#i'm not satisfied with this but also i spent a lot of time on it so
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bokseungahri · 15 days ago
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MINHO / ATE Stages
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solaestial · 5 months ago
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I'm glad you're evil too - Pinocchio-P
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mildcicada · 5 months ago
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In the past when my art was even a few weeks-months old I used to no longer identify with that art/liked what it looked like/was a completely different person about that art. But like now, all my art is so me like all the time and I can look at stuff I made months-years ago and be like yeah That's Me. Like even if I was a different me back then I still adore all of it. I don't mean this in a narcissistic way or anything but I love all the art I make/have made and think its all genuinely so good. Even when there are obvious technical flaws I can see in past art like ?? ITS STILL AMAZING. I think everyone should be like this about their art wdym you think your old art is bad? I can view my soul in it. This change may be due to the fact that I draw less often compared to when I was younger and drew like every day, or may be due to the fact that I haven't changed "fandoms" in a while, or maybe its due to the fact that now that I am older as an individual my personality, interests, etc. are more established ??? IDK but even when I was a different me and in a different era I can emphathize with my old art just as much/honestly appreciate it way more than I did back then. Like i don't know how to put it into words for why this is the case but its all SO GOOD. Like it's actually amazing, even if I don't agree with the way I portrayed or designed a character or something or whatever. The technical aspects of how bad the anatomy or poses or whatever tf are the least of my worries as well tbh, they don't affect how I view the drawings at all anymore. Like all the stuff I made and the stuff I continue to make is all ...SOOO GOOD. Like I look at anything I have made in the past, or now, and I'm so genuinely happy with it regardless of result now. My thoughts back then about my favorite characters etc. and stuff were all so amazing I'm amazing. Even the smallest objectively most terrible sketches I have made are all so good. I can feel the energy flowing between me and it. The emotions between past and present me. I feel that the increased confidence and happiness in other aspects of my life especially in regards to how I view myself/appreciate myself and allow myself to actually exist in the world and do whatever tf I want are the likely cause of this feeling and appreciation for my art. The rest of my life before this was likely just a result of a lack of self-love and having an overall self-deprecating attitude. But it feels like its such the norm to not ever be happy with your work or to talk about it in anything other than a humble at best to self-hating at worst way. Or maybe this is just my POV from the artist circles I view. But like you can be completely fulfilled and overjoyed and happy with your current work and still "improve" in technical ways (This is the least important aspect of art though imo) etc. like appreciation and happiness =/= stagnation and arrogance. WHATEVAR.
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icewindandboringhorror · 2 months ago
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Various recent pictures of things
#or.. recent ISH.. this was still a few months ago lol#photo diary#EEEee... it's like over 45 minutes away from where I live but I finally found an arcade to go to that's not like entirely in the city and#is less busy. I went like the second they opened at 11:55am on a tuesday while school was still in. So there was basically no other people#there aside from like 5 staff. + wearing high quality KN95 mask and limiting my time there to under 1hr..#Also this was before the current summer covid surge happening since June in the US. so... I got to do One Single safe activity for once lol#skee ball my beloved.....#I actually don't like a lot of arcade games so I basically just spent 70% of the time doing skeeball ghjbjh#But I did weirdly like that pearl themed machine.. even though its one of those foolish games where you just drop items#and hope that they build up enough to let coins fall. like very boring not skill based or etc. But the Aesthetics of it.. I was drawn#to.. I wanted to crack the glass open and harvest the smooth white orbs from inside.. it would have been even cooler if they were#actually pearlescent in some way. but the round bubbly design and the blue and white water and shell theme entranced me#I love air hockey also but this machine was really flat and weird. like not enough air was pumping and the puck was very cheap and flimsy#An afterschool daycare place I went to once as a child had an air hockey machine that they would allow kids limited use to sometimes#and the air was always BLASTING up from the table so much that you could lay on it and it was like being hit by a slight breeze. and the#puck was very hefty and more of a satisfying clunk when you shot it around. I mastered skee ball with two arms#where I would load up a game on two machines right next to each other and throw one ball with my left hand to the left machine and one#with my right to the other and still got an okay ish score on both lol. But I do forget arcades can be very sensory overwhelming like#bright lights and noises and stuff.. walking past every blinking machine chirping at me like SHUT UP I'm trying to get to SKEE BALL#leave me ALONNEE. ghjhb... ANYWAY.. other stuff.. some images of clouds as usual.. a quaint little breakfaste#of eggs. pickled onions. grapes strawberries. and some turkey bacon. Also ofcourse Cat In Weird Position image.#he's always sitting with his legs stretched out funny#I kind of hate arcades on principle since much is a waste of money and time and many games are rigged (especially claw games) where#theres like some Illusion of Skill but so much of it is just random. I simply do not have the patience for that sort of thing. And usually#all the stuff you can win is bad anyway. BUT I also love active games.. if there was a place where I could JUST play skee ball. ddr.#air hockey. and like games where you have to aim at stuff (shooting games. wack a mole. etc.) then I would go there instead.#Active Games Only arcade. It bothers me sometimes to have to walk past all the scammy games to get to the decent ones lol..#Begone.. Out of my site at once... wretched claw machines.. and those things where you try and stop a light or whatever
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smallblueandloud · 2 years ago
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being home is showing me... just how much free time i don't have normally. like. dear god, i really spend SO MANY waking minutes working, don't i?
it's not necessarily a bad thing -- it has a fixed ending point, first off, which is great. but also i'm not at the point of burnout where i'm craving every free moment i can get and despising every moment i have to do something. which is... good?
but it's also just... such a relief to see what it's like outside my bubble. to be reminded that like, yes, this has a fixed ending point, and crucially when it DOES end, it'll be GOOD. it'll be BETTER. i'll have time to do jigsaw puzzles and clean my kitchen and maybe even rewatch my favorite tv shows! there will be time to exhale.
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adore-gregor · 5 months ago
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my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni
#in school i just did the bare minimum a pass was fine and a 3 great#it's insane to think about it how little i did like for a lot of subjects not at all and if i did i'd study like 2 hrs the day before 😭#and i thought this was studying hard or if i studied 3 hrs at least whaaat#well for some subjects i did a bit more#but like it is no comparrison#at uni i also did study the day before a few times but then i did an 8hr session#(i might just need to do that tmrw but the thing is the exam is one you can't study for so literary idk what i'd study so long for??)#(or how to study... it's translation but how tf do you study translation it's highly subjective and there are no practice exercises)#(i will probably just look at the notes)#but anyway for my last exam i spent 5 hrs in the library a day and i already started 2 weeks before (altough just in smaller bits)#but bumped it up exam week i did like 2-3hrs on average a day#even if i start too late like i did for one of the hardest test of my studies i only studied for 2 days but like all day or 10hrs sth a day#it by far exceeds the 2hrs lmao and even that was very little for this exam many studied 2 weeks but like i got a good grade so it's okay#but my point is now that i get better grades good one's a C is a massive disappointment for me 😅#unless it was a really difficult one then i'd take it but like it upsets me#a teacher once told me when i got a c on an exam quite a few failed that many would be happy to have that grade well true tbh but i can't#and once i almost cried because i got a C because i thought it was an easy course but it was an oral exam and i'm worse in these#(because in written i often remember the answer later in the exam and then go back but in oral i can't do that)#well that was embarrassing😭 i'm trying to never do that again so if i get asked how i feel abt it say it's okay ig#but sometimes even a B is meh 😅 especially if an A was possible and it was an easy course/exam#i want more A's less B's tbh B's also because i really want to go abroad and raise my grade average for that#i want to go from a B average to an A something average to improve my chances#but yeah younger me wouldn't believe this 😂#i really want to study harder to make that step up to more A's than B's like uni does come quite easy to me#and while i study way more compared to others i still get away with less effort and good results but i could have excellent grades#on the one hand it's good that i improved so much on the other those expectations might not be because i'm almost never satisfied anymore 😅#and i know it's kind of really unimportant because there are real problems and also many uni students struggle to pass their classes#it's maybe even a bit disrespectful because they'd be happy to have these grades and i should be more grateful#but i swear i don't look down on anyone with worse grades i know how difficult it can be and also how outside factors play a role#some have it more difficult some have to work a lot next to uni or really suffer from mental illness besides no one's brain is the same
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hedgehog-moss · 6 months ago
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The lower rung of the ladder in my kitchen broke last month and I stuck a little Post-it note on the wall to remind myself to step over the missing rung so I wouldn't break my leg every time I go up or downstairs—but then my mum came to visit and she saw me hopping over the gap in the ladder with practised ease and her face was the definition of "you live like this?" And she went to get a screwdriver to unscrew the ladder from the wall so we could carry it outside and repair it.
Some people see a broken ladder and immediately open a toolbox to fix the problem; some people see a broken ladder and stick a Post-it note to the wall to train themselves to step over the problem forever. (I admit my response is inferior.)
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I think I felt daunted at the thought of tinkering with this ladder because it's been here in the same place for over a century and I pictured the whole thing crumbling into dust if we tried to move it—but no, it's still solid, except the lower rung. Which wasn't damaged by time, but by Pandolf. (And some insects. But mostly Pandolf.)
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When he was a baby, for a week or so after I took him home, he was extremely upset about having to spend the night in his dog bed in the kitchen while I went upstairs to my bedroom, he would cry and cry and one night in a fit of despair and rage he attacked the ladder. The next morning I found the lower rung (the only one he could reach) looking like it had been attacked by a termite colony, but it was Pandolf's pointy little puppy teeth. By the look of it he'd spent half the night furiously gnawing on it until he dropped from exhaustion—his reasoning was clearly that if he destroyed the ladder, I wouldn't be able to go upstairs anymore and would be forced to spend the night on the floor of the kitchen with him.
It's really hard to be mad at baby Pandolf, though. Go on, try.
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Eventually he got used to sleeping in his dog bed and he abandoned his ladder destruction project, but the lower rung has been fragile ever since, and it finally broke last month.
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My mum is extremely efficient; she sent me to the barn to find some kind of thick board (you can find anything in the barn if you have a torch and aren't afraid of bats or century-old spiderwebs) and when I came back she had prepared all the tools and taken all the measurements.
The worst part was tapering the sides so the rung would fit in the notches, because if one side was a little bit thinner than the other then it was wobbly—
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—plus I used a file at first and it took forever (Pandolf was so bored), but then I remembered I own a sanding machine and it went a lot faster. So much so that my mum said I should make a second rung while I was at it—she was motivated to replace all of them, but then it started raining and we decided the rest of the ladder is solid enough and we'll replace the rungs two at a time.
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I always forget that it feels satisfying to fix things! There's this little spark of pride from then on when you look at the repaired thing because you helped make it. I tend to procrastinate because I assume it'll take ages or I'm worried I'll do it wrong, until someone who's more confident with their hands than me goes like "no come on, we just need a saw, a file, a hammer, it'll take an hour tops" and we do it and it's never as difficult as I feared. (My mum: "We gave you a toy toolbox when you were little, to smash sexist stereotypes, and you're afraid of fixing things :( ...") (I cheered her up by reminding her that my brother smashes sexist stereotypes by being also afraid of fixing things.)
But yeah I spent half an hour sanding down the sides of these two lower rungs and now I look at my ladder and remember the delightful feeling of getting the tapering just right and inserting them into their slots effortlessly like a VHS tape into a VCR. I have a whole new affection for my kitchen ladder now.
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scarletcomalies · 2 months ago
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Wanda has been your best friend for almost ten years now, meaning you could trust her to chat about anything, without restricting yourself by prudeness or filters. But that trust went too far one day.
Word count: 1,119
Warnings: 18+ content, guided masturbation through phone call, kind of innocent and inexperienced reader.
A/N: I promise I'm NOT procrastinating this story, you'll have it sooner than you think, but, well, college... 💔
It was a big step, considering that you failed to enjoy every time you explored yourself with your fingers alone. As much as you tried to play music, lie down, and imagine exciting scenes, you ended up frustrated because it wasn't enough. So you opted to buy a little help. Maybe this way you would be able to explore your tastes and to please yourself properly.
Your best friend, Wanda, had recommended an online site. It had all kinds of artefacts, many of which you didn't know existed, or considered too potent a level for a newbie like you. So you went with the safest option; a simple ten centimeter vibrator, with three levels of intensity.
And nothing...
You felt the tingle of the vibration inside you, but nothing built up. It was just a pleasurable sensation that led to nothing.
You had sent a message to Wanda, telling her that you had already received it, and just when you turned off the toy and put it aside, your phone notified a message from the redhead, where she asked you to tell her about your experience.
"It's useless, Wanda!" You answered, such a simple message but all your frustration could be transmitted in this one.
"What do you mean it's useless?" She replied.
"Maybe I'm anorgasmic or something, because I can't finish. I didn't feel it helped me."
You were perplexed when your phone screen displayed her name, indicating that you were receiving a call. This was unusual of her, but you didn't hesitate to answer.
"Honey," she let out a giggle, as soon as you picked up. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Well, when I feel needy, no matter how much I stimulate myself, I don't orgasm. Not even with the toy. It's horrible," you answered honestly.
These kind of talks were frequent between you, and that was something you loved about your friendship. No judgments, no prejudice, much less in the face of topics that, at the end of the day, were completely normal.
"Yeah, but what did you do with the vibrator?" She inquired.
"Well, I put it inside, the usual," you replied matter-of-factly. You didn't understand why other girls did get to feel something when they had something in there, and you didn't. Why you were more complex about everything?
"Just like that?" She exclaimed, and at your confirmation, she let out another laugh. "No, darling, you have to tease yourself, make yourself desperate for your own touch."
"And how do I even do that?" you asked curiously, but also with a hint of relief. She seemed to have the solution to your problem.
"It's complicated, do you want to try it now? I'll guide you through every step," she proposed.
The thought of hearing her voice guiding you, that she would be listening to you as you pleasured yourself, made the anticipation take over, again initiating that feeling that was begging to be satisfied.
When you thought of Wanda, or when you spent many hours together with her, that feeling came no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. It was no surprise when you realized that this was not something usual and that you definitely felt attraction towards her.
But you didn't want to ruin the friendship you treasured so much.
