#and I just cry thinking about it every timeđđ
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đRandom JJK Men Headcanons!đ
Creds to @cafekitsune for all dividers!!
Masterlist
NSFW CONTENT UP AHEAD!!
Includes: Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Shiu Kong (Maybe more characters in the future! Recommend some nâ they might be up here next!âŚjust no minors pls unless itâs for fluff đđ)
Not rlly proofread so Iâm sorry for any mistakes!!!
Kento Nanami
⢠Would definitely be a whiner, especially when itâs time to get up in the morning, âMmm..darlingggâŚâ, his grip on your waist becoming tighter. âJust five more minutes.. pretty pleaseâŚ?â, how could you possibly deny your sweet husband?
⢠Kento will always help you with your hair if needed and is always good at it (You donât know this, but every night while your sleeping, he watches YouTube videos on how to style curly hair in cute styles he knows youâd like).
⢠Rarely ever cries to you since he doesnât want you stressing out over him. When he did cry, however, youâd be sure to have him lay on your lap and softly coo at him until he falls asleep.
⢠Will be the cook of the house. Sure, heâd let you cook a few meals from time to time, but he would prefer cooking for you instead of vice versa. (His food ALWAYS ended up delicious)
âKento let me cook for tonight please! You cook all the timeee!â You whine as youâre being dragged back to the living room by your husband.
âPlease, my love, sit down. I want you to relax this evening.â Kento kisses you on your forehead as he sits you down on the couch. âDinner will be ready in a few, okay?â
âTomorrow night Kento, I will be cooking.â You say with a pout on your face, and Kento canât help but let out a chuckle.
âWhatever you say, sweetheart.â
⢠When one of your favorite songs of all time play on the car radio, youâd scream the lyrics, eventually luring Kento in to sing with you. He probably wouldnât know half of the songs you listen to, but heâll still sing with you if it makes you happy.
⢠Never calls you by your name unless something serious is going on. Will always call you baby, sweetheart, darling, love, or honey. (Ex. âLove, if you donât mind, could you get me a sandwich from that bakery I always go to?â âHoney, youâre always so good to me, I love you so much.â)
⢠Speaking of which, he loves it when you call him sweetie, Ken, or even if you refer to him as âyour manâ. He gets hard just thinking about it.
⢠Heâs definitely a little pervert. Whenever youâre out the house for a lengthened period of time, heâd use the opportunity to steal multiple pairs a pair of your used underwear and jack off to it in your shared bedroom, making sure to leave his cum right in the center of your panties. Little did he know, however, the cameras in your house caught every second of it.
⢠Kento would absolutely love to be dominated by you. Just the thought of you riding him and fucking him with your strap until thereâs tears rolling down his face just does something to him.
⢠Heâll beg and whimper to you at any point during sex, the way he looks so pathetic as soon as you have him in your grasp is something indescribable and makes you want more. âMmhâbabyyyyâhaahâoh godddâIâm gonna cumm-â
âL-Love pleaseâplease let meââ
âOoohhhhâcanât hold it b-back, d-darling-â
⢠We all know this man is an absolute king when it comes to aftercare. Giving you a minute to rest, he goes to your kitchen and brews up some chamomile tea. Afterwards, he runs a warm bath with some rose petals which he knows you like.
Toji Fushiguro
⢠Isnât very good at communication due to being raised in nothing but an abusive household. Knowing this, you help him every step of the way, and he canât help but look at you with hearts in his eyes.
â˘Heâll hit you with a dad joke at the most random and unexpected times. You could both be showering together and heâd be talking about some, âWhat do you call two ducks and a cow? Quackers and milk.â Theyâll always make you laugh, though.
⢠Expect Toji to tease you 24/7. For example, if youâre wearing a bonnet, best believe heâs snatching it off as soon as you walk past him, laughing and holding it over his head as youâre trying to take it back.
-SWOOP- All you feel now is a breeze on the top of your head instead of your trusty bonnet. âToji I swear to God if you donât stop snatching my bonnet thereâs gonna be problems.â You turn to face the man who now has your leopard print bonnet in his big hand.
âOh please girl,â you hated the way he mirrored your sass. (You didnât) âYâr not gonna do a thing to me.â He chuckled, now putting your bonnet on his head.
âTojiiiii youâre gonna stretch it outtt!â You groaned and hit his chest, yet Toji doesnât pay you any mind.
âBabyyyyy,â He mimics you, âIâll give it back under one condition.â
You sigh, knowing the exact condition.
âJusâ gimmie a kiss, and the bonnet is all yours.â
⢠His usual go-to of pet names would include: Doll, babe, baby, ma, brat, and princess (Ex. âBabe, you wanna come to this new restaurant with me? Heard they had some good steak.â âQuit beinâ such a little brat.â âYâlook so damn pretty, doll.â).
⢠Toji brags to his best friend Shiu all about you, much to his annoyance. He boasts about how pretty you are, how smart you are, how big your ass is, and how lucky he is to have you.
⢠He absolutely loves the way you treat his five year old son, Megumi. You treat the boy as if heâs your own, and Toji canât help but smile until his cheeks are sore, and even then he wouldnât stop smiling.
⢠This man cannot cook for shit. The only cooking heâs doing would be making toast with butter or ordering takeout.
⢠Heâd definitely eat you out of a house and home and take a fat nap afterwards, though. His portions of food would be enough to feed three people. Living with him, youâd have to go food shopping every two days.
⢠Though heâd never admit it, Toji loves hugs and how you smother him will all kinds of affection. Heâd act all annoyed and tough and claim he doesnât like it, but deep down you both know he eats it up every single time.
â˘Expect to see dirty gym socks and other clothing attire scattered across your shared bedroom. Youâll tell him to stop acting like a pig and clean up after himself, but itâll go in one ear and straight out the other.
⢠Toji has such a praise kink. Whenever the words âgood boyâ or any other compliment leaves your pretty lips, itâs like he canât think for himself anymore.
⢠He loves, loves, loves, having sex in missionary position with you. He loves being so close to you, being able to smell your special scent, and whisper in your ears, âLook howâfuckâlook how messy this pretty pussy is for me, ma.â
âYâr taking my cock so fucking well, baby.â
âLove ya so fucking much, yâknow that? HahâshitâYeah, yâknow that.â while heâs absolutely demolishing your insides. Donât get him wrong, the man loves tons of sex positions, but missionary will always be his first pick.
⢠He may not look the part, but Toji whimpers and moans like crazy when heâs about to cum. âHnghhâooohhhhâfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckââ
⢠When he cums, expect a bunch of it. Itâs so much that it leaks out of your throbbing cunt and onto the light pink bed sheets, leaving a puddle.
⢠His kind of aftercare would be licking your clit, ridding it of any leftover cum. Afterwards, heâd give you a water bottle and massage any aching body parts. Heâd then order some of your favorite take out and youâd both eat it together while watching some corny dad show he found on tv.
Shiu Kong
⢠You have this man wrapped around your pretty finger. Heâll spoil you rotten. He couldnât possibly think of saying no to his princess, especially when he has the money to get you whatever you want.
⢠You will never find yourself in a position where you need to lift a finger whenever heâs around. Youâll get nothing but royalty treatment.
⢠Shiu absolutely hates it whenever youâre around Toji. He knows Toji wouldnât do anything, but seeing you even look at him gets on his nerves.
⢠You wake up to the smell of some freshly cooked bacon and eggs (or whatever else youâd favor) due to him. His day will literally be ruined if he isnât able to cook for you.
⢠Whenever you want your hair and nails done, Shiu will give you the money, plus a little extra so you can get yourself something nice.
⢠Your car will definitely end up smelling like his cigarettes mixed with his signature cologne after a while.
⢠You practically beg him to teach you a few words in Korean (mostly curse words) since you claims he sounds so sexy speaking it.
âCome onnnnnn,â you whine, following Shiu around the house as he carries the clean laundry in a basket. âJust one word, please?â
âIâve already said a word, princess, donât you remember that?â He stops in his tracks and turns to face you.
âOkayâwellâone more!â you pout and cross your arms.
âDonât do that,â Shiu chuckles, then sighs contently. âHow could I ever say no to you, beautiful?â Your eyes light up and a big smile is displayed on your face.
âěŹëí´ě, ěě.â He whispers in your ear and leaves a kiss on your cheek.
âWhatâs that mean??â
âIt means I love you, pretty.â He cups your face with two hands. You canât help but giggle and leave a kiss on his lips.
⢠Like Kento, Shiu wouldnât call you by your name at all. He hasnât called you by your name ever since you two first met. Sometimes you wonder if he even knows your name (he does). The names he calls you are: Doll face, love, princess, pretty, beautiful, bunny (Ex. âDid yâwant this necklace, princess?â âLetâs go out to eat, doll face.â âYou can take it, bunny, canât you? Yes you can.â).
⢠Every morning, his head is found in between your legs, licking and sucking at your clit. Every time you try to push his head away due to overstimulation, he says âCome on, pretty, mâjust eating some breakfast, gimmie a minute.â
⢠This man is extremely weak for head. His breathy moans only get louder as heâs getting closer and closer to his climax. âOhh f-fuckâmy loveâs-sâcloseââ
âYâr sucking sâgood prettyâmmhâso fucking good-â
⢠Heâll immediately return the favor by stuffing your sobbing pussy with his fat cock, thrusting in an unforgiving pace. âH-Hahâyou h-hear that? Yâhear how sheâsâshitâpurring for me l-love?â
âI know you can take it bunny, I know you canâooohhh ffffuckkkk-â
⢠After heâs done with you, he kisses your forehead and wipes you down with a warm damp towel. He then massages your plump thighs and kisses your face a bit more. When youâre finally asleep, he goes out to your balcony for a quick smoke.
