend. Somehow, you’ve ended up sprawled on the floor of her side of the room, nestled into the stupidly fluffy carpet she thrifted. She rolls onto her belly, propping herself up on her elbows to narrow her eyes at you.

“So it’s true,” she sighs. You shrug. “Well,” she claps her hands together. “Shimmy into that sexy dress from Windsor, we’re going out.”

You groan, rolling over in metaphorical agony. “Dude, I just washed my face. No way in hell, I’m putting on makeup now.” She considers your point for negative three seconds.

“The Glow Kit is in my bottom left drawer,” she announces right as she exits the room with her towel and shower essentials in hand.

The Glow Kit is in fact in Dahyun’s drawer, which is a little suspicious considering it’s the same one you thought you lost three months ago. Nonetheless, it never lets you down, and by the time you’re done with your makeup, you’re looking like a shimmering, little succubus in the hot dress from Windsor.

Normally, you and your self-esteem were rivals; never on the same page, always bickering, sworn enemies from birth. But right now, as you admire yourself in the closet mirror, you can’t help but marvel at how good you look in the slightly loose dress.

“Damn,” Dahyun says as soon as she returns, all fluffy in her towel. “You will fuck tonight, or else.”

“Hey, baby,” Jeongguk smiles at you the moment you walk in, hooded eyes raking over your body in an agonizingly slow manner. Dahyun chooses then to do her party trick—disappearing without a word.

“Hi…” you respond, voice meek in this party setting. There’s more people than you anticipated, which is weird because it’s a Thursday and surely some of these people have morning classes. You can’t comment, though, because you’re here knowing damn well you have an eight am tomorrow.

The music is blasting, so loud you can feel the bass shaking the floor, sending jolts up from your toes to your head with every beat. There’s people in every crevice of this household, some even taking refuge on the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. Someone brushes by you, and you instinctively step closer to the wall to avoid being in the way. You should have known Jeongguk would follow.

He ducks down to shout into your ear. “Wasn’t sure if you were coming tonight,” he tells you, right as one of his friends rushes by, thrusting a cup into his hand that Jeongguk doesn’t even stop to question. He takes a sip, then offers you some.

“Dahyun didn’t wanna come alone,” you lie, tentatively sipping from his cup only to realize it’s worse than any alcohol here: it’s Sprite. Jeongguk seems amused by your subtle disgust, immediately taking the cup back. You send out a light prayer for his stomach and his skin. “Aren’t you supposed to be out pulling hoes or something?” You say, trying to go for teasing and playful but missing by a mile.

Jeongguk grins. “Why would I do that when the only girl I want is right here,” he motions, and then does that cliche move where he places a hand by the wall behind you. The worst thing is, even though Jeongguk seems intent on pulling every cheesy act known to mankind, your heart actually races.

“Shut up,” you laugh, “you just like that I don’t charge you the late fees on your books.”

At this, Jeongguk genuinely smiles, nose scrunching up as he gazes at you. “False,” he argues, and then leans forward, same stupid dopey smile on his face. “I love a woman who snorts milk out of her nose.”

“Jeon!” You shriek, smacking his arm as embarrassment washes over you. “You said you would forget about that!”

Jeongguk cackles, all boyish and rough like he does when he’s around Hoseok for too long. Somehow, knowing you’re the cause of that charming laughter has your annoyance fading away, a soft smile crawling onto your features.

“I hate you,” you say instead, looking up and meeting his gaze dead on for the first time that night.

Jeongguk smirks. “Do you now?” He throws back, then takes a step forward. Your shoulder touches the wall when you take a tentative step back. You give a half-assed shrug, entranced by the playfulness that lurks behind his eyes. He gives you an exaggerated pout. “That sucks, because I,” he steps closer again, and this time he’s looking down at you over the bridge of his nose, “really like you.”

“I…” you trail off, too hypnotized by the pink tongue that swipes across his lips as he gazes at you. There is no hesitation on his face.

When you don’t say anything for another moment, Jeongguk ducks down. His nose bumps against yours, his breath warm as it fans across your face. “Y’know, I’d treat you so right,” he suddenly says, and your panties immediately turn into Niagara Falls at the newfound deepness of his voice. You feel lightheaded from his close proximity and promising words. “Could make you feel so good, baby, if you just let me.”

You shiver, nearly jumping out of your skin when a hand snakes its way around your waist, tugging you forward gently. Not overbearingly, because you know the last thing Jeongguk would ever do was want to make you uncomfortable. He pulls you close enough that it ends up being you who steps completely into his embrace. Your trembling hands find their place on his shoulders, and Jeongguk has never looked more content.

“You... only want sex,” you softly accuse, and the only reason your quiet voice doesn’t get lost in the noise is because of how close the two of you are.

Jeongguk bites his lip at your words, and you wonder if part of him is surprised that you’d so openly say such a thing. “Not with you,” he says eventually. “Wanna hold you like this forever, ___. And if that leads to you cumming on my tongue every now and then, well,” he smiles, “all fine by me.”

“Jeon,” you scold, scared that someone might have heard him.

“What?” He grins, pressing impossibly closer. His lip gives the slightest pucker, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning closer, the hand around your waist tightening. “I want you, baby.”

You can’t hide the lovestruck expression on your face as you look between his mouth and his eyes, and you wonder if he’s being honest.

Right as you’re about to throw all your doubts out the window and kiss him, you’re bombarded with the sound of obnoxious air horns from a DJ who obviously knows shit about, well, DJ-ing.

You jump at the sudden sound, bumping your head against the wall behind you. Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, are you okay?” He fusses, all traces of that suave, heartthrob replaced with a fretful Jeon.

“I’m fine,” you say, though you’re not because you’re absolutely dying right now. From the fact you almost gave into Jeongguk but also the embarrassment of hitting your head. “I-I need to find Dahyun,” you announce, and give Jeongguk no time to process that before you’re bolting into the crowded house like you just broke something.

jeon tell me you got home safe jeon please

You pause in the middle of removing your makeup, one eyelash on to symbolize the mess you are right now. Dahyun is humming some tune as she does the same, the both of you clad in your pajamas and fuzzy socks. Carefully, you pick up your phone.

you im home! me and the girls ubered home lol you sorry i didnt get to say goodbye :(

jeon dont worry abt it babe jeon just happy to know ur ok

“You better be texting Jeongguk, since you failed to complete the one job you had tonight,” Dahyun calls and you curse. You whirl around to face her, and she snorts at your one eyelash.

“Be honest,” you say. “If you were the campus crush who could get coochie every time he breathed, would you leave all that for me?”

Dahyun freezes. “Well, not when you’re only wearing one eyelash.” You groan, flopping into your seat uncomfortably. “Babe,” Dahyun sighs, as if sensing the gravity of your dilemma. “You’re hot! Everyone knows this except you.”

“But am I?” You whine. “Am I attractive or do you just feel obligated to say that because you’re my friend, be honest.”

“Oh my god,” she huffs, climbing into her bed, phone in hand. She doesn’t even bother looking your way when she’s all settled in. “You have this weird idea that Jeongguk is some intangible idol, as if you haven’t seen the dude deepthroat an entire bratwurst at the diversity fair. If anything, you’re the dream girl on campus, you stupid bitch.”

“The only true thing I heard is me being a stupid bitch,” you mope, and Dahyun throws a pillow at your face. You take this attack as initiative to finally take off your other lash, finishing your cleansing and moisturizing (for the second time) routine.

“Listen,” she says, setting her phone down to stare you dead in the eye. Her voice is devoid of any emotion. “If it makes you feel better, he wrote JK + __ on our group handout last week.”

You don’t sleep that night.

The last person you’re expecting to see at this secluded cafe on a Saturday morning was Jeon Jeongguk, yet here he was in all his delicious morning glory. By morning glory, you mean the soft, sleepy eyes that stare at you from across the table, voice so deep and husky.

“Why are you here if you just woke up?” You interrogate, settling into the empty seat in front of him. Carefully, you begin pulling things out of your bag, trying your best to not look away too long. This sight was rare, Jeongguk usually being at an energy level of about eighty seven at all times. To see him so tired and sluggish was unheard of.

He gestures over to where Taehyung is in the middle of what looks like a job interview. “Moral support,” Jeongguk informs you. You nod in understanding, before returning your gaze to the sleepy angel in front of you.

He’s ridiculously tired, eyes dropping shut every time you so much as pause for a second. He seems apologetic too, murmuring I’m sorry I’m sorry whenever his eyes flutter shut. Your heart was going haywire at the sight. “Jeon,” you say softly, and get one, soft hum in response. “I think you should go home, Taehyung seems fine.”

He shakes his head. “Needs me,” he murmurs, trying desperately to snap his eyes back open to no avail. Eventually, you make the call, packing your things up way earlier than usual. You haul Jeongguk out of his seat, him sleepily trailing after you as you drag him out of the shop. He sleeps on the short bus ride back to campus, and even almost sleeps on the elevator up to his dorm.

“In we go,” you announce, unlocking his door before nudging him inside. His roommate is nowhere to be found, oddly enough given the early hour. Jeongguk stumbles inside, plopping down on his bed right away. “Sleep.”

He lets out a high pitched whine the moment you turn to leave. “Come cuddle,” he huffs, face pressed against his pillow. His hair’s haloed around him, pout smushed against the cushion as he stares at you.

“You need to sleep,” you point out.

