#or edit my response in the future to actually make fucking sense

[swiftfootedachilles]

pls can you talk more about age regression mickey? i need it😭😭😭😭

anon i promised myself i would never talk about this subject on tumblr yet here we are

ok i have to preface this by saying a couple things for clarifications

i DO NOT fuck with sexualizing age regression or ageplay!!!!

that being said, somebody can age regress sometimes and still be a grown adult with dick and balls who has sex! but they are entirely separate from one another!

i dont really, like.... fully understand age regression, i guess? i dont understand the difference between age regression, age play, and just enjoying kid stuff(age dreaming?). like is it a specific headspace? is it a form of dissociation? how do you know if you're regressing or just pretending, or are those the same thing? my ignorance may show in my headcanons so sorry

my headcanons for mickey are based on my own experiences. so although i don't know anything about what i just listed above, i do know that personally i really like a lot of kid stuff and it definitely is because of my childhood trauma and my (assumed) autism. and obviously mickey has a lot of childhood trauma, and hes autistic imo. so that's really the only scope of reference i have for this 😭

autistic people are not inherently childish or lack certain skills just because they consume a lot of child media. anybody who enjoys kid stuff or age regresses is automatically doing that 24/7 and unable to exist in adult spaces. and even if they are like that, that's nobody's business but theirs. but obviously mickey doesn't do this 24/7, and i don't think he would enjoy doing it all the time anyway. autistic people like children's media because its usually created to have an easily understandable premise, visually stimulating, have very concise pacing, understandable character motivations, and conflicts are resolved efficiently. it's something straightforward to watch, read, or play when the world doesn't make any sense and overwhelms us

i do not view age regression/ageplay/age dreaming in this context as mickey having did/a little alter. most of the content ive seen about agereg seems to view it as a form of dissociation, and while it can be that, i think writers are doing this accidentally because they don't really understand how dissociation works. and again, this is just based on my experience and understanding, and i don't dissociate at all when i consume children's media. i just enjoy it that's really only how deep it goes i just like it lol

ive mentioned both of these many many times before but mickey has fidget toys and plushies. he especially uses chewelry/teethers, bike chain fidgets, mechanical fidgets, tangles, spinner rings, weighted blankets and plushies, and jellycat/squishables/aurora/douglas/plushie dreadful. he also has a color changing lamp with multiple brightness settings that he likes to sit by/stare at

he likes to draw and color. he doesn't read because he struggles with it and it's not relaxing at all to read. he eats "boring" tasting food for the texture, like freeze dried yogurt and puffed rice. ian has to watch him and redirect him when he eats otherwise he'll just keep eating and eating just to chew on something. he likes chewing gum but it hurts his jaw if he does it too much.

he rewatches a lot of shows from his childhood. ghostwriter, zoboomafoo, magic school bus, bill nye. he also saw a lot of older shows and movies because they were recorded on vhs tapes in their house, or they were reruns on their free-to-run tv. electric company, zoom, little audrey, romper room, felix the cat, speed racer, space ghost. he really likes to watch old westerns and gangster movies. it really just depends on how "small" hes feeling. he also likes bluey, avatar the last airbender, and a lot of the classic cartoon network shows. hes watched a lot of peppa pig but thats only because franny is obsessed and watches it every day. he shows freddie speed racer because he has a racecar/hotwheels obsession

when hes regressed, ian will not do couple-y thing with him. he won't kiss his mouth, talk about adult topics with him, touch him inappropriately, none of it. he doesnt want his role as a romantic and sexual partner to be equated to his role as caregiver

mickey doesnt need help using the bathroom or bathing beyond being reminded when to do it. he usually becomes nonverbal though. communicating doesn't really happen beyond a few words when he has to respond to ian. he also stims a lot more and generally is unmasked in this state. ian doesn't want to disturb him, but he also wants to use the chance to get mickey to do some new things while he's relaxed. he gets mickey to help him prepare dinner, pick out colors for house decor, takes him in public with his headphones (mickey usually hates wearing them in public because he thinks he looks stupid + he can't hear much around him). ian would take him more places like the zoo and museums, but it's usually too crowded and he knows it would sour the experience for mickey

mickey is overall much more.... soft and pliant in this state. he can definitely have a meltdown, but he's usually pretty chill as long as he's at home and doesn't have any errands to worry about

[waitmyturtles]

I have super little time to write the kind of extensive meta that I want to to CELEBRATE this FABULOUS episode 8 of Be My Favorite, so here’s more of a stream of consciousness edit of the notes I took during the episode, and prayers up that they all make sense as a whole.

This episode to me was about the start of Kawi EMBRACING THE PRESENT. To live with ACCOUNTABILITY AND RESPONSIBILITY. I really loved the recap at the end of 1/1, before Kawi holds the crystal ball. Kawi’s reflecting and getting a BETTER, MORE OBJECTIVE overview of the impact of changing the future, and how much his power can ACTUALLY change things.

He gave the diary to Pisaeng so that Pisaeng could understand if things were changing in Pisaeng’s life without context. In other words: he is beginning to take responsibility for someone else’s feelings.

Kawi is beginning to recognize that his INTENTIONAL decisions in the PRESENT MOMENT will be the determinant to a future that’s... happier? Or at least -- a future that will, hopefully, include some, if not all, of the people he loves. 

AND: he’s learning that if you live your present life WITH that intention -- then THAT is the main control that a human has to determining one’s happiness.

He learns that he cannot change the future in an ABSOLUTE -- his father will still die. It’s an important lesson. He cannot predict every single turn a human can take and guarantee a great outcome. 

I absolutely love the reflection on not running away. Pisaeng tells his mother he doesn’t want to leave Thailand. Pisaeng’s mom wants him to live overseas to live an “easier” life. But we then get the comparative reflection of Kawi and Max at the wonderful LGBTQ+ event, where we hear that running away just -- doesn’t work.

Max is the guy -- the guy for Kawi and Pisaeng that’s rooted in a very present world. The guy that can really see through both of them, understand their internal shifts and discomforts, and diagnose what Kawi and Pisaeng each have been struggling with. And, so beautifully -- Max gives Kawi his flowers for just being a good friend. In the present.

Dudes, I never, ever shy away from a story that focuses on accountability and responsibility. It’s tough human shit, tough behavioral shit. When characters learn how to hold themselves accountable, and we see that process -- Kawi, Khai, Frame, Phupha at the end of Our Skyy 2, Nozue, even Fuse (holy shit), etc. -- the guys who will GO THROUGH a very TOUGH and HUMAN process of holding themselves PAINFULLY RESPONSIBLE to change on behalf of someone else -- it is just GOOD ART when it is DONE WELL.

I am sure I will unwind more as I get through my day, but wanted to note these awesome, predictive easter eggs. This show is telling its story in so many ways -- through the philosophical references we saw earlier in the series, and today, through shirts! (Yo, @grapejuicegay, we’re always looking for BBS connections, right? SHIRTS!)

MATCHING COUPLES SHIRTS! THEY’RE A COUPLE, NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS IN THE PRESENT OR ALL THE FUTURES.

KAWI WEARING A DUDES SHIRT! HE’S GONNA LIKE GUYS!

LOL. I WANNA WEAR A SHIRT THAT SAYS “DUDES.” Let me get my message across AS LOUDLY AS POSSIBLY -- I LIKE DUDES, I’M GONNA LIKE DUDES. 

FUCK THIS SHOW IS SO GOOD! More soon. Our boy Kawi is growing up. Krist and Gawin are EATING. THIS SHOW IS SO GOOD!

(ccing @dribs-and-drabbles​ @lurkingshan @chickenstrangers -- I got to watch this earlier than expected, yay!)

[sugarskies]

The Deca S1E2: The New Magnus || Recorded Changes

Rewrote select paragraphs.

Switched passive voice to active.

Minor word changes.

Added dialogue between Jelpax and Vansell.

Renamed "Jared" (just for shits and giggles).

Grammatical corrections.

Adjusted dialogue between Drax and Magnus.

Added lore about Gallifreyan video games.

Significantly edited the last two scenes.

Final Word Count: -125

Barnable's Behind-the-Scenes Babbles

as mentioned once way back when, epsilon was originally a parody character created for a roleplay i did with a friend over a decade ago. he was actually my friend's character but i was given complete creative control over him when i asked to use him in a story a while after the roleplay ended. had i known how this fic would've blown up, i probably would not have added him in the series. he kind of makes me cringe.

in the 3rd or so draft of the deca, the one that became what you know today, i started this as chapter two. i did not get past the first scene back then but it actually remains pretty similar to this day.

jelpax references a brother named "syds." i thought for sure i had used his full (shortened) name at some point already but ctrl+f shows i haven't. so for those wondering (aka nobody), syds is short for sydnes.

do the deca genuinely want magnus to change? or is their natural response simply to fuck with him? i no longer remember my intention if i had one but i am inclined to believe the latter.

i can't remember why i put a goat in this. it was perhaps inspired by a writing prompt. either way, i have chosen to embrace it by leaning into the recurring joke/question in the chapter that is, "are there even goats on gallifrey?" the world may never know.

someone mentioned once that video games on gallifrey don't make much sense. i thought about that a lot. they really don't make sense. but this is a fun story so i won't take them out. instead we'll just add a silly little layer of ulterior motives to their existence.

rallon steals the show in this chapter. he says he's boring but rereading for the first time in 5 years, all my favorite moments in this chapter are my favorites because of him.

(that said i'm also fond of the moment drax drops his homework in a puddle and when theta panics at being trapped in the room with the goat. but that's more because of how i see it in my mind than how it's written, i think.)

i realized while revising this that the video games have returned for exactly one plot since this chapter. that's from memory and i do not know if the plotline was ever mentioned outside of that. i have taken note of this for the future.

also on the topic of the video games, i added that dialogue where mortimus pondered black market video games. now i am pondering black market video games. should that be the story where the video game saga comes to a close? tbd.

overall this chapter was pretty standalone. i found no questions left unanswered and only the video games as an open plot. unless you count the goat... but maybe that's better left a mystery.

[bubblegum-glitch]

The Lines We Won't Cross and How They Change

Let's rewind time a little bit, back to the year 2011. I had joined this little website called tumblr and had made an acquaintance whose confidence would begin to inspire me to branch out and try all kinds of things I never could have seen myself doing before that point in my life. I began recording and publishing vocal covers to YouTube, I started showing off my artwork publicly, and I even posted a single topless photo of myself online - all because I couldn't stop comparing myself to this random fucking girl. If she could do it, so could I...

But I was determined that I could do it better.

The "relationship" I built with this online stranger is a little odd, and probably would throw up several red flags for some people. I can't explain why I felt such a strong sense of rivalry between us, and I know she never felt the same, but there was just something about my interactions with this person that made me want to always do better than her, even to this day (even though I'm 100% sure she doesn't even remember who I am).

Creepy? Weird? Stalker-y? I dunno. Probably. Harmless? Absolutely. All I can say is she is the one who ultimately introduced me to the world of "Topless Tuesdays" and the alternative modelling site "SuicideGirls."

She had posted a set to SuicideGirls as a hopeful, and being in full rival mode at the time I had considered doing the same. Ultimately I decided against it however, as the fear of any member of my family every finding out gave me far too much anxiety to overcome (hold this thought). Not to mention I couldn't bring myself to believe I was "pretty enough" to succeed.

I often wonder what would have come of that if I had ever gone ahead with that hopeful photo-set submission.

But I digress.

Let's jump ahead in the timeline to around 2017/2018 (I can't quite remember when). I had a case of the retail woes, a certificate in photography, and a foolish idea to escape the Hellscape that is customer service once and for all. The internet had informed me that feet pics were in and there was mountains of cash just waiting for me, all I had to do was step on a twinkie or two.

Long story short (or short story shorter) I failed in this business venture pretty much immediately. It's harder than you think to market and sell pictures of your tootsies.

Now, let's spin back a bit to where I mentioned my fear of my family discovering my nudity online. This is a topic I will address a bit more in a future post, but I will let you know now that although my parents do try their best to steer more towards the life of liberal boomers, they are still very uncertain of LGBTQA+ topics and VERY against sex work. I have built a strong and close relationship with my mother, but if she ever discovered what I've begun doing for work I believe it would ruin all of what we have.

Early in 2023 I began weighing that fear of my family discovering me against the possibility of actually making a living wage by taking my shirt off for strangers online. After many discussions with my husband (who has been fully supportive since day one) and a long time of back and forth with my decision, I finally decided to give OnlyFans a try.

Originally I had no intentions of posting more than some topless photos. I used what I knew about photography, photo editing, and makeup to my advantage to create some high quality, if a little bit minimal, content. Upon seeing there was some interest, but being unable to hold the attention of anyone for long, I decided to step over that initial line I had drawn for myself and posted some full nudes. Immediately I started seeing a positive response and suddenly I had a little extra spending money.

At that time I said that this was as far as I was willing to go. Excuse my vulgarity here but I had no intentions of doing pussy pics or spreading my asshole. Tasteful nudes, and no farther.

I stuck to that line for about a year, until the inevitable "Fuck it" moment I previously posted about occurred in July of 2024. I stepped over the line again and started posting some more risque content at a premium rate. It was then that my OnlyFans really started to take off and I was seeing actual financial gain in response.

Once more I drew a new line for myself that I swore I would not cross. Absolutely no video content.

But then I couldn't stop considering making that video content. I would think about it so often that I actually began frequently dreaming about creating pornographic films.

So once again I turned to my partner and we discussed the pros and cons, and eventually I decided to dip a toe over the edge and get a sense of the temperature of the deep end.

Admittedly, that first masturbation video I made embarrassed the fuck out of me. I felt exposed, I felt ugly, and I felt very stupid. But then the response to it came.

"I love this."

"That was so hot."

"You're so gorgeous."

"More, please."

So I decided to try again, and again, and then suddenly I fucking LOVED making the videos. The sense of empowerment, the ego boost - It gives me this absolute sense of control. Something I have been missing in every single career I've ever had in my life.

It was about the third video that I realized "This is it. This is exactly what I want to keep doing with my life for the next several years."

But this is the point where I want to say this to anyone reading my blog who is considering this vocation as a future (or even current) option:

Set your rules early. Understand what you do and do not feel comfortable doing, and express that to your followers. You NEVER have to do anything that you are not comfortable with, even if it's what people are trying to push you to do. At the end of the day it is about your level of comfort, not their level of enjoyment. Set the line you will not cross and do not cross it unless YOU want to. You might have to work a little harder to build a community, but you can get there.

I still have multiple things I will not do, some of which I will likely never do, and others I might be open to one day exploring.

There is no timeline in existence where I will ever be comfortable sexting someone. I'm not even comfortable doing that with my own husband. It's just not for me.

I will not do the dom/sub stuff.

BDSM - Yeah, not happening.

Fetish content - It depends, I have no problem sitting on a cake and giving my husband a foot job, but most Fetish content is a nope from me.

Threesomes? Absolutely not.

Meetups? Hell to the fucking no. My husband is the only person I'm sleeping with and I'm firm on that, thank you.

In this industry you are the boss. What you say goes and your followers can either take what you're giving and appreciate what you do, or they can pack up and find someone else to pester with their more extreme requests.

Who you are and what your destiny is belongs to you and only you. Don't let anyone convince you to change if that's not what you want to do.

Never be afraid to say no.

---

As a side note before I close out this entry, I've opened up an Askfm account so you can ask me anything anonymously. It can be about me, about my journey, or even just general advice for starting work in this industry. I'm by no means an expert, but if I can offer some insight to help you out I would be honoured to do so!

[mermaidsirennikita]

People are ridiculously entitled and it’s genuinely so disheartening. Books are someone’s ART. You don’t just get to alter a name in someone else’s creative work. (I’m appalled people out there think this is remotely acceptable - writers are not court jesters nor do they exist to please everyone - no human being nor their creative work does, in fact!) Thanks for putting your various responses out there! Here’s hoping people learn to respect and appreciate artists and creators once again

Quoth Nora Roberts:

I am not here to be a slave to certain reader’s wants, needs, whims. Again, I write what I write, and these are MY characters, in my books. Not yours. They are yours to enjoy or not, but they belong to me, they come from me...

You don’t have to agree, but I’m not writing for your particular point of view. Again, I’ve explained my reasons for this. I won’t do so again. My characters, my books, my decision. If you want something else, read something else.

And yes, I said that, too. Blast away, it changes nothing. I am not obliged to meet an individual’s demands.

So.

First off:

If you're really super chill about the idea of being able to change what writers write just because you didn't like a detail you think is small and irrelevant, I would sincerely encourage you to read La Nora's full thoughts on similar issues... and yeah, I'm gonna equate something as "small" as a name with what Nora's talking about here. Because it is ALL the author's domain. I've never personally subscribed to the idea that a work "isn't yours anymore" once it's out in the world. The way people interpret and interact with it isn't yours, sure. But it's still your creation, and you should be the only person with control over the content.

... and sometimes, I, as a reader, don't like what authors do with their content. I get it. I don't like that Lisa Kleypas edited her work years after publishing it, because I'm big on the "own what you wrote originally even if it's uncomfy" train... (for the most part--editing the fetishization of Cam and Kev would've made sense to me). And I don't think there's anything wrong with readers pointing out problematic shit in a writer's work, offering critique in an open forum, as Smart Bitches, Trashy books did when reading Hello, Stranger, which I speculate may have prompted some of Lisa's edits.

But! I can't say that it would ever be my right as a reader to, say, use future technology to tell my reading device "edit out the times Cam says shit that reads super fetishized". It's just kind of repellent to me to imagine rewriting someone's work in any way without their permission. Fuck, I don't even like the idea of estates releasing sequels or revised versions of books unless the author indicated that such was in their wishes in their will. (See: the TWO official Gone with the Wind sequels/prequels/whatever authorized by Margaret Mitchell's estate.)

We, as readers, have our lanes. The writers have theirs. And sometimes, as writers, they do tiny things or BIG things in their lanes that we dislike. (I love Tiffany Reisz's Original Sinners series, for the most part. I really, REALLY hate the most recent book in the series. HATE. IT. But the only thing I can do about that shit is just pretend that book never happened, which I actually can fairly efficiently because I do in fact control what my brain does. Or, seek out books that give me what that series didn't with that most recent book. Sierra Simone's do a bangin' job.) But you know... Not only do I not think it is safe for me to merge into their lane... I don't want writers to feel like they have to submit to demand and give away pieces of their work in order to keep selling.

(And honestly? For the vast majority, I don't think it would make enough of a difference anyway--writers are often sold bills of goods with new strategies or tech. "This will change the way you sell books". Most writers won't ever be able to write full time anyway, and I find the way that this fantasy that you'll be able to do otherwise with THIS TECH optimizing your writing time, or THIS SUBSCRIPTION increasing the eyeballs that will see your book... Scammy. Not all of it's bad! But the selling strategy that you'll make more money... If you're selling on KU, if five extra people buy your book you're still making pennies, so it's gotta be more than one thing that converges to create the sale, and a lot of that, I gotta say, is word of mouth and people just LIKING YOUR SHIT. And I'd argue that they're more likely to like your shit if you're invested as a writer.)

Second:

No need to thank me! I honestly think that the majority of readers do appreciate what writers do (or don't feel either way about it and just read like people have always read lol) but I don't know. I can't really tell what it is--the sort of "fandom" that's been created around books (and like, author fan clubs and such have always existed, but obviously the accessibility is so different), new tech developing very rapidly when for centuries books were relatively stagnant technologically speaking, the fanficification of EVERY type of media it feels like... But the sense of entitlement that certain readers feel does seem to have grown. Or maybe it's simply become more visible. I mean, Nora Roberts has from the dawn of her writing career taken off had fans that can communicate with her, and I'm sure many have written letters like "Go give these characters a baby :(".