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Songs of the Heart (m) | pjm | chap 2: who
Youâre only human, and day by day, you find yourself falling for your neighborâthe world-renowned singer-songwriter, Jimin. But behind his dazzling smile lies a hidden fragility, a heart weighed down by unspoken sorrow. When his young daughter shows up at your door, her teary eyes and trembling voice telling you her father is crying, your heart skips a beat. Rushing to his side, you find him on the floor of his studio, surrounded by scattered papers and raw, unfiltered pain. Now, as his quiet strength falters, youâre left wonderingâcan you be the melody to soothe his fractured soul? Can you help him piece together the remnants of his broken heart?
â Pairing: jimin x reader (female) â AUs: musician!au (not completely idol!au), single dad!au, slice of life!au â Trope: strangers to lovers / neighbors to lovers â Genres: slow burn romance / fluff / angst / smut / comedy â Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) â Word count: 8.8k â Warnings + triggers: mention of past bad relationships (only briefly mentioned), crying, pain, hurt (emotional), stereotypical assumptions, slight misunderstandings, protective and oblivious big brother Yoongi, Hwa-Young is so cute đ â Read on AO3? [link] â Authorâs note: waaaah 𤧠This chapter holds such a special place in my heartâitâs one of those moments that feels like capturing a fragile piece of the soul in words. Thereâs something tender, something magical about it... but Iâll let you discover that for yourself. I truly hope it speaks to you as deeply as it does to me đŤśđ This whole story (which will be posted every Sunday for the next eight weeks) is for my dear friend @remmykinsff! I hope youâll love it đ
â prev | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next â
Jimin is the kind of neighbor who seems almost too good to be true. Warm, thoughtful, and effortlessly kind, heâs the type of person who lights up a space simply by existing. But thereâs a shadow beneath his radianceâa quiet sadness that lingers in his faraway glances, in the melancholy chords of his songs. Despite his inviting smile, you canât help but wonder what burdens his heart carries. Is it loss? Longing? The memory of someone who used to be hereâperhaps the mother of his sweet, joyful daughter? The questions tug at your mind, but you hold them back. Curiosity simmers, yet you donât dare pry into his private pain.
Since the day you introduced yourself, heâs gone out of his way to make you feel at home. In the past week, youâve unpacked every last box, even posting an ad for someone to take them off your hands for reuse. And in that same time, Jimin has invited you into his cozy, art-filled home more times than you can count, eager to hear your thoughts on his lyrics. His daughter is just as charming as the house she brightens, her laughter filling every corner. Their kindness is so genuine, so disarmingly human, that you wonder how someone so well-known, so revered, could remain this grounded. Youâd expected someone of his fame and talent to carry an air of distance, but Park Jimin is anything but.
âSo, do you have the hots for him yet?â Namjoon teases, jabbing his fork into a helpless carrot on his plate.
The question hits like a snowball, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, turning them as pink as the cranberry sauce on your plate. âWhat? No!â you stammer, immediately looking away, out the frosted window of the restaurant. Outside, snowflakes swirl in the brisk wind, blanketing the streets in soft white. Itâs warm inside, but the chill of Namjoonâs question lingers. Christmas is just around the corner, and yet, all you can think about is a certain neighbor with sad eyes and a voice that seems to carry the weight of the world.
When you donât respondâdonât even lift your gaze from the tableâNamjoon chuckles, the sound low and teasing. âSo you do like him.â
A heavy sigh escapes you as you practically collapse against the table, your arms folding under you like a crumpled paper. âHow can you blame me?â you groan, voice tinged with exasperation, though the tightness blooming in your chest says otherwise. Jiminâs face flashes in your mindâhis warm smile, his soothing voice, the gentle way he looks at his daughterâand your heart betrays you, skipping a beat. âHeâs just⌠heâs so good-looking, so sweet, soâkind. And donât even get me started on his daughter. Sheâs the most precious kid Iâve ever met.â
âWait,â you say suddenly, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as though afraid the other restaurant patrons might overhear. âDid you know he had a daughter?â
Namjoon pauses, his glass of water halfway to his lips. He raises a brow. âI didnât,â he admits, taking a sip. âBut, honestly, it makes sense. The guy keeps his private life locked up tighter than a vault. I didnât even know he lived out here in the sticks.â
You laugh softly, though thereâs an edge of disbelief to it. âRight? I mean, the Park Jimin, living in some rundown neighborhood? When I found out he was my neighbor, I thought I was dreaming. But, seriously, why would someone like him live there? Heâs famous. He has money. He could live anywhereâpenthouse, sprawling mansion, you name it. So why here?â
The thought makes your cheeks burn, and you look down at your hands, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. Youâre not sure if youâre embarrassed at the audacity of your questions or the fact that youâve been thinking about this way too much.
Leaning forward, you rest your elbows on the table and let your words tumble out before you can stop them. âJoonieâŚâ Your voice is quieter now, almost tender, as though youâre confessing something sacred. âJimin seems so sad. He lives all alone with his daughter, and all of his songsâtheyâre so full of pain, of longing. Do you thinkâŚâ You hesitate, swallowing hard, then press on. âDo you think all his songs are about his wife? Do you think she left him? OrâŚâ You donât finish the sentence.
Namjoon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as he sets his fork down with a clatter. âSlow down there, Miss Investigative Journalist.â He leans back in his chair, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. âFirst of all, did you even check if he had a ring on his finger? That might save you a lot of speculation. SecondâŚâ He points his fork at you for emphasis. âWhy are you asking me? What do I know? I donât have some magical hotline to his personal life. All I know is the guy is a phenomenal singer. If youâre that curious, why donât you ask him yourself?â
His bluntness sends a blush creeping up your neck, but you manage a small laugh, shaking your head. âAsk him? Yeah, sure, Joonie. Hey, Jimin, so who broke your heart and why do you look so sad all the time? Thatâll go over well.â
Namjoon smirks, raising a knowing brow. âHey, youâre the one whoâs dying to know. Maybe itâs time to stop speculating and start finding out.â
You let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the stool, the wooden legs creaking softly under your weight. âI didnât see a ring,â you murmur, almost to yourself. âBut⌠his daughter, Hwa-Youngâshe looked so sad when I asked about her parents. I donât know. I donât want to pry, but at the same timeâŚâ You trail off, glancing at Namjoon, your voice quieter now, hesitant. âI also donât want to get involved in something complicated, you know?â
Namjoon doesnât miss a beat. He throws his head back with a laugh, loud and carefree, drawing a few curious glances from the nearby tables. âYouâre already thinking about dating the guy, and you barely know him?â he teases, shaking his head as he spears the last piece of chicken on his plate.
âI am not!â you shoot back, your cheeks flushing. You cross your arms, pouting slightly. âIâm just⌠trying to protect myself, okay? You know what happened last time. Iâm not exactly great when it comes to men.â
Namjoon sets his fork down with a scoff, his eyes narrowing playfully. âOh, trust me, I know. Thank god you never told your brother about Mark.â
At the mention of him, you groan, covering your face with your hands as a whirlwind of memories comes rushing back. Mark, with his sharp words and subtle lies that chipped away at you piece by piece. Controlling. Manipulative. Always holding you at armâs length, but never letting you go. Everything Jimin doesnât seem to be.
You peek at Namjoon through your fingers, your lips twitching into an incredulous smile. âYoongi wouldâve kicked his ass.â The thought is enough to make you burst into laughter, the sound coming unbidden and pure, like the first light after a storm. âHonestly, itâs probably for the best that he never found out what really happened with Mark.â
Namjoonâs grin widens as he nods, clearly enjoying the idea of your overprotective brother delivering swift justice. âOh, no question. Heâd have tracked the guy down, dragged him out of whatever hole heâs hiding in, and sent him running for the hills.â
You shake your head, laughing, the tension easing from your shoulders. The restaurantâs warm glow feels softer now, like a comforting blanket against the frost-laden world outside. You glance out the window, watching the snowflakes tumble lazily from the darkening sky, and push aside the lingering thoughts of the past.
By the time youâve both polished off your plates, the conversation has shifted to lighter thingsâmemories of college pranks, ridiculous holiday traditionsâand the laughter between you and Namjoon feels like medicine.
After settling the bill, the two of you make your way to the cinema, the cold biting at your cheeks but doing nothing to dim the warmth between you. You tuck your scarf tighter around your neck as Namjoon buys tickets to the cheesiest Christmas movie playing, grinning like a kid as he hands you your popcorn.
The night stretches out before you like a quiet snowfall, soft and full of potential. And for a while, you let yourself get lost in itâlost in the glow of the screen, the sound of your best friendâs laughter, and the feeling that, maybe, just maybe, better days are finally ahead.
Days later, you find yourself nestled in Jiminâs living room, the soft hum of warmth from the fireplace wrapping around you like a blanket. Hwa-Young is curled up beside you, her bright, innocent energy a stark contrast to the quiet gravity of her fatherâs voice as he strums his guitar. The song he plays is one you heard last week, but hearing it liveâhere, in the heart of his homeâfeels different. Intimate. Raw.
âIâll put it all on the line.Iâll be that someone she can count on.One, two, three, four, fiveâŚSo many people to see.Places to go,â
His voice floats through the room, hauntingly beautiful, the kind of sound that lingers in the corners of your mind long after itâs gone. Itâs even more mesmerizing live than it was over the radio. How many singers can claim that? His voice is unfiltered, rich, filled with a vulnerability that pulls you in like a tide you canât resist.
You bop your head gently, letting the words soak into your skin, but your mind drifts, lingering on the mystery that surrounds him. Who is this song about? His lyrics feel personal, like fragments of his soul laid bare, and you canât help but wonder about the story behind them. Heâs not wearing a ringâbut not all married or widowed men do. And then thereâs Hwa-Young, undeniable proof that a woman once held a place in his life. Where is she now?