"No, that would be weird," you replied, feigning aversion to such a thing, when really, that was all you needed.
"Oh, come on!" Wanda exclaimed. "It wouldn't. I'd be helping you get to know yourself, please yourself. I won't even see you."
You sighed softly in resignation. She was right, maybe a lot of friends have given each other advice like that.
"Okay, fine," you agreed. "What do I do?"
Wanda was glad you couldn't see her smile of victory when you agreed, or else, she would've also given herself away.
"First, spread your legs, and place the tip of the vibrator on your clit," she instructed you.
You did as she asked, and no sooner had you pressed, when you felt an electric current run through your body in a matter of a fraction of a second.
"Oh, shit!" You exclaimed, withdrawing it as if by reflex.
"What do you feel?" She inquired curiously. She was aware such a cute little thing like you wouldn't be able to take it first time. But that was what she was there for.
"Weird, like a swift current!"
"Exactly! Please try to place it again, and little by little, apply pressure," she replied. "At your pace, there is no rush, darling," she purred, making your core throb in desperation at her raspy voice calling you that pet name.
Again, you did as she asked.
The intense vibration made all the nerve endings in that area react deliciously to the stimulus, and again, it sent that current through your body.
You let out a little murmur of pleasure, feeling yourself lose control over your body. Your back arched, your eyes closed, and your free hand fisted your sheets in an attempt to keep you grounded and resistant.
"Good girl, apply more pressure for me," Wanda added, noting from your murmurs that you were becoming familiar with the sensation.
Applying a little more pressure caused you to emanate your first moan since forever. That snapped you out of your trance briefly, and you realized you moaned with your friend on the other end of the phone.
"I'm sorry," you apologized, beginning to feel your cheeks heat up.
"None of that," she countered. "Don't hold back, let me hear you."
In a matter of minutes, you alone learned to listen to your body. You explored different areas and found your most sensitive spots. You were so focused on not leaving a single inch untouched, that you even forgot that Wanda was listening to the mess of moans, whimpers, and murmurs of her name that you were letting out.
"Mmm, Wanda!" They became more audible tones, signaling that you were close. There was too much to process, but Wanda decided to quiet her thoughts and allow herself to be delighted by the wonderful sounds you were making.
Hearing you cum for the first time was the most beautiful of all, by far.
A scream of pleasure too desperate, even animalistic, for your own good. Your so innocent set could not withstand that longing finally reaching its highest exponent, after so much stagnation. She was even surprised your little lungs allowed you to scream like that.
Wanda provoked all that in you, without having touched you... yet. But she made up her mind that it would change.
"Start over, but don't you dare cum," she commanded you. "I'm coming over in ten," she established, before hanging out.
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plorpl · 1 year ago
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More info (and insane screenshots) from the House MD DS game for those who want to know.
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Way, way too much info under the break!!
The game took me about 5 hours to play total, including pauses for screenshots and cackling laughter. There are 5 cases, and each one has: the main case, a clinic patient, and a small subplot about Cuddy that strings through all 5 cases and concludes at the end of the game. It's extremely linear. To solve the case, you do activities when you are prompted, each having its own types of mini games. Activities include: examining the patient, ddx-ing, running tests, running labs, questioning the patient/friends/family, and searching houses/other areas for clues. All of these mini games suck. The best one is when House has to have an epiphany so you play brick breaker with his brain:
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WHEN YOU DDX THEY USE THE MOUSE BITES PHOTO
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You'll notice here that the visuals are a little uncanny valley. The likenesses are... not good.
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The worst offender is 13, who always looks just a little bit off.
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One of my favorite parts of the game is that you get graded on your performance and if you do bad, Cuddy doms you.
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And when you do good, Wilson kind of negs you?? Feels like the people who made this game were obsessed with him (same). The contrast in these two screenshots really gets me.
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More insane top screen screenshots without context:
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Honestly, some of my favorites need both screens to really be appreciated:
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I do not recommend playing it, really. These are the best parts, and the game itself is slow and can be frustrating. There is also... a lot of problematic nonsense. Worse than the show. Not going to try to make excuses here.
That being said, it's surreal. House is like a bad stand up comic for most of the game, and so much is out of character - House visits the patient FIRST THING every case, the whole team misses very obvious deductive leaps, there's no gay sex, etc, etc, etc. But at the same time, the people who made the game clearly had a love for the show. It follows the typical structure of an episode faithfully and has some detailed, satisfying visuals in it. Everyone's clothes change each episode, even in their little bottom of the screen sprites. This Wilson makes me happy with his show-accurate mug and hand gesture:
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And there are some nice interiors/exteriors of the hospital and better rendered pictures that make me smile:
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It made me and my friends laugh a lot. And it also makes me a little sad. I spent a lot of my childhood playing shitty licensed games like this (remember the madagascar one???), but they are mostly a thing of the past. I know they were cash-grab trash, but it's odd that there's this genre of game that doesn't really get made any more. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm glad this game exists.
Anyway, here's an upsetting House and Wilson for the road:
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jiminrings · 9 months ago
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fail-safe
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pairing: yoongi x reader
wordcount: 8k
glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.
alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.
[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]
[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]
notes: finally got to writing a new series!!! i'm beyond excited for this + this whole new concept and flow i haven't touched on before <3 i hope u love fail-safe as much as i do :-)
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist
Yoongi buys atleast one scratch ticket a week.
The accessibility of buying one is top-notch considering that all he has to do is cross the street, shoot one look to the cashier, and he can either already go hunch in the corner of the road or in the comfort of his room. The moment his coin takes its first dig and he realizes that he’s won yet again, he’s satisfied enough not to buy another ticket.
He doesn’t want to risk losing the win he’s just gained, the odds of him throwing out money besting his chances in adding to his earnings. He thinks everyone’s a little greedy one way or another, but it’s the righteous part of him that thinks he’s different.
You do think that he is for all the right reasons, your vision only tunneling for him alone. He’s this fixed older figure in your life and you can’t figure out how to shrug him off — he’s this generous leech that sucks all of the rationality from your mind but returns it to you twofold, whether in the form of him saying something unintentionally endearing that it makes your chest hurt, or through him having to lightly smack the back of your head.
Yoongi’s your older brother’s best friend and there’s a novelty tag that comes with him, one that can’t be topped by any material possession to your name. He’s there for you, not in the exact way you want him to be, but nonetheless there. He’s special and unattainable at the same time, the finiteness of his love barely extending to you.
He’s there when you want him to burn the latest songs onto a CD you’ve spent all your allowance in, and he’s there when you get annoyed that he sneaked some of his own recommendations in there. You’re there when you later admit that his suggestions aren’t half-bad, and you also happen to be there when he grins at the praise.
He’s there when Namjoon won’t cough up the last slice of his cutlet, not because he’ll actually give you his, but because he’ll help your brother guard his plate. You’d only have to mope for a solid of three seconds before the two of them give up both of their last slices, and you’re there when Yoongi insists for you to try the sauce in the spirit of going out of your routine.
You don’t need Yoongi every single time but in the event that you do, he hangs back. He contemplates and hesitates and doesn’t give in to every single whim that you have, but he’ll be there. He lingers like the last holiday ornament you don’t want to remove until it’s February, his presence being oddly similar to your favorite festivities.
Yoongi’s the equivalent of a holiday you look forward to with each passing month and day; he comes around to and for you in instances, but never even in your most sincere wishes.
“I buy one scratch ticket a week — three if I’m really feeling lucky. When my palms itch, that’s when I know that I really need to buy them.”
He’s calm and collected even when you’re scrunching your nose up at him in combined worry and disbelief, humming mindlessly as you collect your thoughts. He randomly told you about his lottery routine and you’re still trying to wrap your head around how he blows his money off just easily. Yoongi has the mind to put scrap cardboard under you because sitting on the hot concrete with your uniform on can’t possible be a good idea, but you try to play off your fluster into stubbornness.
He’s just playing with his two ever-present coins (lucky charms as he calls them)— one that’s shiny and minted in the present year, the other being the oldest coin he’s ever had that happens to be older than he is — while you mutter about.
“I don’t know, Yoongs. That might be a gambling problem,” you squint, your side comment being heard clearly as day. “Might be the symptoms for hand, foot, and mouth disease too.”
“What— I do not have a gambling problem! My skin’s perfectly fine too, thanks,” he defends, the light shove he gives you doing nothing to tone down your teasing.
“That’s what people with gambling problems say.”
“Give me that-…” he mutters, trying to wrestle you for the sundae he bought you using the money he won from his scratch ticket just awhile ago. You don’t give in easily, even if your laughs that come straight from your chest suggest otherwise. “You don’t get it. It’s just this nice, fun little thing I can look forward to every week. I always buy the cheapest version anyway so when I lose, it’s not a big deal.”
You relent (like you always do when it comes to Yoongi) in understanding, waving him off after regaining your breath. “Nah. I get it. We all have to do things so we wouldn’t lose our shit,” you trail, racking your head to find the right words.“Yours is buying scratch tickets, and mine is-…”
“Yours is what?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips quirked in eagerness to know where you’re going with this. He can’t pinpoint a single thing he can attach to you and neither can you, your actual interests merely reflecting those of the people whom you love.
You love cross-stitching because your mom loves doing it, the tolerance you have for accidentally being pricked by the needle growing over time.
You enjoy playing badminton because Namjoon’s obsessed with the sport, no matter how ratty your rackets and shuttlecocks have become, and no matter how much he pushes you to ring the doorbell to your neighbor’s when he’s sent it flying to their backyard.
You’re probably an imposter yet you don’t feel like it. You don’t feel bad that your life most probably and will only revolve around your mom and Namjoon (maybe even Yoongi); you don’t feel dissatisfied that your life’s mundane. 
You go where your love goes.
“Mine is watching you buy scratch tickets,” you shrug easily as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making him laugh heartily. You’ve probably done something right because he hauls you up to your feet immediately.
“Get up. I’m buying you your first ticket,” he nudges you, grabbing you by the arm in excitement.
“But I’m not even legal!” you half-heartedly argue, internally excited that you’re finally getting to try your hand at the lottery because you’ve spent a few hundred minutes of your life tuned to the channel to pass the time, awaiting the results for something you haven’t even betted for.
“Right. Like I haven’t seen you trying to squeeze out a drop of beer from our empty cans whenever Namjoon and I drink.”
“Rude,” you roll your eyes playfully, gathering your things from the ground.
“It’s okay. I’ll give you your first sip of beer too if you want,” Yoongi offers sincerely; easily as if you’ve just asked him about the weather.
He’s here to buy you your first scratch ticket, and he’s still here to offer giving you your first sip of liquor in the future.
Your family friend for a cashier vehemently ignores the fact that you’re still underage to participate in the lottery, and instead only chuckles to herself in amusement. She’s an aunt that knows when to step in and not to, and she knows you won’t be harmed by a mere bet. In fact, she knows you won’t be harmed by anything with Yoongi in tow.
“I already used up all my change,” your frown in realization, holding the ticket in your hands in despair despite having scoured your wallet repeatedly.
“Rub it against the pavement. That’s what I do,” Yoongi lies fluidly, a scoff being caught in his throat when you actually attempt to do it.  “I was only kidding, Y/N. Jeez,” he groans, pulling out his wallet. “Ugh. Here. You can have one of my lucky coins.”
It’s the old one, tarnished beyond relief that you can barely recognize what it’s actual value is supposed to be.
“Ew. I’m giving it back. It looks prehistoric,” you narrow your eyes, knowing that you don’t even have to put your fingers nears your nose to know that it’s already left a faint stench on them.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, a habit he can’t tell he’s formed himself or got from you. “If you use your brain for one second, you’d realize that it’s actually worth more because it’s older. Collectors would go crazy for that in the future.”
“That sounds like a hoarding problem.”
He’s just had about enough of your whining so he attempts to trade in the old coin for his lucky new one, but you stop him at the last minute with a meek smile.
“Kidding. Thank you. I’ll keep it safe, Yoongi. I promise,” you rush out before he changes his mind, scratching your ticket in silence.
He waits for you because you’re scratching so politely and neatly, a stark opposite to his experienced skill of scratching the paint off in ten strokes or less.
Your face is too close to the ticket that Yoongi can’t tell what’s happening, making him part your hair like a curtain to peek.
“Did you win?”
“Nope.”
“Let me throw that out for you.”
“No!” you squeak, keeping the ticket close to your chest. It’s a bummer that your first time is a loss, but it didn’t mean that you wanted to forget the sentiment behind it. “I-I mean no, I’ll keep it. It’s memorable now that I think about it.”
“Alright,” he shrugs carelessly, a smile breaking out in retaliation. “Hoarder.”
“Gambler,” you spit, tucking the ticket into your pencil case. “Next week again?”
Yoongi agrees, wrapping his head around the fact that he doesn’t have to be alone in his little routine every Friday.
“Sure.”
( ♡ )
You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.
As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.
You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.
You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.
Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye. 
You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself. 
So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.
“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”
“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.
Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”
You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.
The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.
“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.
“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.
“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”
There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.
You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there’s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.
There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.
“Yoongi.” 
“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.
“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”
“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”
You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”
“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.
“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?
You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.
Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.
You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”
He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”
“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot. 
Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.
“I will teach you next week.”
“Oh my-…”
He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”
“Ouch.”
“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.
“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”
“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.” 
“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion. 
You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.
“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.
He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.
“You can have the helmet.”
( ♡ )
Yoongi knows the ins and outs of your home.
He’s been at your house too much to the point that your mom already gave him a spare key and nobody batted an eye about it. He has his own designated slippers at the entryway too, something you would only use in a hurry if you needed to sign off on a package.
Yoongi, for some reason unfathomable (not really; you can tell exactly why because your mom is an extremely warm and inviting person), also has the power of dibs on the food in your fridge. He’d put strips of masking tape with his name on food that’s neither brought in nor made for him in the first place. 
It should be off-putting — the way that for too many yet too little reason, Yoongi has become a prominent figure in your life even if you didn’t ask him to. You should be peeved that you have to set up four plates more often that you set up only three; you should be annoyed at some point that when you wake up at random times through the night, you’re not totally alone to begin with.