My biggest thing is always going to be this: some books ain't gonna be for you. There are books that sound so Caroline. I read them, and for whatever reason--writing style, one character choice, something ephemeral I can't name--they aren't. Everyone else loves these books. I'd love to love these books. I'd love to discuss these books. I'm not in the party. And that's FINE. Not every party is going to be a party I'm down for! One of my best friends loooooves Tessa Bailey and Tessa-like contemporaries. Tessa, by and large, doesn't work for me. So my friend and I can't discuss a lot of books in depth. Do I wish historicals worked for her so that I could nerd out with her? Sure! But I can't make something that doesn't work for her work for her, and I can't make Tessa's books work for me.

And I know that people will be like "it's just a name bitch", but... it's a slippery slope to me, just like ALL of AI and AI-related tech has been a slippery slope. Like, y'all said AI wasn't gonna be a big deal and would just make things easier, and people are now selling AI-written books under their names. Everyone said that authors would have control over how AI interacted with their books, and books are being scraped for AI on the daily.

I do not want anyone to have final control over what is and isn't in a book but the person who wrote the book. I do not want writers to feel like they need to cede any amount of control over the copy in that book over to readers in order to succeed.

And I honestly think it would be a lot healthier for everyone involved if we as readers (viewers, general audiences) just accepted that we don't get everything we want, and creatives are not here to dance to our tune. They are people, and they want to tell the stories they want to tell. Your power? Is in your dollar. If you don't like that shit, don't buy it. If you don't want to support it... don't! Fuck, if you want to talk shit on the internet about how the most recent book in the series was absolutely not for you, that's your right, too.

I don't want you fucking with a single word on the page, though. Feel free to go write your own shit--prosper! But that part of what Nora said that rings true to me most is "they come from me". These books come from writers. You have them because of those writers. So, I don't know, dude. Just take what's there, and if you dislike it, spit it out and move on to the thing you will like. Authors aren't churn factories to produce what you want, and ROMANCE as a genre, however commercial it is and however much it does have that One Rule that defines it as a genre... Is still something that writers should be allowed to experiment with. That's the work writers put in. The work readers put in? Finding shit that works for us. And I'm telling you... With a little practice, it ain't hard. How do y'all think I have all these books to recommend? Lmao

[kommikoira]

2024_10_22 // glossolalia and i

i think quite a bit. it's probably the thing i do the most of anything at all, and in doing so i find myself solving and defining lots of things in their own special ways to me. this has notoriously resulted in people referring to me as intentionally vague or cryptic, when in most circumstances i just genuinely don't know how to put something without a metric FUCK TON of context; so here is that context, i suppose! i'm going to be going over some of the main facets of my personal morality and guiding principles and such that may need clarification for the sake of making future communication more effective and streamlined in the future as well as provide any important cultural or historical context to the lexicon. think of this as a glossary of sorts, one that i may or may not add to/edit in the future as i continue to grow forever and ever and ever and ever.

starting off with one of the biggest ones, PLUR or PLURR is an acronym originating in classic rave culture as a sort of rule set one would be expected to follow when at a rave and when encouraged to apply to day-to-day life. it stands for Peace Love Unity and Respect (with Responsibility added in iterations including a second R). it has recently in the last few years found traction in parts of the furry fandom, considering the large crossover demographic between the two and even more recently been contorted into a sort of badge to define a particular esthetic and idea an individual wants to put up about themselves. considering this, i tend to classify any modern example of of the phrase into one of three different categories: classical, esthetic, and co-opted. note that there is an overlap present in almost every iteration of it.

classical plur is when it's displayed in the context that it originally would have been intended: a display of an individual using PLUR(R) as a principle to live by or a ruleset to follow. esthetic is when it is displayed as a representation of somebody's esthetic (often times rave or scene inspired) and as a sort of standard to rally others with the same esthetic interest. finally, co-opted plur is the most recent evolution of the usage which has predominantly come out of individuals who desire to fit themselves into the scene, rave, or 'sparkledog' esthetic and community without actually embodying what these communities and terms are really about, therefore their PLURs (often presented without a second 'R') are given exceptions or recontextualized to fit their rigid institutions of morality and missing the entire fucking point. esthetic PLUR(R) is seen in both instances, as one using it would undoubtedly be aware of the communities surrounding it, but in general fits the MO of PLUR co-opters rather than people using it classically.

now, with all of that being said, i use PLURR in the classical sense before all, and to the extreme, trying to apply ideals of peace, love, unity, respect, and responsibility to all things i do in life, seeing the acronym as one of my guiding principles in all things. of course, there is an esthetic usage to it as well, considering that i am a raver and all, but even if i became your run-of-the-mill blue fox furry and never listened to another rave track again or attended a rave, it would never not be my guiding principle.

"At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love. It is impossible to think of a genuine revolutionary lacking this quality." - Che Guevara

now, the next term is more of a phase, and it also comes sort of hand in hand with the next ones. This is "retoriikkaa ja rakkautta."

this may immediately catch your eyes if you follow my private twitter and now if this is your first time seeing my blog, as it is my display name. retoriikkaa ja rakkautta is finnish and directly translates to "rhetoric and love," but there is another level to this. in finnish, using the word 'rakkautta' is not something to be taken lightly, as it is generally considered a very strong word to describe your love for something. this is intentional in this phrase, as retoriikkaa ja rakkautta is another guiding sort of set of principles to me. they exist in a yin and yang state in my mind, being technically opposed but containing one another. retoriikkaa refers to my political devotions, specifically to communism. rakkautta refers to my expansive love for all that is in this world. the two go hand in hand, as without this love for all that is, i wouldn't be a communist. and, should i not be a communist of some sort, than that love worthy of the term "rakkautta" surely would not exist. this is the philosophy behind another phrase i have used before to describe my work in this world: "kommunismin rakentaminen, rakkauden lisääminen," which translates to "building communism, increasing love." there are motifs that fit the two in my mind, such as paper, left, and the color red being retoriikkaa and plants, right, and the color green being rakkautta.

tying into the previous entry, i would like to define the abstracts and motifs of red and green as i have used them before. red is effectively an embodiment of retoriikkaa, as well as acting as a compartmentalizing tool for specific things and concepts, academics and time being great examples of something i would classify as 100% red in nature. green, as you might expect then, is the embodiment of rakkautta, and is used in the same way. plant life and imagery would be green to me. and then there are things that fit somewhere between the two, such as computers, language, and music falling between the two.

tilakkhana is one that i have seldom used actively, but tend to keep as a permanent fixture (i.e on my private twitter account's bio). this is a term used in buddhism to refer to the three marks of existence which are three characteristics present within all living things. the three marks are impermanence, suffering/unsatisfactory imperfection in all things, and what i will simply describe as the concept of the transient nature of the human experience. i reconcile the use of this term in my own life effectively as a descriptor for a state of great gratitude and resignation. Gratitude for the life that I live and the world I live in and the fact it may change, and resignation to the fact that this is the only life i can live, and so i will be grateful for all things within it as to not be affected by dissatisfaction and maintain humility. it's a recognition of the tao in many ways as well.

the last one is a term i don't use often anymore, but a fundamental descriptor for how i live my life every single day. and that is sharpness. now, this term is originally coined by june strings (who you can find here and on twitter and bluesky). the best way i have come to learn to describe it is radical self-care. it is being specific, being direct, and being honest regarding your own needs. it is making a true effort to say what you want when you want it to yourself and everybody around you. it's also making sure, with bleeding dedication, that you make it clear you cannot give what you do not have, and attempting to do so or hiding that you cannot is only a path to resentment, bitterness, and misunderstanding. you remove assumption from the equation and save as much of yourself for yourself as you need.

i'm sure scrolling june's twitter would give you a better understanding on a deeper level, but this is what it is to me, and it continuously serves its purpose as such, so i think my understanding is more than adequate.

anyway, i hope that was illuminating to any degree or enjoyable. i really like talking about my strange processes so i will always take the liberty to do so when given the opportunity. hope you have a good rest of your night or day and got something out of this, since i think you really could get a lot out of this stuff. god knows i certainly have. lots of love from all of us :)

[greatcheshire]

How would you rank your vids based on how much you like them?

Ah yes!! I can answer this one

The Many Adaptations of Berserk: I feel like it has to be this one as my fav. There’s parts of the video I wish I could redo (mainly the audio), but to put out such labor of love and have it receive such a positive response back, it’s so fulfilling. From people telling me it got them into Berserk to survivors messaging me to tell me how much the video meant to them. It’s a sense of pride and accomplishment that I never thought I’d ever feel with my art.

Spider-Man Musical: This, for me, feels like the prime example of what I want my channel to be: exploring relatively obscure things in a way that shows how strange they are while also taking it seriously and really examining them. As someone who has been fascinated with this musical for over a decade, finally finding a way to make an essay about it and letting people know about things like the spider fucking and the shoe song.

Dollar Store Game Show: I wish I could redo the audio here. God I wish I could redo the audio here. That being said, I’ve always seen this as the hidden gem of my channel, and whenever I talk to other creators, chances are this is the video of mine they bring up. The Facebook conspiracy “In Motion” part might be my favorite editing gag I’ve ever done

Demo Reel: I would’ve ranked this much lower if I hadn’t rewatched it a few weeks ago for the new Demo Reel vid. Despite some first time video mistakes that I would happily fix if I could, I think the script here is really solid and could have been way worse. I get why people like this one so much. I probably would’ve been really into this video if I wasn’t the one who made it. I still can’t believe I actually got away with the Evangelion intro gag.

Kitchen Nightmares: I started outlining this video back in my college days. I rewatched it about a month ago and my main note is that it feels like a video anyone could’ve made on Kitchen Nightmares, for better or for worse, and lacks a lot of the… personal energy I like to include in these things? But I still think it’s pretty solid. I also meant to include an entire segment on Nathan For You and just… forgot to lmao oops

The Return of Demo Reel: This one is still so new that I haven’t fully processed my feelings on it. This is probably the meanest video I’ve done so far lol I wasn’t sure how much the two halves would connect together, especially since it’s the only video I’ve done so far that isn’t broken up into segments but is rather scripted as one long thing. The stinger is my second favorite stinger I’ve ever done for the channel. I’m so glad that landed for people as I almost cut it entirely lol

The Cinemassacre Backlash: It feels weird to rank this one so low. I still am proud of the result, but I also think it has the same issue as Kitchen Nightmares where it’s like oh, anyone could’ve made that. I did like getting to interject my perspective into the discourse as someone who co-writes and makes online content and I have gotten a lot of praise for this one by my peers which has been nice. Having it blow up so much was wild and has definitely been a career benefit, even if I’m unsure if I’ll ever do a video like this again

Harley and Ivy: I don’t know why but I can’t help but feel like I could’ve made this one better. I’m not sure how, but it just feels like it exists to me. I actually didn’t even remember that I did the whole thing with the Be Gay, Do Crime scale until I saw it referenced on my TV Tropes page

Lost Film About Internet Memes: This one is fine but it sits in a lower place in my head for a lot of reasons. First being that a lot of personal life stuff surrounding the release and aftermath of the video. Second being my hatred of the original thumbnail and the belief that it tanked that video in a way it’s only now recovering from, which affected future business dealings and negotiations and algorithm stuff. Then the fact that this is the only time I’ve regretted going soft in one of my videos. I originally put more stuff in the script about how I believed the guy who made it was a grifter who seems to do a lot of scams but I changed it to make it more subtext and less of a personal attack and then in the aftermath of the vid it turns out, oops, this guy had a history of screwing people over and grifting and jumped into cryptocurrency because of course he did. I don’t think I’d ever revisit this subject, but if I had a time machine, I would’ve had way more testimonials in the vid from former PopMalt people.

Existential Horror Of Making Content About Content: The nicest thing I can say about this one is that it was the first time I ever made a thumbnail myself and I’m actually pleased with how it turned out, all things considered. Otherwise I can’t see myself ever watching this again

I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m too harsh on my own work lol I just have a unique relationship to it, I think. I’m generally proud of my videos, even if I do have issues with them as their creator.

[horrocious]

MAn i just LOVE how you portray Reinhardt in your fics it drives me FUCKING INSANE

Its like, you show her flaws, her humanity, and its just so fucking raw its jus ARFFGGGHHHH

i think, unintentionally we more or less make rein a symbol bc thats what shes made herself in the story and to the characters, illumina's light, but jus showing her moments of weakness and emotion just gets me every fucking time. it reminds us shes human despite seeming p much omnipotent and it just punches me in the guts

i hjope i make sense bc im going insane and half akseep

oh man thank you so much this kind of comment brings me to life. allow me to postpone folding the laundry to ramble on incoherently about her. apologies if I get some facts wrong. unlike Victoria, I do forget things. anyway. (one more thing, sorry, there's spoilers under the cut for those of you who haven't progressed into the late chapters. OK I'll stop editing now)

she's complex and the way we relate to her is complex, given that she exists as both propaganda item and actual military commander (side note: I feel like it's worth mentioning that she gets represented to us as the be all end all of Illumina but revealed in the plot later to be beholden to other forces in the government, which makes me wonder how many people in Illumina even know who really runs their country.) and while it's kind of tempting to see this as the writers providing a "moral escape route" (i.e. well the bad things in Illumina aren't Reinhardt's fault, it's Eisen/The Committee/The Science Council!) for her I think it's more complicated.

she definitely has authority both in the military hierarchy and just by virtue of everyone's clear respect for both her as a person and what she represents. the upshot is that she's aware of e.g. the black umbrella laboratory and whatever Denier was up to* because, well, survival means making Hard Choices. wasn't her experience with Helios and Denier proof of that, after all? surviving the path to power at any cost meant exactly that. I think her objection to the human experiments in front of the Science Council is pretty telling! she knows it's wrong when she has to confront it! but because she herself was a "beneficiary" they more or less brush her off. this kind of thing is nothing new, but she's had time to see where that line of thinking really gets you. and it's not great.

that's a big deal, because her beliefs about Duty and Responsibility and Sacrifice led her here. and I think the psychological consequences of "I have given up everything, buried my friends, and committed myself to be the standard bearer for Atrocities, Inc.™️" are untenable. so she both has to be the ever-hopeful soldier leading to a triumphant future while knowing that the cause itself is extremely fraught. that manifests in her keeping up a facade both for everyone else and for herself. she needs her legend to be true. that's my read, anyway.

one more thing. you know who I think about in relation to her? the Varaki siblings. Charon has an important but not super high ranking job and thus can be as weird as he wants. he's the silly Gothic death rock train cappuccino theater man. I bet Reinhardt is insane with envy. she would love to be silly risotto exercise lady. but that's what she gave up for this. because survival means hard choices. my thoughts on how Reinhardt and Victoria serve as foils to each other will have to wait until another time because these underpants ain't gonna fold themselves. thanks for reading, and splendor Illumina.

*it isn't explicitly stated, no, but let's think. depending on how literally you take Forsakin when she calls Reinhardt "sister," they're either related or were extremely close. I'm not sure I buy that they would be that close without Reinhardt being aware of what Denier did for a day job. as an aside, I think she's speaking figuratively. one of the things that makes AS both interesting and infuriating is that kind of unexpanded detail.

[telestotelezzz]

You want a long anonymous message? I can cook one up!!

I genuinely think you’re one of the most kind people i’ve ever met. You deserve so much more credit than you give yourself. You’re like the best friend I never had, if that even makes sense to say? You’re fun to talk to, this sounds incredibly and embarrassingly sappy but you’re one of the few people that i feel 100% comfortable talking to. You give off this vibe of comfort without judgement like I can talk as myself and not have to worry about being too talkative or bothersome and, of course, you still have human emotions and you’re allowed to feel those things but there’s not a lot of people i feel so able to freely talk about my interests with and stuff.

I got off-topic I think, oops— Let me add, you’re a very funny person. I genuinely adore your sense of humor. I think i might’ve subconsciously picked up some of it? Sometimes i say something or I See something I think is funny and I think, “Sounds like something Lucifer would say.” I would talk to you way more often if I wasn’t so shit at starting and ending conversations, sadly ;;

I know sometimes you do feel your lows, and I just wanna say, I care about you. Words don’t do a lot, there’s no magical cure for feelings, but please try to keep in mind that even when you’re at your lowest there are people who Care about you. and love you even! Love you for your artwork, your writing, your humor, your interests, your personality, your kindness, you. And the way you inspire people and make people happy and are a fucking amazing friend. Out of this world. Like a world future star!

Sorry if this long of a message feels weird,, Near the end I’ve kinda given up on trying to hide most of my typing style because you’re most likely gonna know who this was anyway— unless I did a good job of being anonymous? That’d be surprising I think. Anyway, you’re wonderful, Lucifer, everything that you are.

i have no clue who yoiu are because i am Terrible at recognizing typing styles unless its super distinct ....... you have kept your anonymity do not fret

i actually read this last night and started like. tearing up???which is why i didnt respond as soon as i saw this ask + i wanted to be on a computer to type like a real response. Not that i know how to give much of one because i am rendered Speechless

this is maybe the nicest message ive ever gotten and the nicest thibgs ive ever been told and it means a Lot to me and its crazy to think that you spent time typing it and you mean it and ???!?!??!kind of silly because its some Message on the internet but i think im going to think back to this a lot when im sad and know that i can hold on for a little longer because there is in fact someone who cares about me. im so glad i can be a good friend to you adn that you feel comfortable around me thats really what i strive to be i just want to be a nice person who helps people and makes em feel Happy (❁´◡`❁)

thank you so much idk who you are (except that we're friends which just makes me want to go and give you a hug even though I CANT why dont computer let me reach through the screen) but i really needed this message i think and it means A Lot to me :)))) (this is probably not everything i will want to say and ill absolutely go and kick myself because i didnt think of something i wanted to say and you cant edit tumblr posts like you could in the Olden Days)

[starshapedkookie]

Live Through This | 2

→ why do i run back to you like i don't mind if you fuck up my life?

PLEASE read part 1, none of this will make sense without it!

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: ex-lovers to frenemies to lovers (?), band au, punk au, angst, smut, fluffiness

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and drug use, mentions of death, smut😳 (protected sex, hate sex 🔥 turned into 😩🥺 sex, choking, biting, oral sex female receiving, orgasm denial(?), mentions of therapy but yay! oc & jk getting their sh-t together! this is kind of lazily edited so sorry

premise: A record deal. The one thing Violet needed to become the next big rockstars. As the front-woman to the band, life couldn’t have been any easier for you. That is until a devastating life event changes everything for you, leaving you heartbroken and in a downward spiral you can’t get out of. With your biggest competitor, Whailen 52 on your heels, your bandmates worried about the future, and your ex Jeon Jungkook being your only solace; you weren’t sure if you were going to live through this to see your dreams come to fruition.

word count: 24,000 (roughly)

spotify playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6U3lm7y9hCgpw1bzc6r5qu?si=65cc5fd78a224189

happy new year! & welcome back to my semi-annual fic posting lmao. i hope you all enjoy the end to this story that i love so much. come chat to me about anything once you're finished reading💜

_____

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” The words seethe from your mouth and into the phone.