Hwa-Young slides closer to you, her small hands tugging at your sleeve as she giggles, her laughter light and free. âAinât daddy amazing?â she says, her voice brimming with pride. She flashes you a smile so bright it could rival the glow of the lights strung along the window. âHe writes all his lyrics himself.â
You glance at her, then back at Jimin, whoâs still lost in his music, his blonde hair falling slightly into his eyes as he leans into the melody. You nod, lowering your voice to a whisper as you reply, âThatâs incredible. Heâs amazing.â
And he really is. Every note, every word, every small kindness heâs shown you since the day you knocked on his door confirms it. But as much as youâre drawn to his talent and the warmth he and his daughter exude, thereâs something elseâa shadow in his gaze, a sadness woven into his songs. You know sadness isnât a fault, but you canât help but wonder if itâs a key to the puzzle of who he is and the life heâs lived.
You find yourself staring at him a moment longer than you probably should, the sound of his music echoing in your chest, making your heart ache for reasons you canât quite name.
Jiminâs fingers glide over the strings, each delicate stroke coaxing the guitar to sing. His voice follows, soft and earnest, like a confession carried on a fragile breeze. The melody wraps itself around you, filling the room with a warmth that seems to melt even the winter frost outside.
âWe never met, but sheâs all I see at night.Never met, but sheâs always on my mind.Wanna give her the world. And so much more.Who is my heart waiting for?Is she someone that I see every day?Is she somewhere a thousand miles away?â
The words weave their way into your chest, stirring something unfamiliar yet comforting. You canât help but feel the faint flutter in your heart, your cheeks heating as his voice dips lower, like a secret meant for only you to hear. And in that moment, you understand. You understand why millions of people adore himânot just because heâs an artist, but because heâs an open wound made beautiful, a man unafraid to bare his soul in his music.
It isnât just his voice or his lyrics, though both are stunning. Itâs him. His presence, his kindness, his quiet humility. The way he feels so human and yet otherworldly at the same time. Itâs impossible not to feel flustered under the gravity of who he is, as if he has a way of making you forget the rest of the world exists.
The song begins to fade, his voice softening, the strumming of his guitar slowing like the end of a heartbeat. A stillness settles over the room, fragile and delicate, as if even breathing too loudly might shatter it.
Hwa-Young, oblivious to the sudden weight in the air, turns to you, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. âY/N, do you have a boyfriend?â
Her question feels like a pebble tossed into a quiet lake, sending ripples through the silence. Jiminâs fingers falter, the music stopping abruptly, leaving the air heavy with unspoken tension. His gaze flickers to you, unreadable, and you feel the heat of his attention settling on your already burning cheeks.
You laugh nervously, a sound that feels too sharp in the gentle atmosphere of the room. âI donât,â you manage, your voice betraying the sudden tightness in your chest.
But why does your heart race? Why does the admission of your single status feel like something monumental here, in this room, in the presence of Park Jimin? You havenât thought about relationships in so longânot since Mark left you in pieces, his manipulation and control carving wounds you thought would never heal. Youâd sworn off men like him, sworn off feeling this kind of vulnerability ever again.
So why, now, do you feel as though a single glance from Jimin could undo all those walls? Why does the quiet between you feel louder than the song heâd just played?
Hwa-Young giggles, her innocence breaking the moment, but your thoughts linger, circling around questions you canât yet answer.
Jimin offers you a soft smile, the kind that feels warm but weighted with unspoken thoughts. You sense his gaze lingering, yet you canât bring yourself to meet his eyes. Something about the moment feels too tender, too fragile to face head-on.
âMy dad is single too,â Hwa-Young chimes in, her cheerful tone catching you off guard. Your cheeks burn again, and you feel as though your entire face might combust. Is she⌠is she trying to play matchmaker with her father? The idea stirs an unexpected mix of flustered amusement and⌠something you canât quite name. But if heâs single, then does that meanâŚ?
Jimin shifts in his chair, resting his arms casually against the curve of the guitar, though his expression turns gentle, serious. âHwa-Youngâs mother passed away shortly after she was born,â he says softly, his voice carrying a heaviness that lingers in the air, wrapping around the room like a cloud.
The words hit you like a sharp wind. Your heart clenches as you glance at Hwa-Young, who sits beside you, still smiling, though itâs tinged with something wistful and bittersweet. She probably doesnât remember her mother at all. And Jimin⌠Jimin is a widower. A young widower. You canât help but wonder how heâs carried that weight for so long, raising his daughter with such love and kindness despite the ache that must linger in the quiet moments.
âShe was daddyâs best friend,â Hwa-Young adds, looking up at you with a small, melancholy smile. Her words make your heart ache in ways you hadnât expected, the sweetness of her tone laced with an understanding far beyond her years.
âOh, Iâm so sorry,â you murmur, the lump in your throat growing harder to swallow as you address them both. Your thoughts are tangled, a mix of sorrow for their loss and admiration for the strength it must take to carry on.
A question bubbles to your lips before you can stop it, driven by the weight of curiosity and compassion. âIs Hwa-Youngâs mother who youâre singing about?â The words escape before you can think better of them, and your face instantly flushes with regret. You bite your lip and lower your gaze, berating yourself for prying into something so intimate.
But Jimin doesnât seem offended. If anything, his smile remains, soft and calm, like the steady rhythm of a tide. He leans forward slightly over his guitar, the warm tones of his voice easing your nerves. âNot really,â he replies with an almost bittersweet chuckle. âI just like singing about love⌠because Iâve never really experienced it.â
His confession catches you off guard. You blink, taken aback, his words echoing in your mind. Never experienced love? How could someone like himâa man who seems to pour so much longing and devotion into his musicâhave never truly felt the very thing he sings about?
âBut what aboutâŚ?â you begin hesitantly, the words fumbling on your tongue as you glance at Hwa-Young. You donât know how to frame the question, donât know how much Jimin has shared with his daughter about her mother. You donât want to tread on sacred ground, but the curiosity burns too brightly within you.
Jimin tilts his head slightly, watching you with a knowing look, as if he can read every thought racing through your mind. The room feels smaller now, quieter, as you wait for his response.
âOh. Jiwoo and I were never in love,â Jimin says softly, his words gentle but sure, carrying the weight of a truth long settled. âShe was just my best friend.â His tone holds no bitterness, only the quiet grace of someone who has long made peace with the past.
Before you can respond, Hwa-Young slides down from the couch, her laughter light and airy as she runs to her father. Jimin sets the guitar carefully on the floor, opening his arms just in time for her to leap onto his lap. She settles there with the ease of someone who knows sheâs always welcome, her joy radiating as he threads his fingers tenderly through her chestnut hair. She giggles at his touch, her laugh as pure as a bell.
The sight pulls at your heart, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest. Thereâs something about the way Jimin looks at her, his entire being devoted to this moment, that makes it hard to look away. You feel a small smile tugging at your lips, your eyes prickling with tears you canât explain.
âSoâŚâ you venture, your voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the delicate warmth in the room. âYouâre looking for love?â
Jimin glances up at you, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. âKind of, yeah,â he admits with a soft chuckle, and then grins, teasingly adding, âBut love songs also make me a lot of money.â
Before you can react, Hwa-Young chimes in, flashing a proud smile. âWeâre rich!â she declares, her enthusiasm unfiltered and unapologetic.
Jimin bursts into laughter, his shoulders shaking as he looks at his daughter. âHwa-Young,â he says with gentle patience, âweâve talked about this. We donât go around saying weâre rich.â He leans down slightly, catching her gaze. âYes, we have money. But weâre just like everyone else.â
Hwa-Youngâs cheeks flush pink as she looks down, sheepishly nodding. âOh, sorry, I forgot.â
âItâs okay,â Jimin says, brushing off her embarrassment with a warm smile. He tousles her hair affectionately, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, which draws another giggle from her.
The scene before you is almost too muchâtoo warm, too full of love, too foreign to your own experienceâand yet you canât bring yourself to look away. Instead, you sit there, taking it all in, the ache in your chest mingling with a kind of longing you donât quite know how to name.
This bond Jimin has with his daughterâthis easy, overflowing loveâreminds you of something you once had, something you still miss deeply. Itâs the kind of connection you shared with your dad, back when his hugs felt like a shield from the world and his laughter made everything seem lighter. Warm and unconditional.
You swallow hard, suddenly aware of how rare this feeling is in your life now. Men have always seemed distant, their affections guarded or transactional. Whatever Jimin has in his heart, itâs something entirely differentâsomething you havenât found in romance and canât help but yearn for.
And as you sit there, watching him whisper something to Hwa-Young that sends her into another fit of giggles, you wonderânot for the first timeâif youâve spent too long searching in the wrong places.
Days have blurred into weeks, a gentle rhythm forming in your life. Most evenings, you find yourself at Jiminâs house, Hwa-Young nestled comfortably in your lap, her laughter ringing out like wind chimes as Jiminâs fingers dance over guitar strings. His voice fills the room, tender and haunting, and you let it wrap around you like a warm blanket after a long day. On the weekends, when youâre not exhausted from work, you sit there longer, hours slipping away in a haze of quiet conversations, soft melodies, and the kind of peace you havenât felt in years.
You wouldnât call it romanticâat least not yet. But thereâs something about being near him, hearing his voice, watching the way he interacts with his daughter, that makes your chest feel a little lighter, your smile a little wider. Itâs enough for now, and that alone feels like a gift.
Today is a rare day off, a pause in the steady hum of life. Bundled up against the cold, you step outside to toss your trash, the crisp winter air nipping at your cheeks. As you near the bins, you notice Jimin on the same errand. His silhouette is soft against the gray sky, breath rising in small, fleeting clouds. When he spots you, his expression brightens, and he lifts a hand to wave before crossing the short distance to you.
âNot working today?â he asks, his voice warm against the chill as he offers you one of those soft, heart-stopping smiles that always seem to linger on his pink lips.