You shouldbe angry at Yoongi to a degree because he’s in your life and you don’t get to have a say on how he stays in it. The only problem is that you’re not, and probably never will.
“Can’t sleep?” you mutter as you look up from your strikingly clear paper, seeing Yoongi strut across the floor with a casualness that only real occupants of the house should supposedly possess. He has his brows furrowed at you as if he didn’t expect to see you in your living room, scratching his head in wonder.
“Why are you up?”
“Stressed,” you sigh, giving up altogether in attempting to make yourself look busy. Yoongi drives by your fridge to get himself a can of beer, finally seating himself beside you on the floor. 
“Stressed about what? I’m sure it’s not about studying,” he snorts, unsurprised at your paper and the clear lack of motivation behind it. You only roll your eyes at him and he has half a mind to not remind you to not do it so much, the frown in your face reminding him that you really were frustrated.
It is you to throw the occasional tantrum, but he remembers that it was only when you were young; when Namjoon would whisper gibberish to his ear and purposely not whisper to yours just so he could tease you, or when nobody would believe that you taught yourself how to ride a bike with no training wheels. You didn’t know how to do the latter at all, but what had made you throw a tantrum was that nobody believed you.
You notice Yoongi’s digs, of course. You notice each one of his more than unsubtle nods to your intelligence and whatnot, the shots at your intellect not flying over your head like he expected them to.  You admit that you’ve never been that scholastic; you weren’t born a genius and you don’t try exactly hard either.
Yoongi’s only joking but you can’t help but to think that he’s pertaining to something deeper, his constant digs at your lack of a passion making you sluggish.
“We have to write this essay,” you answer simply, your tone straightforward and unwilling for banter but Yoongi bites anyway.
“But essays are the easiest,” he trails, looking at you the whole time as he takes a sip of his beer.
You exhale heavily because no matter what, he just can’t seem to get it. Yoongi knows where you’re coming from but he doesn’t know where you’re headed. As a matter of fact, you don’t know where you’re headed either. “We have to write an essay about where we see ourselves ten years from now.”
“But that’s still easy.”
“If it’s so easy, then go write it for me,” you snicker, leaning back with a huff. He constantly undermines you and although you own up to your striking mundaneness from time to time, it didn’t mean that you liked being looked down on. Yoongi’s too used to you being yourself, he gets taken aback when you grow sick of your own.
He gathers all his willpower, far from being sleepy unlike you who would’ve been lulled to sleep if only you weren’t dead-set on arguing with him. “You know what? I actually will,” he claps, handing you his beer. “Go hold this for me.”
Yoongi grips your pen for dear life like you hold his beer, his hand warm as he works from sheer determination alone (he’s not competing with anyone except for whatever expectation you have for him and your paper), while yours was cold just holding his drink.
You’ve been so quiet that he actually gets curious, turning his head to check to see if you’ve dozed off when actually, it’s just you eyeing the can.
“No one’s watching,” Yoongi breaks you out of your thoughts, carelessly shrugging. He cares and he’s far too concerned for you, but he figures that nothing would hurt you so long as he can grasp you. “It’s okay. You can have your first sip.”
You blink owlishly at him and when he jokes about taking it back, you take your first swig of beer in a panic. Yoongi only shakes his head in amusement, pausing his writing just to see the look on your face.
“One more?” he asks right after he sees you wince, the unbearable sweetness yet bitter, stinging aftertaste of the beer making you shudder. 
You have the urge to wash off the taste with ice cold water (you’ll even drink from the tap because you’re so desperate), but you resist it just so you wouldn’t look like a weakling in front of him. You wave him off with a bitterness, upset that beer doesn’t taste like what you’ve always imagined it to be. “Just write my essay for me,” you mull over the taste in your tongue, in deep thought while you stare at Yoongi’s back ahead of you. “Do all beers taste that way?”
“Eh. Most of them do. You develop a taste for it later on,” he answers, taking the can back from you before drinking it himself. He looks too dedicated in writing your essay, only goading the curiosity in you to peek over his shoulder.
He knows you, both in heart and memory, because he shields your own paper from you when he sees your shadow hovering above him.
“Yoongi?”
“Hm.”
“I told you why I’m up. Why are you up?”
He’s silent entirely, the only indication that he heard your question being his hand pausing abruptly. Yoongi doesn’t answer, and you don’t ask again. “Don’t worry about it.”
You take his answer to heart, dozing off on the couch before you know it. You don’t remember a blanket being placed on you, nor can you remember preparing your backpack for school the next day.
Your paper’s neatly tucked into your portfolio bearing handwriting that’s clearly not yours, but with a sentiment that’s similar nonetheless. You read through everything quickly before even stepping towards your teacher, the tips of your fingers just as cold as Yoongi’s beer last night.
You’ve committed the paper into your memory, even until the last part with an excerpt you can’t forget despite having passed the paper already. You don’t know what to feel because it’s Yoongi who’s speaking for you, detailing that ten years from now, you will still be your mother’s daughter and your brother’s sister.
He wrote your essay either for you or in behalf of you, and you can’t tell which one is better.
Yoongi, who knows the ins and outs of your home and the peaks and troughs of your heart, writes in clear handwriting — Ten years from now, I will still be Yoongi’s rock.
( ♡ )
Surprisingly, Yoongi hasn’t been around that much lately.
Even Namjoon (who you consider as his Siamese twin) is clueless to why his friend hasn’t been hanging out with him lately to do either everything or nothing, confused because they’re enrolled to the same classes all the way to the same part-time jobs, yet Yoongi’s been mostly unavailable.
When Yoongi is, however, he doesn’t speak at all about his previous absences. He comes as if he’s never disappeared a few times before that, his evasion to talk about his presence being apparent even if you’ve asked him directly.
You’re getting used to his new routine of hanging out with you only when the both of you are free, no longer moving mountains for both of your schedules to line up. He’s more present this month than he was at the last, the criteria for it being how many times you bump into him in your own home.
Despite all odds and evens though, Yoongi can’t get used to your silence. He knows you hold grudges longer than your brother, and the last time that he checked, he knows you’ve already let go of your annoyance for him suddenly being unavailable without any explanation. 
It’s late, only the two of you are awake in the living room, there’s ten scratch tickets on the table for you to share, and he’s even gotten you your own glass to which he’ll put a controlled amount (a grand total of two long sips) of his own beer in. You’re not stressing about an essay this time, but the unconscious pout on your face is still the same.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
The frown on your face only goes deeper at being found out, the scratch of your lucky coin being the only clear thing that Yoongi hears. 
“My best friends want to have this slumber party,” you sigh, more upset about what you’ve just uttered than you are happy about the cash prize you’ve just won.
Yoongi takes what you say at face-value, groaning at his third straight loss for the night. “That’s great. Wear cute pajamas, snap a couple of polaroids, don’t be the first to fall asleep and last to wake up, and just keep a pocket knife with you when you’re going out by yourself.” 
The awe (and slight concern) over what he said should roll in any time now.
You should be comforted at Yoongi’s words because they’re supposed to ease the swirl of your stomach, even if what he just said is a repackaged version of what your family said before. You should let go of your worries because Yoongi, of all people, says that it’s supposed to be great.
Instead, you feel neither of what you think Yoongi wants you to.
“Was it something I said?” he mumbles after some time, turning his nose up at you as he tries to retrace his words. “I have an extra pocket knife you can borrow if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“We’re gonna be talking about boys, Yoongi,” you screw your eyes shut, sighing into the palms of your hands with a heaviness. “We’re gonna talk about crushes and experiences and all that.”
He shudders at that, his reaction mirroring Namjoon’s when you tried opening up to him. You get your brother’s reaction to a degree, of course, because you feel as if you’d be disgusted too if the roles were reversed. You want to talk about it with your mom too, but at the end of the day, she’s your parent and you just can’t talk about anything and everything with her. 
Yoongi’s your next plausible option.
“Do you want some ice cream right now? You know what, I’ll buy you-…” Yoongi tries to evade the topic altogether, his attempt of escaping feeble as you drag him down by his hoodie.
“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”
“Heh.”
Yoongi shrugs at that, regaining his words when you deadpan at him. “So? What about it?”
You starfish on the floor at that out of frustration, the whine you’ve been bottling up coming out in the open because as usual, Yoongi doesn’t get it. “I-I’m probably the only one in my grade who hasn’t kissed someone yet! I can’t just lie carelessly because obviously, they’ll ask around.”
“So?” Yoongi chuckles, his breeze towards your state shocking you. “What’s it to them if you haven’t had your first kiss?”
“You don’t get it,” you grit through your teeth, crossing your arms so hard that it feels hard to inhale.
“I’m pretty sure I do,” he sing-songs, drinking the last of his beer. When you’re not looking though, he plans to either drink or chuck the remainder of your share because he doesn’t want you to develop a taste for it.
The anger you have for Yoongi bubbles up once again, the itch in your throat unbearable. You’re presented with the age gap between you once more, along with the raging emptiness in you that Yoongi’s reached so far and you’ve reached so little.
“You don’t get it because you’ve had all of these experiences when you were younger than my age right now,” you snap, although you don’t look at him when you do. If you do look at him though, you’ll only be reminded of how a face like his could have everything in this world — even a first kiss you’ve never had.
“Yeah, and so?” he knits his brows, growing defensive. You weren’t lying at all, but he still feels a little offended at the dig. He’s not not proud of it, but with the way you say it, it’s like you want him to burn in shame,
“Stop saying so,” you angrily mumble in frustration, a little breathless because you still don’t ease up on crossing your arms.
Yoongi straightens his posture, staring you down with his jaw set. He’s stern as he is, nostrils flaring in irritation. “No, Y/N. I’m genuinely asking — so what? What’s it to you if I had my first kiss at a younger age? What about it if everyone else in your grade has kissed someone and you haven’t? It’s not the end of the world.”
“I-I don’t know! It’s just unfair!” you let up, yielding to both the facts that Yoongi’s right with it not being the end of the world, and that you’re still entitled to feeling upset.
“Instead of spending time obsessing over your first kiss, maybe I don’t know,  try being productive? You’re heading to college soon and you haven’t even thought of a career,” Yoongi goes off on you, making you roll your eyes automatically. There he goes again with the great big push of trying to push you into your supposed passions in life. “Someone else’s luck doesn’t mean it’s already your misfortune.”
“But it is.”
You say it so definitively, you almost convince him. You have your principles and so does Yoongi, but not everyone else. You have your principles yet you don’t have the luck. You’re not getting anywhere in life just like Yoongi or anyone else who was remotely born into wealth, no matter how quiet or obvious.
You can’t pursue something that interests you in the slightest without thinking what would come out of it. You can’t think of a degree and a course you’ll stick with, enough to do for the rest of your life because the only other option is to fail completely if you don’t. You have no plan and no passion and you don’t know if you’ll ever amount to anything to anyone at all.
By all means, you don’t agree with Yoongi this time. Someone else’s luck is your misfortune, in the same way that his first kiss doesn’t mean that it’s yours.
The sidetrack to your argument is a closed case already, judging by your downcast gaze. “I just have to put myself out there, that’s all. My first kiss doesn’t even have to mean anything. I just want to have it,” you admit, shoulders relaxing.
“Don’t,” Yoongi groans, the opposite of you as his whole body tenses.
He thinks that you don’t get him at all.
“What do you meandon’t?”
Your argument’s long-over (atleast you thought it was) but Yoongi’s getting more agitated by the minute, the disbelief on his face throwing you off. “Don’t do things just because you feel like you have to! Are you even hearing yourself right now?”
“I don’t want to be left behind, Yoongi! That’s all I’m trying to get at,” you raise your hands in surrender, shrugging thoughtlessly — it makes him want yell into a paper bag in exasperation. “I don’t want to be picked last. I don’t want to not be wanted.”
Yoongi exhales, screwing his eyes shut. It stays silent like that for a little while; him calming himself down, and you scratching your tickets. The calm doesn’t stay for long because you open your mouth carelessly, again.
“Can you be my first kiss?”
“Are you insane?”
“Ugh.”
You go back to your fourth scratch ticket, pouting in disappointment. You’re unfazed about the win that’s probably the largest sum you’ve had ever since you started doing the lottery.
You’re upset and you’re sick in the stomach but you stay silent like you never asked Yoongi to be your first kiss; it’s like you haven’t indirectly admitted to him that you love him enough, more than so, to want him to be your first.
You’re about to scratch the final ticket when Yoongi juts his hand out, fingers barely brushing yours to stop you.
“On second thought, don’t scratch that. Just keep it.”
“Because you want to turn me into a hoarder too?” you snicker, heeding his suggestion regardless.
“Because I’m not going to be right about everything,” Yoongi mumbles, looking at you with a solemnness you can’t decipher.
You try until the solemnness turns into pity.
“Still don’t want to be my first kiss?”
Yoongi softly laughs to your face, smiling as he lets you down — whether easily or harshly, you can’t tell.
“You already know what I’m going to say.”
( ♡ )
You’d like to think that you’re not kept in the dark about most things.
You already know that although your mom hasn’t had any relationships since your dad left, she still has plenty of suitors. Some of them are the reason why you have random food deliveries in the middle of the dinner that she’s already cooked, some have sucked up to her by getting you and Namjoon gifts. 
You know about Namjoon’s growing love for football, even with the lessons he takes in secret because he didn’t want to trouble your mom for the money. It’s why he does his part-time job and why you’re looking for one anyways. You don’t want nor need much, so you almost always give him the remainder of your allowance by the end of each week.
Yoongi, on the other hand, you don’t know much about. You know that he’s an only child with a doting mom who works overseas and a rich but emotionally unavailable dad at home, and that’s about it. His home life is synonymous with yours, considering that your four walls have become an extension of his.
Maybe you’ve become too lenient on him — either that, or he’s become too disrespectful. It’s at times like these where your house is not his home, sickeningly so that you don’t want it to be yours either.
Yoongi is a sight to behold as he makes out with a half-naked girl on your bed, in your room. Your room has never been the neatest but with everything going on, it feels that it’s become the dirtiest that it’s ever been. Your house slippers are on the floor even if you always leave them by the entryway, and your sheets are a mess despite being one of the only things you try to keep folded in the room.