He rolls onto his back, patting the mattress beside him. “Wanna feel you,” he says. Your cheeks flush red. As if realizing the meaning behind his words, sleepy little Jeongguk takes the initiative to push you further. “Pressed against my body,” he drawls, his deep chuckle resonating throughout your body. “C’mon, baby, too scared to be in bed with me?”

You scoff, though your cheeks are warm. “You wouldn’t do anything anyway, you’re half asleep.”

Jeongguk shrugs, lips quirking to the side as he motions to his side again. “So? Can tell you like it slow anyway,” he grunts, before sitting up and shuffling to the edge of the bed and assuming a sitting position. Without warning, he catches your wrist in his hand and tugs you between his spread thighs.

He’s more awake than he’s been all morning, and part of you is happy but the other is anxious. God, was this boy dangerous.

“You’re half asleep, Jeon,” you say, trying to diffuse the sudden sexual tension. Jeongguk smiles up at you.

“Cmon, baby,” he exhales, and one fluid tug has you plopping onto his thigh. You startle at the sudden change, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. All he does is laugh some more, nuzzling his face against your neck as your heart goes into panic mode. “Bet I could get in so deep,” he murmurs, breath tickling your neck and you feel your legs turn to jelly.

“G-Gguk,” you try to warn, but it ends up sounding more like a plea. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

A sudden kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder has your spirit ascending into another plane. Jeongguk smiles at your pliant body. “Look at you,” he continues, kissing down your neck until your body is physically quivering. “So sensitive. No one ever touched you like this before, doll?”

You shake your head no, and nearly jump out of your own skin when a hand clasps onto the inside of your thigh. “Jeon, we shouldn’t…” you choke out, even though your traitorous hand clamps down on his and pushes it closer to where you need him most.

“We shouldn’t?” He teases, and then cups your sex.

You transcend.

Jeongguk laughs, airy chuckles fanning across your jaw. “Then stop,” he tells you, the both of you watching as your hips unconsciously grind into his palm. Even when you tell yourself you need to stop, your body feels heavenly being touched by him, so you physically can’t.

“I can’t,” you reiterate, and muffle a moan against the side of his face when he presses a finger down on where he knows your clit is hiding. The thin leggings you’d worn did nothing to spare you.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he sighs, watching you work yourself on his hand. He traces his index finger over the seam of your leggings, where your folds meet and you moan again. “You gonna let me finish you off, princess? Gonna let me finger your tight little pussy until you cry? But I bet you’d make the prettiest noises if I licked you down there. Or are you gonna cum in your panties like this?”

All the different ideas he stuffs into your brain are overwhelming, especially when the only thing you really want is to be stuffed with his fingers and cock. “J-Just do it,” you beg.

“Do what?” He plays, watching the way your face contorted with every brush against your mound.

“Whatever you want,” you cry, biting down on your fist to stop any more noises from spilling out.

Jeongguk smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Such a simple gesture, but it has your stomach somersaulting. God, you needed this. You were practically sobbing for his dick, which was embarrassing in itself, but actually getting dicked down sort of cancelled it out. PEMDAS or whatever. 

Just as his hand creeps to the hem of your leggings, there’s a rattle of the doorknob, and you jump. The cloud of lust that had engulfed you two fades away and you’re suddenly aware of the jingling of a key outside.

“What the fuck,” Jeongguk whisper-shouts, looking absolutely scandalized that his roommate is coming home at this moment of all moments.

“Should I hide?” You whisper back, never having been in such a situation before. Jeongguk looks at you like you’re stupid.

“Just,” he sighs, standing up. He ruffles his hair anxiously. “Just… act natural.”

You sit perfectly still. “Not like a Sim!!”

“Captain Underpants and the Invasion of the Incredibly Naughty Cafeteria Ladies from Outer Space (and the Subsequent Assault of the Equally Evil Lunchroom Zombie Nerds),” you read, gasping for breath by the end of it. Jeongguk beams at you. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope,” Jeongguk says, leaning over the counter and watching as you scan his book under his name. “I’ll let you know how it is.”

You roll your eyes, writing down the return date on a piece of paper you stuff inside. “Please do, I’m absolutely dying to read this book.”

You hand the book over to Jeongguk, and try to ignore the way he stares at you for a second too long. Namjoon chooses this exact moment to take his lunch break, sauntering off whistling the the Angry Birds tune.

Right before Jeongguk can jump into an interrogation, the door swings open and Jisoo from your sociology elective saunters in, carrying the same mountain of books you had checked out for her two weeks ago.

“___, hi!” She exclaims right away. She, too, was infected with the same bimbo disease as Jeongguk, the one where they both had no concept of being quiet in a library.

“Hi,” you greet back, immediately standing to take the books from her. “Did you actually read through all of these?” You ask, trying to make polite small talk. You’re not particularly close to her, but it’d be rude to act like you didn’t know her.

She laughs at your comment. “Oh god, no. I just open random pages and reference them for essays,” she admits.

You try to make more small talk with her as you scan through her books, but the girl literally almost hit the material limit, which is fifty books, so you soon become consumed in scanning the barcode, briefly flipping through the book for any damage, and then repeating it all over. You’re not surprised when she drifts away, and you’re mentally cursing Namjoon for going on break now of all times.

It’s about ten minutes later when you���re all done, the computer’s library system going haywire on you, the same way it had when she first checked out all these books. You look away from the screen, standing to face Jisoo, only to find she’s drifted to the other end of the welcome desk, where a certain someone had gone to while you served her.

Oh.

You’re not anticipating the wave of jealousy that hits you watching gorgeous, smart Jisoo talk to Jeongguk. She matches him perfectly, both so beautiful it hurts. It’s when she says something to him that you snap out of it. “When can I come over again?” Soft enough that you wouldn’t have heard if you hadn’t been paying attention.

Jeongguk’s toying with a bookmark stand, but you still see the quirk of his lips on his face when she says that.

All you can do is watch from the sidelines, so close yet somehow miles away as he says something back to her that gets drowned out by the thundering of your heart. You suppose it’s only natural for a guy like Jeongguk to flirt with girls, and he’d never said he only, exclusively wanted you. Really, you shouldn’t be as surprised.

But you are.

You’re surprised and, dare you say it, discouraged by the scene. He’d been so eager to finally win you over the other night, so much so that he made you feel special with every word he uttered and every look he gave you. You’d almost believed in his sincerity, but seeing him so easily converse with Jisoo about whatever past they have, served as a cold reminder that you and Jeongguk believe in two completely different relationship styles.

So you sit back down, gnawing on your lip as you try to do other duties, clicking around uselessly on your computer until eventually, Jisoo wanders back.

“Am I all set?” She smiles, and you can’t even find it in you to dislike her. You plaster on your best customer service smile, nodding and handing her back her library card. She thanks you three times over for the hassle, before waving goodbye to you and Jeongguk.

When the door falls shut behind her, you immediately drop the facade, though Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice. “Whew. She left a lot of work for you,” he laughs, eyeing the big stack beside you. You don’t even bother responding, as, at that moment, Namjoon returns from his lunch break.

(How convenient! You swear this fucker had a sixth sense for knowing when work was about to become hard.)

“Joon, I’m taking my break now,” you announce, and Namjoon stares at you like a deer in headlights, the last bite of a sandwich raised to his mouth.

“Uh,” he says, 140 IQ and all. He glances behind you at Jeongguk, who also is confused as all hell. “Okay, then.”

“___?” Jeongguk questions. You stalk off, pushing the gate away from the desk before bursting into the employee break room right across from it.

You cry the moment you get home, and Dahyun jumps ten feet out of her bed in shock. Her girlfriend, Momo, is sitting on the floor painting her toes. “Oh no,” she cries, sweet and understanding in all the ways Dahyun wasn’t. “My poor baby, what’s wrong?” She asks, waddling over in the my-nail-polish-hasn’t-dried-yet way to hug you.

“He was flirting with another girl,” you sob, dropping your bag by the door as Momo continues fawning over you, wiping your face with tissues. Dahyun gets out of bed, cracks her fingers, and promptly announces:

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Initially, you would have let her. But after a while you manage to calm down, loud Kim Kardashian sobs fading into tiny hiccups as the two of them coddle you. You tell them all about what terrible, good for nothing Jeongguk did, and in true female solidarity, they vow to kick his ass for you. Eventually, you settle on not whooping his ass, just cutting any romantic notions with him off to avoid further heartbreak. After all, you were kinda friends before you had your little crush revelation.