You shake your head, a grin tugging at your own mouth. âNope. Iâm on vacation until after New Yearâs.â
âLucky you,â he says, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets. âDid you have a good Christmas?â
âI did,â you say with a nod, the memory bringing a flicker of warmth to your face. âWhat about you guys?â
âWe had a great time,â he replies, his smile widening. âHwa-Youngâs grandparents came over, along with my parents and grandparents. It was nice.â
He pauses, tilting his head slightly as his eyes sweep over you. âAre you freezing?â
You laugh softly, though your chattering teeth betray you. âA little,â you admit, bouncing slightly on your feet in an attempt to ward off the biting cold.
Jimin chuckles, the sound low and warm, and then his expression shifts, thoughtful. âYou know,â he begins, âyouâve never shown me your place. Mind if I come over and see it?â
His question catches you off guard, and your cheeks flush a shade of red that has nothing to do with the temperature. You fumble for a response, nodding quickly, your breath misting in the air as you manage to mumble, âSure.â
âGreat,â he says, and you swear his smile softens even further as he falls into step beside you, his presence as easy and natural as the falling snow.
As you lead him toward your door, you canât help but feel a flutter of nerves mix with excitement. For weeks now, youâve been a guest in his home, soaking in the warmth and love that radiates there. And now, for the first time, heâs stepping into your space, a piece of your world.
You let Jimin step inside, his presence filling the quiet space like a comforting hum. Youâve never known someone who could so effortlessly invite themselves over without it feeling awkward, but somehow, with him, itâs differentâendearing, even. Maybe itâs the way he carries himself, or the subtle confidence in his smile. Still, you canât help but wonder what could possibly interest him about your small, modest home.
âI love what youâve done with the place,â he says as his gaze drifts over your living room, and something about his tone makes you pause. You realize he must have known the people who lived here before.
âOh, um, thanks,â you murmur, shifting your weight slightly before offering, âWould you like some tea?â
He nods, his smile softening as he walks to your sofa and settles onto it, as if he belongs there. âYes, thank you,â he says warmly, his voice carrying the quiet ease of familiarity.
You move to the kitchen, the gentle clinking of mugs and the quiet hiss of boiling water filling the air as you prepare the tea. When itâs ready, you return, the cups warm in your hands, and you sit down beside him. Itâs only then, as you hand him his mug and feel the heat from his arm so close to yours, that it hits youâthis is the first time youâve been alone with Jimin. Without Hwa-Youngâs cheerful chatter filling the air, the room feels heavier, more intimate.
âWhereâs Hwa-Young?â you ask, the question escaping your lips before you can stop yourself.
Jiminâs smile deepens, his expression softening in that way it always does when he talks about his daughter. âSheâs at school. Theyâre offering extra classes today.â
You nod, sipping your tea, the delicate warmth spreading through your chest. The silence between you isnât uncomfortable, but itâs charged in a way you canât quite explain. It lingers, stretching like the glow of sunset before nightfall, until Jimin shifts slightly, turning toward you.
âI actually wanted to thank you,â he says, his voice low, sincere, and when you glance at him, your brows furrow in confusion. He chuckles at the look, shaking his head slightly before continuing, âFor being so kind to Hwa-Young.â
His words catch you off guard, and your heart twists as you see the gratitude in his eyes. You canât help but smile back, warmth blooming in your chest. âOf course! Sheâs so sweet and cuteâitâs impossible not to love her,â you say, the image of her bright smile flashing in your mind.
Jimin chuckles softly, but thereâs something else in his expressionâsomething wistful. He takes another sip of tea, his gaze drifting for a moment before he murmurs, âNot everyone finds her sweet.â
His words are quiet, almost as if spoken to himself, but they linger in the air, heavy with meaning. You blink, surprised, your curiosity bubbling to the surface before you can stop it. âWhy?â
The single word slips out, unguarded, and as soon as you say it, you feel your cheeks flush. But Jimin doesnât seem to mind. He sets his mug down gently on the table, his fingers brushing against the handle, and his gaze meets yours.
Jiminâs lips part, and you know heâs about to say somethingâsomething that feels heavy and importantâbut before the words can form, the faint scrape of metal against metal cuts through the moment. A key slides into the lock, followed by the soft click of the door swinging open. The chill of winter slips in, brushing against your skin and swirling into the warmth of the room. You instinctively turn your head toward the entrance, your breath hitching as your brother, Yoongi, steps inside.
You recognize him immediatelyânot just by sight, but by the familiar rhythm of his grumbling and the huff of annoyance that escapes his lips as he wrestles with an armful of grocery bags. Only Yoongi, you think, would crash into your life unannounced and utterly unapologetic. After all, itâs only him and Namjoon who have a spare key to your place. But stillâwhy now? Why does it have to be now of all times?
Yoongiâs presence is as it always is: sharp-edged, protective, and oddly comforting. For a man who once told you to âbe a grown-ass adult,â he sure as hell has a habit of showing up with groceries and cooking dinner for you like itâs a duty heâs assigned himself. Youâve long since stopped questioning it. This is how Yoongi lovesâthrough the quiet, practical acts of care that speak volumes even when his words donât.
He steps into the living room, his boots leaving faint marks of melted snow on your floor. But then he stops, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the sight of you and Jimin sitting side by side on the sofa. His gaze flits between the two of you, sharp and assessing, and his lips press into a line.
âHi,â he says at last, his voice low and raspier than usual, the single word carrying more weight than it should.
âHi,â you reply flatly, trying to mask the unease creeping into your chest. From the corner of your eye, you notice Jimin glance at you, his brow furrowing in quiet curiosity. He doesnât say anything, but the unspoken question hangs in the air.
You wave a dismissive hand toward your brother. âJust put it in the kitchen,â you say, gesturing at the bags heâs still holding. Anything to break the tension, to redirect the moment back to something mundane. But as Yoongi moves toward the kitchen, the clatter of grocery bags and the hum of the fridge door opening do little to quiet the storm of thoughts brewing in your head.
What had Jimin been about to say? Would he pick up the thread again, or was the moment already gone?
When Yoongi finishes unpacking, he saunters back into the living room with the slow, deliberate gait of someone who knows how to make their presence known. His gaze flicks between you and Jimin once more, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
âArenât you going to say thank you?â he asks, his voice light but tinged with mock annoyance.
Itâs such a Yoongi thing to sayâhalf-serious, half-teasing, his version of poking at you just to see how youâll react. You sigh, rolling your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch upward despite yourself.
You huff, crossing your arms as you fix your brother with an exasperated glare. âYeah, yeah, thank you so much,â you mutter, waving him off with a flick of your hand. But Yoongi doesnât head back to the kitchen. Instead, his eyes widen, darting between you and the man sitting beside you.
âOh my god,â he breathes, his voice low but loaded with incredulity. His gaze locks onto Jimin like heâs just uncovered a secret scandal. âIs that⌠is that Park Jimin?â
You groan, rolling your eyes so hard youâre surprised they donât stay stuck. âYeah,â you reply, deadpan. âHeâs my neighbor.â
Yoongiâs mouth opens slightly, as if heâs struggling to process this groundbreaking revelation. âYou never told me that,â he accuses, his tone dripping with disbelief, as though withholding this information is some heinous crime.
Jimin, to his credit, sits there gracefully, his eyes flitting between you and Yoongi, an amused smile tugging at his lips. He shifts slightly in his seat, clearly unsure whether to be flattered or just let the moment pass.
You sigh, feeling heat creep into your cheeks. âThis is my big brother, Yoongi,â you say, gesturing toward him with the weariness of someone who knows this interaction is going to get worse before it gets better.
Jimin tilts his head in greeting, his posture as warm and composed as ever, and then extends his hand, palm steady and inviting. âItâs a pleasure to meet you,â he says, his voice velvet-smooth.
Yoongi, of course, isnât one to miss a beat. He grins, flashing his signature gummy smile as he takes Jiminâs hand in his own. âThe pleasureâs all mine. My wife is obsessed with you.â
And there it isâthat word. Obsessed. You cringe, the flush in your cheeks deepening until it feels like your face could rival the color of the setting sun. You sink slightly into the sofa cushions, wishing theyâd just swallow you whole. Who isnât in love with Jimin? you think, casting a side glance at the man in question.
Jimin chuckles softly, a sound that feels like the crackle of a cozy fireplace, and you catch a faint blush rising up his neck, settling on his cheeks. Itâs subtle, but itâs thereâproof that even someone as seemingly untouchable as him can get flustered. He doesnât say anything to Yoongiâs comment, just offers a polite smile and a quiet laugh.
Yoongi, obliviousâor maybe purposefully obliviousâplops himself into the armchair directly across from the two of you. The chair creaks slightly under his weight, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as if settling in for a long interrogation.
âSoâŚâ Yoongi begins, his tone annoyingly casual. âWhat were you two talking about?â
You clench your teeth, trying to stave off the irritation rising in your chest. Yoongi might as well have brought a flashing neon sign reading âThird Wheelâ and planted it in your living room. Couldnât he see that he was interrupting? Couldnât he feel the delicate atmosphere heâd just shattered?
You shoot him a pointed look, silently willing him to disappear back into the kitchenâor, better yet, back to wherever he came from with those damn groceries. But Yoongi doesnât budge. He sits there, grinning, blissfully ignorantâor perhaps intentionally obtuseâas if his mere presence isnât practically cockblocking you.
You glance at Jimin, wondering if he feels the shift, the way the air between you had been light and full of possibility just moments ago, only to be deflated by your brotherâs untimely arrival. But Jimin doesnât seem annoyed. Instead, he looks�� entertained. Like this is some private little comedy show unfolding before him.
You canât decide if that makes it better or worse.
You donât say anything. The words sit heavy on your tongue, tangled in hesitation, because continuing this conversation feels too personalâtoo vulnerableâespecially with your brother sitting there like an uninvited witness. Jimin, perceptive as ever, is quick to steer the moment in another direction. His voice is a balm, smooth and unhurried.
âI was just asking your sister if sheâd like to come see me perform at my concert in May,â he says, his eyes shifting toward you, warm and expectant.