You’re angry, too much to the point that the words get caught in your throat. They catch onto bile and venom and everything at once, the strain in your voice heard when you yell.
“What the fuck?!”
Yoongi and the girl, whom you figure out to be Hyewon that he’s shared his first kiss with, jolt in unison. Hyewon’s scared shitless while Yoongi’s annoyed to death, the grunt he lets out pricking your ears further. “Sorry, sorry. She’s my best friend’s sister. She’s so annoying,” he drags you out of your room before he even gives you the entitlement to storm out of there in a fit of rage, seeing red the longer that he seems upset at you.
“What the fuck was that, Yoongi?” you grit through your teeth, the moment of you seeing red turn into white because you’re so frustrated that you could actually cry. Your chest’s heavy, not only out of rage, but out of everything that’s built up in the course of years.
“Can you keep it down?” Yoongi seethes, pursing his lips. “What, would you rather see us do it in the living room?”
“In the — what? Who do you think you are? This isn’t even your house, why are you bringing these girls here?” you point an accusing finger at him yet he doesn’t back away, his annoyance for you only growing tenfold.
He’s in the wrong no matter which way you look at it yet he doesn’t realize it, the epiphany that Yoongi genuinely thinks he’s in the right for doing this to you making your skin burn in fire.
“This is literally the first time I’ve ever done this! I can’t bring her back to my place, my dad has guests over!”
“So your smartest idea is to fuck someone in my bed?”
“Oh, you’re welcome. It’s the most action your four walls have ever seen,” he spits sarcastically, eyes narrowing at you. It takes little effort for him to dig up what you came to him for in worry and it terrifies you. The facet of Yoongi who had sternly told you that it was okay to be left behind if it means getting what you deserve, resembling nothing like him at the moment.
“I can’t believe you!” you whisper as you tremble, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I told you that in confidence.”
“In confidence? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re not exactly a catch, Y/N.”
You clench your jaw so hard that it hurts, you ball your fists so tightly that it stings.
You leave your home without saying another word.
.
.
.
Namjoon’s panicked.
He came home a little later than usual because he had maximized the life out of his soccer lessons, only getting the signal to leave when the lights were turned off. He was only slightly worried at the first place because he was supposed to cook dinner for the both of you, but he placated himself by realizing that you’re not the baby that he still thinks you are — you could cook dinner for yourself if you were hungry already.
He thinks nothing of it. In fact, he just makes a quick stop at the convenience store so the both of you could indulge in a liter of ice cream without your mom urging to leave some for another night. You could think of a recipe from scratch (and it almost always works out at the end), so Namjoon walked in fully thinking he’ll get to sniff whatever concoction you have.
Except, he walks into a completely dark house, and that’s when he panics.
He can’t find your slippers by the entryway and you’re not in your room either. You’re not at the other convenience store hunched over taking your chances on scratch tickets, and you’re not out on the street either going people-watching.
The panic rises in him the more that Namjoon grasps this is the first time that this has ever happened and he doesn’t know why. He’s always made an effort to be absorbed into both your personal and academic affairs, and as far as he knows, you’re neither in a sleepover nor on a field trip somewhere.
Namjoon thinks it’s his fault someway somehow, and the guilt can’t fully dissipate from him until he sees you.
“Hey, Yoongi,” he breathlessly gasps the moment his friend answers, the latter being surprised because he thought it was you who was calling him after what happened awhile ago.
It’s his fault and he’s realized that hours too late, and the selfish part of him thinks that it’s you calling at ten in the evening begging for forgiveness.
“What’s up, man? It’s late,” he wonders out loud, thinking for a second if they were too much of the Siamese twins that you tease them to be because he can’t think of a rational reason why Namjoon would call him at this time of night.
Namjoon raggedly exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen Y/N by any chance?”
Yoongi’s heart drops so loudly that Namjoon thought for second that his friend had hung up on him, his urgency being shared the moment that he asked.
“What? Y/N isn’t home?” Yoongi asks in disbelief, immediately being filled with anxiety and disbelief. Just awhile ago, the two of you were arguing outside of your room. He did hear you leave, but he had fully expected for you to be back hours ago. He’s wracked with guilt all over, the drop in his chest amplified by the pit in his stomach.
“She’s not. Practice ran late and I-I know she’s responsible so I didn’t hurry home,” Namjoon recalls, being more and more frazzled by the second. “She left her phone here, and mom isn’t here either because she’s visiting my grandparents, a-and I don’t want to call her because I know she’ll be worried, a-and-…”
Yoongi interrupts him, the tremble in his fingers only enabling him to dig his nails into his palm deeper. “I’m coming over. Let’s look for her together.”
It barely takes a minute for the both of them to come together, not even exchanging any pleasantries with each other before Yoongi steps on the gas. 
Namjoon’s filled with guilt, the type that only a sibling could carry as a burden. He thinks he was too selfish — too accustomed to pulling your own weight that it must have given you the impression that you had no other choice but to. Whatever it was that made you leave out of the blue, Namjoon thinks he could’ve done more. He should’ve came home and made you dinner as promised, for starters. He’s guilty over the fact that he’s the only close familial male figure in your life and he let this happen, as he makes Yoongi put his headlights on high-beam, scanning for anyone that looks remotely like you.
Yoongi, on the other hand, is filled with a guilt he can’t even begin to explain. It corrodes him from the inside-out in realization that he’s to blame for your sudden disappearance, the fact that Namjoon comes to him first to help find you not helping at all. If only your brother knew what he had done to you, he’s positive that he’ll be on the receiving end of a punch — what gets him more is that Yoongi wouldn’t blame him at all.
They see you in the bus stop two cities away, dressed in the same clothes you ran out with. 
Namjoon’s relieved beyond compare while Yoongi’s fuming, his hands tucked inside his jacket to prevent himself from squeezing you into an embrace; neither of you deserve it. 
There’s an underlying anger within Namjoon, one that lies behind the back of his throat as he checks you over for any injuries. The two of you walk ahead to Yoongi’s car while he himself trails behind, his heart significantly calmer than it was the past hour, yet nowhere near normal.
“Wanna tell me what you did?” your brother hums, trying to exhale the worry that’s embedded into him with each squeeze he gives around your shoulders.
“Went to the convenience store, bumped into my friends, then we took this impromptu roadtrip to go to the night market, then we all had our first actual shot of liquor and not just beer, my friend who owns the car turned out to be a lightweight, and now everyone just has to commute home,” you narrate in recollection, squeezing Namjoon back to try and ground him.
“Okay,” he answers simply, nodding. “Wanna tell me what happened before you did all those things?”
The breathless chuckle that leaves you is empty, void of any amusement at all. You smile nonetheless, unable to placate both yourself and Namjoon. “Nope.”
You arrive in silence to Yoongi’s car, the words unsaid between the three of you generating more tension than your brief disappearance itself.
Yoongi opens the front door for you, but you settle for sitting in the backseat.
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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 7 months ago
Text
Hazbin Hotel characters react to your stims
(I'm doing my personal favorite characters, so if there are others you wanna see, ask me. They may also be slightly OOC.)
Vox
You can't convince me this man doesn't also have ADHD. He's just spent decades masking it, as well as most of himself, to present a perfect image. Probably heard the term as it got more well known but didn't really connect the dots until meeting you.
He fidgets a lot, tapping his claws, bouncing his legs, can't sit in a fucking chair properly.
Doesn't realize he's overstimulated and burnt out from multi tasking dozens of screens until you point it out.
Once he's aware of it you help him manage his work better so he can be less stimulated and tense. You buy him proper fidget toys to mess with and he makes himself some top of the line bass boosted sound canceling headphones. He gives you a pair, too. When you're both alone, you look up songs with loaded bass in 8d just to watch each other twitch and involuntarily move your head with the sound.
That's about the extent of the conscious level of unmasking he'll do though. He gets self conscious.
But, he adores the fact you're comfortable enough to stim around him. Or in public. He can and will violently end people for even giving you dirty looks for stimming in public.
If you show excitement and joy over being around someone through happy noms he will literally get heart eyes. Just be careful where you bite him because it may lead to something else.
He's happy to let you stim, which means tricking him into doing it more.
He remembers and sub consciously absorbs your echolalias or any word replacements you use. If you do a lot of call and response vocals he learns them. (Call and response is basically when you memorize a sound with two people. One calls the other responds. You can just say both parts yourself ((I do)) but it's more satisfying with someone else).
If you do happy flappies this man will short circuit. (He will laugh if you accidentally smack yourself though).
If you squeal and kick you may give him a heart attack. He thought you were hurt or something. He gets used to it eventually but it still startles him.
Vox is also a chatter box so you two can info dump about special interests to each other for hours. Neither one of you expects the other to remember details, but the fact you don't tell each other to shut up and are content to do your own thing while listening to your partner/friend gush is enough.
He has long since forced himself into strict routines so if you struggle to get tasks started or get distracted in the middle of them he's understanding but stern. Tends to cause more harm than good because he talks down to you unintentionally.
If you're a visual/hands on learner he also gets frustrated with you for wasting hours trying to figure it out yourself and getting yourself upset instead of just letting him do it for you. You get into a lot of fights about it at first. He gets better when he sees it genuinely prevents you from enjoying things or trying new things and that you just kinda default to defeated and helpless. He didn't mean to make you feel dumb, he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want help. Until the tables turn and as he's getting worked up over something he can't figure out and you just stare at him.
He finally snaps at you what the hell you're doing and you smirk "need help? Why don't I just do it for you and you watch? Come on, you've been struggling for an hour, stop being so stubborn and just let me do it. I'll show you later, it's not hard." You feed his own lines back at him and his stomach drops.
"Oh....that feels...mmmm. Nope! Don't like that. Ok. Won't happen again, doll."
Realistically if you work with him and you make mouth noises a lot (bird whistles, tongue clicks, humming, random shrieks) he will get annoyed. It's distracting him and sometimes you don't realize you're doing it and mess up anything he tries to record. The first few times he snaps at you and it causes problems (hello rejection sensitive dysphoria) but eventually he learns how to better talk to you/communicate without accidentally convincing you he hates you.
Alastor
Probably on the spectrum himself, but it also could just be his anti-social habits. Either way he finds you entertaining and your bouts of sporadic energy and gremlin like behavior don't phase him. He's been dealing with Niffty for years.
If you sing or hum a lot to get work done, or listen to music he's all for it. But if you're the type of ADHD where work fast music=horny and bass he'll insist you wear headphones. If you're content to listen to swing (he'll compromise with electroswing) or jazz, he'll play the radio for you.
He doesn’t even care if you're a good singer or not, he just likes seeing you get into it. Will show off by singing it better than you though.
If you're someone who picks your fingers or skin, he'll slap your hands. You bleeding is making him hungry and distracting him. He'll find you something else to do with your hands. Same with nail biting.
He tends to pull his hair when stressed so if you stim with your hair he gets it and unless it's harmful (eating/pulling) he'll leave it, but if you're like him he's either cutting your hair short or braiding it.
Will die before admitting it but thinks you flapping, hopping, clapping, squealing is the most adorable thing ever. Also, laughs at you if you smack yourself, though.
Doesn't understand your memes so half your echolalia go over his head and he just kinda stares at you.
Scolds you for not sitting in the chair properly.
Smiles, nods, and occasionally says "that's nice dear" when you info dump. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't listen to something he's not interested in for that long.
Mouth noises make his eye twitch but so long as they don't interrupt him, he won't scold you.
He understands you're not dumb but he also doesn't have the patience to help your or wait for you to get things done so he does them for you and tells you stop pouting when you get upset with him.
He likes you enough to not reject your touch and enjoys being in your space, but please refrain from happy biting the cannibal. He will bite back and it's less cute when he does.
Lucifer
The original AUDHD. You two chatter for hours about special interests.
He makes you stim toys.
You two do the adhd laugh so hard over dumb shit you gotta hold onto and smack each other thing. You both wind up on the floor.
Literally would never talk down to you or trigger your RSD. He's spent centuries feeling like he's constantly annoying, dumb, and struggling to time manage and do tasks.
Is equally fed up with people offering to do things for him because he can do it he just needs help getting started. The more you ask if he wants you to do it or when he's gonna do it the harder it is. So you two just sorta hobble together a system for getting shit done.
It's not perfect but if it gets outta hand he can just snap his fingers and fix it.
He happy flaps with his hands and wings and constantly knocks you or other shit over. It embarrasses him but you're in love. You two sometimes hold hands to do the happy bounce squeal, shaking each other.
He initiates happy bites more than you do. Honestly you both start looking like chew toys.
You two echolali all the time and share new ones you find. If you ever can't find each other, just shout one of your current vocal stims and he'll respond.
Literally, the definition of choas couple.
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jeonginsleftcheek · 23 days ago
Text
The sun to me
Chapter X. Caress.
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pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader
word count: 7.4k
chapter summary: two waves crash into each other to become one, entwined together and lost in the ocean of love and pleasure.
warnings: they're disgustingly in love, lots of sweet nicknames, praise, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, nipple play, squirting, unprotected sex (pls don't)
~ Masterlist for the series
~ next part
🧡Orange lily- passion
It's a quiet late morning in your flower shop, there is a birthday coming up and a resident had ordered flowers for his wife.
Your hands are working tirelessly on the bouquet as Hyunjin admires you, now even bringing an easel and a canvas so he can paint at your shop.
It's as if his hands have finally been untied, the burden lifted from his heart, they glide easily on the paper like they did once before.
Now with even more fervor and passion, the colors are bright and happy, depicting you as the most beautiful goddess in her luscious garden.
You look up from your bouquet at him, and he senses you and looks up from his canvas.
Matching smiles instantly spread on your lips, both of you still a bit timid around each other as you look away.
"It's almost time for lunch break."- you look at the clock, feeling a bit peckish.
"Mhm, I'm honestly waiting for that."- Hyunjin doesn't look up from his canvas.
"Why didn't you say so earlier? You know I can close up any time right?"- you put down the flowers you were working with.
"I do but you were so into it and I didn't wanna break your concentration."- he says.