It’s later in the night when you announce you maybe got 2% over him, which the girls count as an absolute win, but then Jeongguk texts you and they groan at the way you jump for your phone.

jeon hey can we talk ? jeon did I do something wrong today? jeon felt like u were mad at me lol, and then u took a really long break and I had to leave for class so I didn’t even get to see u again jeon just wanna know if everything is ok

You read through the messages a couple times, and wonder if he’s being serious and didn’t see anything sus with his actions, or if he’s just toying with your emotions. Momo tugs Dahyun away to give you some sort of privacy, and then you’re left alone in your thoughts.

you everything’s fine ! you I just wasn’t feeling well lol

He responds right away.

jeon please don’t lie to me ___ jeon I know what you’re probably thinking and I just want to say it’s not like that

For some reason, him saying he knows you enough to know your thoughts irritates you. He obviously didn’t know shit about you if he was out here making you look like a clown. Your fingers type before you can even think.

you lmao you thats funny

jeon ?

you you most def do not know what I’m thinking so please just take my word when I say I felt sick

jeon lmao. what do you mean...

you you barely know ME besides the fact I work @ the library and dorm w Dahyun. don't say u know what I’m thinking, bc that would imply you know me on a closer level which you don’t

jeon ok seriously what's up with you?  jeon im trying to make sure ur okay but ur just being difficult as fuck

you I’m not being difficult I’m just being real

jeon ur not tho, ur being defensive for no reason at all

you so? we’re barely friends and we barely know each other, how I feel is none of ur business

jeon lmfaoooo, so now we’re barely friends?

you thats what I said didnt I

You set your phone aside when you don’t immediately see the texting dots appear, assuming your dry response is probably enough to ward Jeongguk off. Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from frustration or anger, but you guess it’s both. You’re not sure what set you off, the fact Jeongguk wants to act like he knows you, as if he wasn’t just chasing after you for some pussy, or the fact he wanted to act like some all-knowing being when it came to your feelings.

Eitherway, you’re extremely heated, grinding your teeth together when five minutes pass and he hasn’t texted you back. As if sensing the tension, Momo and Dahyun abruptly announce that they’re going to the ice cream place down the street, offering to bring something back to which you decline.

They leave, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. You get exactly two seconds of peace and quiet before your phone starts going off like crazy, all from Jeongguk.

jeon you’re starting to piss me off jeon drop the attitude baby. jeon bc I can be just as mean as u jeon and I won’t hesitate to make you cry

You blink. Every ounce of your body that had been consumed with an unknown anger slowly fades away as you stare wide eyed at Jeongguk’s messages. This was nothing like the Jeongguk you knew; he was soft and playful. He never raised his voice at you, and he’d never been anything less than a sweetheart.

you I don’t have an attitude

Is your feeble reply, too scared to reply to any other part of his message because you truly had no experience with this Jeongguk.

jeon so then put your big girl pants on and tell me what’s wrong jeon enough w this other shit

You sigh, snuggling into your covers as you absentmindedly tap the back of your phone.

you nothing is wrong

He doesn’t reply for a couple minutes again, but Dahyun sends you a text letting you know her and Momo decided to go to an event on the other side of campus, and telling you not to wait up. You reply back a simple ok right as Jeongguk responds.

jeon ok. so let me tell you what’s wrong then jeon you’re mad bc I was speaking to Jisoo today and she asked abt coming over jeon she comes over all the time jeon bc she is my roommates girlfriend

Your mind goes blank.

How embarrassing to have your mind read word for word, even more so when apparently, your worries weren’t even plausible. God. Instantly you feel stupid, replaying today’s entire scene and trying desperately to find something to catch Jeongguk in a lie. But other than asking that one question, there had been no other interesting talk between the two.

Your phone pings again, and you scramble to type a response, only to freeze at the words on the screen

jeon what blows me is that i don’t even owe u shit especially not an explanation jeon u don’t give 2 flying fucks about me. U just like the attention I give u and watching me make a fool of myself for u jeon I bend over backwards chasing after you, trying to get you to notice me, but you’ve done nothing to show me u feel the same jeon but you’re the one allowed to get mad when I speak to other girls? like u said “ that’s funny ”

Oh, no. Immediately your heart comes crashing down, and your fingers tremble as you watch Jeongguk slip away right before your eyes.

you Jeongguk you it’s not like that please you I like you so much, it’s just hard for me to

jeon to what? Get over your stupid stereotype of me?? jeon lmfao. Yeah that must be sooo hard jeon it’s whatever tho bc I had one of u too jeon my dream girl

This is not what you expected when he said he’d make you cry.

“Honey, you just have to talk to him,” Momo says the next morning, pressing a cucumber slice onto your eyes. You flinch at the initial iciness, but then relax when she brushes your hair out of your face. You’d gone to sleep a wreck, crying and sobbing as you thought desperately on how to win Jeongguk back, but everything he had said was true.

You’d done nothing but reject him since the beginning, had only just begun treating him as a friend, yet you instantly placed the blame on him at the first signs of trouble. God, he was right. You’d been selfish this entire time, and now he wasn’t responding to your messages anymore.

Dahyun nods from her cocoon at the foot of your bed. “I’m sure it’ll be easier in person, text convos are always weird,” she tries to comfort you. “But keep those slices on, those bags under your eyes are no joke.”

Momo smacks her calf. “Be nice! She’s going through a crisis.”

Right as you’re about to pay for your meal and sprint back to hide in your dorm, you spot a coconut head of hair facing the windows in the far corner of the dining hall. Fuck. Faintly, you can hear Dahyun’s voice shouting for you to stop being a pussy and go talk to him. You pause by the exit, one leg in one leg out, before saying fuck it. If worse comes to worse, you transfer schools and live with heartbreak and three cats for the rest of your life.

“I-Is someone sitting here?” You say before you can chicken out, and mentally curse yourself for stuttering. Oh, the social horror.

Jeongguk visibly jumps at your voice, wide doe eyes staring at you as if he expected to never see you again. After all, it’s been a week since your little fight, three days since you last tried texting him. He shakes his head, turning his attention back to his plate, but not before tugging the hoodie of his sweater over his head in a classic self defensive tactic.

You slide into the seat, staring at the plate of food like you’ve never seen it in your life, never mind the fact you picked it out less than fifteen minutes ago. You accidentally scrape your fork against the bottom, and the both of you cringe.

Jeongguk clears his throat, hands clasped together between his thighs as he stares out the window. “Don’t you have work?” He asks, voice raspy.

You shake your head. “I took the week off,” you confess, hoping he doesn’t press for more, because then you’d have to tell him your reasoning was due to heartache.

“Oh. That’s nice,” he says, and then you fall into a pit of awkward silence.

You push the food around on your plate, hoping he’ll say something, anything to save the two of you. In the end, he stays silent, sleepily glancing out the windows.

When you look closer, though, Jeongguk doesn’t look much hot than you. He’s got the same bags as you under his eyes, and his hair looks messier than his usual messy style. The fact he’s wearing his blue crocs out in public only confirms your theory.

After a solid five minutes of silence, even your hungry stomach managing to stay quiet, you decide enough is enough.

You shift ever so slightly, until you’re somewhat facing him and clear your throat; Jeongguk barely spares you a glance. “The Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People,” you blurt. Jeongguk blinks, face slowly morphing into one of confusion. Your cheeks feel hot under his gaze, having missed his brown eyes in the past week. “It’s your favorite one,” you announce. “Of the Captain Underpants books.”

After a moment, Jeongguk snorts, turning his attention away from you. “You’re not gonna win me over with that,” he says curtly, and your heart tightens at his emotionless tone of voice.

But you’ve done your research, and you’re not letting it go to waste. “You like George more than Harold because you think he contributes more. You love the characterization of Mr. Krupp the most, but you hate his theme song. You think the cover art could use some work, but you enjoy the overall art style. You hated the movie adaptation because Kevin Hart was in it,” you list, recalling every bit of information you’ve ever heard Jeongguk share about the stupid novels.

There’s a small quirk in the corner of Jeongguk’s lips, but it’s not the one you’re aiming for, so you switch tactics. “You hate the smell of bananas because you don’t think it should have a smell. You can’t put your left sock on first, because it’s bad luck to you. Your mom still washes your sheets for you. You know the lyrics to the original Dragon Ball series in three languages. You like wearing rings because it makes you feel like a pimp. You hate when Hoseok calls you the baby, because, according to you, you bench press his weight times two.”

“And a half,” he softly corrects, gazing at his hands, cheeks slightly tinged with red. You bite your lip, tentatively reaching a hand out to place on his arm. He looks at you right away, doe eyes so vulnerable and scared, like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

“I said we barely knew each other, but that was a lie,” you chuckle humorlessly, suddenly feeling your eyes tear up just remembering the conversation. “I know so much about you because I love listening to you talk. I love hearing your voice, and watching you wrestle with your friends, and fight with Dahyun. But I never tell you,” you bite your lip, blinking your eyes to backtrack the tears.

“And you’re right, I made you do all the work and I’m sorry, but I’m just so scared, Jeongguk,” you admit, voice cracking on his name. Your press a hand over your mouth, trying to collect yourself. Suddenly, a soft hand gently pats your thigh, and you find yourself reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “You can have anyone, Jeongguk, and you obviously know this,” you sigh. “I’m scared that I won’t be enough for you.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Jeongguk says, voice soft in the way you’ve missed so much. His hand, shaky and unsure, reaches up to brush a tear from the corner of your eye. “Look at me,” he commands, and you do. “I think we’re both stupid, because I feel like I’ve never been enough for you,” he confesses with a chuckle you try to replicate through sniffles.

Suddenly, he’s close, forehead pressed to yours. “And maybe it’s true,” he says. “You won’t be enough for me, and I’ve never been enough for you.” Your heart aches at his words. “But that’s okay,” he assures, squeezing your thigh between his fingers. “We don't have to be right now, but we can try.”

You nod, clamping down a sob. “God, I hate how optimistic you are,” you laugh, and he smiles, cupping your face in his hands.

“And I hate watching you cry,” he says, fingers wiping your cheeks. Before you can say what you’re thinking, he’s snatching the words right out of you, “yes, I know I said what I said, and I felt like such a dick typing it, I made Jimin flick my forehead right after.”