Your head snaps up, and you gape at him, blinking as if youâve misheard. Does he mean his sold-out stadium tour? Your heart stumbles over itself, and beside you, Yoongi looks just as stunned, his jaw slack. You can practically see the wheels turning in his headâprobably imagining being in your shoes just so he could make his wifeâs wildest dreams come true.
âEhm⌠yeah, if you want me there?â you manage to stammer, the words slipping out in a breathless, uncertain tumble. You canât tell if itâs a question or an answer. Youâre too taken aback to know.
âOf course,â Jimin replies, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, his gaze lingering on you in a way that feels both casual and intimate. âYouâve helped me so much these past weeks. Itâs the least I can do.â His hand brushes against your thighâlight, fleeting, but electric.
For a moment, your entire world narrows to the warmth of his touch, the gentle cadence of his voice. The blood rushes to your face, heat pooling in your cheeks, and you feel like you might combust right there on the sofa. If only Yoongi werenât sitting directly across from you, his hawk-like gaze taking in every detail, his brow furrowed as if mentally cataloging the scene to interrogate you later.
âBackstage pass, too,â Jimin adds casually, as though he hasnât just turned your world upside down.
You barely nod, unable to form a coherent thought. Yoongi, however, stares at you, his expression flitting between disbelief and muted jealousy. You avoid his gaze, knowing full well whatâs going through his mind: Why didnât you tell me Park Jimin was your neighbor? His wife would combust on the spot if she ever found out.
Moments later, Jimin rises, his presence still lingering even as he moves toward the door. âI should head back,â he says, his voice warm, though you can sense his reluctance to leave.
You trail behind him to the door, your heart pounding. âThank you,â you manage softly as he slips on his shoes.
He turns back, his smile lighting the space between you. âIâll see you soon, then?â
You nod, unable to do much else as the door clicks shut behind him, and the room plunges into a momentary stillness.
But the peace doesnât last.
The second the door closes, Yoongiâs voice cuts through the quiet like a crack of thunder. âWhy didnât you tell me Park Jimin is your neighbor?â His tone is sharp, his eyes narrowing at you with all the intensity of an older brother who feels personally wronged.
You sigh, crossing your arms in a gesture of defiance. âBecause I donât want you telling your wife,â you shoot back, leveling him with a pointed look. âThe man deserves some privacy, and I know exactly what would happen if you let her find out. Sheâd be at my place every day trying to âbump into him.â No, thank you.â
Yoongi scoffs, clearly unimpressed with your reasoning. âYou act like Iâd tell her on purpose,â he grumbles, though his tone betrays his guilt.
âYou would tell her,â you counter, your voice firm. âMaybe not on purpose, but you wouldnât be able to keep it to yourself. One glass of wine at dinner and itâd slip out.â
Yoongi opens his mouth to argue, then seems to think better of it. Instead, he leans back in the chair with a resigned huff. âFine,â he mutters. âBut if you end up dating the guy, you have to let me and my wife meet him.â
You roll your eyes, exhaling in frustration as you grab one of the throw pillows and hurl it at him. âGet out of my business, Yoongi.â
But even as you say it, you canât stop the small smile tugging at your lips. Because for all his meddling, Yoongi is still your brotherâand no matter how annoyed you feel in the moment, thereâs comfort in knowing heâll always be there, grocery bags in hand, ready to pry into your life whether you like it or not.
Still, as you glance at the empty spot where Jimin had been sitting just minutes ago, you canât help but feel the shift in the airâthe quiet sense of something new blooming, fragile and undefined, but full of possibility.
Itâs New Yearâs Eve, and the world outside hums with the anticipation of fireworks and fleeting resolutions, but youâve chosen solitude. For once, youâve turned down your friendsâ lively invitations and decided against more time with familyâChristmas was enough. Tonight, itâs just you, the quiet of your home, and the comforting glow of your playlist.
Jiminâs voice drifts through the room, one of his songs filling the air like a soft embrace. You sway to the rhythm, your body moving without thought, the melody wrapping around you until it feels like a conversationâa secret shared between the two of you.
Then comes the knock, sharp and unexpected. It cuts through the moment like a thread snapping, and you pause the music, your feet hesitating as you move toward the door.
When you open it, your heart clenches at the sight before you. Hwa-Young stands there, her small frame trembling, her tiny face scrunched with worry. Her lower lip quivers, and her breath fogs in the cold air.
âDaddyâs crying,â she says, her voice cracking, a heartbreaking sniffle escaping her. âI donât know whatâs wrong.â
The ache in your chest tightens, but thereâs no time to think. Grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes, you pull her into a quick hug before locking the door behind you. The icy air bites at your skin as you walk her back to her house, your heart thundering in your chest.
Jiminâs crying? The thought pounds in your mind, relentless. The man who seems to hold everything together, even when the edges frayâwhat could make him cry? The worry claws at you as you follow Hwa-Young inside, her tiny hand gripping yours like a lifeline.
As soon as the door closes behind you, you hear itâsoft, raw, unguarded. The sound of Jimin crying seeps into the air, low and melodic in a way that only he could make heartbreak sound beautiful. But itâs a beauty that twists your stomach into knots.
Hwa-Young leads you toward his studio, her steps hesitant but trusting. And there he is, seated on the floor amidst a sea of scattered paper, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. A pen trembles in his hand, a few smudged lines of ink staining the page beneath it. Tears drip from his cheeks, dotting the paper like the punctuation of sorrow.
You step forward, slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wounded animal. Sitting down beside him on the floor, you glance back at Hwa-Young, who hovers in the doorway, her wide eyes fixed on her father.
âWhatâs wrong?â you ask softly, your voice a whisper meant to break through the fragile moment without shattering it. You want to reach out, to touch him, to offer some piece of comfort, but you hold back. This is his pain, his spaceâyou canât rush into it uninvited.
Jimin lifts his head slightly, sniffling as he swipes at his tear-streaked face with the back of his hand. âOh,â he breathes, his voice hoarse but still laced with that quiet magic that lingers even in his brokenness. âIâm just trying to write a song.â
His words catch you off guard, simple yet heavy, as if they carry more weight than heâs letting on. You glance down at the scattered papers and see fragments of lyricsâlines crossed out, others rewritten, the ink blurred where his tears have fallen.
Your chest tightens as you realize the depth of his struggle. Writing isnât just an act for himâitâs a pouring out of his soul, and tonight, it seems that soul is heavier than it can bear.
âJiminâŚâ you murmur, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a wish to ease the ache you see in him. He doesnât meet your gaze, his eyes fixed on the paper as if searching for answers in the empty spaces between the lines.
He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes still rimmed with a faint redness, and then looks past you to his daughter. âAh, did you get worried, Hwa-Young?â His voice is gentle, like a melody subdued by sadness, a softness meant only for her.
She nods, her small fists rubbing at her tear-streaked cheeks. âYeah,â she sniffs, her voice trembling. âI donât want to see daddy cry.â
Before you can react, she runs to him, her tiny arms flinging themselves around his neck with such force that he nearly topples backward. He catches her in his embrace, holding her tightly, like sheâs the anchor keeping him grounded. He presses a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering there as though drawing strength from her. âIâm okay,â he murmurs against her hair, his voice low but steady. âSometimes writing hurts a little. But itâs a good kind of pain.â
âBut Iâm good, I promise,â he says, pulling back just enough to cup her cheek. His thumb brushes away the lingering tears as his expression softens, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile. She studies him for a moment, her worried eyes searching his face for any cracks in the truth, but she seems to believe himâor at least want to.
âOkay,â she whispers, her shoulders relaxing.
You take her calming presence as your cue. Shifting slightly on the floor, you ask gently, âDo you want to talk about the lyrics?â
His lips press together, and you notice the way he chews on the inside of his bottom lip, hesitant. But after a moment, he nods, the vulnerability in his expression clear. âYeah, okay.â
Hwa-Young slides off his lap, still watching him protectively, and retreats to the couch with a little bounce, her legs swinging off the edge. She doesnât go farâclose enough to keep him in her line of sight but distant enough to give you space. You and Jimin remain seated on the floor, papers sprawled around you like autumn leaves scattered by a restless wind.
âAlright,â he says softly, picking up a page and smoothing out the creases with his fingertips. He pauses for a moment, gathering himself, and then reads aloud, his voice quieter now, almost reverent.Â
âEven if you try to make believable excuses again, even if you try to close your eyes and turn away, you know that itâs already broken, that it canât be reversed.â
His words hang in the air, heavy and unyielding, like the ache of something lost. You sit with them for a moment, letting their weight settle over you, your chest tightening at the raw beauty of his sorrow.
âDo you really think some things canât be reversed?â you ask finally, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid of breaking the spell.
He shrugs one shoulder, a small, almost self-deprecating smile ghosting across his lips. âI think... maybe some things can. But not everything. There are cracks too deep, things shattered too completely. Sometimes, you just... canât put it back together.â
His gaze shifts downward, his fingers toying with the edge of the paper, as though the lyrics themselves hold the answers heâs searching for. Thereâs a quiet sadness in his words, an acceptance of something unspoken, and you canât help but wonder what heâs alluding to.
You nod slowly, the truth of his words sinking in, even if you donât fully understand whatâs behind them. âYour lyrics...â you pause, searching for the right way to describe them, âtheyâre painfully beautiful. They feel like they come from somewhere deep.â
His eyes flicker back to you, and for a moment, you see a flash of gratitudeâor perhaps reliefâin his expression. âThanks,â he murmurs, the word simple but heartfelt. âItâs... complicated, you know?â
You glance at the chaotic scrawl on the page, the ink etched like unspoken confessions. âDo you have more?â you ask softly, your voice barely breaking the stillness.
Jiminâs gaze lowers, his lips parting as though the words might resist leaving him. But then, they pour out, raw and unguarded.Â
âWhen falling asleep, drunk,And being unable to remember anything,I thought about it, âwhat am I doing now?âWhy am I the only one like thisâno, everyone is like this.The me who pretends to be okay every time,I find him pathetic.âÂ
His voice wavers, each word heavy with the ghosts of emotions too painful to name.