“Possibly,” Yoongi responds calmly. You could see him right now—laid back in his bed or a chair, looking at his nails aimlessly, maybe even lighting a cigarette up. Acting as if what he was asking was an everyday question with no repercussions.

“Min Yoongi I c-can—not believe the goddamn audacity of you right now,” you stutter some of your words, disbelief flowing through your veins. You’re trying to keep as quiet as possible since Jimin, Hobi, and Lisa all reside in your designated practice room down the hall. Not only was Yoongi interrupting practice for you on your time, he was doing it to ask you this?!

“Y/N I know it sounds—“

“Crazy?” You answer for him, “Yes it’s fucking insane… Asking me to fill in lead guitar for your band?! Excuse me?!”

“Technically Jungkook’s and Tae’s band,” he says nonchalantly.

“Because that makes it any better?” You fight back.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Yoongi sounds much more determined, his voice stern and heavy, “I know how much Violet means to you—how much you cherish it. I know you want a record deal more than anyone I know, including myself, but how would you feel if everything you’ve built up with your band came crashing down over a stupid drunken mistake, huh? I know you would be just as desperate to find someone to fill in and you know that I would do the same—hell, Jungkook would absolutely do the same for you if it came down to it and you fucking know it.”

You frown, huffing into the phone, “It’s not my fault Namjoon did what he did.”

“Jesus fuck Y/N you’re missing the point,” he says now seemingly frustrated at your responses that are clearly not what he wants to hear.

“How do you think my band would feel then Yoongi?… Huh? Filling in for my ex that cheated on me’s band?”

“Please Y/N, everyone knows you and Jungkook are still fucking in love,” he says, “And it’s not my fault you went and cheated on Jungkook with Jimin making this decision hard for you.”

Your mouth falls agape, “Fuck you Yoongi—we’ve moved past that!”

“Clearly,” sarcasm evident, “If you won’t do this for Jungkook, at least do it for me. Pretend he’s not even there.”

You furrow your brows, chewing on your lips, “Because that’s easy?” you say obviously.

“Y/N will you at least sleep on it,” he sighs heavily, “We’re desperate and I think you owe Jungkook one.”

“I don’t owe him anything?” you retort.

“Mm,” he mumbles.

“You’re actually ridiculous Yoongi,” you sigh heavily, and you know you might regret your next words later on but Yoongi was right. You owed Jungkook for being a pain in the ass. And he would absolutely fill in for Jimin if you asked him. Shit.

“Fine,” you huff, “I’ll sleep on it.”

You can hear the sigh of relief Yoongi gets out, a small smile definitely spreading across his lips, “You’re the fucking best Y/N.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll call you back tomorrow all right?”

Before you can answer, there’s a small knocking at the door you’re sat behind. Jimin walks in promptly, his eyes finding yours instantly, noticing you’re still on the phone.

“Okay, sounds good.”

You hang up before he can respond, turning your attention fully to Jimin.

“Everything okay?” He asks, “You’ve been gone awhile… wanted to check in—“

“Yeah yeah everything’s fine, thanks Chim,” you give him a small smile to which he returns. You knew if you ended up helping Whailen, Jimin would take it the hardest. You’re not even sure he would speak to you again. Hooking up with him had to be the worst decision you ever made. Not only had it made things uncomfortable for you two for so long—just recently going back to your “normal”—Jimin loathed Jungkook. He had never been a huge fan of him even when you two started dating, always seeing him as too immature for yourself. If anything, Jimin always wanted the best for you and your ambitions. He didn’t think Jungkook fit into that mold and that’s where you two differed the most. Jungkook was in your life at least for the near future and he couldn’t stand that. You could only hope that he wouldn’t be mad at you but knowing how sensitive and protective Jimin was over you—it was an inevitable downfall you would have to prepare for.

_____

“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon’s eyes look you up and down as he walks into their practice studio, Jungkook and Taehyung in tow close behind him.

“She said yes?” Taehyung’s mouth drops open as he notices your frame, sitting against the very couch you sat with Jungkook on a couple weeks back. Yoongi sat to your right and Jungkook had yet to look at you. He keeps his gaze busy unsure what to say. Jin soon walks in after the three of them, his eyes wide when he spots you.

“Holy fuck,” he exasperates, “She actually showed up?”

“No guys it’s a clone,” you finally speak up, annoyance clear across your tone, “I’m right here you know, a hello or something would be nice for this huge favor.”

“Please don’t act like this isn’t a privilege sweetheart,” Namjoon mocks as he sits down on a couch opposite of you and Yoongi.

You give him a small smile, “I’m glad you recognize it is a privilege for you guys to have me here,” you throw his words back at him. You don’t know what you did to get attitude from Kim Namjoon of all people, but you hoped he would kindly shut the fuck up.

“Come on hyung cool it,” Jungkook finally speaks up from where he stands near the equipment, setting up a few parts to the drum kit.

“Whatever,” Namjoon mutters, looking down at his phone diverting his attention elsewhere.

“Y/N we really couldn’t thank you enough for this,” Taehyung kindly speaks to you. His light brown hair is hidden under a cap, but he’s as handsome as ever.

“I’m here with conditions you know,” you say to him to which is eyes then turn to Yoongi, seeming confused. You glower over at Yoongi, “You didn’t tell them did you?”

He shrugs, “I was waiting for the right moment.”

“Conditions like what?” Jin says sat near his bass.

You fix you your posture, noticing Jungkook peeking your way every so often. You hadn’t spoken to him since your talk and love profession two weeks ago, so you were out of the loop of what he had been up to since then.

“I get to choose one song for you guys,” you say confidently.

“What the fuck—“

“Absolutely not—“

Namjoon and Jin groan in unison. Taehyung looks a little annoyed from this demand. Jungkook’s face is straight and unreadable. Yoongi is smirking beside you. He loved you coming in here demanding things—it added some spice and the boys definitely weren’t expecting it.

Taehyung takes a moment to himself, thinking about it before saying, “Fine. If I can sing it, fine. Anything else?”

“My name goes on your roster as lead, Jungkook’s name goes on drums,” It was only fair in your eyes.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Namjoon’s dark eyes look towards you, “You’re Krist Vedder’s daughter, do you really need anymore fucking attention? I’m the drummer of the band, my name deserves to be there—”

“Hyung do you ever shut up?” Jungkook’s voice raises from where he sits behind the drums now, his eyes finding yours across the room. “This is your fault we’re in this position, be fucking grateful Y/N is a damn good guitar player and willing to help us.”

“Defending your ex fucking girlfriend over me dude? That’s low,” he seethes.

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to defend you in that manner but you it makes your heart flutter, hands a little less shaky. You send him a small smile in return before Taehyung turns to Namjoon frustratingly.

“Hyung how about you sit this practice out?” Taehyung says to him.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, “Fine,” he stands up, “Have fun everyone.”

You watch as he leaves the practice room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Someone’s cheerful,” Yoongi remarks, standing up beside you.

“He’s been such an asshole lately,” Taehyung groans, “Y/N ready to practice some?” He turns to you changing the subject quickly.

You nod, feeling somewhat nervous. This wasn’t your band therefore you were not in your element. You and Jungkook had played guitar together many of times, but this was completely uncharted territory. Mind that you still had yet to tell your band you were doing this. All you knew is that by the end of this, your hands you were going to be tired and rough from calluses working double overtime on your beloved Fender. You only hoped that this wasn’t a decision you weren’t going to regret this time next week. After all, your dad told you to make the right choices—weren’t you?

“If you put a capo on it would sound better,” you point out. Your eyes follow the way down the neck of Jungkook’s acoustic guitar, up his chest, his neck, and finally his eyes.

He scowls, ignoring your suggestion as he continues to strum the chords to Muse’s Time is Running Out. He knows it would sound better adding a capo, but he hated proving you right. He hums the words, making you feel drowsier as the minutes pass.

You two are sat on the small outdoor couch Jungkook and Taehyung had on their small porch of the apartment. It overlooked the bustling city of Seoul. It was your favorite view. You were saddened that they decided against renewing their lease, instead moving to separate apartments in a few months. You supposed being glued to the hip since their early teens, Jungkook and Taehyung were realizing they needed to spend time away from each other. It would be better for their band and personal relationship in the long run.

You nudge Jungkook’s side with your foot and he jerks against it, a small smile peaking through his lips. You do it again and again, trying to get a reaction from him.

“Quit,” he grabs your ankle with a laugh, looking down and over at you. You’re laid on your back in one of his flannels lazily buttoned, legs straight and feet propped on his knees. You’re his favorite view and perhaps it’s why the heavy weight in his chest brings him down further into hell.

“Pay attention to me,” you pout as you try to squirm your ankle out of his grip.

“Was the last two hours not enough?” He muses cheekily. His face turn a slight pink as you shake your head. He can’t tell if you’re causing him to turn color or if it is the warmth of summer coming.

“C’mhere,” he pulls on your ankle and you smile as you push yourself up, crawling over to his side. You remove his guitar from his lap, setting it down carefully as he eyes you intensely. If anything happened to any of his guitars, you’re sure he would set you aflame. And you would do the same.

“Hi,” you smile up at his beautiful face as you cuddle up beside him, throwing your legs over his lap fully. He opens his arms for you wide, pulling you as close as possible to his body. He’s always so warm and comforting.

“Hi,” his voice is deep as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. Jungkook had been acting a little distant lately. You didn’t know if it was the decision of him dropping out of school to fully pursue music, stress from his parents about that said decision, or maybe the horrible fight you two had a couple weeks back. Any chance you got though, you made sure to hold him as close as possible, desperate for him to come back down to you. You had just celebrated your three year anniversary together and even with Jungkook being more reserved, you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“What’s up baby?” You nudge him as his gaze looks off into the distant. It’s probably just past midnight, but the city is still alive and well. He looks back over to you, hand rubbing circles on your exposed thigh.

“Just thinking,” he mumbles with straight lips, a deep sigh emitting from his nose. You bring a hand up, squeezing his right cheek playfully. He lets you play with him like a doll. He doesn’t care as long as you keep touching him because he knows all too soon—that’ll be a thing of the past.

“About what?” You ponder curiously as he leans into your touch.

“I love you,” he completely disregards your question, leaning into some so you can meet him halfway. The kiss is gentle and soft. Unlike a few hours ago where they were rough and calloused, bruising each other’s flesh in the worst ways possible. You want more from him desperately but onset soreness between your thighs tells you to hold off.

“I love you too. Keep playing,” you whisper against his mouth as he pulls away. He nods tenderly and you scoot away from him some so he can pick his guitar back up. He would do anything for you. Maybe that would make you want to stay. You choose to stay in your curled up position, no matter how difficult is might be for him to play. He rests the bottom of the instrument between the crack of your parted legs, the neck going the opposite direction.

He clears his throat before beginning to strum chords that you don’t immediately recognize, but it soon settles in.

“Why the doom and gloom babe?” You sulk which causes him to stop playing. He laughs, shaking his head some.

“You said play me a song, I am playing you a song,” he raises his eyebrows at you obviously. You giggle in return, before huffing a fine, settling back some in the couch cushions.

He starts the chords over again, the heaviness of the song filling the air around you two. You don’t know why Jungkook has chosen to play you despairing songs the past hour, but you leave him be. He’s much more sensitive than he likes to show on to people. He tries his best to show his emotions, despite how bad he can be at communicating at times. He promised he would work on it and maybe that was your first mistake.

“Don’t wanna think about it, don’t wanna talk about, I’m just so sick about it,” he sings low under the moonlight and stars. “Just so confused about it, feelin’ the blues about it, I just can’t do without ya—“

Perhaps your second mistake was downplaying Jungkook’s distance and undermining the meanings of the songs he was playing. And Jungkook would soon learn himself, what goes around does indeed come back around.

______

“Thanks for driving me home again,” you look over to your doe eyed companion. He shifts his car into park, settling near your apartment.

“No problem,” he says looking over to you. It was late on a Tuesday night—practicing with Whailen just wrapped. You had practiced with Violet earlier in the afternoon and to say you were exhausted was an understatement. There were 4 days left until the competition and you only hoped you wouldn’t be burnt out by then.

“You doing okay?” Jungkook asks as you let out a yawn, covering your mouth quickly.

“Yeah, just really tired,” you say honestly. Truthfully—you had been doing pretty well the past week or so. Settling things with your mother had eased your tension greatly and the letter from your dad seemed to come at just the right time.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this Y/N,” he says genuinely. You had heard that phrase from everyone in Whailen—minus Namjoon—at least once a day since you first came to rehearsal last week.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head some, “I know you’d do the same for me if I asked.”

He gives you a small smile, his eyes softening, “Yeah… yeah I would,” his voice trails off leaving a heavy silence in the car. Ever since yours and Jungkook’s talk, the two of you honestly had not spoken many words to each other. He would give you a hello when you walked into the practice studio as did you, only exchanging words with each other when absolutely necessary. It wasn’t awkward by any means, but there had been a shift in your relationship with each other. Good or bad—you didn’t know.

“Yeah well, I’d better head up,” you unbuckle yourself, ripping your gaze away from his.

“Do they know?” He asks, “Your band?”

The question catches you off guard, your heart stopping for a moment, “No. Not yet”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else as you gather your bag from your feet, opening the car door swiftly, “Thanks again.”

You’re about to shut the door when his voice rings through your ears once again.

“Wait, Y/N—“

You stop your motions, furrowing your brows, “Yeah?”

His dark eyes catch yours in the street lamps that are illuminate the parking lot. His mouth opens but he quickly shuts back, his lips tightening into a line. His expression is unreadable, his eyes wide and starry-like.

“Have a good night,” is all he says. Knowing him all too well, you know that was not what he intended on saying. However, not wanting to stir anything up, you leave it at that. You wish him well too watching as he drives away, leaving you alone to your thoughts.

The moment you cross the threshold into your apartment, you nearly jump out of your shoes when Lisa’s voice rains down on you.

“Were you just with Jungkook?” Her words hit you like a baseball bat and you are the 95 MPH fastball.

“Huh?” You return dumbly, hanging up your key next to hers.

“I saw you two,” she says, “From my window.”

“Never took you as a peeping Tom,” you walk past her frame and back towards your room, wanting nothing more to shower and head into a deep sleep. Her footsteps follow yours closely and you know she isn’t going to let up.

“It’s almost midnight, we finished practice at seven,” she says, “I thought you and him stopped hooking up—“

“We did,” you interrupt, kicking off your sneakers and laying down on your bed promptly, hoping she would get the hint to leave you be.

“Well, then that doesn’t explain why you were with him.”

You are tempted to keep tight lipped but with the competition just days away—they were going to find out no matter what. It was too late to back out on either of your commitments so would simply have to deal with it.

“I’m doing him a favor,” you say, sitting up and sitting criss-crossed. Her eyes narrow as she steps towards your frame, pulling out your desk chair to sit.

“And what favor could you possibly owe him?”

You feel your heart racing, palms sweaty, a lump in your throat before pushing it down, “I’m filling in lead for them,” you pause, “For the competition on Saturday.”

Lisa’s face falls, eyes wide, losing all color at once. “E-excuse me? Y/N what?”

You don’t say anything else, giving her time to process the information.

She starts shaking her head, waving her hands around in confusion, “B-but you said that Namjoon was o-out and we had the leg up now? Y/N please tell me you’re joking oh my god—“

“I’m not,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.

“You have to be fucking kidding, Y/N they’re our competition—our biggest competition at that and you’re out here helping them?!”

“Lisa please—“

“No, don’t Lisa please me—this is ridiculous! Let them suffer for their own problems!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes, “Lisa look at me,” you say sternly, “How do you think I would feel if you, or Jimin, or Hobi got hurt right before our biggest fucking gig—a goddamn record deal on the line—I-I would still want us to play! But there is no way in hell I would ask some random bassist or drummer to fill in for one of you guys! You know if I asked Jungkook, or Taehyung, they would do the same for us.”

“Would they though?” She presses, her fingers turning white from gripping the back of your desk chair.

“Yes,” you say, “I know Jungkook would. Please I know it’s not ideal for any one of us but it’s one gig but I promise you that we will be fine.”

“I can’t fucking believe you sometimes,” she exasperates, standing up promptly from the chair. “I’m assuming you haven’t told Hobi yet? Or Jimin?” You bite your lip hesitantly and it’s all the answer she needs before she is rolling her eyes, huffing at your stature.

“You better not be sabotaging us,” she pauses, “You’re own band.”

Lisa leaves your room, slamming the door behind her. Your face falls, her words coming down on you like a rain shower. Violet was your band—the thing you perhaps cherished the most of anything else in the world. You had worked so hard, practiced so many hours, wrote so many songs—all to leading to a moment coming this weekend. If you secured a record deal then your life would change in so many ways. Your dreams would come true—the dreams your dad had instilled on you as a little girl would come true. Were you sabotaging yourself by helping Whailen 52? You certainly didn’t think so until Lisa said that. It was obviously too late to back on your promise to Yoongi, knowing your dad would have wanted you to do the right thing.

“Fuck,” you fall back against your bed again, body bouncing slightly. You were tired, hungry, and your head was killing you. You really hoped you had made the right decision.

____

Vision was a little hazy, the music a little too loud, and maybe you had already had a little too much to drink for the evening, but you were having fun. A luxury that you hadn’t truly experienced in weeks. The venue was huge—an upscale bar on the opposite side of the city—complete with a rooftop, dance floors, and multiple levels each equipped with their own stage set ups.

Geffen Records kicked off competition weekend with a party, bringing out all the stops for tomorrow evening. There were 11 bands that were playing in total tomorrow evening—press release posters lining the walls of the bar with each band name on it. On the third line sat Violet, a little down to the seventh line sat Whailen 52. The whole night had been surreal so far and perhaps that’s why you had downed a little too much alcohol to ease your nerves.

You found yourself at the bar with Jimin and Lisa ordering another drink, trying your best to ease all the pent up nerves you have. You were exhausted and your fingers were calloused more than they had ever been. You were excited to show your hard off work, both in Violet and Whailen. If anything, you would hope that playing with Whailen would put more spotlight on you and your band. The only front woman in the competition, playing guitar for two bands—that had to look impressive to whoever was going to be judging.

“Babe maybe make this your last one,” Lisa remarks as you down your shot. It was only your second one and you shake your head in response. She was being dramatic.

“I’m fine,” you protest, leaning against the bar to people watch. You wanted to keep an eye out for any familiar faces—doe eyes in particular.

“Do you really want to be hungover tomorrow of all days?” She adds. You glance at her from the corner of your eyes. Maybe she wasn’t being dramatic. You turn back around, ordering a water promptly.

“Where’s Hobi?” You look around, realizing you hadn’t seen your drummer in over an hour. Actually, no one had seen him over an hour.

“Probably chatting up that one bassist in that band Moody,” Jimin explains, “He’s always eyeing her up and down when we’ve been to their gigs.”

You and Lisa laugh in unison, “Good for him,” you smile. Hobi was a charmer that’s one thing for sure.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Jimin turns to you, leaning on his side as he drinks a vodka water. Lisa eyes you up and down, turning her attention away from you two. Neither of you have told Jimin or Hoseok about your double crossing tomorrow—making Lisa swear not to say anything. If she had kept your word, Jimin was still oblivious and if she hadn’t—he was a really good actor.

“Nervous,” is all you say, afraid you might say too much.

“Don’t be nervous,” he reassures, “You’re the best damn guitar player in this whole bar.”