You round the counter to come closer to him.
"You're silly, you know that? Food comes first."- you say and Hyunjin smirks as he puts his paintbrush down and swiftly wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"No, kisses come first."- he says and purses his lips at you.
You chuckle and lean down, giving in immediately because who are you to deny him and yourself something that feels so right.
The kiss is sweet and slow, the kind you prefer these last few days; for some unknown reason to Hyunjin you'd pull away any time it got a bit heated.
But his arm is possessive around you, keeping you in place until he's satisfied with the attention he got.
"Let's go eat."- you lean back and Hyunjin nods, helping you lock up before you make your way to the restaurant.
"Oh, my lovebirds!"- Catherine claps happily when she sees the two of you walking in and holding hands.
"Hi!"- you chuckle, face red instanly.
"Your usual?"- she asks and both of you nod, with the time Hyunjin had spent here, he also had a usual he would order.
You're silent, your eyes trained out the window even after Catherine brings two glasses of refreshing lemonade.
"A penny for your thoughts."- Hyunjin chimes in, and you get pulled out of your mind as you turn to look at him.
"It's nothing."- you shut down as you shake your head.
"It's something."- he says quietly. "It's okay, whatever it is, you can tell me when you're ready."
"Thanks."- you smile at him, the look on his face sweet and genuine, concern etched in his brows, affection shining in his eyes and words of comfort dripping from his lips.
Your food is served soon, and you eat while making small talk, you act normal even though things are bothering you and you know it's your own mind that's your worst enemy, nagging at you even in sweet moments like this.
After lunch as you walk out, you're lost in your thoughts again as you make your way to the shop.
Hyunjin's heart is sinking. He doesn't know what exactly is bothering you but he can tell it has something to do with him.
You've pulled away any time he held you closer and last three nights, he saw you get out of bed only to sleep on the couch. You thought he was asleep but he heard you sniffle a few times and he didn't know what to do or how to approach you as he himself was scared.
As soon as you walk into the flower shop, Hyunjin grabs the key and before you can react he locks the door.
"Wh-what are you doing?"- you ask, as you stand in front of your counter and see Hyunjin making his way to you.
"Y/n, I know something is wrong. I notice all the small things, you know that. I notice how you move away from me and how you sneak out of bed to sleep on the couch. I-I think I heard you cry. And if you keep holding it in, stuff will escalate and I want to know what's going on and be there for you. I know our relationship just began but-"
"Are we in a relationship?"- you ask nervously.
"I never really asked officially, did I?"- Hyunjin bites on his lip and you shake your head no.
"Alright, well that's no good."- Hyunjin quickly turns around and grabs a red rose that was put aside for the bouquet.
"What are you planning?"- you chuckle, almost forgetting about your worries.
Hyunjin comes closer to you and your body vibrates.
"My wonderful muse, the most beautiful woman on this planet, will you make me the happiest man alive and be my girlfriend?"- he asks, reaching the rose to you and you burst into laughter, smacking his chest in embarassment.
"That sounds like a cheesy proposal."- you tease and he snickers.
"It is a cheesy proposal. So?"- he blinks his eyes at you sweetly and you take the rose from his hand.
"Yes, I'll be your girlfriend."- you say and Hyunjin giggles cutely before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug.
"Was that bothering you, love?"- he kisses your head and you shiver at the nickname.
"Not really."- you gulp and he leans back to look at you.
"Then what is it? Tell me, I'll do anything to make you feel better."- he says, his eyes big and genuine.
"It's stupid now that I think about it."- you feel embarassed already.
"You can tell me anything."- he grabs your hands in an attempt to comfort you.
"It's just... I'm afraid that you'll leave and forget me. I'm scared of being abandoned, I really am. That's why I'm always alone because it's easier that way, much easier than just putting your heart into someone's hands and hoping they won't damage it. I can't take the thought of losing you and I just... I just want to let myself be yours."- you confess, tears sliding down your cheeks. "B-but I feel at times like I don't even deserve you, I'm just some insignificant flower girl and you're... well you. I feel like you can do better."- you finish quietly and you can see the hurt flash in Hyunjin's eyes, sadness swirling inside them.
"Y/n you obviously don't even see yourself the way I see you. You're not just some insignificant flower girl, you're my flower girl, my muse, my love, you've made my withering heart blossom again with your sweetness and your kindness. You've warmed me up and made me feel alive again. You're the sun to me, y/n. And don't think less of yourself. I'm not that special either, I'm just some guy but I'm your guy and that makes me special to you, hm?"- he says and you nod, your tears flowing like a river and Hyunjin catches every single one, wiping them away and wiping your worries away, one by one.
"I could never leave you and I could never forget you. You've left your imprint in my soul and heart. I would rather die than break your heart. I will cherish it, it's safe in my hands, my love. You have my heart too, I'm all yours, y/n."- he says and before you can utter a single word in response, his lips are on yours.
Hyunjin kisses you with all he has, all the words that have just been said are now pouring into your lips as you clutch onto him like he'll disappear any moment.
His hands are soothing as he caresses your head and your cheeks, and you lean back a little as he gently pushes his tongue in your mouth.
Your arms wrap around his waist, bringing him closer as you give into him, letting him taste you as his tongue circles yours.
One of Hyunjin's hands slides down from your head to wrap around your neck possessively, just resting it there but not squeezing.
You whimper into his mouth, leaning into his hand and gripping his shirt.
He parts from you when your breath is stolen, both of your eyes glazed over with lust.
"Darling."- Hyunjin exhales, brushing his lips on yours. "I want you so bad."- he whispers in your ear, hands sliding down to your waist and then to your hipbone.
"I-I want you too."- you whimper. "B-but we can't - here - not here..."- you babble as he starts kissing your neck, the feeling of his soft plushy lips against your heated skin makes your mind cloudy instantly.
Hyunjin smirks against you, licking at you before he sinks his teeth in right into your most sensitive spot.
"Ah!"- you moan loudly, throwing your head back, nails digging into him as he sucks on your skin, his hands on your exposed thighs.
Your body vibrates and you feel arousal gushing out of you like a wave, feeling a bit embarassed that you're already getting wet.
"H-Hyunjin."- the way you whimper his name like a prayer makes him twitch, his heart dancing in his chest.
He leans back a little to kiss and lick at the bruised spot before he looks at you, a purple flower blooming on your skin, proof of who you belong to.
The way you look at him drives him crazy and his hands end up under your thighs, making you squeak as he sits you up on your counter and pulls you into him.
He leans his forehead on yours, breathing heavily against you, and you hold onto his shoulders.
"I want our first time to be romantic but I'm finding it hard to control myself. I feel like I need you with every fiber of my being."- Hyunjin says, kissing your lips.
"I need you too, I need you so bad."- you grip at him.
"Fuck, y/n... Would you let me taste you, please? Let me make you feel good. I wanna show you how much I appreciate you, hm?"- Hyunjin's hands run up and down your thighs, squeezing you occasionally and lifting your dress up every time they come up.
"Yes, yes please."- you whimper and Hyunjin kisses you passionately once more, his hands on your inner thigh, close to your core.
You spread your legs more, inviting him to touch you further and you feel his fingertips sliding around your clothed core, teasing and slow, making you freeze for a moment.
Your eyes meet and a sense of safety and comfort washes over you.
"Relax, darling, I won't hurt you."- Hyunjin promises as he slides his fingers on your pussy, feeling how wet you already are in your panties.
He leans in as he senses your apprehension, determined to make you feel blissfully satisified, he starts leaving sweet kisses on your jawline, neck and collarbone, his fingers caressing your folds.
Your breathing gets ragged as your eyes flutter closed, and with your head thrown back and legs spread for him, Hyunjin thinks you look like the most beautiful flower his eyes have ever seen.
He pushes your lacy panties aside when your legs tremble and finds your sensitive nub, pressing into it and moving his fingers in circles.
You gasp and whimper, one hand gripping at his shoulder and the other gripping the edge of the counter.
Hyunjin's other hand is on the strap of your dress as he slowly pulls it down.
He looks at you to see any signs of discomfort but your eyes are closed and you're leaning into him so he puts his hand on your breast, squeezing gently, his thumb finding your nipple even under the layers of your dress and bra.
You moan quietly and look at him hazily, blinking a few times, you don't remember the last time you were touched at all, let alone this gently and lovingly.
"P-please."- you whimper, desperate for him to take you.
"What do you want, my love? I'll give you everything."- Hyunjin says, his fingers sliding between your wet folds, your sweet juices dripping on his fingertips and you almost feel embarassed at how fast you're getting wet.
"More, I need more."- you whimper and Hyunjin decides to do what he first promised.
He slowly gets down on his knees and you gasp as he lifts your dress up.
You're exposed to him now, your pussy right in front of his face and nervousness washes over you but Hyunjin looks at you with a kind of fascination, his eyes shiny and lips parted, a blush on his cheeks.
"My beautiful rose. You deserve to be worshipped."- he looks up at you almost hungrily, running his thumb on your folds, spreading your wetness to your clit and then pressing into it.
"Oh my god..."- you whimper, lifting up a little to let Hyunjin take off your panties as he puts his hands on them.
"I don't want anything in my way."- his voice is low as he grips the flimsy fabric and rips it apart making you gasp and jolt your hips towards him.
"Jinnie!"- you whine and he chuckles before his lips attach to your inner thigh, kissing and biting on your flesh.
His hands roam around on your skin, touching any part he can reach.
You feel your arousal drip between your legs and you almost close them in embarassment again as Hyunjin looks at your core.
"Don't hide from me, love."- he says gently as he leans in, the sweet smell of you pulling him in and trapping him between your legs.
"Mm."- he whines as he kisses your clit, the tip of his tongue darting out to give it little licks.
"Ah..."- you moan, gripping at the counter.
You feel sensitive and even the little touches drive you crazy, knowing it's him, your sweet Hyunjin whom you're giving yourself to, it's him that's drinking your sweet nectar as he slides his tongue between your folds.
As soon as he tastes you, all of his senses wake up and he grips at your thighs, digging his nails in as he pushes his tongue into you, his nose pressed against your clit.
Hyunjin thinks he had never tasted something so sweet and he never wants to stop tasting you so he laps at you greedily, moaning into your core and sending vibrations through your whole body.
You moan, letting go of every doubt and thought that tortured you, giving into the pleasure your lover's bringing you.
Seeing him chase your taste so desperately as you look down drives you feral.
His eyes are closed in pure bliss as he fucks you with his tongue, pushing in as deep as he can, to give you as much as he could and not let any drop of your sweet juice go to waste, your fingers lace in his hair and you grip.
Hyunjin whines into you, eyes fluttering open as he looks up at you hazily, his lips and tongue are perfect against you as he makes out with your pussy, his stare now unwavering.
It's too much and your legs start shaking as he gives it his all, tongue moving in all directions and lapping at you greedily, you push his head into you, gripping his hair harshly and that seems to spur him on even more.
You're pretty sure that if anyone passes by your shop, they could hear your moans ringing out between all the delicate flowers that surround the two of you, enthralled in each other and not caring about the world around you.
The tide rises high as your whole body shakes like a leaf in the wind and Hyunjin's name tumbles out of your lips so sweetly as the fireworks explode inside your core, spreading through your whole being as you drip onto his lips and chin.
"Oh my god."- you whine as he licks at you, catching every single sweet drop.
Hyunjin gives one last kiss to your folds before he leans back on his feet, looking up at you as he licks his lips.
You're stunned for a moment before you start giggling as he stands up and runs a hand through his hair.
His hands cup your cheeks as he leans in and kisses you, making you taste yourself on his lips.
Both of you giggle as your arms wrap around each other, holding gingerly and tightly.
"Thank you."- you whisper, your nose buried in his hair as he leans on you.
"You don't have to thank me for that, love. It was my pleasure."- Hyunjin looks at you.
"W-what about you?"- you ask, wanting to worship his precious body too.
"Don't worry about that right now."- he smiles at you sweetly, caressing your face.
You're about to lean into a kiss again but a loud knock on the door of the shop scares the both of you, making you jolt away from each other.
Luckily, you are hidden from curious eyes by the heaps of flowers around the shop.
"Shit, that must be Evan! I didn't even finish the bouquet!"- you panic, and Hyunjin gently grabs your hands.
"It's okay, you go freshen up and I'll tell him that he can come back in like twenty minutes?"- Hyunjin asks.
"Okay, sure."- you nod and quickly make your way to the bathroom, tossing your torn panties in the trash.
You splash your face with water and your whole body feels tingly again as you think about what happened just moments ago.
You can hear muffled voices talking and then Evan leaving so you make your way back into the shop.
"Is everything okay?"- you ask and Hyunjin nods with a smile.
"He said he has to go grocery shopping anyways so he'll be back when he's done."
"Alright, well I have to finish the bouquet... without any panties."- you narrow your eyes at him and he laughs cheekily as he steps behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you stand at the counter, blushing and hands trembling for a moment when you pick up the flowers.
"You don't need them."- Hyunjin smirks and moves your hair to one side so he can attach his lips to your neck.
"You're just gonna distract me now while I work, will you?"- you whine playfully as Hyunjin presses his body into yours, trapping you between the counter and himself, his arms tight around you and lips gentle against your skin.
"Sorry, can't help my self."- he noses your skin, kissing you again before he releases you.
"I can see that."- you chuckle as your heart keeps skipping beats.
"Okay, I won't bother you, I'll be in my corner, painting."- he wiggles his eyebrows making you chuckle.
As the two of you get into your tasks at hand, comfortable silence once again envelops the shop, one rose put aside for you to take home and cherish.
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Even as the sun starts setting down, Hyunjin and you have not spent a moment apart.
You've invited him over for dinner, which lately he's been spending at your house anyways, always staying the night after.
After a refreshing shower your body needed, you join Hyunjin in the kitchen.
"Oh, you've started on dinner already?"- you ask as you see him cutting up veggies.
"I'm not gonna leave all the work to you."- he smiles and you chuckle, kissing his cheek gently.
"I got it, you can go take a shower."- you tell him, caressing his hair.
"Are you saying that I stink?"- he narrows his eyes at you, feigning hurt.