The weight of his words hits you like a wave, swelling in your chest, rising to your throat. You feel your eyes sting, and you blink hard against the tears threatening to spill. Is that really how he feels? Or how he has felt? The thought aches, cutting deep into you.
âItâs not really how I feel right now,â he murmurs, but his voice cracks under the strain, a betrayal of the truth that lingers beneath. âBut these are feelings Iâve had before, and...â His voice falters, choked by the weight of what heâs carrying.
âItâs okay,â you whisper, your own voice thick with emotion. Without hesitation, you slide closer to him, wrapping him in a hug that feels both fragile and firm. Your hand finds his, trembling slightly, and you trace soft circles on his skin, hoping to ground him, to offer somethingâanythingâthat might soothe him.
At first, he doesnât move, his breath shuddering as if holding back. But then, he crumbles, his head falling against your shoulder as his tears come freely. The sound of his crying is quiet but heart-wrenching, and all you can do is hold him, cradling his pain as though it were your own.
After a moment, he pulls back slightly, his face still streaked with tears but his voice steadier now. âIâve written more,â he says, sliding another paper across the floor toward you. His fingers tremble as they release it.
You pick up the page, your eyes scanning the ink smudges that seem almost like tear stains. You take a breath and begin to read aloud, your voice catching as the words unravel before you.Â
âThe same day all over,goes by, yet again. How long should I endure through this? To be able to return...â
The words linger in the air, heavy and sharp as glass, and your voice falters, the ache in his handwriting so palpable it feels as if itâs cut into you too. You set the paper down carefully, as though itâs something precious and breakable, and look at him, your heart twisting.
âOh, Jimin,â you breathe, your voice barely audible. Itâs all you can say. Words feel too small for the depth of what youâre witnessing. You pull him into another hug, tighter this time, as if trying to physically piece him back together, though you know thatâs impossible.
His head rests against yours, and you hear his breath hitch, feel the faint tremor that still runs through him. In this moment, you realize that being here, holding him, is the only thing you can do. You canât rewrite his past, canât undo the pain that shaped these lyrics, but maybeâjust maybeâyour presence is enough to remind him that he doesnât have to carry it alone.
âThank you,â he says softly, his voice catching on the edges of his words as he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with lingering emotion. âSometimes writing can be... exhausting. Emotionally, mostly. Itâs like digging up the past, uncovering feelings I thought Iâd buried, things Iâve been trying to ignore. But turning them into musicâit helps. Itâs like breathing life into the pain, giving it purpose.â
You nod, feeling the weight of his confession settle into the quiet space between you. âI get that,â you murmur. âIâm just glad I can help, even if itâs only a little.â
His gaze softens, gratitude radiating from his tired but sincere expression. âThank you for listening,â he says, his voice almost a whisper before he leans forward to hug you. The embrace feels tender, fleeting, but carries a warmth that lingers even as he pulls away. He wipes a stray tear from his cheek with the back of his hand and pauses, his eyes scanning the scattered pages on the floor. âDo you think itâs any good?â he asks, gathering the papers with a careful, almost reverent touch.
You glance at the crumpled sheets in his hands, the raw emotion woven into each line. âI think itâs painfully good,â you say, the words heavy with sincerity. âIt moves you in a way that sticksâitâs the kind of raw honesty that people canât help but relate to.â
A faint smile tugs at his lips, bittersweet and beautiful. âSharing the pain... it makes it feel lighter somehow,â he admits, setting the papers down on the desk as though releasing a burden. The vulnerability in his voice tugs at something deep inside you, and when he turns back, sitting beside you, his presence feels closer than everâlike the warmth of sunlight just brushing your skin.
Youâre acutely aware of the space between you, or rather, the lack of it. The heat of his thigh grazing yours is magnetic, grounding and electrifying all at once. You turn your head, your gaze finding his profileâdelicate, yet so undeniably strong. Thereâs a quiet grace about him, a dainty elegance in the way he carries himself, even when baring his soul. His honesty, his unfiltered emotions, they pull at you like a tide, drawing you closer without permission.
You donât know what this isâthis invisible thread between you, taut and shimmering in the quiet. Is it just you? Are you the only one feeling this pull? Or does he feel it too, this gentle but unrelenting gravity between you? Is he always this open, this raw, with everyone? Or is this... something else?
The questions swirl in your mind, but you donât dare voice them. Instead, you sit there, your thoughts tangled, the warmth of him beside you keeping the world at bay, if only for this fleeting moment.
â Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex
â Series taglist: @13-manggaetteok @mima795 @hnnnjm @flaneuseonthestreets @miniesjams32 @graydolan12
â Authorâs endnote: okay, confession time: I might have totally ugly cried while writing this chapter, and⌠wow, it hit hard. Iâve poured a lot of myself into Jiminâs characterâlike, not exactly me, but in the way his lyrics carry that raw, emotional depth (which honestly feels like the whole of Bangtan, letâs be real đ). Anyway! I need to knowâwhat did you think of this chapter? And more importantly, what pain do you think Jimin is hiding? đ Spill your theories, because my brain is doing the little âevil laugh writerâ thing right now đ¤â¨
Š @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please donât copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story đĽ°
#jimin x reader#jimin fanfic#jimin fanfiction#bts jimin fanfic#jimin fic#jimin smut#park jimin x reader#bts jimin x reader#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#jimin x oc#pjm smut#pjm x you#pjm x reader#park jimin#park jimin fanfic#park jimin imagines#park jimin smut#bts smut#bangtan smut#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bangtan fanfic#bangtan x reader#bangtan fic
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Drinking wine rn and just thinking about art the clown like I love him sm you don't understand đŠđŠđŠ
*insert the clip of Murr from Impractical Jokers singing "blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol* iykykđđĽ˛
#I feel like Siennas mom fr fr đđđ#I miss him I legit haven't been in the same room as him for like nearly six years now I'm cryingggđĽ˛đĽ˛#he was at a con literally less than a hour from me but I wasn't able to go because I was in treatment for my spicy mental illnessâ˘ď¸#and I just cry thinking about it every timeđđ#art the clown#terrifier#terrifier 3#terrifier 2#david howard thornton
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some of my favorite moments of yato & yukine during my reread. i read the scanlations occasionally bc it gives me sm nostalgia. anw, the two of them are so cute... they're just like family :(
yato referring to yukine as his "boy" or "kid" always gets me man. i take a shot every time he says it đĽš
#GoodbyeNoragami#noragami#noragami reread#i cry every time i think about how they just want to protect each other#i sob every time i think about them in general#i love them so much omfg#the only consistent hyperfixation in my life đ#yato#yukine#mine
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Adventure time fans when you enjoyed the Fionna and Cake finale and don't want their miserable unnecessary nitpicky opinions on a silly happy cartoon ruining ur joy and love for the show:
#I can't stand ppl who shove their negative opinions on things you enjoy in ur face like oh my god#if you have a hater complex and cannot stop criticising every aspect of media just keep that to urself#you'd think there was something Wrong with the ending with the way ppl r talking abt it#but everyone ended up happy and everything was good#like u guys are just being annoying atp I don't want to hear it đđ#NOTE: THIS IS ME EXPLICITLY SAYING I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR NEGATIVE OPINIONS! SHUT UP! I DONT CARE THAT YOU DIDNT LIKE IT!#CRY ABOUT IT AND WHINE SOMEWHERE ELSE!#fionna and cake#adventure time#đ
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the way the ericson group were at the outbreak just a bunch of troubled kids who made various mistakes or committed crimes and were judged by a system that punished and abandoned them instead of giving them the support and love they needed, are then nearly a decade later put into a situation where now they must judge a troubled child for the mistakes and crimes hes committed against them. and 5 to 3 vote them out đ
#twdg#i love the way s4 connects back to lees whole 'murderer' thing back in s1 đ guilt...atonement.....systems of punishment#i love thinking about s1>s4 themes and crying#anyway this is partially why i hate when i see the ericson cast reduced down to 'just some teens' its so much more than that#them being abandoned in a boarding school for troubled kids is SO IMPORTANT its not 'just some school'#anyway its also probably why theyre my favorite cast#theyre literally one of if not the most mature group of the series even while being a bunch of kids who make choices i dont agree with#because they actually love and care about each other. even when theyre mad. because theyre all they have left#i do think the vote was a fair way to handle it even tho i still ultimately find it cruel. they couldve talked it out#but this is still a story that needs conflict to resolve so is what it is#they would rather they leave than have to face their confused feelings. the most immature thing they do. but understandable#they did such a good job crafting that cast for clem GOD an entire ensemble built around her and aj....delicious#zombie/post apoc media about love and community my beloved đ#sorry but get tf out of here with that 'humans are evil and everyone dies' lame ass bullshit we are nothing without community#the amount of love pouring out of s4 is like getting my ass kicked but then they give me a big hug and kiss after and send me on my way#s4 my absolute beloved i really love it more and more every time. so much to appreciate even with it the way it is#the themes bro the themes........ the connections between seasons 1 and 4 you are everything to me#it speaks
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if chibnall was the one writing this season you lot would be talking VERY differently