You smile at his compliment, “Give yourself more credit than that.” It was true—Jimin was an amazing guitar player. You considered yourself lucky as hell when Jimin wanted to audition for your band. He had left his old band for yours, putting all his trust in you. Which is why you were so terrified of seeing his reaction tomorrow when you would finally tell him your secret.

“I am,” he nudges your foot that’s clad in a strappy black heel. Definitely not your normal get up, but you wanted to make an impression on whoever would be here tonight.

“Is that miss Y/N, leader of the sensational band Violet?” You don’t recognize the voice at first, you and Jimin simultaneously looking in the direction it came from. Your eyes land on a tall man, whose voice you can now put a name and face too.

Kim Mingyu. Leader of the band Mayday, one of Jungkook’s best friends, and certified asshole. Mayday was an impressive band to say the least. Punk rock based like many of the ones competing, but they probably had the longest list of accomplishments already behind them. They recently opened for All Time Low at a gig in America. They were also already signed to a small record label but were clearly trying to move on up to the mainstream. As showy as their accomplishments were, in terms of their music, they were simply average. It’s why you didn’t consider them competition. Your band was a lot better, on many different levels, and you were about to prove that tomorrow.

“Mingyu,” you greet him, “Long time no see.”

His eyes look between you and Jimin, a small smirk rising upon his face, “I see your efforts paid off.”

“Excuse me?” You’re shocked by his words. They’re vague to anyone else, but you know exactly what he means. He doesn’t elaborate as he steps forward, keeping his eyes on you. He motions for you to scoot to right a tad, so he can squeeze between you and Jimin. Lisa has noticed who has made their way here and she tenses up beside you.

Mingyu orders a beer, leaning on his elbows against the mahogany and gold encrusted bar.

“So how have you been?” He turns to you, completely ignoring Jimin. Your guitarist gives you a worried look but you brush it promptly.

“Fine,” your answer is simple. You don’t owe him any explanation of your feelings. He was always so mean to you when you and Jungkook dated. It got to the point where you refused to hang out with Jungkook if Mingyu was going to be there. This was set within the first 6 months of your 3 year relationship.

“Ah thanks,” he nods to the bartender, taking a gulp of his dark beer, “That’s good, considering everything…”

Your body tenses up, heart rate intensifying too, breathing becoming a little shaky. You stay silent, feeling your brain become less cloudy and more aware of your surroundings. You were tempted to grab Jimin and Lisa, run off and find Hobi, but Mingyu keeps speaking, preventing you from doing so.

“I mean heroin, that’s one hell of a drug,” he tsks, “Wasn’t really my thing you know? Didn’t enjoy the nodding off, takes the fun out of things—“

“Fuck off dude, just leave us alone,” Jimin snips. You feel bile rising in the back of your throat, head spinning as his words sink in. He knew precisely what he was doing and his motive to approaching you.

“Last time someone left you two alone, you ended up fucking him behind Jungkook’s back right?” He turns to you with, clad with a proud smirk. Lisa wraps her small hand around your wrist, worried you might launch at him. Little did she know, you couldn’t do that. He was breaking you down piece by piece and you had nothing in you to fight him.

“I’m serious Mingyu,” Jimin takes action, grabbing him by the arm to tug him away from you and the bar. It draws attention from everyone who is near you, gasps and other whisperings rising afraid of what might happen. Mingyu backs up with his hands up to show a sign of submission.

“Whoa,” he says, “Just some friendly banter is all… I mean everyone is all good friends now though right?” He eggs on, “Isn’t that why you’re playing lead for Whailen tomorrow?”

Your face completely falls—your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach. You feel Jimin tense up beside you, his gaze heavy on your face but you can’t possibly look at him. You briefly glance at Lisa who is looking away, fidgeting uncomfortably in her own heels.

“I-I,” you pause, at a loss for words, “Who told you that?”

He smirks before walking backwards some, downing the rest of his beer, “Who do you think?”

He walks away from the scene, leaving you stunned, embarrassed, and panicked.

Jimin turns to you quickly, though he stays silent. You’re unable to catch your breath or look at him.

Your emotions are running astray—anger, confusion, betrayal, pain. It was overwhelming as you gripped the side of the bar trying to maintain your balance. Not only did Mingyu throw out your secret in front of anyone who was around to here it—he also threw your father’s passing up in your face. You wanted to cry, you really did, but something in you told you to save your tears for later. While you were angry with Mingyu, the hurt and betrayal you felt knowing Jungkook told him everything was manifesting itself into anger at your ex lover.

“Whoa whoa, hey guys what happened?” Hobi appears by Lisa’s side, seemingly out of nowhere, panic striking his features, “Someone said you almost got into a fight?” He references towards Jimin.

“Where’s Jungkook? Have you seen him?” You ask your drummer quickly, your jaw clenching the more you think about those doe eyes that have now betrayed you more than once.

“Y/N let’s not—“

“Have you seen them?” You ask again interrupting Lisa, pushing yourself off the bar stool. Jimin has stayed silent, his eyes full of confusion and distrust as he looks your way.

“I-I think they might be downstairs?” Hoseok finally answers, looking between his three bandmates curiously. He should have expected he was walking into a shitshow when he heard Park Jimin of all people almost started a bar fight.

Without another word, you leave your bandmates rushing to find the nearest set of stairs down to the second floor. Your heels are making you slower than usual, almost slipping once or twice but you passively ignore it. Your blood was boiling and you weren’t leaving until you spoke to him. You’re looking around frantically at the packed bar; people everywhere, drinks flying, music loud, smoke clouds blazing. You make your way through the crowd towards the open area with tables and you nearly scream when a hand grabs your arm in the midst of it all.

“Y/N—woah, what’s the rush babe, come have a drink!”

“Yoongi! You scared the shit out of me,” you hold your chest over your heart, “Have you seen Jungkook? Or Taehyung? Or any of your fucking band—“

“Whoa whoa, what’s up?” He looks at you up and down, noticing your frantic state of mind.

“Have you?” You persist.

“We all were down at the first level, they might still be there,” he replies, tone lacing with concern. He’s about to ask what in the hell is going on but you turn away from him quick enough to escape. Yoongi watches your frame from behind as you walk away, an unsettling feeling washing over him and he can’t help but to follow you, sensing something was about to blow up.

You find locks of freshly dyed purple ends catching in the bar lighting right near the steps you just got off of. Your heart rate was surely going a million miles per hour. The new violet color of his hair perhaps sends you into overdrive. You stop fresh in your tracks when you get a better angle of the scene. It makes more bile rise in your throat and you feel like you could actually get sick.

Whailen is sat around a few nice couches and chairs, all laughing and drinking absentmindedly. All looks relatively normal until you see a girl propped up on Jungkook’s lap, her looking at him like he’s the brightest star of all the constellations. He’s laughing and clearly drunk, his hands a little too high on her thighs for your preference. There are other women around them too, but Jungkook was already in hot water with you—you weren’t letting him off the hook.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s eyes immediately lock eyes with yours as you get closer to them. All of his bandmates and groupies look over at you, all smiling with welcoming ‘hello’s’ and ‘sit down’s’. Jungkook shifts awkwardly in his seat, removing his hands from the girl. She looks at you with furrowed brows, clearly unhappy that his attention is currently on you.

“Fuck you,” you spit at Jungkook, the entire area going silent.

“Woah what the fuck,” Yoongi says from behind you, grabbing your arm in the process of his words. You realized that he followed you and it only makes you more pissed off, jerking out of his light grip. Jungkook looks more than confused, pushing the girl off of him; perhaps that was the reason you were mad?

He stands up only a couple feet away from you now—“Y/N what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“What’s wrong?!” You step forward, not caring how much attention the two of you are drawing your way. “What’s wrong?!” You repeat, “First you can’t keep your fucking dick in your pants and now you can’t shut your fucking mouth?!”

“Y/N, let’s not do this here,” Yoongi chimes in again, trying to pull you away from the situation but you once again ignore him.

“What are you talking about? Y/N I really don’t—“

“Fuck you,” you say again, “I fucking hate you.” Once again—you don’t mean it but you felt the need to cut deep. Blame it on the booze—you couldn’t care less.

Jungkook steps forward grabbing your forearms, “Baby please I don’t know what you’re talking about, what’s wrong? We can go talk?” Jungkook was rambling at this point. Everything had been fine between the two of you—the best it’s been since your breakup—why were you so mad?

“I’m so fucking done with you after tomorrow,” you look at the band who sits there in disbelief about what has just transpired.

You walk away from their group, all eyes on you, anger spilling out of you unable to stop it. Jungkook calls after you but after your frame disappears, he’s never felt more confused and heartbroken in his entire life.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow towards Jungkook before pinching the bridge of his nose, speaking for the first time, “Well that was cheerful.”

_____

Jungkook woke up the next morning not feeling great—slightly hungover, his head heavy from the booze and heavy on you. After the outburst you had last night in front of the band, he found himself heavily drinking to drown out his uncertainty about what happened. For once in his life, he cannot for the life of him figure out what he did. Normally he could step back and tell himself, ‘okay, you did X, Y, Z which is why Y/N is upset’. This time—he had no clue.

To make it all worse—today was the day. The band competition was in less than 12 hours and Jungkook was unsure if you would actually show up for them today. You obviously were pissed beyond belief at him, which in turn jeopardizes Whailen 52’s show tonight. You were carrying a lot of weight for his band tonight and if you didn’t show out—it was going to be his fault.

“Man, I just don’t know what I did,” Jungkook inhales from the joint deeply, holding in the smoke as long as he could before exhaling. He passes it over to Yoongi, who eyes him suspiciously. A hangover wasn’t anything Jungkook couldn’t solve with a morning bake. He ended up crashing on Yoongi’s couch last night, too drunk to make it home by himself or with that girl he was with. What was her name again?

“I want to believe you Kook,” Yoongi inhales, “But given your track record…” he laughs while blowing the smoke away from the two of them.

“Hyung I’m not fucking lying,” the younger snaps, “I just don’t know why she always feel the need throw things up in my face without actually talking to me about it first,” he shakes his head, looking out over the small balcony of Yoongi’s apartment. It was a chilly day, the sun barely out—a great representation of Jungkook’s mood.

“Maybe because that’s what your relationship was?” Yoongi inhales once more before passing the joint back over. Jungkook stares at Yoongi with a heightened gaze, bringing the paper up to his lips. “I’m just saying,” he pauses, “You guys were younger and stupid, you would do something, she would do something and you two would instantly jump to conclusions without communicating.”

Jungkook hangs his head low, slightly nodding his head into agreement. Miscommunication was the root of many of yours and Jungkook’s problems in the relationship. Perhaps that’s bleeding over to whatever you are now.

“How can I fix it,” Jungkook mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

Yoongi watches his younger peer with a stoic expression. You and Jungkook were probably the two most stubborn people he knew—whatever was going to get you both straight—he didn’t have the answer.

“Do you want to be with her? Still?” He raises an eyebrow at Jungkook, who only gives Yoongi a glance from the side of his large eyes. It’s all the answer Yoongi needs. “Give her some time Kook, I don’t know how much… I mean give yourself some time too man. She’s been really unfair to you the past few months.”

“Because I fucking cheated on her—“

“Jungkook you can’t keep punishing yourself about that,” Yoongi interrupts, “If you truly want to be with her again, you have to forgive yourself and she has to forgive herself for the things she did to you.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans. He needed to talk to you before the show tonight. With so many wrongs, he wasn’t sure if he could make things right, but he had to try.

____

Your phone had not stopped buzzing from the moment you woke up this morning. Texts from friends and some family wishing you and your band good luck later tonight. You had a few texts from your band in the group chat, a few from Jimin (you were actively ignoring him at the moment), a few from Min Yoongi, and unsurprisingly, Jeon Jungkook (who you were also actively ignoring). With the amount of nerves bubbling in your veins today, you did not have the energy to deal with the people pinging you this morning.

Thankfully there was no sign of a hangover as you started to go about your morning. Lisa didn’t come home last night, opting to go sleep with one of her fuck buddies instead. She had yet to show face this morning and if she isn’t here by noon, that’s when maybe you would consider calling the police.

In the height of all your thoughts, stress cleaning your kitchen, a sudden knock on your door knocks you from your reverie. Guess you wouldn’t be calling the police after all. But why would Lisa just not come in? Did she forget her key?

You swing open the door, your eyes quickly scanning up a chest that is simply too big to be female. When you make eye contact, your jaw clenches and like instinct, you begin to slam to door back shut.

“Y/N, wait!—“ his hand slams down on the door, stopping you from closing it on his face. He’s too strong for you so you stop fighting, deciding to kick him out in a nicer fashion.

“What do you want Jungkook?” You stand in the threshold, crossing your arms over your chest to block him from coming in. “Are you high?” You push, noticing the whites of eyes a little too pink to be normal.

“Coming down,” he mutters. You roll your eyes about to shut the door again until he starts to speak, “Y/N we need to talk. I-I don’t know what I did and I don’t want you mad at me—I feel like we were finally getting somewhere,” he pauses running a panicked hand through his hair, “I wanna fix this—us—I get that we’re not perfect but I want this shit behind us, so please just let me come in.”

The straight look on your face doesn’t help him in anyway, but when you step aside to let him come in, he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Five minutes,” you warn as you shut the door behind you two.

“Y/N I just wanna say whatever you’re upset about—I’m sorry,” he doesn’t waste anytime, “I just don’t know what I did—I thought everything was good? And then you came up last night and I just genuinely didn’t know what you were talking about… and I didn’t want you to think I was belittling you by not knowing I just—“

“Jungkook stop,” you interrupt him letting out a deep breath. His desperation tells you that he seems to be telling the truth, though it still doesn’t ease your frustration against him. “You know who came up to me last night?”

He shakes his head, desperate for answers.

“Fucking Mingyu,” you spit angrily. Suddenly his expression falls, a pit opening up in his chest.

“Y/N—“

“No Jungkook—no,” you pause; you weren’t going to cry but you felt like you could if you let your walls down, “Not only did he spill to everyone that I was helping you guys out, he threw up my own father’s death in my fucking face.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts, his jaw clenching slightly. Truthfully, him and Mingyu had grown apart in the last few months, only catching up if they saw each other out. The last time they spoke, Jungkook did mention you were helping Whailen out which Mingyu scoffed at but he figured he couldn’t care less. Mingyu’s band was already bigger than Violet or Whalien—why would he care? Hearing that he said something to you about your dad doesn’t sit well with him. No matter how famous your father was in the music industry, it’s no ones place to bring it up.

“Holy shit, Y/N I’m so sorry I didn’t—“

“Jungkook you know that I’m doing this as a favor for Yoongi,” it somewhat cuts Jungkook through the chest to hear that he had no apparent weight in your decision, “But only Lisa knew and he brought it up in front of Jimin and I just—“ you stop, a lump forming in your throat. You had yet to explain yourself to him and you weren’t sure how you were going to.

“Y/N I’m sorry,” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “Honestly Mingyu and I aren’t that close anymore—I talk to him maybe a couple times a month now… when we were together I didn’t pay attention or care enough to pay attention to how shitty he was to you. And then after we broke up he would say the most horrible things about you and I just wasn’t having it—I’m so sorry I feel like he was probably doing in it spite of me because I told him to fuck off when it came to you, fuck no wonder you’re mad I—“

He stops to catch his breath, his eyes wandering away from yours. You feel the tense bite of your jaw loosening, your shoulders slacking, your defense mechanisms falling. You were smart enough to acknowledge your strengths—being self aware one of your prides—but you could also admit your flaws—and jumping to conclusions was something you were still working on fixing. Had you really gotten this so wrong? You suddenly felt stupid, like a child throwing a temper tantrum because someone said something that you didn’t like.

“Is that true?” You ask, though already knowing the answer. Jungkook notices the small look in your eyes, looking unsure and insecure about the situation.

“Yes, god,” he steps forward, his hands wrapping around your arms, squeezing you reassuringly, “Y/N I shouldn’t have said anything and I’m sorry for that,” he pauses, “Everyone was going to find out eventually but it wasn’t my place to say anything. I really am so sorry.”

You end up cracking a small smile, laughing to yourself for a moment. Jungkook looks at you confused, muttering a what.

“Stop apologizing,” you say looking up at his full stature. His head was a few inches from yours and you could faintly smell remnants of his cologne. “I should apologize to you—and the guys—fuck I’m such a bitch—“

“No, no you’re not,” he says, “Short tempered? That’s another thing,” his lips form into a small smile and you can’t help but roll your eyes, pushing his chest away from you slightly.

“Are they mad at me?” You ask referring to his band. You wouldn’t blame them if they were considering you pretty much told them all to fuck off last night.

He shakes his head some, “No I think they were just confused like me,” he laughs again and you throw your head back, letting out a groan. You really couldn’t catch a fucking break. And yourself was to blame for part of that. You make a mental note to bring it up to your therapist next session.

“I’m sorry Jungkook,” you finally say, stepping away from his frame some. He was so… large these days. It was intimidating. He doesn’t say anything, only watching as you somber over and throw yourself on your couch, stretching your legs out on the sectional with a groan.

He follows you a few moments after, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch, a silence falling over you two. You turn on your side, your eyes immediately meeting his again. His gaze isn’t heavy, but he’s a look on his face you can’t read. Then again, you weren’t necessarily good at reading him anyway.

“Have you talked to them yet?” He suddenly asks. It takes you a second to understand what he’s asking about.

“No,” you mutter, “I didn’t want them to be angry.”

He visibly swallows, “Don’t you think they’d get more mad if you don’t talk to them?”

You don’t answer him immediately, knowing he’s right.

“I care about him too much,” with your mention of a him, Jungkook knows exactly who you are talking about. Jimin.

“I know,” he mumbles, unsure of how he should feel. On one hand, he despises Jimin—hates that he was the person you ran to betray him all those months ago. On the other, Jimin is in your band and has known you longer than Jungkook has… as long as Jungkook wanted you in his life—Park Jimin was going to be there too.

“You should fucking hate me,” you mumble curling into yourself further into the couch.

“And you should fucking hate me,” he responds with wit. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can sense his raised eyebrows, lips tight in a straight line.

“I don’t,” you say honestly. It was the exact opposite. He knew that. You knew that—you weren’t even trying to lie to yourself anymore.

You look back over to Jungkook, who is looking down at your coffee table aimlessly. Pursing your lips, your push yourself up, crawling over to his frame. He watches you curiously as you throw a leg over his lap to straddle him. You now have the power as he stares up at you, studying your face intensely. You bring a hand up to his throat catching him off guard, raising a single eyebrow at you.

“I don’t hate you,” you say, “I hate how you’re good at everything. I hate how you always know what to say. I hate that you cheated on me. I hate how you make feel sometimes.”

Your fingers dig into his throat some but he doesn’t seem to mind as he takes your grilling. His stares at your neck, trying to keep his composure beneath you. His heart rate had picked up the second you flopped yourself on his lap. He wasn’t sure what your motive was, but he would give in to anything you wanted.

“And I hate how much I fucking love you,” you whisper this time, dropping your gaze along with your hand, noticing the redness against his skin. Before your hand reaches your lap—he grabs your wrist tightly, making your eyes flick back up to his. His chocolate eyes have darkened to a near black. He’s chewing on his bottom lip slowly before his other hand comes up, wrapping itself around your throat this time. You freeze on top of him with your breathing picking up heavily.

He brings your head to his, his forehead against yours, his nose brushing against your own. His fingers press into your throat, a small whine for air coming through your lips. You shift against him, trying to create some space between you two but he’s strong—and he’s not letting you go anywhere.