You giggle, and he beams that dreamy smile at you again. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he announces, and your heart thunders in your chest faster than the wings of a hummingbird.

And he does.

“I don’t know, I think Kevin Hart sounds great in this,” you mention, and you feel the hard scoff Jeongguk lets out from your position cradled on his chest. “It’s not the worst thing in the world,” you defend.

“You’re sick,” he says, then pauses the Captain Underpants movie to engage in your third debate of the evening. You’re barely fifteen minutes in. “You think that weirdo did George justice? How? In what world?”

“Babe, it’s just a voice actor,” you placate. “No one died because Mr. Hart voiced him.”

Jeongguk splutters. “Mr. Hart—you don’t know this man! And something did die! My hopes for a sequel!”

You shush him, pressing your index finger to his lips. “Enough complaints, Rotten Tomatoes. We won’t even finish at this rate.”

Jeongguk hits play, grumbling under his breath.

Just as you’d predicted, you don’t even make it to the halfway mark before Jeongguk’s got you on your back, plush lips working yours until they’re bruised, tongue halfway down your throat. “The mov—“ you mumble.

“Fuck Mr. Hart,” Jeongguk says, kissing down your jaw like he can’t allow himself to miss a single spot. When he reaches the collar of your shirt, he wastes no time tugging it off of you. You whine, instinctively covering your chest. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, “here, look-,” he tugs his sweatshirt over his head, and you’re met with the strong muscles of his abdomen and pecs, “-twins.”

You roll your eyes. “Just kiss me, Mr. Jeon,” you tease, wrapping your hands around him to bring him closer. He chokes, and mumbles something about saving that for another time.

Before you know it, he’s kissing between your thighs, soft lips producing the most erotic sounds with every smooch he gives. “Can I take these off?” he asks, one lone finger creeping beneath the hem of your panties, right where your hip is. You nod, biting your lower lip hard the moment he begins sliding them down. His hands are soft as they glide over your legs, and when he finally tugs them away from your ankles, he wastes no time nudging your legs open for him.

“Don’t just look at it,” you whine, jabbing his ribs with your foot. Jeongguk grins.

“Sorry I stare, you’re just so pretty,” he smiles, and you muffle an annoyed groan into your palms. “Gonna eat you out now,” he announces, finally, and you uncover your face to watch the way he lowers his mouth onto your throbbing pussy, pink tongue coming out to lick at your clit.

The first press of the wet muscle has your toes curling, back arched. You’d been craving this for the longest, and just as you’d expect, it’s better than any fantasy. “Right there,” you moan, reaching down to tangle a hand in Jeongguk’s wavy hair, the other fisting the pillow beneath your head.

Jeongguk absorbs all your tiny reactions, toying with your clit just how you like it. He rolls his tongue around it, making sure every part has been in his mouth at least once. When he suctions his lips around it and moans like this was getting him off, your body melts. “Fuck,” you cry out, your thighs quivering around his head. Part of you wants to slam them shut, hide from his tongue and all its devious ministrations. But the other part has never felt so good in your entire life.

When Jeongguk decides he’s pampered your swollen clit enough, he gives it one final kiss, wet and slippery. “Good?” He smiles up at you, lips slick with your juices. You nod, probably already looking fucked out. He smirks at your response, and your heart backflips in your chest, when he reaches up to knot your fingers together.

He kisses your knuckle and you whine. “How many fingers do you want?” He asks, and you blurt out the first number you can think of.

“Eight,” you choke, and immediately flush in embarrassment afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, dropping his head to your thigh in a fit of giggles. He looks absolutely ethereal there, soft brown hair sprawled across your skin like an angel. “Smaller numbers, baby, please,” he chuckles. You shrug, so he decides for you. “How about I just use my tongue instead?” You think you might love him.

He settles back down, lips pressing against your mound one final time, before he’s diving in. You mewl right away, body becoming one with the mattress beneath you at the first brush of his tongue.

“Oh, Jeongguk,” you gasp, hands burying themselves in his scalp again. He hums in response, and the sound has every nerve in your body lighting up. His tongue prods against your folds, slowly licking his way deeper and deeper into your cunt.

The worst comes when he sighs against your pussy, literally sighs, like he’s so blessed to be there. “You’re s-so good at this,” you cry out, trembling fingers twisting his hair so tightly that you manage to pull him off just an inch. He pinches your thigh in warning, before stuffing his tongue into you again, absolutely plunging into the depths of your hole.

Just when you think he couldn’t possibly outdo this, he jolts up suddenly, nose brushing against your clit. His eyes go wide for the slightest second, as if he really hadn’t planned that, before flickering at you.

To your utter embarrassment, he takes one long whiff, eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure.

He pulls away from your dripping hole. “You smell so fucking good,” he informs you, spreading a fiery blush across your cheeks.

“Thanks?” You say, and he grins, shuffling onto his knees all of a sudden. You mope the loss of his tongue on your pussy, but forget about it the second he reaches for his desk and returns with a condom.

He tears the foil packet open with gentle hands, eyes weirdly zeroed in on that only. You nudge his hip, and when he meets your gaze, he instantly averts it. Like he’s suddenly shy.

Oh he was gonna be the death of you.

You tug his boxers down and get to revel in more of those bashful glances, but you soon forget about that when he grips his rock hard member in one hand, jacking it to its full potential. “Ready?” He says, one hand gripping your hip, the other his cock. You nod, and then shift up onto your elbows to watch him sink into you.

You can barely keep your eyes open, the second the tip of his cock brushes against you your eyes roll back into your head. You moan, letting yourself flop back against the mattress, chest heaving with each inch he sinks in. “Fuck, you’re big,” you cry, biting down on your fist.

Jeongguk chuckles. “Yeah?” He grunts, and then stills as he waits for you to catch your breath. He gives you exactly four seconds before he’s thrusting the remainder of the way in.

Your back arches off the bed, a high-pitched moan ripping itself out of your throat. “Jeon!”

“Relax, relax,” he croons, releasing your hip to lean over you, peppering your face in kisses. You’re heaving for air, so overwhelmed with emotions. “You’re doing so good for me, doll,” he comforts, kissing every inch of you until you regain your wits. “So wet and warm for me, you have no idea how bad I wanna just ram my cock into your tight, little pussy.”

You huff, heart still skipping by the time you grow familiar with the sheer size of his dick inside of you. When you’ve finally come back down to earth, eyes fluttering at Jeongguk, he gives you one affirmative nod before he begins really fucking you.

He starts carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll break you with one push. You’re thankful that he’s at least somewhat aware of his own bear strength, but you’d prefer if he picked up the pace. Before you can file a complaint, he’s hiking your thigh up onto the crease of his elbow, and ramming himself into you.

“Could already hear some smart ass comment coming,” he groans, snapping his hips into you with a newfound intensity. You moan, trying desperately to reciprocate some movements back.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” you gasp, fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders, scratching lone lines down his back. Jeongguk snorts, pushing in, and then grinding your pelvises together deliciously.

He rolls his eyes, then chooses that exact moment to capture your lips in his. You groan softly, body boneless beneath him at the gentle way he kisses you, like his entire life depends on this single kiss.

When he finally releases your lips, he’s huffing against your mouth, hips having not stopped a single time. You know he’s tired and so riled up; you’d felt the brush of his half-hard member from the moment you first laid down to watch the movie.

But Jeongguk was a gentleman, through and through. You’d felt the brush of his cock, and heard the thundering of his heart, but he hadn’t pushed you further a single time. He basked in your presence, waiting until you crept your hand beneath his shirt to finally pounce.

“I’m close,” you tell him, reaching down to toy with your clit. Jeongguk had treated it like the finest treasure earlier, but now your gentle caresses feel mediocre compared to the way he’d touched it. Jeongguk nods, the tips of his wavy hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. You abandon your quest to finish yourself off and focus on brushing his hair away from his face. “You’re so good to me,” you moan, lightly picking the corner of his mouth. “Don’t deserve you.”

He rams his cock into you, the arm not holding up your thigh weakening, until he’s leaning on his forearm over you. “Don’t say that,” he chokes out, and you wonder if his orgasm is as close as yours.

A particular brush of his cock against your cervix has you seeing stars, thighs clenching around him. “Just a little bit—more,” you beg, body writhing beneath him, pushing yourself up to meet his thrusts.

“So perfect,” he praises, kissing along your jaw. “Come for me, baby.”

You nod, but not before cupping his face in your hands, and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He makes a soft little sound of surprise, smile pressed against your mouth, and the heat in your abdomen finally explodes. You disassociate for all of one second, consumed in a wave of bliss never before heard of, his pistoning thrusts working you through it.

You nearly cry from how good it feels, throwing an arm around his neck to pull him closer. You’re babbling like an idiot, saying shit you won’t remember later. What you do recall is the chuckles Jeongguk had muffled against your neck, hips never faltering as he chased his own high.

He finds it a few beats later, the muscles of his back suddenly going rigid. He moans your name, somehow making it sound like it’s the best song in the world, before his hips begin stuttering in their mission. He eventually goes slack, slumped over you without completely crushing you beneath the weight of his muscles.

By the time you’ve fully recovered, he’s sliding out of you. Right as you go to speak, he stuffs two fingers into your sensitive cunt. “Jeon!” You wail, reaching down to push him away before you come again.