"Just a lil' bit."- you tease, squinting your eyes.
Hyunjin gasps dramatically at you.
"Your words are hurting me."- he shakes his head, disappointment on his face. "Piercing my heart."
"Mhm, I'm sure they are."- you roll your eyes and he chuckles.
"Fine, I'll be quick."- he says with a grin, kissing you before he leaves.
And he is quick, not even gone for ten minutes before he emerges back into the kitchen, his hair still damp.
"Aw."- you giggle and grab his face, squishing his cheeks and making his lips pop.
"What is it now?"- he mutters.
"You're adorable, Jinnie."- you say and give him a quick peck before smushing his cheeks a little.
He whines but lets you do it.
"I think that's you."- he says when you release him and you giggle, giving him a sweet kiss.
You finish dinner together and eat out in the garden, reveling in the fresh evening air.
You even find a bottle of wine for the two of you to share and when it gets chilly, you move inside to your couch.
Your body is buzzing with the alcohol, and the warmness radiating from Hyunjin's body next to yours, the feeling of his tongue inside you earlier today that you can't stop thinking about, it all escalate into a feeling of desire.
Some light music plays in the background as your head is leaned on his chest, and you drown in him.
His arms are wrapped around you, gently playing with your hair and running his fingertips on your skin.
You lift your head up a little to look at him, your hand sliding from his chest down to his stomach and you feel him quiver under your touch.
Hyunjin looks at you with eyes glazed over and lips parted and you lean in, burying your face in his neck.
Hyunjin inhales sharply, his head falling back to give you all the access you need as you kiss his soft skin.
Your lips dance on his neck, fingertips itching closer to the waistband of his pants, his hand grips at your arm as you sink your teeth into him.
Leaving a blossoming mark in the shape of a purple flower as he did to you, proof of your love appearing on his skin as you fumble with the button of his jeans.
"Baby."- Hyunjin chuckles as he takes your hand, stopping you from your intent.
You look up at him with big eyes and he swoons.
"Maybe we should go to your room?"- he asks.
"Later. I wanna return the favor from today first."- you smirk a little and you can see the lust flashing in his eyes.
"You don't have to."- he says, but you know he wants to, you can hear it in his voice and there's an evident bulge straining against the fabric of his jeans.
"I want to."- the way you say it makes him shiver and he smirks hazily at you as he grabs your hips and swiftly pulls you into his lap, your core right against his.
You almost crumble when you feel it pressed against you, all hot and hard and Hyunjin whines when he feels you against him, guiding your hips to make you grind on him.
"Ah, fuck!"- he throws his head back as you slide against him, feeling him twitch in his pants.
Your pussy drips and clenches around nothing as you grab at him and touch him everywhere, sliding your hands on his chest, over his nipples to his waist and stomach, all the way back up to his neck.
Hyunjin thinks he may have died and gone to heaven with you on top of him, even if he still didn't get to feel you completely yet.
He doesn't know how he'll manage to hold back once he's inside you and the thought makes him grunt lowly as he pulls you over his clothed cock harder.
"H-Hyunjin."- you whimper. "L-let me please you."
"Fuck, okay."- he groans, his head falling back again as he releases your hips.
Your fingers end up on his shirt, the first button is the hardest to open, constricting him, all of his clothes are suffocating him in this moment and he needs you to bring him release.
You slowly start unbuttoning his shirt as he breathes heavily, your hands tremble a little as he stares at you intently, drinking you in.
Your fingertips grazing against his soft skin with each button you open send shivers up Hyunjin's spine and he leans into your touch.
Slowly you get to the last one and he lets out a sigh of relief as you open the shirt up like it was paper wrapping up a gift made only for you to enjoy.
Your hands are on his chest instantly, fingers exploring his skin as he looks at you in pure infatuation, giving his body to you to do as you please.
Hyunjin has never felt like this with anyone he's been with before, never felt this much passion with just your hands on his skin. You lean in to leave kisses on his collarbone, your fingers finding his nipples as you play with them and arouse them.
"Ahh, ah, y/n..."- Hyunjin keeps moaning, lifting his hips up towards you as you kiss him, tongue darting out to taste his skin and lick at his sensitive nipples.
He moans loudly, shivering and gripping at the cover on the couch beneath him.
How are you driving him so crazy?
Your hands run down his waist and stomach as you keep going lower, now leaving kisses where your hands have been, only to finally open the button you were fumbling with before.
Hyunjin whines and you slide down on your knees.
He looks at you as you pull down his zipper with a lustful look on your face. He opens his legs more to give you more space and lifts up his hips to let you slide his pants down.
You pull them off as he lifts his legs awkwardly making the both of you laugh at his antics.
His smile gets replaced with a moan as you press your palm on the bulge in his boxers.
"Love, please, stop teasing me."- he whines and you can feel him throb under your hand.
You smirk and start sliding your hand on his length, feeling how big he is and your mouth waters, your core gushing with arousal.
There's a patch of wetness forming on his boxers as you play with his clothed cock.
"You're really gonna make me beg, aren't you?"- Hyunjin whines with a lopsided grin.
"Just a little bit."- you smirk.
"Please, touch me darling, please."- he gives in quickly, his voice sounding desperate, making you snicker as you hook your fingers in his boxers.
You finally slide them down, freeing his cock as it slaps against his stomach, hard and heavy with a prominent vein on it, the tip red and oozing with pre-cum.
You want to devour him whole, your pussy clenching around nothing again as you press your thighs together to find some kind of relief.
Your hand wraps up around the base of his cock, and you lean in, tongue darting out to catch a bead of salty pre-cum before you put your tongue against him, licking at him slowly and tasting him.
Hyunjin gasps as he looks at you, nails digging into the couch as you wrap your pretty lips around his head. You start gently sucking on it, tongue working his sensitive underside as your fingertips run on his length, tracing his vein.
"Mm, my love."- Hyunjin moans lowly, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair gently as he keeps you in place.
Your eyes flutter as you take more of him in, sliding down slowly, your hand working the rest of his length teasingly.
You're convinced that you won't be able to take all of him in but you will make sure you try because you want to make him feel as good as he made you feel.
"Ah, more please."- Hyunjin begs, his legs trembling for a second as you lean down more and cup his balls with your free hand.
"Oh, god."- he whines, his head falling back and hips lifting up, pushing more of his cock inside you.
You manage to hold in your gag reflex as you keep sliding down and take as much as you can.
Hyunjin grips your hair making you whimper around him and he looks at you in slight panic, not wanting to hurt you but you look at him hazily as you start bobbing your head up and down, your hand working the rest, and the other gently squeezing his balls.
"Ah fuck, love! Just like that."- Hyunjin groans, his hips lifting up involuntarily, wanting to bury himself in your mouth to the hilt, until your nose ends up buried in his pubes.
He pushes your head down a little and you gag, your eyes watering but you keep going, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time you slide down.
"Oh, I'm sorry-" - he starts but you moan around him, bobbing your head faster and gagging around him again as you force your head lower.
"Y/n- fuck!"- Hyunjin curses again, slowly losing himself as he pulls on your hair and presses you down harshly, making you swallow him whole, your nose in his pubic hair.
You gag against him and grip at his thighs so he lets you lift up.
"Shit, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"- Hyunjin looks genuinely panicked and you quickly shake your head.
"It's fine, lover. I just wasn't ready. You can do it again, I liked it."- you smirk and he chuckles, relief and disbelief painted on his face.
"Oh, my sweet girl is dirty, hm?"- he smirks back at you as he caresses your face.
"You think?"- you tease before you take him in your mouth again, making him whine and any sentence he was going to retort with died on his tongue as only your name spilled from between his lips.
You give it your all, letting him take the lead mostly as he guides your head down, fingers tangled in your hair again.
Hyunjin's legs shake as he approaches his high, his hips jerking up into your mouth, making you gag on him repeatedly as tears slide down your cheeks and he holds your hair as he moans and praises you.
"Ah, love you're so good to me. Take me so well."- his voice is strained and whiny as he barely holds it in.
"You're gonna make me cum, ah!"- he moans loudly as his cock twitches in your mouth and your eyes roll back as he fucks up into you.
You grip his thighs and let him use you, Hyunjin completely loses his mind and all he can think of is your warm mouth and pretty lips wrapped around him, taking him in so deep and he spasms and explodes inside you, painting your throat white.
You swallow instantly, welcoming his taste as you keep milking him dry, taking every drop he gives you.
"Shit, oh shit..."- Hyunjin breathes hard as you finally release him with a pop and chuckle at him.
"Come here."- he says between breaths and you giggle again before sitting in his lap.
He grabs your face gently and looks at you like you've hung all the stars in the sky.
He kisses you slowly and passionately, not caring about the taste of his release on your tongue.
"You're amazing, darling."- he smiles as you part.
You chuckle before biting on your lip.
"I need you, Jinnie."- you whisper and he smiles at you sweetly.
"Let me take you to your room, hm?"- he asks and you nod.
The two of you make your way to your room clumsily, all giddy and high on each other, exchanging kisses all the way there, bumping into walls and furniture.
Clothes gets thrown on the way there as Hyunjin slides your shirt and pants off, leaving you only in your panties and him naked after he slid off his shirt that was barely hanging onto his shoulders earlier.
Hyunjin lays you down carefully, admiring you as his eyes roam all over your frame.
"My beautiful goddess, made just for me."- he murmurs, his hands on your breasts as he traces them, down to your waist and stomach, to your hips and thighs, your calves and your feet, and then back all the way up to your face.
"Is that right?"- he whispers and you nod.
"Just for you, Jinnie."- you whine quietly as he leans down and kisses your lips, more passionate than ever before, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and tongue pushed in forcefully opening your lips up.
You moan into the kiss, your back arching into him, nipples grazing against his skin and Hyunjin grunts on your lips, his hands sliding down to your panties as he slowly takes them off and spreads your legs.
He kisses you fervently, his hands coming up to cup your breasts and massage them.
You arch into his touch, your eyes glazed over with so much lust and love as you look into his when he leans back and he looks at you like you're the most precious thing he has ever seen.
His fingers play with your nipples and he kisses you again, addicted to your lips and your taste, kissing you until both your lips are red and swollen from all the love exchanged between you.
His hand slides down between your legs as he kisses your collarbone, down to the valley of your breast and he looks up at you.
You give him a sweet smile and that's all he needs before he wraps his plump lips around your aroused nipple and starts sucking gently, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves and slowly circling it.
"J-Jinnie..."- you whimper, your hands lifting up to grab at him and find purchase on his strong shoulders as your nails dig into his skin, and you're losing your mind over his touches.
Hyunjin sucks on your nipple harder, his left hand squeezing your other breast as his right plays with your pussy, fingertips gently spreading your wetness all over your folds.
You spread your legs as much as you can, giving yourself to him and he lifts up and looks at you.
"My flower, can I?"- Hyunjin bites on his lip, his eyes lustful and hungry but still filled with affection as he presses his fingertips on your entrance.
"Yes, please."- you whimper quietly, craving to have him deep inside you.
Hyunjin gently pushes his fingers, your wetness helping them slide all the way in as your eyes flutter and you whimper at the feeling.
He slowly moves them inside you and you whine, lifting your hips up to meet his movements.
"Ah, Hyunjin."- you moan his name and his eyes narrow as he looks at you laid under him, shaking in desire only for him.
"My love."- he curls his fingers to find your sensitive spot and you whimper loudly when he touches it.
"Ah, there, please!"- you moan as Hyunjin speeds up a little, pressing right where it feels the best.
He feels as if he'll go crazy, looking at you as you beg him for more, beg him to go faster and harder. He obliges to every single wish you moan out, fucking his fingers into you harshly, abusing the gummy spot inside you, setting a brutal pace with his hand.
You feel an enormous pressure building inside you and you can't control your legs as they keep spasming in sweet torture that his fingers are bringing you, his lips hot on your skin wherever they can reach, leaving a trace of deep, burning passion.
Hyunjin looks at your face, twisted in pleasure, your body shaking, breasts quivering, a thin sheen of sweet making your skin glow, your moans the prettiest music to his ears that no composer could ever write and he growls lowly, something animalistic waking up inside him as he pistons his fingers inside you.
You keep moaning his name over and over again like it's the only thing you know and your toes curl as you grip the sheets beneath you, and Hyunjin feels you clenching around his fingers.
Just as you see white behind your eyelids, Hyunjin groans at the sight of you, fisting his cock as you squirt on his hand and yourself, his fingers working your clit and helping you through your high.
"Ah- too much!"- you whimper as he keeps flicking your clit.
Hyunjin gives his cock a squeeze as it throbs in his hand and he hovers over you.
You start feeling self-conscious suddenly, the sounds you were making and the way you looked while he fingered you made you feel embarassed so you cover your face with your hands.
"What's wrong, love?"- Hyunjin sounds concerned immediately.
"Sorry, I'm just a bit embarassed."- your voice is muffled behind your palms and Hyunjin giggles.
"Nothing to be embarassed about."- he starts as he removes your hands from your face tenderly. "You're beautiful, my muse. I could cum while just watching you enjoy."- he leans down closer to you, his heavy cock on your thigh and you bite on your lip as his arms cage you.
"I- um- I don't have any condoms here."- you say quietly, searching his face.
"Me either. We don't have to-"
"I want you."- you stop him before he can say anything else.
"I want you too, my flower."- he caresses your head.
"Take me, Hyunjin. Please. Make me yours."- you pull him closer and his eyes flutter as he looks at you.
"You don't have to beg, my love."- he leans down to kiss you, tender and sweet, a kiss full of love as you feel him press his tip against you.
You whimper against his soft lips as he slowly runs the tip on your wet folds, touching your already swollen clit.
"Mm, Jinnie."- you moan, arms wrapping around him and he can't wait anymore.
He finally sinks in, slowly, savoring every little gasp of pleasure that leaves your lips, every flutter of your eyelashes, every unspoken word of love in your eyes.
You hold onto him tightly as he spreads you apart, burying his length deep inside you and making a home for himself inside your warmness.
"So full!"- you whimper when he moves slowly.
"My sweet flower feels full, huh?"- Hyunjin smirks, gently grabbing your wrists and putting your arms on either sides of your head.