“Is it my turn now?” He breathes heavily against your mouth and you try your best to swallow easily, but with his grip it has become more difficult. You look at him confused, a small “hm?” emerging from your chest. “To tell you all about my hatred for you?” His voice is low, barely above a whisper at this moment.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. You’re surprised you’ve held on for this long, not giving into his motions. Chest to chest, breath to breath, you manage a hand on his chest, bundling some of his sweatshirt together. With all your strength, you push him back into the couch, his hand leaving your throat, your actions slightly startling him.

One hand pinning him against his chest, one by his head, “Be my fucking guest.”

It’s all he needs to do what you’ve been wanting him to do for weeks now. His grip tightens around your waist and ass, pulling you down to close the gap between the two of you. Of all the people you’ve kissed in your lifetime, his lips were your favorite by far. His lips—oh his soft lips that haven’t changed from when you first met him at 18. Sometimes they tend to be more chapped than others, but they’ve always molded against yours so heavenly.

Both of you are equally tugging and pulling against each other, holding each other close, mouths entangled with one another. His tongue melts into your mouth, his hands squeezing your ass to push you further into his own pelvis. A whine escapes from your mouth when you pull away to catch your breath. He doesn’t let you rest long, his hand coming back up to your throat to bring your mouths together once again. You two hadn’t kissed in weeks—the last being in his studio which wasn’t planned and didn’t end how you expected it. Ending your mutual toxic occasional fucking was needed, but ending your relationship with Jungkook was hard and right now—you’re not sure why you had made that decision.

A deep groan emits from his lips, “Here,” he pauses, holding your face steady in one hand, “Or your room?”

Knowing Lisa could walk in any minute, you decide on the latter. Once in your room, Jungkook takes no time in discarding your clothes piece by piece. He sucks and nips at all angles of your neck and collarbones as he shoves you against your door. He’s being rough, but you weren’t opposed to it. In fact, it just made your panties all the more damp between your legs.

His actions turn slightly smoother when his lips reach yours again. His kissing sweet and gentle, the built up pining for each other spewing out in passionate bursts of energy. Feeling handsy, you push his sweatshirt up with him finishing slipping it off himself. His eyes are dark as you both take a few moments to just stare at one another.

He licks his lips, pressing his forehead against yours. Again, he grabs you by the throat, forcing your eyes to met his. Desperate to feel them again, but he holds his lips back mere inches from yours.

“I hate how you always jump to conclusions,” he whispers deeply and you can’t help but fight the urge to smile some.

“Is that it?” You raise your brow in response, cheekily enough to where it clearly irks him on the surface. He kisses you again, this time a little more rough and you gladly swallow all of him. Feeling bold and knowing it’s nothing you haven’t done before, you reach down to his pants, caressing the outside of his clothed cock. It’s already plump and swelled when you feel it, but you only get a few strokes in before Jungkook’s hand is swatting you away.

In a sudden motion, he turns you around, pushing your chest up against your door. You turn your cheek against the cold surface as he presses his body close to yours. With you trapped against the door and between his strong body, a small pathetic whine comes from you when you feel his hardened cock pressing into your ass.

“I hate how you slept with Jimin behind my back,” he nips at the section of your neck that’s exposed to him, his voice sharp and punctual with his words. You try your best to push off the door, but he’s too strong.

He rolls his hips into your ass, “Jungkook,” you whimper as he continues to kiss at your sensitive skin all the way from your neck, down to your exposed collarbone, and slowly across your upper back. Your nipples are hard against the cold surface and it only makes you more restless. To get back at him some, after he presses himself into you once more, you push your ass back which earns you a small groan from him.

“Ah fuck,” he breathes heavily, “I missed you so much.”

He speaks honestly and you can’t help the quick and desperate nodding you give him.

“Me too.”

He’s quick to let up some pressure on your frame to which you take the opportunity to turn back around, your hands gripping at the sides of his face to bring him in for a deep kiss. It was so hard not to give yourself to this man. He had broken your heart more than once, but he was always there to piece it back together. He was your catharsis and you weren’t sure if anyone else could fill the void that desperately needed to be filled.

“I hate how I can’t keep myself from you,” he breaks the kiss, taking you by your forearms, pulling you along until you are perched on his lap on the edge of your bed. Your room is chilly but with your naked chests pressed up against each other, his body was warm and comfortable. He was like your own personal strain of heroin—addicting and warm, getting you so high that you didn’t need anything else.

“Anything else?” You quirk your lips looking down at his beautiful face and hair that you’ve tousled in the process of making out.

He licks his lips slowly, his eyes weak and hazy. He’s obviously tired, coming down from the high hitting hard, but with you keeping himself hard, it was something he could push past.

“Baby I have a whole list,” he smirks, his hands rubbing calming circles on your skin. You push yourself harder onto his lap, wretchedly trying to feel his length. He moves slightly, pressing himself up into you sending chill bumps down your spine. You roll again, which sends him tilting his head back.

“Shit, stop that Y/N.”

You act like you don’t hear his remark, rolling your hips against him again. A shutter escapes your mouth when his hard cock brushes against your clothed clitoris. You needed more—you hated the space between you two. You needed his hands, his mouth, his pink tip—whatever to just to be close to your opening. He tries to hold you in place so you can’t move anymore, but he’s falling weak as you continue to grind down on him.

You are too occupied to notice how tight his grip has gotten on you, his heavy breathing dark and languid. You squeal when you are suddenly flipped over, Jungkook’s thick body pinning you down to your mattress.

“I said fucking stop,” he groans into your neck as he begins his journey to pull down your silky sleep shorts. To his surprise, you’re not wearing any underwear and the sight makes him lick his lips, biting the flesh every so slightly.

“I hate how you don’t fucking listen,” he pushes into the meat of your thighs, his large hands spreading you apart. Your back involuntarily arches the closer he gets to your dripping center. He hasn’t even touched you yet you could take him so well. All it takes is one lick, two kitten licks of his tongue before a sigh comes out of you.

Jungkook loves the way you taste. Anytime he eats you out, he treats it like it’s his last—afraid that his personal skittle, so sweet and delicate in the middle would recede far away. His mouth opens and closes in different motions, some slow and wide, other fast and close together. You grip his hair harshly, pushing his face down into your hole deeper, his nose brushing against your sensitive bud every once in a while.

You’re squirming at this point, your chest rising unevenly and Jungkook can tell your close. Your small whines make it hard for him to stay quiet, he himself mulling into your wet pussy. His hips buck into your mattress trying to find some pressure relief for himself.

“Fuck Jungkook,” your voice is louder than you were expecting, his tongue taking your breath away, “I’m gonna c-come,” you warn.

His eyes are dark as they look up at you, his tongue focusing on your sensitive bud to send you over the edge. Your hips begin to rise, your mouth falling open and eyes closing shut as he almost sends you off the cliff. With a few more licks to go to send you to a high you need to go, all of his movements stop. Your eyes fly open, down to the spot in between your legs, dumbfounded at his actions.

“What the f—“

“Baby’s been so mean,” he crawls back up to you, his sweatpants now hanging lower than ever, his happy trail out leading to your happy place. “I don’t think she deserves to come yet,” the way he slightly degrades you in 3rd person sends you in a spiral.

“Yes, yes, yes she does Kook, please,” you hold his face gently as you chase a kiss. He obliges, letting you taste yourself from him. He manages to shimmy out of the rest of his pants, revealing he’s not wearing any underwear either, his tip grazing across your entrance just waiting to be sucked in.

He smirks against you as he pulls away, allowing you to look at his sculpted body in all its glory. His chest is broad, his abdominals carved to perfection, his v line going right where you need him most. He cock is such a good size, just the right length and girth. His thick thighs are halfway straddling you as he reaches over into your nightstand to pull out a condom. You watch him skillfully rip open the package and put it on in less than 15 seconds, beyond ready to have your pussy stretched out.

He rubs your entrance with his tip, holding himself up with one arm by your head. Neither of you are looking at each other, too enthralled with the way he puts his juicy pink tip in, only to pull it out after some shallow thrusts.

You’re about to push your hips to hurry the process but before you can, you’re suddenly flipped over, ass in the air and your back pushed down into your mattress.

“Oh fuck!—“ your breath is taken away as Jungkook quickly finds his way into your tight walls, a deep groan emitting from him.

“Oh god—shit,” he breathes, shoving himself as deep as he can go, one hand keeping your back down against the sheets. You feel tears stinging your eyes as he stretches you full, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Jungkook please move—”

“Fuck baby you’re so tight though… always so fucking tight just for me right?”

You mewl, head nodding in your sheets, “Yes yes, only for you baby—please move Jungkook,” you’re begging with tears, your pussy throbbing against his length.

Jungkook shifts slightly to a more comfortable position, one hand gripping your waist to hold you against him tightly, the other falling against your neck to keep your torso down. Hesitantly, he pulls out some, jerking his hips right back into the deepest parts of your insides. You swear you feel him pressing into your gut and it leaves you breathless.

“I hate,” he pulls out again a little more, “How fucking,” he slams his hips back, “Needy you always were,” he groans as he begins a steady pace in and out of you. Your moans are becoming louder and louder as he snap of his hips are harder than the last. His words go completely over your head, too intoxicated by his thick cock moving against your walls.

“Oh fuck,” you are face down into your pillows at this point, headboard clanking against the wall. He watches your small frame keeping heavy tempo, watching his dick move in and out of your slick center. It’s obscene, sending his head backwards as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shit baby,” he breathes out heavily, “Look at me,” he commands.

You do your best, turning your head on your cheek, your eyes meeting his swiftly. It’s hard to hold his gaze in this position with your head buried in your pillow, but you manage. Jungkook leans forward on one hand, his chest grazing your back, his lips hovering above your right ear.

“Jungkook,” you say, hardly able to breath under his weight as he keeps his hips snapping deep within your walls. He stops momentarily, slowing down to watch your face contort as he hits the spot in you that you desperately needed relief to.

“Pretty girl,” he kisses the exposed skin on your shoulder with an open mouth, “My pretty girl… does she wanna come?”

You nod quickly into the sheets, unable to hold his gaze as he reaches under you to circle your clit. You jerk in his hold, still sensitive from moments ago, even more so when he suddenly bites down on your skin harshly.

“Ah!” Your half-scream is muffled as he continues his contradicting motions of fast hips yet steady pace of his thumb on your clitoris. He’s always been your best and it never takes long when he’s fucking you. You turn your head once again for some air, pushing yourself up on your elbows as best as you can, knowing your glorious orgasm is fast approaching.

“Jungkook—fuck I’m gonna, come,” your breathy moans makes Jungkook’s cock impossibly harder inside you. There was no way he was going to last long at this point. He wanted to make you feel good and fall apart over him—he fucking lived for it.

You fall apart in his grip, your body losing tension as you fall back into your pillows. You’re clenching around his dick in random spurts, Jungkook’s own moans becoming deep and short, as if he’s trying to hold them in. He only continues to pound into you from behind a few more strokes as he lets you ride out your orgasm. You’re squirming underneath him as its becoming all too sensitive, but you know it could easily turn into another one soon if you pushed through.

Abruptly, he pulls completely out of you. You push yourself back up, looking over your shoulder—“Jungkook?—“

You’re cut off when he grabs you, hands around your waist and tummy, flipping you around so you’re now completely on your back. He loved throwing you around like a rag dog and you obviously let him. In public, you were always the one wearing the pants in your relationship—in the bedroom though, it was completely opposite. You figured that out all those years ago when you first got with him.

The two of you make eye contact at the same time, making your nipples pebble from a chill. The atmosphere shifts in your small room. The tension is dense and you’re unsure of his next move. He runs his tongue inside his mouth, before biting his lip in contemplation. You’ve now fully recovered from your orgasm, your legs already spread for him to come back, but he keeps his gaze locked on yours.

“Scoot back,” he commands softly. You do exactly as you are told, scooting on your elbows, your head falling back on the plush pillow. His face his blushed a soft pink as he quickly follows, positioning himself between your legs comfortably.

He grabs his still harden cock with his tattooed hand, lining it back up with you. You push your hips up and out to ease him in slowly. A gasp escapes both your lips as he slides in inch my inch, his forehead descending against your own.

“Fuck,” he closes his eyes tightly, sucking his bottom lip in as he starts to move in painfully slow thrusts. Nonetheless, he’s still hitting you hard and deep enough for you to keen into him, profanities and moans tumbling out every few seconds.

Your insides are hot and slick and Jungkook feels himself edging closer and closer to his own orgasm. Between the sounds coming from both pairs of your lips, he cannot help himself become overwhelmed in your presence. He knows it’s you—it’s always been you. No one would ever compare to how you make him feel. He doesn’t know why he fucked another girl when he had you waiting at home—arguing or not. He shuts his eyes tightly as a particularly loud moan emits from your mouth, trying to shut out his thoughts too in the process.

He maneuvers your left leg up around his waist so he can feel the deepest parts of your insides.

You’ve now built up a sweat, Jungkook too as both of you focus on pleasuring each other for as long as possible. Above you, Jungkook looks like an angel as he drops to his elbows, nuzzling his head into the crook of your shoulder. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him to pull him closer as he pace against you picks back up. He’s close—his heavy, uneven breathing in your ear being the indicator. You weren’t sure if you were going to come again, but honestly you didn’t mind. All you cared about was helping Jungkook get there, wanting him to come deep inside of you, pushing his come in and out of you as he rides out his high. The thought makes you even wetter, your pussy pulsing around him as his breaths continue to shorten.

Your train of thought is broken when you suddenly feel a wetness appear—dropping—onto the bare skin of your shoulder. You hear a muffled whine coming from Jungkook and you nudge him slightly, one of your hands flying down to his hip to stop his motions.

“Jungkook?” You whisper… was he crying? He fights against your palm as he tries to continue his pace, his face still buried beside yours. “Guk—baby—“

“Fucking stop—“ he groans almost angrily as he pushes himself up to look down at you. You were right—his eyes were stained with tears, pink and slightly swollen around the edges.

“Jungkook,” you push yourself up on your elbows, his hard cock still inside you as he stills his motions, “What’s wrong? Baby, what’s wrong?” You grab onto his face gently, bringing him back down with you.

He doesn’t look at you, keeping his gaze down at your chest. He shakes his head slightly, a tear dropping down on your skin.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he starts to thrust in and out of you again. Your hands relax against his face as pleasure again seeps through your veins. “Fuck—Y/N—“ he pauses, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—“

His forehead falls against yours, finally looking you in the eyes. He’s fighting a battle in his head and you’re confused at his words until he speaks again.

“I’m so sorry,” he manages as his orgasm is just right there on the horizon, “For ever—everything,” he says, his voice trailing off and breathy.

“Jungkook come inside—please,” you beg, holding him close, your lips grazing his as he thrusts upward each time, “Come on baby, please come for me, it’s okay—“

“Ah—ah!” he stutters as he finally finds his sweet release, shoving his hips as far up as you’ll let him. You push your hips out to help him ride out his high, the sounds from his mouth sending you squirming beneath him looking for another release.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes out as he sits up, about to pull out but you grab his wrist before he can.

“Keep it in me, please,” you beg from the tip of your tongue and he nods eagerly. Both of you watch as his penis pushes back inside you. His tip catches over your clit and you jerk beneath him. He does it against experimentally and when a moan falls from your lips. It only takes a minute or two before you come again from his rubbing and despite Jungkook’s oversensitivity—he does it for you. He wants to please you and only you.

Exhausted, Jungkook falls halfway against your frame; one leg and an arm thrown around you, the other half of his body lay flat beside you, his face down in your pillow. You too are now tired, the mattress beneath you calling you in for a nap but with Jungkook right here, you disobey.

“Jungkook,” you nails scratch against his dark purple hair. He keens into your touch, but doesn’t say anything. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head again but this time open his eyes to meet yours. You can only imagine how you look from this angle having to scrunch your neck to properly look down at him. He doesn’t care though, only seeing you for what you are; beautiful and like no one else he’s ever met.

You think he’s about to tear up again as his bottom lip quivers ever so slightly. Jungkook’s about to push himself away from you too embarrassed to look at you, but when you pull him impossibly closer to settle between your legs again, he feels himself calm down some. It still doesn’t change the heavy heart in his chest as he looks down at you. You lean up, indicating what you what and he obliges, kissing you gently.

Your mouths move slowly and synchronously. His weight falls back on you as your head pushes down in your plush pillow, one of his hands caressing your face gently as he fights to pull away.

“I’m sorry for everything,” he barely whispers breaking your kiss to speak. He kisses you again and you hold onto the wrist of that hand that’s caressing your face.

“Jungkook—“

“We had it so good,” his voice breaks off, “And I had to fucking ruin it.”

You furrow your eyebrows, a heavy feeling replacing the lightheartedness that was remnant from your orgasms.

“Jungkook, no,” you shake your head slightly. You were somewhat lying to make him feel better—but you also ruined it too. You could tell he was fighting himself internally about the situation. For months both of you had been fighting yourselves for different things but your relationship was a common denominator.

“I loved you so much,” he sighs out heavily, “I still love you—I don’t know why I did what I did,” he shakes his head angrily at himself, “I wanted everything with you—our dreams, a family—“ he stops himself abruptly.

While he’s not outwardly saying exactly what he did—you know exactly what he is referring to. The painful memories dig a hole in your chest, the shovel piercing your lungs with each blow. The two of you talked for so long about making it big together—eloping off whenever the time was right down the line—having babies—it was what you longed for. You feel your own tears begin to prick in the corners of you eyes, your lip quivering as you inhale a deep breath.

Jungkook is quick to notice, holding onto the left side of your face gently as you bring your two hands up to hold his face close to yours.

“Fuck,” you finally let out some of your anguish, tears rolling down the side of your cheek and on the pillow.

“There isn’t a day that goes go by where I regret everything,” he speaks again, wiping tears with his thumb. “I think about you every second, of every day, and I blame myself for how much I hurt you—“

“Guk stop,” you interrupt him, meeting his intense gaze. His weight was heavy on top of you but nothing was heavier than your heart was feeling. “Please stop blaming yourself—“

“How can I not Y/N?” His tone changes to a slightly defensive one, rolling off your body in the process leaving you a lot colder than before. He lays on his back beside you, staring up at the ceiling as he lets out a deep sigh to control anymore tears from flowing, “If I hadn’t of cheated on you—we wouldn’t be here doing this. Fighting and fucking, pretending to be just friends—“

“Jungkook stop,” you reinforce this time, setting yourself up on an elbow to gaze down at him, “Please stop this, I fucked up just as bad as you and I regret it every fucking day,” you pause again as a sob escapes your lips. Jungkook gaze softens when he sees how broken you are, pulling your body over to his, head resting on his chest.

He lets you quietly cry into his bare chest, his own pit growing deeper than ever in his chest. He’s not sure now is the right time to say what he wants to say, but at this point, he doesn’t care.

“I’m sick of this Y/N,” he says in a whisper, caressing the hair behind your head as you nuzzle into him, your whole body freezing from his words. What’s he going to say? You let out a noise that his representative of a hm before he continues.