He snickers. “What? It’d be a waste to let it out,” he says, letting go when he’s decided he’s done his job, popping the digits into his mouth. You groan, trying to quell the excitement that builds in your chest from watching him suck your cum off his fingers.

“You’re the worst,” you sigh, snatching his t-shirt off the edge of the bed to tug over your bare form. Jeongguk tugs his underwear back on, retrieving yours from where he’d flung them across the room. When you’re settled into the blankets again, you’re not expecting the laptop to return as well. You raise a questioning eyebrow.

Jeongguk shrugs, nestling into your chest. “Hit play, this is when Professor Poopy Pants begins attacking the city.”

[tibby]

tibby that gifted kid ask was weird and bitter.... i don't usually engage w the gifted kid discourse bc i was a gifted kid who got genuinely failed by the system and i think a lot of ppl don't realize that gifted kids are also children, often neurodivergent, who are neglected by the system because they're thought of as "better than" and as not needing to be taught. like the lack of being taught study skills when i was younger fucked me up As An Older Child as well as an adult, and the implication that having to teach myself everything because the school system decided that gifted kids don't need to learn the same skills as all others is somehow, like, a privilege, is weird. a lot of gifted programs don't even give the kids any special treatment besides telling them that they're supposed to be good at academics and less "coaching" (read: teaching learning skills) which fucks you up the second u do experience failure bc you were never actually learning and just good at memorization!!! some gifted kids are fucking weird though because they really do cling to the idea that being gifted makes them special and better than as opposed to understanding that they're basically just as neglected as most special ed kids just with positive traits inserted into their fixed mindset crash as opposed to negative ones. special ed kids and gifted kids are basically one and the same and it's weird that both sides have people that r super up their own ass about the label and how much better it makes them (but i guess growing up with fixed mindset thinking does that to a mf)

it was bitter because i AM sick and tired of the way so many "former gifted kids" act as if school was easy for everyone besides them and cling desperately to the label to justify their laziness and desire to put down everyone they deem as less intelligent. i am neurodivergent, i am mentally ill, i was placed in gifted programs as a child, the issues resulting from these combined factors made my life difficult right through getting my degree. 

i am also now aware that those programs were meaningless and whilst the education system absolutely let me and others down, we did not get it the worst. i have never claimed that ~former gifted kids~ don't struggle because of what school put them through, but i think the way so many of them act is incredibly arrogant and closeminded. clinging to that label and refusing to get help in whatever capacity you can and learn how to adjust to the world is childish. kids in special ed programs are often demeaned by staff and fellow students, and aren't always given access to the resources they need. students of colour and students from lower income households are less likely to be considered "gifted" and aren't going to be presented with the same opportunities as their white and wealthy classmates. 

i'm not saying you can't complain about how school fucked you over, but i AM saying that any ~former gifted kid~ who constantly centres themselves in discussions about the education system, who refuses to criticise any aspect of it, who insist that these programs should continue to exist but only for the Really Special Ones, like them, and who act as if everyone in the world is a moron who doesn't understand how important they are and should just KNOW they're a super smart wonderful gifted genius....is a selfish asshole. and i'm not going to apologise to any adult who has that mindset. because people like that DON'T care about the kids being fucked over by the system. they care about themselves and would rather pin their missed opportunities on somewhere else rather than grow from those experiences.

[shoezuki]

It's interesting to me bc dream is also neurodivergent but like,, he more obviously masks than techno, if that makes sense? He talked abt it like once and now everyone kinda knows about it but even when talking abt ndv issues (during his stans video he started p obviously talking abt hyperfixations & things he's hyperfixated on in the past but never like openly admitted to it or discussed it being a product of his adhd) he doesn't really like. Mention it? And I do think it's a product of getting a wider audience w the majority being straight neurotypical ppl and also knowing that he's well known enough to have an audience of like, "haters" for lack of a better word who also watch his content specifically to tear it apart. And who are also majority straight neurotypical ppl. And then u have that like dissonance where when interacting w other ppl he can be genuinely funny (eg occasionally in among us w corpse, sykkuno, rae etc, or in some of the older mccs) but in the newer videos w/ the dt/on quackity's jackbox streams when the dt are there/on twt, where he knows he reaches his widest audience his humour just,, vanishes. Poof. And I think it's a combination of what anon said w/ having a wider audience effecting his humour & feeding off the humour of the dt so when they're together & trying to reach big audiences they make jokes that are,, v obviously intended for cis straight neurotypical white ppl.

So even though a large amount of his fans who are lgbt/neurodivergent/poc are still subbed to him, they don't really like,,, watch or interact w him as much bc of the fact that they're not jokes like. Intended for us. It's that accidental ostracising

o yeah no worries i DEFINITELY feel what youre saying!!! like it sounds weird but if i didnt see it mentioned multiple times id never think that or remember dream has adhd. it’s never been a Vibe for me n it could always just be how it manifests differently in different people but also like. i definitely feel it could be him masking/hiding it in ways. 

or at least. yknow when youre with a bunch of fellow ndv people and theres No Pressure to appear neurotypical so you can stim and go off all you want? like my family is a bunch of weirdass fuckers and i can do my Echolalia Thing and echo words back and forth with my dad because its Fine. i feel he has the opposite of that in some ways

GOD idk how to fucking word it without sounding Weird because ofc i cant Assume how dream’s adhd Works n what flavours of traits he has. shit’s different for everyone. but he never talks bout adhd that much unless in situations like the stan video like you said. he has been Genuinely Funny n i have enjoyed him but largely in Other groups other than w dteam like. one offs w people or with technoblade. 

but w dteam. the neurotypical vibes are Strong. in his main videos and the content he himself puts out is very neurotypical/cishet/white leaning and definitely its intentional cuz thats mostly the Majority of his demographic which is. a shame. i get it but boooooooooo

king let ur adhd go Off lets go king be free

[1eos]

I feel like white LGBTs think that poc (even if they’re lgbt) are automatically homophobic since they don’t “look” lgbt.

tea but i don’t think its looks that's why😭😭😭😭 white ppl literally just think all cultures of color are homophobic lmao. they see poc talk abt struggles of homophobia nd instead of going ‘oh no my fellow lgbters are being harmed’ they go ‘oh wow this culture is so homophobic glad MY people are better than that’ totally ignoring................white people spread homophobia w their religions....... and then will turn around nd say they suffer more than poc bc of homophobia. so...which is it. as for looks white ppl for whatever reason think they do gayness ‘correctly’ nd anyone that doesnt watch the shitty stuff they watch or wear is the ‘correct’ way to be gay nd you’re only gay if you’re just like them. but it’s like idc if u wanna say im fake gay bitch im not thristing after fucking kristen stewart

[equalseleventhirds]

actually every white person who acts like they’re morally superior for ‘never having liked’ a racist piece of media (whether bcos there’s racism in the media or someone involved in making it was ~revealed~ to be racist), or who goes on about ‘you’re a bad person for watching/enjoying any media made by a white person’

is legally obligated to do AT LEAST one of the following

write an essay displaying a thorough understanding of the racism inherent in our society, academia, and the entertainment industry, and how that provides more resources and connections to white creators, thus making it easier for white creators to effectively create and advertise their work, for other white creators to find work with them, and for fandom to find and consume their work, and that this is a MUCH bigger & more systematic issue than ‘small groups of mostly-white people who all attended the same classes made some popular indie media’ or ‘more people are finding and consuming white-made media’ (which is more readily available/better advertised by the industry). pinpoint the larger powers at work and provide suggestions on how to rectify this besides ‘well maybe if People Just Made POC-Led Media Popular’. 7000 words at minimum. i will be grading.

actively uplift, recommend, and participate in fandom for media made by people of color WITHOUT saying some variation of ‘watch to make a racist mad’ or ‘well if you were REALLY anti-racist you’d watch this’ or comparing it to whichever piece of white-made media you really hate lately. talk about the actually well-done parts of the storyline and characters, not just ‘this is by poc’ and leave it at that. show that you actually LOVE this media and are not boosting it to Seem Woke. (seek out media actually CREATED by people of color. writers. directors. we’ve already seen how racist white ppl will hire a couple of actors of color and then be TERRIBLE. i mean do definitely support actors too but.... come on, aren’t you so fucking special in ur media consumption?)

pay me myself personally like idk $20 so i, a person of color, can continue my pursuit of a degree in making entertainment media, hopefully not only learning skills but making the necessary connections to find a job in the industry upon graduation.

(note that all my fellow poc are exempt from these requirements, for obvious reasons. this is Just For Fucking White People.)