#anti rtd#oomfs ur so right#s14 is the kinda mid that people think his era was#and yet#you throw in that razzle dazzle written by rtd and all of a sudden there's no criticisms!#or worse somehow#is how its a polite and gentle reframing of chibs criticism#like with him it was hey he ate this singular one thing But I KNOW CHIBS IS BAD HE'S TERRIBLE DONT WORRY I KNOW IT#and with rtd its oh i disliked this nonsensical and objectively bad writing but ummm guys i lOVED LOVED everything else i swear#its soooooooooooooOOOOOOOOO#it must be studied#but i knew yous were a lost cause when we had 14/15 running around calling men hot bc yes totally something the doctor just does#not ooc at allllll#bc this is how we know the doctor is queer now guys#dont you know it#i have like a million other complaints i miss being like oh hey that was mid/bad and moved on with my life đđ#god i think 13 era killed me bc now i do care about u hypocritical losers#rip 15ruby i wish i cared and that you had any development#ncuti millie i would like to hang out with you though#15 maybe you'll cry less next season so that the emotional scenes have impact perhaps đđžđđž#ramblings of an insomniac#god i just remembered the whole real mum antics#fuck i need to go i gotta go!!!!#ps the ncuti conundrum where he's the most charismatic dr in nuwho whilst also being the worst actor is driving me nuts#idk if its the characterisation or his lack of ability in creating that inner psychology that connective tissue between his louder acting#which he's great at btw!#idk maybe that one monologue in boom made me go yes okay here we goooo#but then every other moment has been like hmmmnnnmtgodhd okay whateve#i think he needed more acting prep before he got this role bc he's got Something he could be Great but the subtle stuff is lacking#sooo hoping he can grow into that but it's giving perfect actor wrong time.... and if ur white ur not allowed to agree with me shush go away
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Lol
#theres nothing quite like your mother saying Well maybe you shouldve been more careful because now your boss might think youve been flirting#with this male coworker (whom i like splendidly as a friend) and now maybe she thinks youre not trustworthy#and maybe she regrets hiring you because you said you feel like youre making a lot of mistakes this week and she might assume thats because#your head is filled with this boy.#so dont make her regret hiring you.#MA'AM I TOLD YOU I WAS ALREADY ANXIOUS BECAUSE I MADE SO MANY MISTAKES TODAY WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME ASHAMED#OF SOMETHING THAT I HONESTLY HAD NO CLUE I OUGHT TO BE ANXIOUS ABOUT AT MY FIRST NEW JOB AFTER IVE GRADUATED????#anyway going to bed i cant take this anymore LOL she said it so lightly and im like. well i never even considered#being afraid of making my boss regret hiring me somehow because of some kind of behaviour that i had no idea was sending some kind of signal#anywaysssss đđđđđđđ#and then she was like why are you crying?? đđđđđđđđ#not to be like this is partly why i didnt want to move home but confound it all why are things like this#can i not simply confide in my mother my anxieties and worriws#worries#and not also have to worry about her potentially being like Well have you considered you ARE right and it IS your fault?#idk man something something firstborn child eldest daughter can i have some room to breathe. please#also not to whine but Not my father walking in on me eating dinner at 10pm because i was holed up#in my room in a semi depressive state after so many gong shows in a work day and straight up having no appetite#but deciding my body needs the food anyway its better late than never.....walking in and then saying#you know if you eat this late you'll gain weight. SIR??????????????????#sorry to complain and rant again i simply cannot in this house and whats more am doing my best to honour my parents#but why is it so hard out here and how can they say stuff like that with a smile!!!!!!!#also i DO have an inner critic who is always like Its your fault you are the worst you should be ashamed always........why do my parents#not understand after knowing me for so long and watching me grow up#that i can make myself so ashamed of the smallest thing so easily and that what they say drives me to shame almost as easily?#ANYWAY LOL WHAT A DAY#you guys!!! i am working so hard i promise i PROMISE I am!!! it is my first full time job ever and i am working so so hard#i am doing my absolute best and no one sees it and that is FINE i just wish my parents would see that i AM trying!!#i come back home so dead every single day because i put in 120%! this is literally my first job after graduation#and my parents KNOW this has been the most exhausting taxing and soul crushing year ive had in my very short life so far
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depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed
#and wdym that lifestyle changed so quickly into being out and about and an active member of the world??#very proud of myself#and i mean it wasn't that quick of a change#it was like 1.5 years primarily depression bedrotting with occasional school -> primarily depression bedrotting ->#primarily depression bedrotting with 3-9 hours of work weekly -> straight into 31+ hours school+9-12 hours work weekly#so there was somewhat of a gradual progression#but still#also wowza i wake up 7-7:30am every morning now. 1pm was an early wake up for a not so insignificant amount of time#i mean of all fundamental growth years to miss out on the ages like what 12/13-15 aren't too bad? they would suck in a different way if i#had been socially involved#anyway it's just. yea i'm proud of myself but it is a crazy lifestyle change#and even when i was deeply depressed in a horrible routine i feel like i learned a lot. how to regulate my emotions and cope well and find#the joy in everything. bc if i stayed in bed all day then i would at least be happy about the sun or whatever#and for the while of being not at school at all i WANTED to be at school i just could not find one bc our school system is so cute like tha#(basically every school is at capacity and the local school that has a guaranteed place for me would have been an all boys or girls đ)#but i miraculously found and got into this school and miraculously made it work so well for me socially and now academically#it's also a good time to get back into school for my education bc any later and it woulda been pretty bad for all my certifications and uni#ive missed out on so much maths that its not worth it to me to try and catch up but my teacher knows that#but ive always hated maths regardless i only ever understood it for the first half of yr 7 then my attendance dropped#and after my recent exam i decided to try harder at school. but i still got an A on the exam i didn't study for!! academic weapon fr#i'm just idk thinking back to myself in the past few years#and how hopeless it all felt. but i got out of it!! i beat the depression and social anxiety and found a good place and made the most of it#and during the peak of my depression i remember i went out someplace near my old school and panicked so so badly about seeing#kids from my old school. and the friends at the time didnt really check on me when i went to shake and cry in a side street lmao#i kept the best of that friendgroup and have better friends now. but anyway now i take a bus each morning with some kids from my old school#and you see these hands? they look like they're shaking to you?#anyway yeah it's just cool i got to this point :) i really had no hope for so long but now i have a life i'm living and a future i'm build#--ing towards#which is funny i just decided some random day last november after watching some better call saul 'huh actually lawyer would b pretty cool'#and will i get there? we'll see but i do have hope now
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CONGRATS TO EKKY I HAVE NEVER BEEN INVITED TO SASHA'S HOUSE IN NTH YEARS BIT FOR GETTING A NEW ADDITION TO THE COMPILATION IN THE 2425 SEASON
#CRYING THAT LUNDY HAS GOTTEN INVOLVED NOW#âi think he really wants to go to his houseâ IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY LUNDY#PLEASE LUNDY WORK YOUR POWERS AND GET THAT MAN IN THERE#SMUGGLE HIM IN#âeven guys that have been playing with him for YEARS- (ask me about how sasha is like at home)â âekblad said hes never been to his houseâ#JAMESON YOU WERE TOO QUICK WITH THAT#we all had ekky in mind and im glad jameson said#CRYING#EKKY YOURE WHINNING WILL EVENTUALLY GET YOU SOMEWHERE KEEP GOING#anyways as funny as this bit is it does make my heart melt that BOTH ekky and lundy then proceed to respect sashas privacy#ekky who says its a joke and thats just how barky is and he doesnt take it to heart#lundy who always dodges questions about their roommate situation (hes been asked a lot)#and doesnt mention anything to respect sashas privacy and just saying hes just sasha and never reveals more than that#the full answer just made my heart melt because he skirts it so well like every other time#i know finnish media asked him about sasha during the global series and he also avoided them then#theyre both very respectful about it đđđ#anyways lmao ekky eventually you might get the keys to the city (sasha house) but youll have to wait a bit longer lol
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Saw some of the grossest parenting today in the bus
#this dad was on his phone the whole bus ride ok#and his two kids were screaming arguing#at most he would periodically tell them to lower their voice while still on his phone#one time he told them to stop the one sitting next to him hit him đ and he went back to look at his phone with no reaction#my guy something is seriously wrong with you#your kids are screaming at each other doesn't even matter all that much that we are in the bus rn#theyre not just being loud kids you need to do smt!!!!!! its too early for this!!! i could hear them even with my noise cancelling headphone#anyways#ive never seen smt like this#and i work in a mall i see lots of parents and kids#idk smt really disgusting about a parent just not even interested in engaging with their kids#dude no wonder they're loud they probably want ur attention#also this one lady once who came in wjth a big stroller#and the store where i work has little moving rooms between the aisle so this woman decided TO LEAVE THE STROLLER WITH A KID INSIDE AT THE#FRONT OF THE STORE#the kids started crying and his hrother (toddler not in the stroller but not following the mom for some reason) started exploring and i#i had to watch them until the mom came back but like the woman just left them there???#i just stepped in but what if i hadnt??? lady?????????#i see lots of cute interactions of course#like this little girl who came with who i think is her grandpa and he asked me to help her chose her next manga read đđ#i basically work in a book/toy store#theres a lot of candy as well the kids love it#idk i like seeing kids being happy ok it is healing#like all the kids sitting on the floors deep in their books while the parents shop đđđ makes me smile every time top tier behavior
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One thing that has deeply annoyed me about the response from Americans/Westerners about this week's events in Korea is that a lot of them, including people I like and respect, are like, "The protesting civilians and lawmakers who barged into the National Assembly would've been shot if this were the U.S./this would've never happened in the U.S. because people are too afraid of being shot." There's some truth to that, at least with regard to state violence, but I'm fed up because it doesn't account for how frightening this could have turned out to be had it not been for how much of an inept flop dunce Yoon Sukyeol is. It minimizes the courage of those who showed up.