“Baby I love you so much,” he forces you to look at him, holding your head in place. Thankfully you had stopped crying, only looking a little tired now. “I will never stop loving you despite everything,” he pauses, “I mean this from my fucking soul Y/N—please, please, can we just stop this and do it for real…”

Your breath halts in the back of your throat as you let out a small gasp. Your mouth goes dry, hands clammy against his bare chest as you push yourself up slowly. A look of panic strikes across his features as he thinks you’re getting up to leave—to run away from him—all over again. His face relaxes when you stay perched on his torso, legs straddling either side of his muscular body, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Jungkook…” you finally speak after a couple moments of silence, his thumbs rubbing at the skin where your hip folds in your position. “I don’t—“ you pause, unsure of what to say. You don’t what?

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it Y/N,” his tone is patient, as if he’s walking on eggshells to test the waters in your response.

You let out a deep breath, your eyes wandering around your room aimlessly. Subconsciously your nails are grazing his chest as you ponder. He’s right once a-fucking-gain; you had thought about it. Nearly everyday since you two broke up. You thought about it when you were sucking another guys cock. You thought about it when another guy was balls deep inside of you. You dreamed about it on a nightly basis. Being with Jungkook was the happiest times of your life thus far. You betrayed each other though—in the worst ways possible—and you were afraid that guilt would never go away and the trust would never come back. It’s why you have had to keep him at an arms length, only using him when you liked—because he had proved you wrong in every scenario since. You wanted your thoughts about Jungkook to be negative—to keep you in that place so you wouldn’t seem like the girl who crawled back to her cheating ex. However, as each day passes on without Jungkook in your life in the way you know he’s supposed to be—you couldn’t care less if you looked that to way to other people.

“Baby say something,” he interrupts your thoughts, snapping you back down to reality. Your eyes meet his chocolate ones; so big and full of life. Jungkook pushes himself up, maneuvering to fully sit up as he continues to hold onto you closely. Your noses brush against each other as he grabs the side of your neck tenderly. You needed Jungkook in more ways than one—but first and foremost, you needed time.

“I love you too Jungkook,” you nod, your words true to your heart, “But—“ Jungkook tenses up beneath you, “I need to think about it… with everything going on, I just need to figure my shit out.”

It’s not the answer Jungkook was hoping for. He stares at you, somewhat lifeless, his heart crushing in his chest. Of course he understands where you’re coming from—after all he was the one to originally pull away those weeks ago in his practice studio. He’s always been a little selfish—a lot fucking selfish—too greedy for his own fucking good. His greed is what lead him to make idiotic choices that turned into lifetime regrets, but this time—he wasn’t going to let greed get the best of him.

“Okay.”

You were expecting him to fight you, but his answer makes you so content you almost regret not jumping all over him again—making him yours again. You restrain though, knowing that he’s respecting your decision to which you are thankful for. If this was going to be on your time, you knew what you needed to do. You were scared that he wouldn’t wait for you forever, but the way he holds you close despite everything—tells you otherwise.

Neither one of you say anything else—unsure of what to say or how to say anything else at this point. It was clear—the two of you wanted to work it out and get back together and you weren’t going to take advantage of him anymore.

It wasn’t long after when you found yourself showering the mess you made off of each other. The innocence didn’t last long when he ends up making you come one more time around his cock, convulsing until he does the same. He makes sure to dry you off gently, skin still sensitive from his touches. He nuzzles into your neck, wrapping his strong arms around your towel covered front.

“Goddamit, Jungkook.”

“What?” He asks, eyes wide and scared he’s done something wrong.

“Your hair,” you can’t help but laugh as you watch the purple hair dye droplets fall onto your collarbone and down to the white fluffy towel wrapped around you.

He chuckles with you, muttering a sorry before grabbing another towel himself to dry his hair. You roll your eyes at his actions, knowing that you were definitely going to have to bleach the fabric a couple times to remove the purple haze. You watch him with domestic eyes, his muscles contracting and relaxing as he moves around your tiny bathroom. This was too real to keep putting up a wall. You couldn’t crack right now though—tonight was the most important night of your life.

The two of you make it back to your room and Jungkook quickly gets dressed in the clothes he came here in. You follow suit, slipping into another pair of shorts and a sweatshirt for the time being. Unable to control yourself, you saunter over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He returns your hug quickly, resting his head on your own.

“I’m sorry Jungkook,” you mutter into his chest, “I’ve been so horrible to you—“

“Don’t say that,” he replies and he feel him shaking his head, “I forgive you Y/N… I’m ready to move forward whenever you are.”

You smile into his chest, butterflies piling up into your stomach. You’re about to respond but your moments of warmth and bliss are interrupted when you hear the front of your apartment door open. You know immediately that it’s Lisa but your stomach drops when you hear two other voices behind her. Jimin and Hoseok.

“I should go,” Jungkook murmurs as he pulls away from you. You only give him a nod, preparing yourself for the worst as soon as you two walk out of your room.

Your three bandmates are chattering aimlessly around the small dining room table until you appear with Jungkook trailing right behind you.

“Oh Jesus,” Lisa mutters when she sees the sight. Given yours and Jungkook’s wet hair, the three of them have to know exactly what just went down between you him. Fuck.

“H-hey,” you greet your band with a grimace, turning over your shoulder to look up at Jungkook’s pretty face, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s not looking at you as he nods, his gaze focused on the three sets of eyes at stare at you and him. He finds his way out of your apartment, leaving you standing alone a few feet away from your band. You hang your head low, shuffling your feet against the floor to sit down with them at your 4-person table.

“Hey,” Hobi is the first one to speak after the painful silence, “We picked up Lisa this morning and wanted to check in on you after last night.”

“I think she’s doing just fine,” Lisa remarks snarlingly, crossing her arms over her chest as she sits back further into the seat.

“Lisa,” Jimin speaks this time as you roll your eyes.

“What?! You want to make a fucking a scene last night only to turn around and fuck the very guy you were mad at?”

“Fuck you Lisa,” you spit angrily knowing she doesn’t even know the full story. You understand where Jungkook’s temperament came from about you jumping to conclusions.

“Stop it—both of you,” Hobi chimes back in with annoyance lacing his tone, “We shouldn’t be fighting on days like today.”

“Well when the leader of our fucking band doesn’t act like a leader anymore, it’s fucking exhausting,” she glances your way and you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Your leg bounces up and down uncontrollably.

“Jesus fuck did you—“

“No—Lisa’s right guys,” you sigh deeply, “I haven’t been myself the past couple months and I realized that I’ve taken out my anger on the people I care about the most.”

“Y/N,” Jimin says softly; gentle and kind, “But you with your dad and—“

“I can’t keep using that an excuse to hurt everyone around me, I’m even hurting myself by not taking any steps forward,” you finally have the courage to look up from your picked cuticles. You really should paint your nails before tonight. “I’m sorry I haven’t completely been here and I’m sorry for keeping secrets from you guys about helping Jungkook and his band.”

Jimin hangs his head low, a hand running through his hair as he contemplates what to say.

“I didn’t want you guys to be upset with me—“

“Lisa already told us Y/N,” Hobi says and you quickly give her a glare that resembles a ‘really?’.

“There was no point in trying to hide it,” she shrugs her shoulders aimlessly. You breathe in deeply, knowing she’s right. Who were you kidding? There was no point in hiding it. Jungkook was right, Lisa was right—everyone would find out eventually.

“I know,” you mutter, “I just—I didn’t want you guys to be upset with me. I’ve already been absent enough, I didn’t want it to seem like I was abandoning you.”

“I think I—we,” Jimin corrects himself, though you know he actually is referring to himself, “We were just more upset that you didn’t tell us. Yeah it sucks we gotta share you but it’s fine… really Y/N,” he continues and you can’t help but send him a small smile.

“You guys always come first, you know that right?” You reassure. Your dad always instilled in you—once you start something, you finish it. And Violet had a long way to go—quitting wasn’t an option for you.

“Hell yeah,” Hobi smiles, bumping your knee from under the table, “We wouldn’t be here without you babe.”

“Exactly,” Jimin smiles and he grabs your hand, squeezing it momentarily, “Hobi and I are gonna head out but we’ll see you guys later? We’re meeting around five, right?”

The four of you stand up and Hobi comes over to you, sweeping you up in a big hug. All the worries in the pit of your stomach suddenly go away as the room feels 10 times lighter than before. You don’t know why you were always so anxious about everything. You suppose you get it from your dad—always worried about what’s next or what’s going to happen or what will people think of me? At the end of the day, with these people around you who care about you so deeply—you have realized everything will be all right.

“We’re gonna kick Whailen ass tonight,” Jimin says to you, giving you a hug too before he leaves with Hoseok, “Mess up a couple chords if you’re feeling ballsy,” he gives you a wink and you can’t help but laugh at his statement. The thought had crossed your mind during practices with them—but you know in your heart you couldn’t do that to Jungkook, especially Yoongi—he would have you by the throat.

After your drummer and lead guitarist leave, the lighter atmosphere seems to have dissipated when you realize one thing. Lisa had barely spoken to you since she walked in. The way she walks past you and back into her room across the apartment says she’s clearly still upset with you.

“Lisa wait,” you call out, following her footsteps closely. She doesn’t answer you as she roams around her room, gathering what seems to be clothes and underwear to change into. “Are you really still mad at me?”

She drops what she is doing, crossing her arms with a huff, “I’m not mad at you Y/N, I’m just—“ she pauses running a hand through her dark hair, “You know you’re my best fucking friend. I don’t want you and Jungkook to keep crawling back to each other the way you are. It’s toxic and it’s hurting both of you.”

Your posture falls as you mimic her actions, your arms folding across your boobs, “I know,” you nod, “We talked about it this morning—“

“I think you two did more than talk,” she interjects.

You hide a smile, “Regardless—we agreed to work on our communication and move past whatever this is,” you wave your hand aimlessly, “He said he wants to try again.”

She tilts her head, “As in… like get back together?” She asks, a nod coming from your shortly after, “Well what did you say?”

“I said I needed time to think about it,” you shrug.

“Do you actually?”

Her question is somewhat loaded. The look in her big eyes tells you everything she’s thinking. She’s the one person you know—aside from family—who can read you like an open book.

“I don’t know,” you whine, “I just wanna get through tonight and then think about my fucked up love life okay?”

“I won’t argue with you on that,” she tsks,” Whatever is going to make you happy, I’m going to be happy for you. If that’s Jungkook then fine—it’s not my business… just learn from the past okay?”

You nod stepping forward some with your arms outreached. She returns your hug forcefully but lovingly. She’s been there for you since the beginning—it was time you trusted her fully.

“Alright, I gotta shower,” she breaks the hug.

“So you’re not mad at me?” You ask her with big eyes as she gathers her things up.

“No,” she smiles, taking a piece of your now damp-almost dried hair in her fingers, “You showered with Jungkook didn’t you?”

You feel heat rising to your cheeks, a short laugh emitting from you. You swat her hand away, “So what if I did?”

She narrows her eyes at you, slapping your thigh with the underwear in her other hand, “Because I would like to know if I might be stepping on Jungkook’s kids or not.”

You let out a cackle, making sure to flip her off on your way back to your room.

____

You were more nervous than usual. You had barely eaten anything all day, using coffee to suppress your appetite this in turn making you more jittery than normal. Your hands were clammy and your stomach was in knots. There was a lump in your throat and a weight in your chest as heavy as stone. You had probably changed outfits six times. You settled on something different from your usual affair with slips and converse opting for straight legged leather pants that laced up your hips and a cropped tank. Your lips were still painted your signature red, hair a little messy from anxiously running your hands over it so many times.

Violet was scheduled to be the 5th band to go on once the competition started. Whalien 52 was going to be the 8th, giving you a bit of a break before you had to step back out on stage. Each band was given 3 songs to present so you had exactly 6 to perform. Keeping the songs separate in your mind was easy, but actually going out to play the different chords was going to be more difficult. You realized that’s where most of your nerves was coming from—not from your band, but Whailen. You wanted to win, knowing Violet was the best band here, but you also couldn’t fuck up while playing with Whailen. They deserved their chance as much as you.

“Y/N?” Jimin asks, nudging your from your thoughts. In your heels you don’t have to look up at him, looking him directly in the eyes, “You okay?” He knew you were off the moment him and Hobi met up with you and Lisa.

“Just nervous is all,” you dismiss, “A little nauseous but it’ll fade.”

He nods once, throwing an arm around you to pull you closer to him. Currently you and him had wandered off away from your “dressing room” so to speak to check out the venue one last time before the show was to begin.

“I am too,” he says with a short laugh. You only give him a glance knowing that’s a shocker. Jimin was the one in your band who always held it together the best. Looking out at the masses of people gathering at the venue though, it was understandable. The competition was being held at an outside pavilion despite the chilliness being that it was the middle of fall now. You didn’t ask specifically how many people would be here, personally not wanting to know for your own sake, but you had heard close to 4,000. It would be the biggest show you’ve played in your career thus far.

Backstage was hectic with many sound technicians, electrical engineers, other people from bands checking out the audience filing in, and people from Geffen Records sauntering around frantically making sure everything was ready to go. You and Jimin decide on going back to your dressing room, not wanting to be in the way of everyone trying to do their job.

You walk back into the dressing room to find Lisa tweezing Hobi’s eyebrows which you take no surprise to. The sight amuses you, briefly making your forget about the task at hand.

“Lisa I swear to God if—“

“I’m not fucking up your pretty face Hobi I promise,” she remarks as he lets out a yelp of pain.

“When do we go on again?” He asks to no one in particular.

“Fifth,” you answer monotonously going over to your guitar case. You open it up, relaxing once you see the lavender Fender. You briefly considered choosing to play one of your dad’s guitars, but you knew that he would have wanted you to play the one you were most comfortable with.

“Do you guys wanna go—ouch!” Hobi jerks away from Lisa as she giggles, finally leaving his poor face alone, “Watch the others before we go on?” He finishes.

“Sure—“

“No—“

You and Jimin answer simultaneously, yours being the latter. You look over at Lisa who only shrugs, muttering she didn’t care or not.

“How about Hobi and I go watch the first couple and then we’ll come back and get you two? Maybe you should eat something Y/N… warm up your voice and stuff?” Jimin offers graciously.

“Okay, that’s fine,” you give them a small smile as they leave the dressing room, leaving you alone with Lisa. While Jimin’s words were kind, you definitely weren’t going to stomach any food right now that was for sure.

“Have you talked to Jungkook since earlier?”

“No,” you sink down into the small couch, slipping off your shoes for the time being. You meant your words—you had tunnel vision on the competition. Jungkook could wait. You feel around for your phone under your thighs when you feel it buzzing.

“Listen Y/N if it’s going to be too much to play with them, you know you don’t have to,” she offers as she sits down beside you, tucking her legs underneath her.

You give her a short glare, “It’s fine Lisa… I wouldn’t back out on them now.”

You open your phone after you have messages from a few people and a couple missed calls. The calls would have to wait to be returned. But the messages that catch your eye the most are from Jungkook and your mother.

You only faintly read Jungkook’s noticing a red heart at the end of his, focusing on the one from your mother.

[Mom 5:37 PM] Good luck tonight sweetie. Your dad would be so proud of you. I’m sorry I can’t be there, but we both will be in spirit.

You heart leaps. Your mom was not one to approve of your music endeavors as much as your father, so while the message isn’t much; it’s something.

“We got this Y/N,” Lisa grabs your knee, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You grab her hand tightly, knowing she’s been on this journey with you the longest. You know she’s just as nervous as you are the way her hand slightly shakes in yours. We got this.

Down the hall in another dressing room, sits Whailen 52 gathered together in silence. Taehyung was sat on his phone trying to distract himself with a game. Yoongi was relaxed on the couch, stretched out nonchalantly—probably the least nervous of everyone here. Jin was plucking his bass at random, making sure it was in perfect tune. Namjoon was there too; sat at a stool drumming with one stick in hand. Jungkook was sat on the opposite end of Yoongi, foot tapping up and down nervously. He was going between biting his nails and picking at the callouses on his hands. He felt sick. If he ever thought he was nervous before this show—those previous were nothing.

He glances at his phone. 5:57 PM. The first band is about to start after short introductions. Everyone could hear the crowd all the way back down these hallways. He hadn’t dared to wander around to see how many people were actually here. He refused to sike himself out before he even sat down behind the drum kit. Fuck, he thinks, he really wishes he was playing guitar tonight. He would feel a lot more confident than he does right now.

“Y/N and her band are going fifth,” Yoongi says aloud breaking the silence, “We should support her and go watch them…”

Jungkook looks around the room, big eyes waiting for someone else to respond. Namjoon speaks first; “Why?” He remarks.

“Did you seriously just ask that?” Yoongi mutters pinching in between his eyebrows, “He never fucking learns…” he says in a half whisper but Jungkook hears him clearly. “She texted me, she said she’d like us there.”

This—gets Jungkook’s attention. You were texting Yoongi? But not texting him? He pulls out his phone, immediately going straight to his messages with you. Did he overstep with you? Did he finally scare you away?

[Jungkook 4:13 PM] thank you for this morning. good luck tonight. i’ll see you later. ❤️

He shakes his head trying to not let him get to tied up in his intrusive thoughts. It was fine. If he was nervous, he couldn’t imagine how you were feeling. He would see you soon anyway. It was fine.

___

You were standing in the wings of the amphitheater, nerves coursing through your body like heroin convulsing through your veins. It was loud—too loud. The crowd was deafening. The fourth band finished their set to great applause and cheers. Perhaps you had underestimated just how good everyone here was. Lisa, Jimin, and Hobi were all feeling the same. Hobi stood behind you, drum sticks in hand jumping in place to ease some of his energy. Lisa was to your left, Jimin to your right looking out over the crowd.

“Fuck,” Jimin marvels, turning towards you, “You guys good?”

Hobi approaches the three of you, all of them looking to you to say something.

You let out a deep breath, “Yeah,” you pause, “We’re good at what we do, we can do this. My dad always told me if you can dream it, you can do it.”

The four of you give each other one last tight hug before the host says;

“And the next band of the night comes right here out of the city, female-led and impressive as hell—Violet!”

The next few moments are a blur. You are strapping up your guitar and plugging it into the amp cord, walking out onto the biggest stage you’ve ever set foot on, stage lights blinding you for a moment you almost miss how many people are here. Your vision then focuses and your stomach drops once again. The pavilion is huge and in the time you first scoped it out—the crowd had doubled. Everyone is already cheering for you which makes you smile a bit.

You look over to your right, Lisa marveling at the crowd. To your left, Jimin isn’t looking at the crowd, but giving you a reassuring smile. You glance back over your shoulder, Hobi beaming a bright smile to the crowd as he tweaks with the drum set for his liking. Back in the wings, a sound technician gives you a thumbs up whenever for whenever you’re ready.

You turn to your microphone, letting out a deep breath to steady your heart rate. You bite your lip nervously and before you even realize it, you’re speaking and addressing the biggest crowd you’ve step in front of.

“Good evening,” you break a smile, “We’re Violet… I want to dedicate our set to my dad who I know is looking over me right now,” this returns even more applause. The majority of the people must know who you are, or at least who your father is as some in the crowd send you waves of “rock on” hand signs. It calms you a bit and you hope your dad can feel the love.

“Ready guys?” You turn back to your band and they all nod, just waiting on your cue. Hobi counts the four of you in and you begin to strum your guitar. It’s such a simple melody and it’s slower than what the crowd had been used to—but symbolic for you in more ways than one.

“Every time that I sell myself to you… I feel a little bit cheaper than I need to,” you pause for a breath, “I will tear petals off of you, rose red I will make you tell the truth.”

As you sing, you realize that your nervousness is finally subsiding, turning into bubbling adrenaline.

“Was she asking for it? Was she asking nice? Was she asking for it? Did she ask you twice?”