"Y-yes."- you whimper again as he slides his cock between your velvety walls, taking out just a little bit of his length but pushing deeper with every motion.
"You feel so good love, so perfect. So warm and tight, made to take me."- Hyunjin leans his cheek on yours, whispering in your ear as he holds your wrists down and finds a slow but steady pace that has you falling apart under him.
Your legs tighten around him as he makes sweet love to you, your hips lifting up into his, crashing against each other like waves against the shore.
"You feel so good too Jinnie, fill me up so right."- you praise him back and feel his hips stutter just a little as he grips on your wrists.
"Ah, flower."- he moans in your ear, lips attaching to your neck, kissing, licking and biting.
He lets go of your wrists, his hands roaming on your body, mapping you out so he can paint every detail of you with his eyes closed.
Your arms wrap around him, pulling him in closer as your hand tangles in his hair and Hyunjin kisses you sloppily, teeth clashing and tongues fighting passionately, as you both moan into each other's mouths.
You're completely lost in each other, wanting to get closer, deeper, together like you're becoming one person, the sound of his hips smacking on yours coupled with your sounds of pleasure and words of praise echo in your room, filling the space up with love.
A bead of sweat rolls of Hyunjin's face and hits your cheek, both of you are covered in sweat, and your arousal has coated you in so much wetness that everything is slippery between you, coaxing Hyunjin to fuck you faster.
His hips hit you harder, the tip of his cock fucking into your cervix every time he brings his weight down on you, bringing you a pinch of sweet pain that turns into even more pleasure.
"More, faster, please!"- you whimper, grabbing at him, nails digging into his back, leaving red imprints on his hot skin.
"Fuck, love, I won't be able to hold back."- Hyunjin whines as he grips your hips and fucks you faster.
"Don't hold back, don't hold back!"- you moan breathlessly, throwing your head back in ecstasy.
"You want me to give you all my love, hm?"- Hyunjin grunts and you nod quickly, your nails harsh in his skin, making his cock throb inside you.
You feel it and clench around him, his eyes roll back before he looks at you darkly.
"Yes, Jinnie, give me all your love."
Hyunjin grips your hips harder, fucking into you fervently, desperately like an animal, his body shuddering harshly and making you lose your mind instantly as your orgasm builds up.
"Take it, take all my love."- he grunts as he fucks you harder, making your legs shake for the nth time today.
You moan loudly, clenching around his length as you explode and Hyunjin quickly pulls out, jerking off against your clit as your arousal drips on his cock. He groans deeply as his cock spasms, ropes of hot white cum painting your pussy and navel.
Hyunjin shakes above you as he releases himself and hovers over you.
"F-fuck."- he gasps as the both of you breathe hard and he lays down on you, not caring about all the stickiness between you.
Your arms wrap around him as the two of you lay in silence, trying to catch your breath.
You float in space for those few minutes, feeling like only the two of you exist in a state of pure bliss.
The air in the room is still hot, and it smells of sex but to the two of you it's all sweet and lovely when you know you've just spent more than an hour worshipping each other.
Hyunjin lifts up suddenly, hands on your face as he looks at you with the sweetest smile and you return the same smile to him, your soul a mirror to his own.
He leans down and kisses you so tenderly, like you're being kissed by the petals of a flower.
He rubs his nose on yours and kisses your cheek before he looks at you, the same smile still on his face.
"How do you feel, my love?"- he asks quietly, fingertips caressing your damp skin and moving the hair that stuck to your forehead.
You reach up and do the same for him and his eyes flutter shut as he exhales happily.
"I feel blissfully happy."- you answer. "You?"
"Me too."- he says as he opens his eyes. "It feels perfect. It feels right to be here with you in this moment."- Hyunjin adds, his hands caressing you.
"I agree. Though, I wouldn't mind a shower."- you smirk and he chuckles, pecking your lips.
You giggle as he finally peels away from you, the stickiness making you scrunch your nose up as you slowly sit up.
Hyunjin reaches his hand to you and you take it, the two of you practically skipping naked to your bathroom.
The moment that the warm water hits your body, you feel relief, and the small space of your shower is filled with giggles of two lovers infatuated with each other.
Hyunjin can't keep his hands off of you and you're no different, reaching out to touch him without even thinking about it.
"Let me wash your hair, love."- Hyunjin smiles and you agree, turning around as he grabs your bottle of shampoo.
"Nice ass."- he pinches your flesh with a smirk and you chuckle, smacking him as he laughs.
"Shut up."- you add and he keeps giggling.
He washes your hair and you wash his, and you kiss and kiss all the time like you can't get enough of each other.
Even as you walk out of the shower and dry off, you're still attached to each other, kissing every moment you can.
And that night when you lay in bed after dinner and the silly time you had while changing bedsheets and joking around, Hyunjin realizes that this is exactly what he craved, what he needed the most, what he was made for.
He was made to love you, he was sure of that, and you were made to be loved by him, worshipped and adored like the most precious and rare flower.
What he couldn't find all this time in the city, he had found on a little island, that something which was unreachable to him was now in his arms.
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Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin
156 notes · View notes
daenysx · 2 months ago
Note
respectfully i need more dad!aemond, you write it so well and it just makes me so so happy 🫶🏻🥹
like i’m just imagining him with his babies as they grow older, like maybe something with them starting school and reader and aemond have to help them with projects etc ,,, just any domestic fluffy ideas you have 🤍
thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3333 requests are open for dad!aemond
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader , tooth rotting fluff
"lyx, you're doing it wrong."
if there's one thing alyssa targaryen loves to do, it's being a big sister. she's doing a pretty good job on it, too, even when sometimes she's being a bit annoying to aelyx. she has the words of her mom and charms of her dad. an unbeatable duo.
"no." aelyx says. "i want that picture."
"okay, but you're spreading the glue wrong." alyssa says. "it's gonna stick to your fingers now."
the scene aemond witnesses when he comes into the room is exactly like this. his babies, trying to make a school project on their own, dealing with many papers and crayons and glue. alyssa seems like she's bored of it all but aelyx is patient. his tiny tongue sticking up to the corner of his mouth as he tries to press the picture on another paper.
"daddy!"
aemond smiles, leaving his jacket on the couch as he comes closer. "hi, little love." he hugs alyssa first. "hey, buddy." aelyx doesn't give him any attention other than a smile, boy has got things to do. "what's this?" aemond asks.
"it's for aelyx's class tomorrow." his girl explains. "we need to pick pictures and glue them here."
"like a collage?"
"what's a collage?"
turns out it's exactly like a collage. aemond looks at the pictures briefly before watching his son. his tiny hands try to spread the glue nicely.
"would you like some help?" aemond asks, gently. aelyx looks at his dad with big eyes. he looks like he wants to do it by himself but the glue is hard to deal with alone.
"can you just spread the glue?" alyssa asks with convincing smile that always works for her daddy. "we can do the rest."
"of course, baby." aemond rolls up his sleeves before reaching for aelyx's hand. "i'll just hold your hands, you're doing the rest. okay, buddy?"
aelyx nods, his silver curls shaking with the motion. aemond gently holds his son's tiny hands to lead him as he places the glue on the paper.
"are you almost done?" you ask them as you walk inside. you have a little kitchen towel to dry up your hands. "it's dinner time."
you're cheerful every time you see them do something together. watching aemond take care of kids is always a delight and you get to see him doing it a lot more lately, now that they go to school and come back with lots of fun projects to do.
aelyx looks at you as he sees you stand by the door, when aemond finishes with the glue he's quick to run to your arms. aemond sometimes complains he's such a mommy's boy, but he also knows alyssa is definitely enamored by him. it's the teasing part he loves the most, though.
"i'm taking my boy to kitchen, come meet us when you finish!" you say happily, kissing aelyx's chubby cheek.
"come here, baby." aemond extends a hand to alyssa. "let's pick up some pictures."
"that looks nice." she says, her small finger on paper. "and this one."
"i guess we're gonna be done after them, huh?"
"yes, daddy."
a few minutes are spent in silence as they both concentrate on their work. at the end, everything looks nice. alyssa has a satisfied smile on her lips.
"did we do good?" aemond asks, stealing a quick kiss from her cheek.
she nods, wrapping an arm around his neck. "thank you, daddy."
"you're welcome, little love." aemond gets a kiss on his cheek this time. "let's go have dinner."
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sh0esuke · 26 days ago
Text
" Frustration " - ENG VERSION.
Starring : Joshua Washington.
Summary : After a few months spent studying in the city, the Washington siblings can finally rest at the Washington Logde located in Blackwood Mountain, this time, the getaway being quite small, they only bring one person with them. The beginning of the weekend starts, and the guest seems to have many catch-up to do with Josh. Without their parents in sight, away from the city, they only have one thing in mind.
Warning : sexual content.
ENG : PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORKS. If you want to translate it, ask me first then we can talk about it. If you want to find me on Wattpad, my account is in my bio, this is the ONLY ONE i have. FR : MERCI DE NE PAS VOLER MES OS. Si vous avez envie de les traduire, merci de me demander la permission avant. Si vous voulez me retrouver sur Wattpad, j'ai un lien dans ma bio, c'est mon SEUL compte.
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 𝟑,𝟎𝟏𝟗.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are heavily appreciated. All types of support are ! Thank you !! <3
A/N : English isn't my first language so I apologise if you find any incoherence/mistake in this work. I tried my best to translate it as I know not many french people read fanfiction about Until Dawn, I wanted to see if i was able to write in English and also maybe find other fans of Josh on this app. I truly hope you will enjoy my work, feel free to criticise anything, I'm willing to learn and get better. Thank you !!
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“Are you going to close that window or what ? I’m freezing !” 
I bring my hands to my arms, rubbing them generously in order to make my goosebumps disappear. A huge storm is blowing outside, the shutters can’t hold straight, they won’t stop slamming against the windows, and a few snowflakes manage to enter the room and melt on the floor. Even with a blanket on my shoulders and my legs warming up under the sheets, I'm still freezing to death. My whole body is shaking. My toes are iced. Winter has always been rough here, in the mountains, makes me wonder why Josh’s family has made it a tradition to come here every now and then. It must be a habit for him, he grew up there the cold doesn’t do anything to him anymore. But, unfortunately for him, not me. I’m cold and I can’t take it anymore. I await only one thing; for him to close this damn window and join me in bed.
“Give me two sec’ babe, I'm trying to put on some ambiance. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to see us while we wrestle between the sheets, if you know what I mean. Well, you know.” he jokes. 
“You won’t wrestle anything if you waste any more time.” 
“What ? You’re breaking my heart.. I did all I could to make you happy and It’s a little storm that’s going to come between us ?” 
He rotates the window handle. He looks at me questioningly, pretending to be hurt. 
“The next house is miles away !” I curse. “Hurry up !” 
A smirk takes place on his lips. He approaches the bed, take off his jacket and climb on it before leaning in my direction. Our faces are getting closer. Using my elbows to lean forward, I kiss his mouth. The blanket falls from my shoulder, sags onto the pillow which makes a chill run up my spine –or it’s because Josh’s hand is grabbing my neck, fondling my jaw with his thumb. My stomach wiggles. I close my eyes and let him take over me. 
Josh kisses me. 
The day was tough, between the walk here in the mountains, cleaning up the place, Josh, Hannah, me and Beth have worked hard in order to make this house a home. The rest of the year it collects dust, we had a lot to do.
I thought about it the whole day. Me, him, finally alone in his bedroom, I dreamed of it between two strokes of feather duster, three snow fights and a non-satisfying meal. So, in this moment, having him against me, his hands on my body and his lips on mine, it’s a fantastic sensation. I need him closer. I want to entirely lose myself to him, forget our exams, the pressure of an uncertain future and our parents’ expectations. Everything falls apart while he is sliding the sheets off my legs to take place between them and while he pushes his tongue in my mouth. I shiver. My fingertips are pulsating, my heart is racing and I'm losing my mind. A fire is burning inside of me, which makes me forget about any kind of coldness and which gives me the irresistible desire to let go. 
Josh's lips are tender. They’re thin and unctuous. I’ve always loved touching them, with mine or my finger, other parts of my body. I love feeling them against my skin. They give me the impression of flying. It’s as simple as that : they touch me and nothing else matters, everything disappears only to leave nothing but me and him. 
My hands reach his shoulders then his hair. His strands of hair are getting tangled as I caress them. Our lips keep meeting as he’s standing above me, I try to breathe between kisses. His tongue touches mine. I can’t help but whimper. The humid noises escaping our exchange are making me feel funny. I can’t stop. I feel him all around me, everything that my legs touch, my arms, everything my ears hear, my nostril smell. Everything loops back to him. 
I’m still cold but his arms wrapped around my waist and his torso crushing my chest are the reason I'm sinking into this burning bubble, leaving me sweating, craving more. I don’t know how but Josh –who was wallowing on the windows a few minutes ago, warms me. His nose blows against my skin. He growls and kisses my lips. 
When I suddenly get a grip on his neck and open my eyes, I hear the door of the bedroom creaking. Josh appears lost, gets away from me.
"Joshua ? We’re not interrupting anything ?” says a voice.
We turn our head, jump out of surprise. 
“Beth ? Hannah ?” 
Josh breaks away from me to get off the bed, swallowing with embarrassment. I can’t blame him. At the same time his sisters enter the room, both of them have a blanket on their shoulders and are holding bowls of food. Shaken up, I pull a strand of my hair behind my ear then clear my throat. It’s not enough to make the knot I feel there disappear though. 
“What are you- why are you not asleep yet, hum ?” asks Josh. 
“It’s too early.” declares Beth. 
“We wanted to watch a movie. Are you guys coming ?” says Hannah. 
Sitting cross-legged, I wave my hand at them, to which they enthusiastically respond. Hannah smiles at me. 
“We were-” Josh looks at me. “We were a bit busy.” 
"You’ll have all the time in the world to make out later, come on ! We’re going to put a horror movie and we’re too scared to watch it alone.” 
“You have to protect us !” insists Hannah. 