[juleshq]

*  𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐠𝐨𝐬  here  and  do  i  have  the  tea  for  you  .  𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 is  back  in  bridgehampton  for  the  summer  ,  living  off  the 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐎 family  𝟐.𝟑 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧  net  worth  .  must  be  nice  to  come  back  home  to  the  hamptons  ,  i  wonder  what  her  fellow  class  of  2017  grads  think  of  her  return  .  you  know  ,  she  was  known  around  town  as  the  𝐂𝐎𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 and  for  bhs  senior  superlatives  pronouns  was  crowned  as  𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 & 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 .  i  wonder  if  that  still  holds  true  today  ,  a  lot  can  change  when  you  go  off  to  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 and  study  𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘  .  either  way  ,  i  bet  she  is  still  very  𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 , 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐃 , 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  . hopefully  this  time  next  year  the  plans  to  𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 come  true  .  in  the  meantime  ,  i  look  forward  to  seeing  her  blast  𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄) 𝖇𝖞 𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬  at  every  hamptons  function  .  it’s  going  to  be  a  wild  summer  home  ,  welcome  back  .

i  don’t  think  i’ve  EVER  been  this  excited  to  plot  and interact with a group of people ,  u  all  seem  like  such  beaut  ppl  &  i’m  in  love  already  but   i’m  a  little  . . .  intimidated  ADFJH .  anyways  ,  i’m  not  going  to  ramble  bc  i’m  ready  to  get  down  to  business  ,  i’m  sammie  &  i  go  by  she  /  her  pronouns  !  under  the  cut  is  a  long  bio  on  jules !  i  will  GLADLY  give  you  a  synopsis  on  this  chaotic  mess  pls  just  ask  ,  HERE  is  her  pinterest  board  please  ignore  the  sudden  amount  of  pins  of  just  her  , also  i’m  down  to  plot  here  or  on  discord  ,  my  discord  is  @ᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵒˡˡᵃʳ ?#3246  

* / BASICS

full name: juliana kaia dicaprio

nicknames: jules , julie / juli 

age & dob: twenty-one , august 14th , 1998

place of birth: long island , new york .

sexuality: heterosexual ( that she knows off )

bender: cisfemale

* /  MORE BASIC INFO

languages: english, french, some spanish.

religion: catholic

education: high school , majoring in biology at stanford

occupation: unemployed

drinks, smokes, & drugs: all of the above

* / PERSONALITY

zodiac sign: leo

likes: dark chocolate , tea in the morning , white roses , instigating bad situations , wine , black coffee , the smell of freshly brewed coffee , talking with strangers , long travels , adventures , being called “ angel ” , popcorn , quick tex responders , products made with silk , athletes , crime shows / films , crowded rooms , glitter .

dislikes: fake designer bags , people who don’t know how to lie , f , people who wear pearls regularly , long text messages , voicemails , men who are cheap , people who chew with their mouth open , humming ,  thrift shops , water-poof mascara , the smell of grass , extensive planning , and arrogance & stupidity combined .

bad habits: breaking promises to herself & others , not thinking before doing , fixating with her hair when nervous .

secret talent: juggling

fears: aging terribly , being widowed , drowning , being buried alive .

positive traits: alluring , convincing , affectionate , ambitious / devoted , systematic .

negative traits: manipulative , conniving , deceitful , dishonest , subjective .

* / APPEARANCE

tattoos: dagger on right index finger , “ devil ” on left index finger .

piercings: three in each ear , cartilage .

* / FAMILY INFO.

parent names: claire boucher & david dicaprio .

parent relationship: divorced .

sibling names: annalise , ashton , keller , & wade .

sibling relationship: step siblings & half .

children: none .

pets: 2 family dogs on her moms side.

* / BIOGRAPHY

i’m sorry it got long

             𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑’s entire childhood was spent in the spotlight -- her father was a huge rockstar in the 70's & 80's, and her mother a model . Claire spent her childhood between Florida , California , and New York , attending red carpets , premieres , etc. Claire attended Stanford to obtain a bachelor in science but was in and out of modeling in her teens and early twenties .

            𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐎  lived an affluent life more under the radar . His grandfather is CEO of JD banking , one of the four largest banks in the world . He attended Princeton as the rest of his family did . He got involved in the company business at a very young age as did his brothers , but went on to become the new CEO after his fathers unfortunate passing in 2002 .

            𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 was and will forever be her parents pride & joy . her parents were high school sweethearts & got married young -- at a twenty-two / twenty-three . they had been trying for two years to start their own family but jules’ mother struggled . thanksgiving in the hamptons , a dicaprio family tradition the day is engraved in her mothers memory , in 1997 , they announced to their family that after years of trying , they were pregnant .

            𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 grew up completely pampered ; bi-weekly trips to the nail salon with her mother and annual father-daughter trips . her mother was her best friend until she began morphing jules into what she thought was perfect . making sure she spoke at least one other language , was active in school , extracurriculars , how she presented herself . her mother cared about image due to her own childhood of growing up in the spotlight . besides the near brainwash to fit her mother’s image of perfect , everything was ideal &  ‘ normal ’ up until the summer before her freshman year of high school . her mother discovered the affair her father had been having for months with a woman he did business with . he claimed it was due to the fact that jules’ mother had returned to some normalcy and wanted to work again , modeling and doing some traveling , therefore he ‘ just missed her around ’ . jules was aware of everything going on  , heard the countless nights they spent arguing in the opposite wing of the house , she picked up on her father being late to family dinner because “ he had work to do ” . her parents tried their best to keep her in the dark for the sake of her sanity , innocence , and view on her father . jules went along with it all , the daddy’s girl in her was in denial for all of the months leading up to their divorce . at the end , her mother got full custody of her .

             𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 came two “ yes ” parents . everything became a competition between the two , trying to one up the other ; who took jules on the better summer vacation , had the most over the top christmas morning , etc . it  was insanely manipulative & jules there wasn’t a time period where jules felt more alone ; not having a sibling to relate to , she was embarassed to tell her peers the real reason why her parents split , it was so cliché . both parents didn’t take too long to remarry , her father found another stay-at-home wife and her mother lucked out with a lawyer ten years older than she . her step-father had two daughtes & son with whom jules hated in the beginning – it  was a lot to take in and she was used to being the only child . her father went on to have a child with his new wife two years after their marriage . it was all an immense amount of change within seven years .

              𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 for jules had been constantly changing since the news of her father’s affair , she’d spend her summers & holiday’s going back & forth between each parents in the hamptons until her father moved to calabasas to be closer to his wife’s family as soon as the baby was born . jules had always been a wild , reckless child at heart and the divorce between her parents only allowed her to push her limits even more . the two-three years her parents spent processing their divorce were her golden years -- she could not get in trouble with her parents and they never got upset with her . she took advantage of it all and abused drinking , hanging out with boys , you name it . she loved the attention she received from any male figure -- it made up for the lack of attention she was getting from her father once he got the boot .

              𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 was where jules found her safe space ; she could be her wild self , far away from home and only a five hour drive from her father that she still rarely sees . she joined a sorority , joined the exec board , was forced to join french club by her mother , all while maintaining a 4.08 gpa .

           *  ` 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄 jules has always been a wild child . she’s always had a desire for attention , all eyes & attention on her , though the B I R T H of her uncontrollable desire for attention from males stemmed after her parents divorce . the lack of attention from her father allowed her to realize her dad wasn’t the only one who could spoil her & every man was basically the same . she’s not super close with either of her dads at the moment and sees her father about three times a year , two of which are holidays & every now and then the spontaneous visit from him in cali .  

          𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 is a h u g e  cry baby in the sense that she hates not getting what she wants . its not on purpose most of the time , it’s the way she was raised and the nature of her parents . she’s never had to ask for anything twice & hates doing so . though she’s a huge cry baby , she will try her best to mask her actual tears . she does a good job of seeming innocent , she’s that one friend that is super sus & lies a lot & keeps secrets but somehow is so good at convincing people other wise ? she’s a huge flirt , even when she’s not doing it on purpose , it’s sort of a weird practice or habit she’s grown into ? she feels empowered in the weirdest way of owning men and being able to form their opinion of her for them , this stems from her newly founded daddy issues  it’s more so due to the fact that her relationship with her father began to diminish once he moved out . she is & has been on her “ fuck love ” rampage .

       𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 do whatever she wants and will hide her bad intentions . she lives for chaos , loves enjoys pushing limits & boundaries . she loves a game of cat & mouse / teasing just knowing she has someone in her grip is what helps her sleep at night . she is a bit crazy . . .  the type to watch someone’s snap score go up . def that type to block and unblock someone 238473 timES . she has an underlying need of approval from others and she almost needs to be liked by everyone she meets .

     𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 she wants to model & be a playboy bunny BUT her dad would literally disown her if she didn’t follow her family legacy and attend stanford or yale to use her brains for good . she’s in school to be a pediatrician because at the end of the day she loves children and always wanted to seek a job in the healthcare field . she has plans to attend yale’s medical school after her senior year is complete at stanford .

i really based her off of american beauty & angela in the movie ( if you’ve seen it omg ily ) g

[tellywoodtrash]

sanjivani 29.10.19 lb

sid i swear to god, i'm not going to forgive you for this.

this manager is being helpful to the point of overbearing. take a hint, creep.

men ain't shit bb. men ain't shit. you know what this means. you've got to become THE best doctor in the goddamn world, and flex on him for the rest of your lives.

would it have killed them to run an iron over her outfit??? nothing bothers me more than wrinkly clothes. (if you can't tell already, i am an obsessive ironer.)

...... this is a hospital, not some kinda run of the mill office, ki sab hi ikkhatta ho gaye ek jagaah announcement sunne ko. matlab...... hadh hi hai?? THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO NEED CRITICAL MEDICAL ATTENTION AND Y’ALL ARE JUST STANDING AROUND LIKE THIS IS A RAILWAY STATION.

neil and rahil look really unhappy and that’s the mood for the day.

lmao i saw an insta post yest comparing sid in this outfit to munnabhai, and since then i cannot get it outta my head.