While the crowd isn’t moshing or necessarily jumping up and down with excitement—it’s exactly why you chose this as the opener. You knew it would be different and would make you stand out. It was a risk for sure, but you hoped that it would pay off.

“And if you live through this with me I swear that I will die for you, and if you live through this with me I swear that I will die for you—“

The song picks up and so does your voice—

“Was she asking for it? Was she asking nice? Yeah she was asking for it… did she ask you twi-ice—“

The song finishes after a few more moments of strings and Violet is met with huge applause by the crowd. You give out a smile, looking over to Jimin who gives you a wink. Fuck, this felt good. You could get used to this.

With two more songs to go—you suddenly felt on top of the world. A Violet rendition of Umbrella by Rihanna is what you play next. The crowd appreciates some more upbeat music coming their way and your fingers strum your chords naturally. One thing is for sure—you were made to do this. With your final song starting, you were sad that you couldn’t stay on longer to showcase everything Violet had to offer.

The final song was an important one that took your band a few days to figure out what you wanted to play. You had debated playing an original, but you knew that it would showcase was Violet could bring as band.

You had started writing the song a couple months after yours and Jungkook's breakup but only finishing it recently with your life turn of events. The melody and chords were simple despite the heavy lyrics you came up with at 4 AM one night.

"Why do all of the monsters come out at night? Why do we sleep where want to hide? Why do I run back to you like I don't mind if you fuck up my life."

The crowd seems to instantly enjoy it. The song brings you back to those nights with Jungkook that always ended painfully. You feel as if the two of you had come so far since then which made it a little easier to sing now.

"Tell me pretty lies, look me in my face, tell me that you love me even if it's fake..."

"Dead, thinking about you you're in my head; even without you I still feel dead. Why do I run back to you like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?"

"Like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?"

The songs ends with Hobi clashing against the drums and you feel a weight leave your shoulders. You open your eyes, blinded by the lights again before a smile spreads across your face.

Loud cheers and applause errupts, sending chills down your spine. Your whole band thanks everyone before you exit, the four of you holding hands to bow before you leave the stage. You were sweaty, shaking, and high on excitement. When the four of you exit the stage, you have barely gotten your guitar off when Jimin is scooping you up from behind, Lisa jumping into Hobi’s arms. All of you guys are squealing, out of breath, excited, uneasy—every emotion in the book. You think you might cry when you give thought to your dad being here with you. He would have loved to see you do this.

“That was fucking crazy!” Hobi yells with ecstasy, “Fuck Y/N they loved you holy shit, I haven’t drummed like that in years! Jesus Christ!” He’s talking out of his ass at the moment but you don’t blame him. You on the other hand are mute, unable to process what just happened. Everything went to plan—you sounded so smooth and tight. It was fucking perfect.

Once you get back to your dressing room, you immediately take off your heels to aid your throbbing feet, throwing yourself down on the couch. You weren’t too sweaty, the chill of the evening keeping you at bay, but you still felt hot, sticky, and a bit shaky. Your three other members were continuing to chatter in their excitement but you really had nothing else to say. You knew you did as best as you could hitting every note and chord timely. There was nothing you couldn’t change and you refused to dwell on it, especially when it dawns that you have to go back out and play again soon.

You feel around again for your phone that you had left in room, finding it on the floor charging next to you. You pick it up quickly, realizing you have a new slew of text messages from friends and peers who must be out in the crowd somewhere congratulating you and your band. You make a mental note to answer them later when your mind wasn’t on other things. A new text from Jungkook also catches your eye. You hadn’t texted him back from earlier yet so you tap on his section, reading over it promptly.

[Jungkook 4:13 PM] thank you for this morning. good luck tonight. i’ll see you later. ❤️

[Jungkook 8:18 PM] you were incredible. i’ll come get you before we get ready to go on

You decide to respond by giving him your dressing room number and a quick thank you. The same bundle of nerves begins to stir in your tummy thinking about the new set of chords you need to produce. Jimin and Lisa are packing up their instruments which makes you a little jealous. You wished you could just go out with them and not have to worry about anything else up until they announced the winner of the evening.

“You good Y/N? You haven’t said much?” Jimin comments looking over to you as you curl up on the couch comfortably, scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

“Yeah,” you give him a glance, “Just nervous about the rest of the night.”

He nods promptly, drifting on over to sit beside you. Naturally, you stretch your legs out across his lap, his hands massaging your calves softly. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the sound of the next band playing. You were trying to go through the lists if bands that had yet to go…. Whailen… Femme & Melancholy…. Lithium…. Mayday.

Truthfully the only one you were threatened by was Whailen and Mayday—the latter only being that they were already signed. The irony of feeling threatened by Jungkook and Taehyung’s band when you were about to step foot on stage with them. Knowing both of them for years now, it was the last thing you would have ever thought you would have done.

About an half an hour goes by of sitting with your band reflecting on the past few years together and how much tonight could change all of your lives. You and Lisa are laughing about your first meeting ten years ago and how much you two actually hated each other at first when there is a sudden knock on your door. Everyone gives you a glance and you mutter a quick hold on before you get up, swinging the door open to be met with a soft gaze from a familiar set of eyes.

“Hi,” you greet Jungkook and he gives you a small smile in return. Your hear rate instantly picks up when you make eye contact. He’s stunning as ever.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes glancing back into the room behind you, “You ready?”

Jungkook awkwardly stands at the door as you quickly put your shoes back on in silence. Jimin watches Jungkook carefully from the couch, noticing that Jungkook has yet to take his eyes off you. Jimin never intended to get in the middle of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. What happened between you and him was a one-off occurrence that was a stupid drunken decision. While he was never the biggest fan of Jungkook to begin with—him cheating on you and the pain he caused he—he thought he was helping you overcome him. Now here they are, six months later and you and Jungkook are still as dopey in love as ever; whether you two had admitted it to each other, it wasn’t his business. Jimin truly never has liked you in a romantic way; he admires your talent, your drive, your passions—he just hopes that Jungkook can give you everything you deserve. Frankly Jimin knew you weren’t ever going to let anyone else break down your walls, so he might as well wish you the best.

Jungkook offers to carry your guitar case which you happily let him. Your hands are becoming shaky again thinking about going out to play with a band whom you’ve never been with. Whailen had been together years before Violet could have even been thought about being formed. They were tight and their sound reflected that—you didn’t want it to seem like you were an obvious temporary replacement.

“Do you want us to come watch?” Hobi speaks for the first time since Jungkook came in.

“Please?” You sound like you’re begging at this point but seeing a familiar face out in the crowd wasn’t a want, it was a need right now. Your band wishes you and Jungkook good luck as you leave to begin your trek back down to the main stage.

“Are you nervous?” Jungkook asks as you walk close beside him.

“Mhm,” you mumble, unable to come up with any words. With Jungkook’s free hand, he grabs yours and intertwines your fingers together. He immediately notices how shaky and clammy you are, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you nervous?” You retort his question, finally finding your voice. His touch was comforting and you found yourself leaning into him more when the view of the side stage finally comes into view. You spot Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi all standing by, watching as the current band closes out their final song.

“Shitting bricks as we speak,” he says with a laugh. You give him a nudge of your own reassurance before you join him in a laugh.

“There’s our woman of the hour,” Jin greets you first with a smile. Him and Yoongi look relaxed, but that wasn’t a surprise to anyone.

“You guys did great Y/N,” Yoongi compliments and you thank him quickly, your mind elsewhere. The band on stage, Lithium, wraps up their rendition of Fall Out Boy’s Sugar We’re Going Down to loud screams and praise. Lithium was from another city which is why you personally had no heard much about them. They were pretty damn good from the snippet you heard and the leader singer was quite cute.

Lithium quickly exits the stage to where all of you are standing. They’re all sweaty and panting as they pass you by. Speaking of the leader singer, his eyes find yours and he sends you a quick wink and smirk. He yells an explicit to his band in excitement and it takes you a moment to realize Jungkook’s hand is still squeezing yours, his eyes following the lead singer until he’s out of sight.

“Dick,” he mutters and it makes you smile. As territorial as ever.

Not long after they clear the stage, the announcer is introducing Whalien 52 to the crowd.

“And please welcome another band from the heart of this city—Whailen 52!”

Finally Jungkook drops your hand as he prepares himself grabbing his drum sticks. You situate your guitar across you, a sound technician plugging your guitar in for you this time. Once Whailen is situation, you begin to walk across the stage following Taehyung’s lead. Jungkook separates from your side going to the drum kit and you walk to stage left of Taehyung.

The crowd is just as jarring as the first time you walked across the stage. It’s loud, hot, humid with sweat—nearly suffocating. You look out into the crowd briefly, noticing people closer to the front giving you confused looks. You choose to ignore them, glancing back towards Jungkook who has sat at the drums with an unreadable expression. His eyes meet yours briefly before he turns to look at Taehyung; relishing in the cheers from the crowd with a sly smirk across his lips. You feel as if your heart may beat out of your chest, fingers may drop your guitar pick from the shakiness in your fingertips, your throat going dry in all the same breath. You look across the stage to meet Yoongi’s gaze—it’s soft and comforting. As if he can read your emotions, he nods a couple times, giving you some needed reassurance.

“Thank you, thank you,” Taehyung begins to speak, sending a wink over to someone in the crowd, “We’re Whalien 52 and uh, we hope you enjoy our set.”

Jungkook’s drum sticks counts in three, two one—the first song, a cover of Silverchair’s “Ana’s Song.” Similar to Violet’s set, Whalien agreed on a starting off a little slower, wanting to pick up their vibe as the short set continued. Taehyung’s voice complimented Daniel John’s well as he opens the song with a deep emotion you never knew he had until you began practicing with them last week.

Luckily for you, the chords for the song were easy for you, strumming the chords lightly until it required you and Taehyung to strum heavier together as the chorus picked up. As usual, your nerves have greatly decreased as you feel more content in your element. You find that playing lead with no vocals was definitely less nerve wracking than your normal gig. Sure it was weird not playing in your own band, but this was still fun for you. It will always be fun for you—you couldn’t thank your father for introducing you to your passion enough. The thought of him makes you smile and as the song closes, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. Nerves were nearly zero and you felt confident—a dangerous combination.

Taehyung speaks to the crowd for a moment as everyone continues to yell and cheer for the band. You had to admit, this crowd was one of the best you’ve ever played for. They’re enthusiastic about each band, appreciating everyone for what they bring, and silence hadn’t been an option for them. As you glance over the crowd one more time, your eyes land on Jimin, Lisa, and Hobi. They’re standing to your right, far enough where they couldn’t hear you if you tried to speak but close enough where you could make out their faces. Lisa blows you a giant kiss while Jimin and Hobi gives you reassuring smiles. It brings butterflies to your stomach knowing that they are not mad at you. If anything, they seem more than proud and you couldn’t ask to be a leader for anyone else.

The next song, an original song written by Namjoon and Yoongi—Fake Love—begins to play as you strum your guitar to the beautiful chords. As much of an ass Kim Namjoon could be, he was a damn good song and melody writer. Jungkook soon comes in heavy with the drums and the song is shaping to how it’s supposed to sound. Between the lyrics, the way it slows and picks up, it truly is great. Jungkook even brings in some backing vocals which rounds out everything nicely. As you continue to strum, you glance back at him hitting the drums rhythmically and smooth like butter. You knew playing guitar was one talent—playing the drums was completely different. You had to have groove, stamina, strength, a musicality that wasn’t even on your level. While guitar was definitely yours and Jungkook’s niche, he looked just as comfortable behind the drum kit.

Fake Love is over before you realize it and you end up giving Taehyung a smile which he seems to appreciate. As the lead of a band, compliments and reassurance were never enough. The pressure of it all could be crushing. Your father, while not the lead of the band, experienced pressure all too well and you’re sure it’s one of the reasons he did was he did. You weren’t excusing him for leaving you and your mom alone, but you knew maybe if someone had just told him one more time he was great—he would still be here. You’d be damned if anything like that happened again in your lifetime. You knew exactly was Kim Taehyung was feeling right now and despite this not being your own band—you wanted him to feel what you would want to feel—confident and damn good in his abilities.

The last song—which was the song of your choosing—“Do I Wanna Know” by the Arctic Monkey’s, starts with the iconic heavy drum beat, the crowd clapping along as you come in with the guitar chords soon after.

It had been a personal favorite of yours for years and you knew how well Alex Turner’s voice would fit Taehyung’s deep vocal abilities. Whailen was excited about the song choice when you were first practicing and with the crowd response—it was a good choice.

“Crawlin’ back to you, ever thought of callin’ when you’ve had a few… cause I always do,” Taehyung sings the words but the crowd as nearly overtaken him in decibel strength. “Maybe I’m too, busy being yours to fall for somebody new—“

For whatever hell-stricken reason, with these lyrics, you glance back at Jungkook who surprisingly is already looking your way. His gaze catches your breath and you nearly mess up a chord, nearly playing an Am where it should have been an Em. You don’t feel nerves looking at him, but you feel something. A fire deep within your gut, tingles down your spine, lips dry from your mouth being slightly parted. When you had chosen this song for Whailen, you and Jungkook hadn’t fucked and discussed getting back together. You can’t help but feel the irony as Taehyung sings the song with as much burning fire that’s in your and Jungkook’s relationship. You have to look away before you truly fuck up the song.

“Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways… was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay, the nights were made for saying things you can’t say tomorrow day…too busy being yours, ever thought of callin’ darlin’… crawling back to you…”

The song ends to loud and eruptive cheers, each member of Whalien letting out a visible sigh—shoulders falling in relaxation. Yoongi and Jin give each other a big hug from the opposite side of you where you stand. The five of you gather in the middle of the stage to give a final bow to the crowd. You feel like you can finally relax, knowing your night of playing music is finally over.

“Thank you all again! And thank you to Violet’s wonderful lead, Y/N for helping us out with this set!” Taehyung’s last words in the microphone surprise you, but you’re grateful for them.

As all of you exit the stage, you hand your guitar to a sound technician and before you can register anything, you are lifted from the ground, strong arms gripping you tightly. You squeal slightly but the tattooed arm around your front eases you. Jungkook sets you down and you turn around, to give him a proper hug. Both of you are sweaty but you couldn’t care less considering what you two got into this morning.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Jungkook rambles into your ear as he picks you up again for a moment. When sets you down, your hands hold the sides of his face gently and you give him a smile, “Your dad would be so proud of you.”

In words make your heart swell. His words from this morning play over and over in your head. “Let’s just stop this and do it for real.”

Both of you stare for what feels like an eternity, the noise of everything around you drowning out, making it seem as if it’s just the two of you. You know exactly what your answer is and you’re about to give him that by leaning in, touching his nose to yours. Unfortunately, he breaks away first, giving you a small smile before he turns to Taehyung, giving him the biggest brotherly hug you’ve ever seen. You look down in disappointment but you also understand now isn’t the time or place.

You end up hugging Yoongi, with him uttering a million thanks into your ear as well.

“You’re seriously the best Y/N—a fucking rockstar,” he beams his gummy smile at you, “Goddamn I can’t believe we did that.”

“Y/N—“

Your name falls out of Namjoon’s mouth, who has appeared from wherever he watched the set. You give him a small smile, the wall that you build around yourself every time he walks in your vicinity naturally coming up.

“Hey,” you greet him.

“I just wanna say I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” he pauses scratching the back of his beanie covered head, “I know I’ve been a dick to you and I honestly just didn’t want to admit how bad I fucked up and I didn’t want to admit how talented you actually are.”

“Oh,” you’re shocked by his words, the wall coming down slowly.

“I thought you were just handed everything but I hadn’t stepped back and thought about what you’ve actually been going through and I know I’m rambling, but fuck just thank you so much.. Even if we don’t win, we couldn’t have done this without you.”

A feeling of warmth radiates through your veins and you being you, you pull Kim Namjoon of all people in for a hug. Though it’s short, he gladly returns it with a squeeze around your frame. Jungkook was right. No matter what happens—your dad would be proud of you and you knew you had made the right decision.

After about twenty minutes back in the waiting rooms backstage, you follow Whalien out into the crowd to find your bandmates. Lisa is the first to greet you with a big hug. Violet and Whailen stand together in harmony; Taehyung talking to Hobi, Lisa chatting with Yoongi, even Jimin and Jungkook exchanging nice words with each other. You realize that you and Jungkook had barely talked since the set ended and you can’t help but notice the hardened look on his face as he watches the last band performing—Mayday, close out their set. Mingyu and his band are damn good and you can only hope that their former accolades aren’t enough to overshadow Violet, or Whailen for that matter.

You make your way over to Jungkook through the tight squeeze of the crowd, nudging him slightly when you approach his right side. He glances down at your frame before pulling you close by throwing an arm around your shoulder. Again, it’s like the world stops and just you two as you look up at him. You had changed into some white sneakers when you had went backstage, returning to your normal height against his frame.

Before his eyes turn back to the stage, he presses his lips against your temple.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask him close to his ear so he can hear properly.

He shrugs, “Nervous,” is all he says. It’s enough for you to nod in understanding. When Jungkook went quiet, it wasn’t personal and it was just something you had to deal with. You felt nervous too, knowing that your entire future could change within the next 20 minutes.

The two of you hold onto each other’s side as Mayday leaves the stage once they're finally finished. The lights change on the stage, the crowd gets even louder, and you can sense your chest tensing up. It’s not until when the host of the competition, along with a few executives from Geffen Records step out onto the stage. A younger man holds an envelope, whilst an older man grabs the microphone from the host after some introductions.

“Thank you all for coming,” the older man, a senior international executive at the record company speaks with confidence. “We have been spoiled tonight with so many amazing performances from some amazing bands. With a record deal, one band will change forever after tonight but if there’s anything I’ve learned in my career of 30 years in the music industry—don’t give up on your dreams. If you want it to happen—make your shit happen.”

Someone—Lisa intertwines her hand with your right hand, Jungkook holding onto your left hand. Jimin and Hobi are tense; Taehyung is looking at the ground with his eyes closed; Namjoon and Jin look antsy; Yoongi looks stoic as he stares at the stage with slightly parted lips, squinting to focus his vision.

You try to force a smile to calm yourself, to tell yourself everything is fine—you got this. Violet was damn good. It had to work out—there was no other options. Your chest swells and your hands are clammy, but you know you deserve this more than anyone else here. You had built your whole life around this moment, the chance to make music until the day you die, the chance to become the next star, to carry on your father’s legacy—it would have to work out.

As the younger executive hands over the envelope and the whole crowd yells in anticipation.

“And the winner is—!”

It seems as if the world stops. Your chest falls, smile fading into the background of all the noise. You feel a lump form in your throat, nausea rushing to your stomach. Your knees nearly cave in, weak from the reality that’s hit you.

“—Mayday!”

_____

Back in the dressing room it’s silent. The band is packing everything up in defeat. You parted from Jungkook and Whailen for them to do the same. You no longer felt sick to your stomach. Only sadness and a little bit of anger. You kept thinking about what you could have done differently—played this song instead of that one, worn your usual dresses and sneakers, done this, done that. It was no use. Violet had lost. Whailen had lost. And you were back to square one.

Noticing your demeanor, Jimin wraps his arms around you protectively. You return his hug, feeling exhausted and weak. The only thing you wanted to do was go home and cry yourself to sleep. No tears had sprung yet, but you knew once you were alone, they would be ever flowing until the morning.