Sure, it was likely that the military and riot police wouldn't have done much (again, YSY's self-coup wasn't thought out well, and there's more evidence of that as military officials and soldiers are speaking up about the lack of information they received, but I'll refrain from talking about that to avoid making this even longer than it inevitably will be, knowing myself), but let's not pretend there haven't been issues with them in recent years. They pepper sprayed and used water cannons during an anniversary rally for the Sewol ferry victims (x) (x) (if you don't understand how unbelievably cruel that is, look into the horrific Sewol ferry sinking). They tear gassed crowds (Korea has a gruesome history of this) and sprayed water cannons, and citizens have been injured and killed during the 2015 protests and 2016-17 Park Geunhye impeachment protests, notably Baek Namgi, an elderly activist whose death caused global outrage (x) (x). Park Geunhye was going to enforce martial law during those protests according to a leaked document, with hundreds of tanks, thousands of soldiers and special force troops! (x)
Not to mention, there are decades of extreme state violence that have scarred an entire country and are still super fresh for a huge percentage of the population. Again, check out that tear gas history piece. Look up the April Revolution, Gwangju massacre, and June uprising and see just how bloody they were. Thousands of civilians were tortured and killed. Look at how many protests were going on year after year during the 1980s. That isn't that long ago! All those older people who ran to the National Assembly to stop the coup? You bet a lot of them were college students who protested during that time or knew people who did. All the younger people? They may not have experienced what it was like living under martial law, but as I said, state violence still occurs, however much it's dwindled over the years, and you have to account for generational trauma. I don't think I'll ever forget the way I felt when I saw the breaking news alert about the martial law declaration on December 3. I've never experienced that, at least to that degree.
Instead of viewing the response from civilians and elected officials through the framework of police brutality in the U.S., it should be contextualized using Korea's own history. Thankfully most of the serious discussions are doing this, but like I said, even people who are smart about reading up on things have reflected on how this wouldn't fly in the U.S., not because of the difference in protest history, civil movements, and public engagement with both in the two countries but because of the military/police response. There's an insinuation there that Koreans would be more reluctant to do what they did if they knew what it's like to live in fear of violence instead of living in such a safe country like Korea...and I want to yell.
It was monumentally brave of everyone to do what they did to stop the coup. We're all laughing at how stupid the coup was and there's a reason why people were more furious than scared because of the political history of Korea and the laws set in place to protect the democracy and neutralize coup attempts, but this could have easily become a disaster. It's not alarmist of me to say so because there was no way for anyone to be 100% sure of how the military would reactâespecially when no one knew what the hell was going on.
#i am...not vibing with these posts about how people are like 'omg those poor soldiers/good on them for dragging their feet'#yes mandatory military service means being there against your will#and i DO believe a lot of soldiers probably were super shaken or confused by what was going on#especially with the news coming out that soldiers weren't aware of what their mission was#to find out your orders and see your people look at you with rage disgust and maybe even fear especially as a young person...#i get that it's upsetting and you can tell that a lot of them didn't want to be there!#but lol are we forgetting there are people who weren't conscripts involved?#are we forgetting that people will follow directions if it's drilled into them to do say especially with the threat of retaliation?#are we forgetting that mandatory military service goes back decades#and amazingly soldiers and police still committed atrocities against civilians during previous protests or what?#idk i think it's your moral duty to engage in weaponized incompetence malicious compliance insubordination etc.#when you're asked to do something evil so i don't really want to praise people for being decent#even if i'm glad they did and i'm relieved they did it you know? but that's just me#omg sorry i'm ranting. ANYWAY! history in every single country has shown#how easy it can be for things to go south rapidly so while there were things that made the coup expire as quickly as it did#and it's HILARIOUS and i'm enjoying myself...it could have turned out very different#just a few wrong turnsâjust ONE wrong turnâand it could have been bad#rules and orders are good and all but if someone wants to commit violence they will do it#i'm just relieved i didn't have time to worry myself sick over this before it was all over lmao#so i can just feel a lot of pride and admiration for everyone doing their best to exercise and protect their rights#and do it with great panache and fun. the protests are like concerts! the protest songs are so funny#the signs!!!!! i'm dying over them. the number of people paying for food and drinks for the protestors#enough that businesses in the protest areas had to stop taking prepaid orders!#the older people who said they have to get to the front that night to protect all the young protestors with their bodies#in case the military tries to attack civilians! đ that part made me almost cry#the ajusshi who (drunkenly?) shouted how much he loved all his friends who came out to protest like the old days#democracy is fragile and we have to protect it#and i think korea right now is a shining beacon of the power of the people
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I say that you donât need to know the Taylor lore to appreciate her music and I MEAN it and yet Iâm not sure Taylor saying ânow Iâm down bad crying at the gymâ hits quite as hard if you didnât spend all of 2014 watching her coming out of gyms in NYC wearing her perfect little model âfits with her short 1989 bob perfectly coiffed only to learn later all the heartbreak happening behind the scenes then TOO.
#like. there are many planes on which to listen to a Taylor song#and the directly personal isnât even always the most frequent#but one of the joys of a first album listenâamidst all the painâis to suddenly get an inside picture of what was ACTUALLY going on#and the way the eras tour prep / personal fall out behind the scenes SLOTTED into place#when I first heard down bad#LIKe. Iâm SO SORRY BUT SHE WAS PROBABLY LITERALLY DOWN BAD CRYING AT THE GYM AS SHE WORKED OUT FOR HER MASSIVELY SUCCESSFUL GLOBE-DOMINATIN#WORLD TOUR#it extends beyond that but the snapshot is SO. REAL.#the Ann Powers review captures this so well#it is Taylor directly filling us in because what she does to cope is Write Stuff Down#every time Taylor writes about someone around her being high? she just wrote that shit down#(sorry for saying shit)#and yet it isnât just direct transcription#it is the selection of the right details#to make it transcend that#idk. itâs what I think anyway đ maybe Iâm wrong but đđđđđ#what a way to die (guilty as sin do not interact at this exact moment in time)
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grrrr why did people ever stop wearing mid-renaissance clothes
#yes I am mad bc I wanna go to fetes galantes with a friend in a few years#which will mean having to make a baroque gown and I just think Baroque dresses are so ugly đ#give me back my beautiful renaissance shapes please!!! I am crying I am shaking etc#and by renaissance I do not mean whatever rigid monstrocities the british had going on during the tudor and elisabethan era#I mean my beautiful German/Dutch renaissance soft shapes#with just absolute madness in the sleeves and in the details#like at least rococo is a little fun bc panniers but baroque? I want to throw myself off a cliff.#'Early 16th century is when Central European fashion peaked and honestly we should've just kept that' remains the hill I will die on#like it's so fun and so stupid. you want a big silly hat? have a big silly hat! you want the poofiest sleeves to ever poof? go for it!#You want an ornamented fake bulge that is very dick shaped that has a little pocket in it for treats to give to the ladies#(top 10 flirting tips they don't tell you about! Works every time!!!)? Boy do I have the accessory for you!#but no we must have weird flowy shapes and then not even commit to that also lets all wear the worst hairstyle anyone has#ever conceived of. that's a good idea!#just completely lost literally what were people on about back then? A fucking disgrace I'm telling you!
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sure would be nice. if people could debunk a dumb exaggerated/incorrect fanon without people immediately turning it 180° and happily hauling ass right into another dumb exaggerated/incorrect fanon. while gleefully crowing about how canon and correct this opposite take is.
sure would be nice đ
#tw salt#tw negativity#venting#I'm crying the reactionary takes are just as bad đđđ#to be clear people can do whatever they want in fandom#we are here ultimately to play with Barbie dolls in whatever way makes our brain go brrrrrrrr#and that is not going to look the same for everyone and we just gotta deal with that#what drives me BONKERS is when people confidently assert their sometimes Extremely Fanon takes as Canon#when every word they type is blaring through a megaphone âI don't know what I'm talking about! :Dâ#âNo I haven't read the relevant comics! :Dâ#âEverything I think I know I learned from sad woobie fanfic and batfam tiktok and out of context panels from different continuities! :D"#âI am 200% confident in this info and will spread it around as a Subject Matter Expert! :Dâ#I'll happily run across some funny post with more canon-based characterizations and relationships#and browse through the reblogs only to be slugged in the face by âfunny! but AK-SHULLY canon would be that [COMPLETELY INCORRECT FANON] đ¤â#let me have PEACE#going back and deleting a bunch of tag snark about specific examples before hitting post#actually I'll leave just one because it's what set me off#âDick was a hostile resentful asshole to Jason as Robin and they had a terrible relationship before Jason died!â#versus#âDick and Robin!Jay were sooooo brothers! just the brothers of all time & the model all later batsibling relationships were based on! <333â#*me taking 4d10 psychic damage from both attacks*#Cam posts
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dude my mom doesn't even let me identify as a pacifist without debating me on it how tf am I supposed to come out as queer lol
#i'm posting this on here because this is where I have the least amount of irls following me LOL#and the irls I have on here are the sweetest sjdjjdjd đđ#but I need to vent like what do you MEAN I SHOULDN'T SAY I'M A PACIFIST BECAUSE âWHAT IF YOU HAD NO OTHER CHOICE THAN TO HOLD A WEAPONâ#LIKE#I feel like this goes under the same argument as âwould you still refuse to eat if you were a vegan#and you've been STARVING for a month and the ONLY THING TO EAT WAS A STEAK??? WOULD YOU EAT IT THEN???â#like istg mother#if I somehow was in a life-or-death position where my only way of self defense or way to defend my loved ones#was to use a gun then I think I'd abandon a lot of the other morals and standards I have set for myself already eye-#AS LONG AS I HAVE THE CHOICE#I WOULD NEVER HOLD A REAL GUN OR FIREARM ???#I think wars and weapons and militairy are stupid af and think world leaders who use that sht are cowards and should learn how to use WORDS#which I KNOW is highly ironic considering what company I work for and don't think I don't cringe and feel bad every single time I remember#and I KNOW Sweden is one of the countries that produce the most weaponry etc in the world and I HATE IT#but alas#i do need a job#and I also can barely afford an apartment of my own much less move to another fkn COUNTRY#BUT WHAT DO YOU MEAN âNAH I DON'T THINK YOU'RE A PACIFIST?â đđđ BRO I NEARLY CRY JUST THINKING ABOUT MANDATORY MILITARY SERVICE#AND I NEVER EVEN HAD TO TRY OUT BCS I HAD THE OPTION TO JUST SAY âno thanksâ ?!?!?!?#WHAT DO YOU MEAN
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