UNCANNY!

honestly, i'm just fwding till the real meaty bits.

oh ishani. babe.

also lord why are they doing this here in front of literally everyoneeeeeee??? i'm dying of secondhand embarrassment.

i hate when he makes this hard face. it's the look in all his modeling pics, that made me never wanna check out any of his shows.

RAHIL IS LIKE UWOTM8!?!??!?!?

juhi is like surprised, but not really, coz who better than her to know about the fuckery of sanjivani men. barson se chali aa rahi hai yeh toh...

everyone's more pissed at asha. because mardon ka chutiyaapa toh chalta hi rehta hai BUT THIS KINDA BEGHAIRTI FROM A GIRL????????? UNBOHLIEVABLE.

neil has lasers coming out of his eyes.

rahil toh daant aise chabaa raha hai, haaaaaye arnav/asad/shivaay ki yaad aa gayi!

oh asha. i know there must have been some super big reason for you to do this, but honestly i wanna beat that simpering smile off your face.

neil looks to have gotten over his fear of blood coz he wants to cut a bitch rn.

can we track down those ganpati waale gunday and contract them to do an encore beatdown on sid???? coz he's asking for it. he's dying for it.

vardhan like itni kameengi toh mujhe bhi nahi sooji???

oh boy. ishani is losing it. i can't watch this, i can't. it’s too hard.

SID JOOTEIN NAHI, POORA KA POORA 18 WHEELER MAAROONGI MAIN TUJHE.

YOU KNOW WHAT SID. YOU'RE RIGHT, AFTER ALL. YOU ARE A MANHOOS. BUT NOT COZ OF BAD LUCK OR WHATEVER KACHRA SUPERSTITION CRAP YOU BELIEVE, BUT COZ TUM EK MARD HO. AUR MARD HOTEIN HI MANHOOS HAIN.

rahil is the bigggggggggest fucking mood in this show at all fucking times.

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE DAMN HOSPITAL IS MY QUESTION?!?!?!? GOD I AM FUCKING DYINGGGGGGGGGGGGG. WHO THE HELL ARE THESE PPL WHO AIR THEIR DIRTY LAUNDRY LIKE THISSSSSSSSSSS???? LIKE THIS ISN'T EVEN ‘EK BAAR PEHNA ON A KINDA SULTRY, HUMID DAY’ WAALA TSHIRT, IT'S WAVING YOUR RATTY, PERIOD-STAINED UNDIES AROUND KINDA HOT MESS. I AM IN ACTUAL PHYSICAL PAIN RIGHT NOW.

*clings to rahil as my emotional anchor; now and forever*

how fucking big of an asshole move do you have to have pulled when even VARDHAN is like goddddayummmm????

"ab yeh kya nayi nautanki hai??? hospital hai ki theatre?"

LMAO RISHABH IS ME. I AM RISHABH.

vardhan is like oh my fellow asshole is here, i can't look soft in front of him, lemme turn up the jerk-o-meter to throw him off ki i was genuinely flummoxed at what’s going on.

STOP CREATING A SCENE??!??!?!?!? SHE SHOULD STOP CREATING A SCENE?!!?!?!?!?!??????????? OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD I HOPE SHASHANK AND JUHI ARE READY TO SCRUB IN REAL QUICK, COZ I'M ABOUT TO FUCKING BLOW A MAJOR BLOOD VESSEL IN MY FUCKING BRAIN RN, FROM SHEER RAGE.

oh no. girl on girl violence.

every time he's called asha "meri biwi", i have lost 8 months off my life span. by the end of this track my estimated time of death should be within the year.

okay sid, till now i was like tolerating this bs; but now this accusation that she was stalking you and making your life difficult, and generally blowing her professional/personal reputation up to bits at her workplace? NOPE. WE OFFICALLY UNSTAN. THIS IS NO LONGER A DR. SIDDHANT MATHUR FAN BLOG FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE.

lmao rishabh and vardhan's faces.

"tum mere liye kuch bhi nahi ho. you mean nothing to me."

UM SHASHANK, COME COLLECT YOUR SON OR BHAANJA OR BHATIJA OR WHATEVER THE FUCK HE IS TO YOU. 

oh. not necessary, shashank. ishani has done the needful.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I AM RISHABH.

oh NOW these two interfere. 15 minute tak toh nautanki dekhe khade the.

lmao kyaaaaa hi jodi hai yeh. aisa lagta hai bhai dooj manaane bhai choti behen ko le jaa raha hai.

yup. pretty sure my theory is correct; that asha's family was somehow threatening to drag her ass back to haryana and get her married, and she called sid for help, and he thought this would solve BOTH their problems. she gets to stay here and be a doctor, and he gets a foolproof method to get ishani to hate him and stay tf away. extreme chutiyaapa on both sides, that should have just had a proper honest conversation with ishani, instead of steamrollering her like this. 

NEIL KE SAR PE KHOON SAWAAAAR AND I KINDA FUCKING LOVE IT??????????????????? NICE TO SEE THIS SIDE OF HIM.

lol why does everyone chadhofy on rahil every time sid is accused of some bullshit? this bechaara is the onlyyyyy voice of reason in sid's godforsaken life.

BUT ALSO, OMG NEIL FOR FRIEND OF THE YEAR?!?!?!? “MERI DOST KA DIL TOOTA HAI!!!!!!!!!!!!” THE MOST WHOLESOME BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

is aman asha's real husband or naaaaaaaah? that's all i need to know, honestly.

is he in hiding coz asha’s fam knows him and would be looking for him???? or omg what if he ran away last moment when asha needed help (coz lbr, he’d be the first one asha would go to) and that’s why sid had to step up????? OMG AMAN, WHERE ARE YOU?!!?!?!?!!? COME TF BACK AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF/ALL THAT’S GOING ON HERE.

oh boy, the hospital's two most savage bois are tag-teaming to verbally destroyyyyyyyy asha where she stands. i do nottttttt envy her rn. 😬😬😬

ok there's no need for THAT.

ouffffffffffff, abhi yeh alag siyappa.

aye chal be, personal idhar dhindora peet peet ke kaun laaya tha? hospital ke lobby mein sasta soap opera karke TU bol raha hai ki professional behave karo???? literally gtfo my boys' faces before i set you on fire.

white coat ke saath ab munnabhai outfit is totally complete.

———————————————————————

i hope this is the beginning of ishani's supervillain story.

[almarchive]

   hello, its nora n this is the ethereal but spoiled alma olive putnam. she goes by all 3 names cos she’s pretentious as fuck. raised in a farmhouse in vermont, never really had to work for anything in her life and doesn’t want to. studying class civ cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into lockwood. loves the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages. i might forget tho so pls message me x

application template.

( elle fanning  / cis-female ) haven’t seen ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM around in a while. the ELLE FANNING lookalike has been known to be TENACIOUS & MAGNETIC, but SHE can also be FANCIFUL & DOUBLE-CROSSING. The 20 year old is a SOPHOMORE majoring in CLASSICS. I believe they’re living in FIDELIS but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( nora. 23. gmt. she/her. )

aesthetics.

a red beret nestled on top of bright platimum locks, neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do it in french new wave films, running barefoot through the woods in feckless hedonism, china dolls with porcelain faces lined against the walls of your room, the mona lisa smile, knee-socks tugged over the hockey grazes on your knees, a forged botticelli drying on your easel, ophelia floating in the middle of a lake.

connection to tatiana & did they choose her name during the watershed?

alma saw her as academic competition and a threat to her de jure throne. in freshman year, tatiana got the role alma auditioned for in a university production. she’s disliked her ever since. alma abslutely chose tatiana’s name, and she’d do it again without hesitating. [that vine voice] I WON’T HESITATE, BITCH

the short form.

—  born in vermont in a big old farmhouse. her great-great-grandfather moved to america as an immigrant and worked on a plantation, made his way up cos he could speak a lot of languages and therefore win more people over. for the last two generations, putnam men have owned the farm and do little of the dirty work. big in the meat industry.

— both her parents had large personalities, so alma’s never really been shy around adults, even as a kid she’d speak to them in a forthright, confident manner, and because she was always surrounded by adults, she’s always seemed a bit wise beyond her years. — very much a consolidation of every character in the secret history. has a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. obsessed with w.h. auden and the beat poets. — ”aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing and even that is pointless” — is majoring in classical civilisation. can read ancient greek and latin. also speaks french. — studies hard and plays hard. she gets top marks but it’s because academia is literally her life, she loves the smell of libraries, the ancient smoke of learning, of feeling like old wine in a new bottle reincarnated from the bones of some old, dead witchy woman who invented a cure for cowpox or somethin. — isn’t a foward-planner, however. alma prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manner so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenaline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night. — pretentious motherfucker. loves poetry, especially the romantics, loves morbid ones too, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, allen ginsberg, she just loves them all. can’t get enough. her favourite films are like…. wanky artfilm independent european cinema. especially french new wave. “what do you think of goddard’s work??” while snorting a line off someone’s sink at 5am on a school night, but you can bet she’ll make it to that 9am class. — very intelligent and beautiful and knows both of those facts. plays devil’s advocate. humanitarian, vegan. — judgemental but takes great care not to appear so. petty and vindictive — just wants to be loved by all. a party girl ; doesn’t rlly enjoy it, jst feels she should enjoy it. — tries to be an enigma. wants to be mysterious and unreadable because that’s what books have taught her makes women desirable and interesting and cool. — obsessively devours mystery and thriller novels. she herself is a gillian flynn book waiting to happen. — act like the flower but be the serpent under it. is a user. manipulative. leads people on. will throw another student under the bus to demonstrate her own intelligence and integrity — heavily involved in the theatre society. loves attention. — has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive, runs track, played lacrosse at school, now is a cheerleader probably. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning. — her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee-high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk. — relates to ophelia from hamlet and sibyl vane in dorian gray. weirdly obsessed with women who commit suicide. loves jackson pollock paintings and abstract art. – likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramophone because “the sound quality is better” kfdsjj.