Josh needs nothing less to be convinced, I already know it because he’d never dare say no to his sisters, they are way too precious to him. But the way he stares at me makes me understand he’s afraid I’ll be frustrated. He knows I've been waiting for this. Waiting to get my hands on him. Despite the affection I have for my two friends, I have not come in this desolated place to not enjoy some alone-time with my boyfriend. The whole year, I thought about it. With our studies, our parents, we barely had the time to hang out. This night was supposed to fix it.
Unfortunately, I think I will have to wait a bit more. 
My feet fall onto the ground as I get up and get closer to my boyfriend. He seems out of space, looking at me with big eyes, I don’t know if he’s still with us. However, the moment I take his hand into mine, he comes back to us. 
“Let’s go, Josh.” 
He frowns his eyebrows. 
“You sure ?” he asks. 
“Mhh. Your sisters are waiting, come on.” 
He moves effortlessly, I just have to pull him a little to make him follow Beth and Hannah. They keep the door open for us, giggling happily, I smile back at them. Leaving without us, I hear them rushing to the corridor, almost running down the stairs leading to the living room. Beth yells, her sister laughs. Their enthusiasm warms my heart, I truly didn’t have the heart to ask Josh to stay with me, they are way too adorable. I also believe that since we are not alone, it would be incredibly foolish to stay on our own the whole time we’re here. 
Hannah and Beth would’ve understood. They know Josh and I are together –it's been a few years since; I can’t remember what was my life before him- they wouldn’t have minded. It won’t be the last time we leave a place to make love. Nevertheless, it’s not something I like to do; keeping their big brother away from them. Not while knowing he would move heaven and earth for them. I would rather please them and wait a little bit, it’s not like Josh is going to disappear : we have the rest of our lives to make out et have fun under the sheets. I’m not saying it’s not bothering me –of course it is, but I know what choice to make under such circumstances. We will still spend the night together, it’s a win-win situation.
I glue myself to Josh, look up to him. It's hard to see his face when it’s so dark in the house, but I can feel his fingers tightening around mine and his body heat caressing my skin. He’s here, he’s letting me know. 
“I can’t believe I missed the best sex of my life.” he curses, makes me laugh. 
"The best ?” 
"Babe, I promise I had a feeling. Have you seen me ? I even put this little ambiance, made you warm up real’ good.” 
“Dumbass, it was just a window...” 
“Ah ha,” he cuts me. “I saw how you reacted, you’ve never done this before, you can’t lie to me.” 
“What ? You think you’re getting better or something ?” 
"I think...? I am !” 
Rolling my eyes, I hit his chest. 
“Don’t be too full of yourself, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other.” 
"And ? Doesn’t mean what I did was for nothing. You would be surprised to see what a little attention to detail can do.” 
"You learned that in a porno ?” I asked curiously, about to scoff but still with a mocking smile on my lips. 
"Ah ha, very funny, babe.” 
Josh kisses my cheek. 
“You’re the only girl I want to see finish. I tested a theory which came true, that’s all.” 
“That’s actually so sweet I could almost think it was a compliment.” 
We arrive at the stairs. Just like Hannah and Beth did previously, we go down them. From here I can see the light of the television, and hear my friends bickering about what film they want to see, I believe they can’t pick between two films. 
Josh pulls my hand. I stop walking. 
It’s sweet, the way he draws me towards him, pressing me in the center of his arms. I melt under his touch. His body against mine, his beautiful dark eyes fulling staring at me. The natural light going through the shutters make one part of his face glow with a blueish tone, the rest is black, but it’s enough for me. I know every part of him. Spiritually, physically, I don’t need light to find him. It’s hard to believe. That all of this is real, I mean. This universe is big, I’m somebody among billions of other beings, but it’s still given to me. I'm lucky enough to be with the person that I love, to be loved in return and to enjoy fully all of this, I become aware of this the moment his skin encounters mine. Like a strike of lightning. It's too good to be true. Josh and me... It’s.. It's everything I've dreamt of. He’s with me, touching me, caressing me, kissing me. His lips encounter my cheek again as he’s leaning over me. 
I don’t know why he stopped us here, between the two stairs. He suddenly took me in his arms and is now leaving kisses all over my face. Coming from him, it’s almost too sweet. 
It’s only when he reaches my mouth that he dares to stop. He doesn’t go anywhere else. 
Josh kisses me with passion. 
Our lips meet, touch each other with such fondness, our saliva becomes one. While his hands are wrapped around my waist, mine are all over his face. I’m holding him. Eyes closes, I’m holding his head, savouring the taste of him. It’s not enough to satiate my thirst of him, but I can satisfy myself with this. 
The moment we break away from each other and our forehead comes in contact, I can’t help but giggle. 
“What’s so funny ?” asks Josh out of breath. 
I put my hands on his chest. 
Embarrassed, I look away. 
"Nothing... I’m starting to regret saying yes to your sisters, that’s all.” 
My heart is painful. It beats too fast. My stomach feels heavy. 
"Too late now, if we change our mind and go back I’m pretty sure Hannah will kill the both of us.” he jokes. 
"You think ?” 
"Wouldn’t be the first time she tried. Remember last Halloween when we slipped away ?” 
"Oh no... don’t remind me. Sam had to come save us.” 
Josh laughs. He touches slowly the top of my head before taking a step back. He is so pretty... I want to kiss him. I don’t even want to move. 
I’m fine here. 
Perfectly fine. 
“Josh, I-” 
I need to tell him those three words. However, I can’t, lost into his eyes, his gaze takes away every single word in my mouth. I hold onto him. Losing control. 
“You’re so regretting saying yes right now.” he mocks me. 
I’m suffocating. It’s hot. 
My body is still freezing. 
“Shut up.” I grumble. 
"Admit it, babe.” 
His snarky smile leaves me weak. With the palm of my hand I smack his chest and glare at him. He’s being real' annoying right now... Once he’s started, I fear nothing can stop him. 
"You love me so much you can’t spend five minutes without drooling all over me.” 
“Ah ! Says the one who kissed me. Between the two of us you’re worse.” 
“Me ?” he takes offense. 
I grab his hand, force him to walk. He’s shaking me up, I can’t look into his eyes any longer. 
"You literally begged me to go upstairs to f- ouch ! Did you just pinch me ?” 
"I said shut up.” I reply with a smirk. 
"You become violent when we don’t have sex ? That’s new.” 
Josh gets closer to me, I jump at the feeling of his lips brushing over my neck. He then whispers into my ear : 
"Looks like I'm going to have to fix this.” 
"Will you- Will you move...?” 
I try to get away from him but he’s not letting go of my hand. It ties me to him. I try to get it back but Josh is faster and grabs it again, he then intermingle our fingers and laughs. 
"Are you mad ? Come on, it was just a joke.” 
We continue our path down the stairs while still arguing, even after reaching the living room where Hannah and Beth are seated. One on the couch and the other on an armchair. Hannah waves her hand at us and points us to her sister who glares in our direction. I push Josh with a hit from my elbow, let him growl, and suffer on his own to get closer to his sisters. 
"Are you guys alright ?” asks Beth, worried. 
"Of course ! Why wouldn’t we ?” 
Between two whimpers of pain, Josh raises his thumb. 
"Everything’s good.” 
"See ? Everything’s good, he said.” I add. 
Hannah giggles. 
“You’re the worst.” 
“Come on, Joshua, you’re making your sisters wait, we gotta go, let’s go !” 
With all the strength in the world, I grab his wrist and bring him over. Josh keeps a hold on his stomach with his other hand, where I very gently hit him. He doesn’t fight me. He lets me install him on the couch, I go grab us a blanket, knowing it’s cold as winter in the living room, and come back to him in order to find a place in his arms. I’m almost jumping into him. It’s not the night I've dreamt of for the past few weeks but the idea of spending three hours into Josh’s arms doesn’t seems that bad to be honest, even if we’re not doing anything. My boyfriend receives me into his hands and snakes his arms around me, he says nothing the moment I cover mostly myself with the blanket. I even dare to bend my legs and put them over his thighs. 
“Are you comfortable, is it okay ?” says Hannah, the tv remote in her hand. 
"Amazing.” answers Josh, fully crushed, my arms around his neck. 
"What a fool..” says Beth, rolling her eyes. 
Hannah clicks on a bouton and the screens turns white, I hold my breath. 
Josh and his sisters are immediately getting into the movie, as for me, I have to get used to this scene. Not only this room or the house, but the Washington and the mere fact that this weekend will stay engraved in my memories for the next few years. Nobody moves. I look at them one by one. When comes my boyfriend’s turn, I can’t help but melt; my lips turn into a smile and my gaze softens. I touch the extremity of his jawline, then let my head rest against his : it’s not very comfy. I’m sure I won’t take me long before I start stretching out and find another position, but for now it’s all I want. Being close to Josh, it’s all I crave. 
From the corner of my eye, I see something. Something is moving. 
“Mhh ?” 
I almost stand up. 
What was that ? 
“Mhh ? What ?” worries Josh. 
He brings me closer to him, his head raised in my direction. 
“What ?” 
“What’s up ?” he whispers. 
I sit back. 
“Must’ve been my imagination, sorry.” I respond. 
Beth hits the armrest. 
“Shush !” 
Josh and I look at each other, I can’t help but smile. To be scolded like this is rather funny. Josh hugs me. He leaves me enough time to move to find a more comfortable spot while returning his attention to the TV. Having nothing else to do, I do the same. I squeeze my head on his shoulder, intoxicated by his presence, and observe the same thing as my three friends. From time-to-time, Beth and Hannah share their food with us, make the bowls pass from one person to another –pop-corn, chips- the movie is sprinkled with noises of chewing, small screams. And, sometimes, kisses. It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect. 
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yeoldenews · 4 months ago
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I don't know how much you think about it, but you wrote a post back in Mar 2020:
"A sincere request from someone who has spent her entire adult life wishing people had kept better records…In the coming weeks and months… RECORD WHAT IS HAPPENING."
That post got me to start properly journaling properly, after trying and failing when I was younger. A majority of it is 'just' day-to-day progress updates on my fiction writing, but there's a bit of stuff about my life, and some briefer stuff about the world beyond. Not a lot, but some. Four (and change) years, and my journal is just short of 186K words.
I remembered your post, seeing today's SCOTUS decisions. I remembered your post, and I remembered a line you'd written: "Are you scared to death? Write it down."
I just...I don't know. I just wanted you to know your post made an impact, and I don't know what the fuck is coming over the next week and month and year and decade, but...I'm writing shit down. I'm writing shit down, and it's all because of your post.
You have no idea how much this means to me, and how badly I needed to hear it this week - so thank you. Truly. I am genuinely moved, and so proud of you for your 186k words.
History is made up of the stories people decided to save - and the first step to making sure a story gets saved is writing it down.
I really, really hate writing. Like more than just about anything. I'm a chronic perfectionist, and it can take me a whole afternoon to finish a single paragraph I'm satisfied with. (I spent three days writing this response, and you don't even want to know how long I spend on some of the things I post.) So keeping a journal is not a task I'd ever felt the need to afflict myself with before the pandemic. When I made the post you referenced, my journaling habit was all of ten days old but, against all the odds, here I am over four years later having never (to my recollection) missed a single day.
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My daily records of what my cats are doing, and your day-to-day writing progress may not be extensively poured over by future scholars, but for only a few minutes of effort a day we now have recorded hundreds of stories.
And who knows what the people of the future might find fascinating. I'm sure the teenage girl in Philadelphia who smudged the letter she was writing in 1897 because a bee scared her would be absolutely baffled that thousands of people were still laughing about the incident 125 years later.
So much of history, and life in general, doesn't become clear until long after the fact. Historical records are full of people overreacting about events that ended up having very little significance in hindsight, and under-reacting about events they no had no idea were about to change the world. But being able to go back and see what people wrote in the moment, preserving their honest thoughts and hopes and fears, is about as close as you can get to time travel.
Maybe what we fear will come true and we're recording history, maybe we'll look back on what we wrote today and go "phew! that was a close one!", or maybe nothing will come of it at all - I pray it will be the last one, but, whatever the outcome, it's worth writing down.
(Also voting. Please, please vote.)
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sunglassesmish · 4 months ago
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(from this podcast episode): lou on his dad, therapy and crying:
“You know, in a lot of ways, I want to be different than how my dad was. My dad was, you know, he had his shortcomings as a dad. He was a great father, but as a dad, he wasn't, but you know, he's handicapped. So yeah, and, but through lots and lots and lots of therapy, I've come to realize that it's not him, it's not his fault.
He, according to, based on his history with his father, he, it was a world better. And no matter what I would do, if I was a father, I would get blamed for something anyways. So, you know, we'll see.
I'm not yet half satisfied as where I'm at in my career. I'm just going to keep trudging forward and we'll see what happens, but yeah, hopefully one day.”
“Therapy saved my life, 100%. And it's a lot of money, but it's also like training hamstrings when you're not expecting. Training hamstrings are goods.
You're paying all this money. And as a man, you're like, pay money, get something in return. But you don't get anything tactile in return.
But over time, I mean, I would be in a much, much worse place if it wasn't for the years that I spent in front of a counselor, just basically talking and even thinking days I didn't have anything to talk about. An hour goes by and we talked about so many different things. A huge proponent of therapy, huge proponent of self-help, huge proponent of using the gym as your outlet, and huge proponent also, Sean, here's one for you.”
“I, as an acting exercise, sometimes I cry during programming. A lot of this undercover boss, I watch a lot of Dr. Phil. So when I get teary-eyed, being a jacked dude myself, I really lean into it.
So if I start crying and I get teary-eyed, I just fucking wail, bro. Because it's, first of all, people seeing a grown jacked dude crying, and I was crying at my sister's fu- my sister’s funeral? - my sister's wedding, and I was all dolled up gushing. And people were like, they didn't know what to do.
They're like, whoa, this is weird. It's like a dinosaur, like a crying jacked dude. So when it comes to watching television programming, when I'm feeling that mode of tearing up, I start just fucking heaving, man, and getting it out and crying and feeling those emotions because they're real and they're sparked from something real.
And it really just lets your grip on everything that's hurting you or bothering you or stressing you out. It just eases that grip a little bit and you have no idea. And it pays off in dividends.”
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