plots.

here are some generic wanted plots but by all means message me so we can flesh them out more if any strike ur interest:

study buddies !! someone who is equally unprepared and so spends all night in the library with alma before a big deadline, maybe they even met in the library

if they’re from new england or vermont, then cousins . second cousins / extended family / family friends –  probably spat volavons on your character once as children, omg childhood friends !

people who live on the same floor and only know each other from brief interactions in the lift or the canteen

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sporting or academic rivalries !

hockey / cheer friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!

fellow academics who like meeting up to discuss latin and greek ! gimme a secret society bonding by their love of ancient learning

i reckon she’s in a lot of societies, definitely the film club, maybe works as a projectionist at the uni cinema if they have one so give me ppl affiliated with that, give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl

people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties

people who think she is throwing her academic potential away by caving to hedonistic impulse

people she has drunkenly made out with, hooked up with, or regularly sleeps with casually, maybe even a friend w benefits she is repressing feelings for, i love angst,

people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life, she is a roman catholic after all

full biography.

alma olive putnam.

intro.

           the girl is a knife. razor-sharp, double-edged, the bright shine of a two-faced, lovely thing. silver like the secrets you magpie thief from other heads. you’re a scavenger of knowledge, of tidbits, of gossip to lock away for later use and late-night re-inspection. a mind is like a clock if you get to learn the pieces. bit by bit, you dismantle the inner workings of the brains that tick around you – how easy it is to change it’s path, how words and their meanings can make a person laugh or cry in an instant. to have the power to control that is to be a god. it’s the power trip you crave wielding pom-poms in your hands; a possessive need for control that a younger you, small and weak, never had as a child. small lips, smaller smile, a doll clutched in your too-hungry fingers, hard enough to shatter the bones of a real infant. you cut your hair with your mother’s kitchen scissors before the autumn falls, rendering you out of season, unfit for the cold weather that beats against the nape of your neck, where a stick-and-poke marks the star you were born under ; the bull. “mama, when will i be a queen?” as soon as they find a crown small enough not to slip from your head.

biography.

           if you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. hands red, stained by pomegranate seeds, the empty pulp of its shell splattered on your thighs you find yourself wondering – what would it be like to want? in the beginning, you never knew hunger. twins, born under the same star, you first, him second – a nuclear family. never a sister to compete with, you were always the cherry pie of your parents’ hearts. white-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful baby of mine. the townhouse in vermont and the summer house in lyon, you wanted for nought, showered with attention, saddled with gifts - hardly a wonder you came to rely on such affection as a confirmation of your own worth.

           at eight years old you first met death, blood on a gingham-print dress, a smear of it over your cheekbone and the pulp of a mangled animal at your feet murdered by the hands of a stable boy. “alma, my precious baby, you get away from that filth,” your mama would cry from the upstairs balcony – cigar in one hand and a bloody mary in the other – though whether the filth she referred to was the dead pig or the boy with a kernel of corn in his mouth, you never did find out.

           your family earned their keeps in farming, great-grandfather wolfgang hildegarde a german immigrant, great-grandmother maura lisbon a prairie girl. they fell hopelessly in love between troughs and pig-shit, working for three dollars a day at a farm their descendants would later own, trade deals with the indians, vacations to calcutta, your father todd putnam in the kind of sheepskin coat his father’s father could only dream of owning. he worked hard so that you’d never have to. your mama once asked – you heard it through the window, rounding cartwheels across the picket-fenced lawn – could he not find a respectable career rather than selling shrink-wrapped pork for a dime a dozen? that blood money had no business raising a child. you look far back enough, edie, your father had said in his low, strong voice that could bring a civil war to silence, and i think you’ll find that all money is blood money.

           language was never fickle on your tongue, french dinner time talk by the time you were out of your hush puppy shoes, your mama fixing the au pair a smile as she fixed herself another martini. you learned the clarinet at four and how to dance with the grace of a swansong at six, ethereal under a spotlight, an audience captive in the palm of your hand. by eight you knew that you’d always been destined to be loved. loved so hard they would want to taste you, bite into the soft plump of your cheek and eat you alive. that was how magnetic you wanted to feel. but mother hamsters eat their own young when penned in together too long, and soon you became too wild, too restless, another package on your father’s delivery invoice, box-shipped out to english boarding school.

           fitting in had never been something you had to concern yourself with. you were always the shiny new toy the other girls wanted to play with, bright like a dropped coin from a magpie’s beak. wherever you went, you seemed to leave a trail of awe, pig-tailed harriet’s adoring you, imitating you, teachers forgiving your class-time chatter for the sake of your wild heart and the restless spirit you possessed. tell us what it’s like in the states, alma. they’d coo, enamoured by your hollywood drawl. does your father own a gun? you hardly knew. barely even knew the colour of his hair, for the scarce amount of times he’d stoop to kiss your cheek, though you’d tell silver-tongued tales if it’d guaranteed you an audience. when you learned how to smile at the right times, and that flattery would get you everywhere, it soon became apparent that charm would pave the yellow brick road to success even when your lack of drive couldn’t.

           the road you followed – gum-snapping, roller-blading, friendship bands all up your arm – eventually led you to small-town fame. bright-eyed and gingham skirted, you’d always known you were more. there was a hunger in you to be something extraordinary, a want so adamant to be imagined and desired that it was almost savage. in leather-bound volumes and a circle of stones, you were helen of troy, the girl for whom they’d launch a thousand ships. but there’s so much rage within you, collecting like sawdust in cavernous parts. hockey helped. there was something grounding about the feeling of a stick clasped in your hands. sweat. stiff knuckles. feet pounding the earth. the smash of wood against flesh in the scram of a game, passed off as mere enthusiasm. “slipped, sorry.” hockey is the one thing you had that was yours alone – a feral instinct that motivates you to play; something primitive within you that sparks an energy like no other. on the pitch, you feel alive.

[valntinemorgenstern]

4,10,28,37,44,49

4 - Is there a book that you think needs a bigger fandom?? - my gut response was the raven cycle but then i rememebered that, actually, trc already has a fairly sizeableish fandom, and they are….terrible, so in lieu of that…the scorpio races! that is an absolutely amazing book that i love. oh, the wicked king! by holly black. i know it has a fandom but it’s still fairly small, and i adore that series. oh oh! and circe by madeline miller. everyone on here loves tsoa, but no one ever mentions circe, and that is legit 100 x times better, objectively speaking. 

10 - What would you like to change/see more of in the community??: for ppl to grasp some of the most basic concepts in literature lol ie that character development is often predicated on characters being flawed/making mistakes; no ‘progressive shipping’ or hating on ppl because they do/do not like a certain pairing; less fervour around the idea that representation is the be-all and end-all of whether or not a book is considered good; no hating on authors for anything they have/have not done in their books. TL;DR less over-moralisation, more respect, more thoughtful criticism, less hate. 

28 - First book that comes to mind, tell us about it. Rant: haha well i recently read this book called the sealwoman’s gift and it was set in the 1600′s and is about an icelandic woman (and all her fellow icelanders) being taken as slaves to algiers, morocco. and the ending was just ridiculous. the main plot of the whole book centers around this woman’s romance with (essentially her captor/the man who bought her) over a number of years and then by the end of he wants to marry her and free her etc. and she – equally in love with him – is just like, nope, i wanna go back to iceland with my aged, boring white husband there. which is what she does. so she goes back, realises she is absolutely fucking miserable, and regrets everything. her husband dies; she goes to this random guy for comfort, feels better and then it ends. what an absolutely fucking pointless storyline. i just can’t believe that that was a satisfying conclusion to write at all. that is patently the worst possible way to round off a character’s development.

37 - Is there a book that you think everyone should read?? oh DEAR haha well to be honest i’m not sure? if m degree taught me anything, it taught me that literature should never be didactic, and there is no such thing as a book that should be exalted above all others. what i definitely do believe is that everyone should read, period. it makes me incredibly sad that we live in a culture where reading is often the preserve of well-educated, middle-class (and often overly female) audiences. we need to go back to the days where reading, and to be seen reading, and being considered well-read was an aspiration of all members of society, regardless of background or gender. but in many ways…reading is now something of a niche pursuit? which is really, really sad. 

44 - Favourite book quote, go.: GOD i’m just gonna say one thats comes to the top of my head bc i really have so many. ofc it’s from wuthering heights. 

‘I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.’ i couldn’t honestly tell you what the hell catherine earnshaw is actually going on about here lol but for some reason (aside from the fact that it is definitely one of the most poetic bits of prose in the whole book), it really resonates with me. something about the approximation of what she’s saying about introspection, and how some thoughts, or thought processes, you have stay with you and totally change you as you as a person, really rings true. 

49 - Worse book you’ve ever read??: wow there are lot of those….but i’m struggling to pin one down haha so i’m just gonna say catcher in the rye haha it’s absolutely god-awful