“I’m sorry guys,” you finally speak into Jimin’s chest. He looks down at you with concern.

“For what?” He asks; Hobi and Lisa turning to the two of you.

“I failed you guys,” you shake your head, pushing away from him to stay at an arms length.

“Oh my god, absolutely not,” Lisa consoles, swatting her hands aimlessly. She pulls you into a tight hug, Hobi and Jimin following suit where the four of you were holding on only to each other.

“Y/N you’re the best fucking leader we could ask for,” Hobi says, “Just because we didn’t win this stupid competition doesn’t mean our lives are over.”

“Yes it does,” you whine and you can only make out Jimin’s giggling.

“No it doesn’t,” he says, “Because we’re going to make shit happen.”

This ends up breaking you into a smile, glancing between your members. They’re not even bandmates at this point—they’re your family.

“Fuck, I love you guys,” you say. The four of you continue your group embrace and perhaps Jimin is right. You’re Violet—you’re Krist Vedder’s daughter—and most importantly, you’re you. You make shit happen.

It’s a little after midnight when you and your bandmates leave the venue. You’ve changed into a comfortable sweatsuit and large jacket to accommodate for the chilly weather. You didn’t realize how cold it actually was being on stage with the adrenaline and lights.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us?” Hobi was begging you to join them for a drink but with the depressive state your mind is in, you know that would end terribly for you.

“I’m good guys, I promise. I honestly just want to go home and sleep,” you say again. “When are you going to be home?” You ask Lisa.

Her hair pulled into a high ponytail, she smirks, “I’m meeting up with Baekhyun, so I might not be back until tomorrow.”

“You’ve been staying with him a lot,” Jimin says warningly with a raised brow. Lisa’s face scrunches up, turning slightly pink.

“Oh shit, my Uber’s here! I’ll see y’all later!” She runs off down the street to an SUV pulling up to the curb. The three of you wave her off ensuring she gets into the car safely.

“How are you getting home?”

“I may just walk,” you say with a shrug to your shoulders. Was it cold and a little too late for you to be walking by yourself? Yes. But your mind was racing at a million thoughts. You needed to calm yourself before the wave of emotions finally hit you.

“Y/N,” Jimin furrows his eyebrows.

“What? I just need some time to think,” you tell him honestly. “You know my place isn’t far from here anyways.”

“We know, it’s just—“

“Y/N?”

A third male voice says your name from behind the three of you. You immediately know who it is before you even turn around. Jimin and Hobi’s eyes meet Jungkook’s before yours do. As you turn around, Jungkook approaches the three of you, hands shoved into his black jacket, his hair shoved underneath a black cap.

“Hi,” you greet him with a small smile, an inner warmth radiating at the sight of him. Suddenly, all your worrisome thoughts seemed to wane, now only focusing on the man in front of you.

“Hey guys,” he nods to your two bandmates, his soft gaze then falling to you. He looks much more relaxed and poised than the last time you spoke. Neither one of you said anything to each other when Mayday was announced at the winner, parting backstage in silence.

“What are you still doing here?” You ask noticing that he’s all by himself.

“I was uh, waiting for you,” he clears his throat awkwardly and your heart lurches at the thought, but stiffens thinking about him waiting out in the cold for so long just for you.

You glance at your bandmates, who are looking between you and Jungkook curiously. Hobi and Jimin aren’t stupid—they can sense an unspoken tension between you two and they decide it’s best to leave you two be.

“Get her home safe man,” Jimin nudges Jungkook’s arm with his elbow, before giving you a small smile, “See ya later Y/N.”

You wave them off and it’s soon just you and Jungkook outside the venue pretty much all alone. You turn back to him, looking up at his frame.

“You okay?” You ask him, wrapping your arms around your frame as a chill goes down your body. A soft smile spreads across his face before he’s grabbing your hand, pulling you in the opposite direction of your apartment.

_____

Jungkook drags you to a convenience store where the two of you currently sit on a sidewalk, sharing a cup of piping hot ramen and cuddled up to each others side to keep warm. He slurps the noodles quietly and you can tell there’s something he’s not saying. You don’t know whether to push him or leave it be. At the moment, you decide on the latter.

“We used to do this all the time,” you say, bringing up memories of the first few months of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. The two of you managed to find yourself at convenience stores, eating junk or buying alcohol after long nights of band practice or gigs. 18 seemed so long ago and you two seem like such different people now. Honestly though—it’s a good thing. Growing up can be hell, but you and Jungkook are proof that you have to grow the fuck up to get to a healthy place.

Jungkook smiles with a chuckle, “I know, I think I used to eat my body weight in ramen as a teenager,” he pauses looking at the last bit of noodles and broth. He looks at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes that you love so much and you nod with a small laugh. He grins before eating the last of the food. He sets down the cup before letting out a deep sigh of relief.

You lean into his left side, one of his hands resting on your leg to pull you closer to him. It’s comfortable and it feels like home.

“You’ve been so quiet since the competition,” you mumble, opting to push him a little.

He sighs deeply, gaze still forward, “I guess I’m still processing everything,” he says with disappointment in his tone. You nod into his shoulder. You understand completely. You felt like you had built a glass house that had been shattered by a giant rock.

“I’m sorry,” is what you offer, looking up to his side profile. He glances over at you, his eyebrow piercing catching the street light for a moment.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, dropping his head slightly, “Though there wasn’t much we could do about it.”

His tone implies something—you don’t know what—but something. Almost accusatory. Furrowing your brows, you ask what he means.

He lets out a sarcastic laugh in response, “The competition was fucking rigged.”

You grip loosens on his arm some, your face draining any color left, mouth going dry. You nearly push back and say that’s ridiculous, but you stop yourself. As you had been working on with your therapist, you hold your tongue instead of jumping to conclusions. Why would Jungkook lie about that? What does he have to gain by saying that without any reason to back it up?

“Where did you hear that from?”

He rolls his tongue across his teeth; a habit he’s had for as long as you’ve known him. “Mingyu himself,” he laughs in disbelief, “Told me after I went to congratulate him.”

“That… sucks,” you don’t even know what to say. You felt numb; unsure of how exactly to feel. More sadness? Anger? Disappointment? Resentment?

“Apparently Geffen had eyes on Mayday for the past few months, but their small label wouldn’t sell Geffen any of their original masters unless they agreed to ensure Mayday won the battle of the bands,” Jungkook continues with details that you didn’t ask for, but you were appreciative for the information. It makes logical sense. Your dad had always educated you about expenses within the music industry and owning an artists masters was the most sought after position to have. Michael Jackson didn’t even own his own music.

“Well fuck,” you mutter, now able to pinpoint the one emotion rising in your body. “Is it weird that I feel somewhat relieved?”

Jungkook looks at you with a confused expression, “Uh—yes?”

“Think about it Guk,” you sit up a little bit to face him, “Would you want to be signed to label who can be bought off that easily? Over a battle of the bands competition with underground punk bands?”

Jungkook licks his lips with a small smile, “Well when you put it like that,” he can’t help but laugh at you some. His heart swells when he finally looks into your eyes—really looks into your eyes—since you’ve made the journey to the damn convenience store.

You find yourself unable to look away from him. He was your everything for so long and you’ve figured out with some time and space he still is your everything. No one will ever replace him. No one will ever make you feel the way he does. And you needed him to know that. You lean in, his lips meeting yours halfway. It’s as if you’re transported to the first night you met—sparks buzzing inside you as you move your lips against his. He cups the left side of your face gently and you hold the back of his head, scratching the base of his neck the way he likes.

“Jungkook,” you pull away, leaving little to no room between him and you, “I’ve thought about what you said this morning and you’re right,” you pause glancing down at your lap briefly to catch your breath. You’ve never felt this vulnerable with him but he had perhaps been the most open he’s ever been with you this morning. It’s your turn.

“I’ve thought about you everyday for nearly four goddamn years and I—I don’t want to stop. You were my best friend for so long and you still are my best friend. I want you in my life no matter what but I do want to be with you—I want to try again with you. Learn from our stupid, immature mistakes and find the best path for us,” you think he’s about to interrupt you but you shake your head quickly, “I started going to therapy and uh, it’s really helped me figure out why I’ve been acting the way I am and why I treated you so poorly. I’m still navigating through everything but I love you so much Jeon Jungkook and I don’t want it any other way.”

Jungkook stares at you blankly for a few moments, processing each word you’ve said. Without saying anything he embraces you in a tight hug, feeling a happiness he hasn’t felt in a long time. Not only does he feel happy; he feels calm; he feels excited, dopey, and in love. He couldn’t give a shit about the band competition. He has you. That’s what he needs.

“I love you so much Y/N,” he says into your hair, “I’ve been going to therapy too,” he pauses and you smile into his warm embrace. “I’ve made stupid, horrible mistakes, and I’ve hurt you so much and I’m working my shit out too but I hope that you’re willing to grow and grow old with me.”

He gets all the answer he needs when you kiss him silly again. “You’re not asking you to marry you, are you?” You pull away with a pointed look.

He laughs pecking your lips again, pulling you to sit on top of his lap, “Not yet babe, we gotta make it big first so I can buy you the big ass rock you deserve.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes, “You could propose with a ring pop and I would love it.”

Jungkook raises his pierced brow at you before an idea pops into his head. He kisses your forehead before he mumbles to stay put. He runs back into the (thankfully) 24/7 convenience store and you can’t help but grin, already knowing what he’s going to come back with.

As Jungkook opens up the candy wrapper, slipping the clunky piece of candy on your left ring finger, you feel yourself beginning to cry. This is what almost brings tears to your eyes—not losing the band competition—this—because this is what really matters.

“This is very punk,” Jungkook smiles, admiring the blue ring of candy before kissing your lips chastely. You manage to get rid of the tears springing in your eyes by batting your lashes quickly.

“Very Kurt and Courtney,” you add with a small smile. Both of you exchange one more I love you before he leans in again and you find yourself having the best kiss you’ve ever had with your one and only, on the frigid sidewalk in front of a nasty convenience store.

With one last smile against your lips, he says, “Baby they have nothin’ on us.”

Record deals come and go. Real love doesn’t come and go. Once you find it you have to be careful with it; you may never find it again.

[i-say-stupid-things]

reblogging from you to answer your question (i hope this is alright with you)

question for context:

that definitely works!! and while obviously it will vary from person to person, i would much prefer a “i hope you’ll feel better soon” than a “get well soon” or “get better” bc that feels like they’re wishing me a good recovery and/or for me to get healthy again, and while a lot of people might not intend for this, and i also don’t believe anyone says it with malice or bad intend, if you hear it over and over again it feels shitty for multiple possible reasons. also depending on the person, they might still grieve the life they had hoped for that they can no longer sustainably live. so depending on what their situation is, “feel better” is just more accurate and nicer! it also feels more like the other person has an understanding of at least a little what you’re dealing with and not like they expect you to actually be healthy and well again in the near future!

i also took the tags of some other people that i thought were on topic for this (i apologise if anyone isn’t okay with their tags being put on display like this pls lemme know if that’s the case and ill change it)

i also saw someone say “i hope your good days outnumber your bad days” which is also a nice sentiment i like, and would like hearing wayyy more than “get well soon” or a “i hope your pain eases”

also (i know it’s a lot of text but it’s worth it i promise) i especially like what’s been said in the first screenshot of tags because there is nothing wrong with acknowledging the struggle and pain people have to deal with! of course don’t treat them like they’re fragile or in a weird way towards them but especially if it’s someone you’re closer with, someone you see more or less regularly, a friend, family, whatever really! acknowledging their struggles can be really nice! obviously i can only speak for myself on this, but i will quickly feel like i am being annoying or whiny about something that isn’t that big of a deal to the people around me, because i have dealt with this my whole life and was always told i’m overreacting and just being dramatic or sensitive. i think many people went through similar things, so having other people acknowledge our struggles without having to make a big deal about it first can be great and comforting in its own way!

this was a little long, sorry. but i hope this answer helped you and maybe also others who stumble upon this version and might ask themself what a better response would be! also i hope this makes sense, english isn’t my first language. but feel free to ask any more questions! i don’t might answering! (this goes for anyone! but maybe send an ask, i only saw this by coincidence. i turned the notifications on this post off bc they were getting a bit overwhelming hahah)

edit: as a little disclaimer(?) i’ve only been made aware of all the stuff i’m dealing with not being the norm for everyone, and this just actually being fucked shit my body, does comparatively recently and haven’t really come to terms with/made my peace with this. so this might vary completely for someone that has made their peace and come to terms with all that stuff. also the fact that english isn’t my first language might affect some things here

what is it with able bodied people saying “get well soon” after you say that you’re chronically ill?? like? i am not gonna? and i once literally responded with “i’m not gonna, it’s chronic, as in permanent.” and they went like “oh well, hope you get better!” like bro 💀

[tarosin]

the not so great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo and ranboo

this is an extra episode to the great adventures series -

people included: platonic! jack/tubbo/ranboo/tommy

please read what is written in bold

this is an “alternative ending” around 15 years into the future and is heavily inspired by bo burnhams song ‘goodbye’ this doesn’t mean this is actually how the series is going to end im writing it now and including it as part of series as their friendship is already established i can confirm y/n and the group are going to have a happy ending when the series eventually comes to an end this also does not mean the series is anywhere near the end i plan on continuing the series as vlogs come out. i’m sorry HOWEVER i am currently writing how y/n made friends with everyone so you have that to look forward to. i am sorry to the new people who requested to be on the taglist as this is the first thing you’re being tagged in

cw: angst, cursing

it had been around 14 years since ranboo moved to the UK, a year after the day you all met, to be with you tommy and tubbo. you were all thriving; you were living with your best friends, were all some of the most watched creators, you were constantly making new memories with everyone. you even had a wall full of photos of you all from every adventure you had been on with a picture of ranboo poorly edited into the background which made you laugh as you passed the wall every day. almost every evening you would all watch something on the tv, often re watching your favourite tv shows. the past few months had been pretty rough, there were days you didn’t even want to leave the house. you and tommy would fight over the smallest things. for example, a few weeks ago you were both arguing about who was responsible for forgetting something whilst out shopping.

“you were supposed to remind me to get it!”

“i told you to make a fucking list tommy, how is this my fault?”

“because i told you to fucking remind me but you were too focused on playing around!”

“you’re not making any sense tommy!”

“oh fuck off, y/n! i don’t even want to look at you right now!”

“so long tommy i’ll see you when i see you!”

and with that you left to stay with jack until you were ready to go back home, it was around now you lost your love for streaming, however jack encouraged you to stream for a little while so you fans don’t think you’ve left them in the dark. 20 minutes into the stream you felt like you were slowly loosing power even though it hadn’t even been an hour into your stream. A week later you were still with jack, that’s when you got the notification from tubbo.

bo: y/n... we’re sorry we tried our best to make him stay

boo: y/n come home as soon as possible

*tommy has left the chat*

*tommy has blocked tubbo, ranboo, jack and y/n*

bo: he blocked me??

jack: and me

boo: ...yeah

jack offered to drive you back home, which you gladly accepted. the ride was silent, the pair of you still trying to process what just happened, your friend of over 14 years had enough and left you all, until you finally spoke up your voice shaking as you tried not to cry.

“so this is how it ends heh?”

“well at least i’ll save fuel driving taking us all on adventures.”

“youre really joking at a time like this..”

“i was only trying to lighten the mood.. you know you’re being rather selfish not everything is about you. you’ve always been like this.”

“jack, i know you’re upset, i am too, please don’t take this out on me.”

“get out the car.”

“well stop the car then for fuck sake, i’m not getting injured because of you.”

as soon as jack pulled over, you got out and began the walk home, your vision became blurry due to the tears forming as you watched jack drive away. you ended up sitting in a cafe for a while to calm down. none of this felt real you pinched yourself, hoping to find out you were stuck in some nightmare. jack must have returned by the time you made it to the cafe as the community was now spamming questions on twitter asking why jack has now left and unfollowed everyone, followed by your mods telling you to check twitter. your fan base were hurt as their favourite streamers were falling apart and blocking each other. followed by them asking why you’ve not been streaming, you felt like you were going crazy as everyone else was able to stream and enjoyed doing so but you were struggling to stream with no one laughing in the background. you ended up sending a dm to your discord announcements knowing that they’ll share the news.

y/n: so long, goodbye for now. you guys have been extremely supportive over the past 15 years. however there is a lot going on right now (i’ll spare you all the details) i’m going to be taking a break for a while. after all does anybody want to joke when no one’s laughing in the background? i’m sure we’ll meet again, until then my loves!

10 minutes later you decided you should probably go home to the others, after all they’re all you have left.

“i promise to never go outside again.”

as soon as you walked into the house rather than being met with tubbo asking if you were okay, you were met with a notification.

*bo has left the chat*

he stood with his bags near the door

“this is all your fault, i can’t look at you anymore”

“you’re really joking in a time like this...right?”

“you were looking for a reason hide again.”

“trust me buddy i found it.”

ranboo pulled you as close as he could crying into the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his waist as tubbo left the house. it felt like he took the happy memories with him. as soon as ranboo let go, you ran to your room locking the door trying to hide away from the situation, ranboo sat on the other side of the door not wanting to be alone.

“am i going crazy? would i even know? am i right back where i started 14 years ago?”

“y/n let me in.”

you unlocked the door and practically fell into ranboos arms, once you felt strong enough the pair of you sat on your bed, nothing could separate the pair of you right now, you both lost the people you cared about.

“i swear to god all i ever wanted was a little bit of everything all of the time. i’ve finished playing and i’m staying inside.”

“y/n i’m sorry..”

“im sorry too, ranboo, i guess this is the it.”

“at least we have each other.”

“and that fucking photograph wall.”

“that’s a problem for another night..please get some rest.”

it took a while but eventually you fell asleep in his embrace. you may have lost the others but at least one of your best friends stuck around.

taglist (sorry guys)

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @c1loudee

[arwamachine]

Heyyy! I am a fanfic writer and I have a problem, and since you're old and experienced (lol) I require your opinion...

I am currently writing a long fic, but I also have ideas for a future fic. Should I wait till I finish the first one or start the second one while still writing the first one? I'm afraid that if I start the second one I won't finish the first one (and I REALLY want to finish it) but I'm also afraid to lose the ideas and the freshness and impulse of the second one if I don't...

I'm under the impression that you write ALL THE TIME and that you've barely published a fic you're already publishing another (62 chapters? Seriously??? When did you even write that???)

It would be really nice and helpful to know a bit more about how you work. Thank you soooo much for everything!!!

Your Secret Admirer ;)

AAAAA thank you so much for this ask! I love talking about writing and sharing experience from my wizened and advanced age ;)

I am about to say so many words, but my response will boil down to this: do whatever you want! Anyone who tells you there are “rules” to the writing process is lying to you. Do whatever the hell works for you!

Any specific advice I have aside from that is idiosyncratic to my own process. Here’s my deal: I tend more toward planning than pantsing, I don’t start writing until I know the beginning, middle, and end of a story, I write (mostly) chronologically, and I NEVER start posting a fic unless it is 100% written and edited. As such, I personally wouldn’t start a sequel until I’d finished the first fic, but what I WOULD do is OUTLINE.

I call my outlines “murder boards” because they are a nightmare at first. It is a mishmash of random ideas, character information, research, and whole chunks of scenes/dialogues thrown together as they come to my brain. Eventually, an actual structure for a story will develop. This is where I’ll go if I randomly got an awesome idea for some dialogue when I was in the shower, or if I suddenly know what the last paragraph of my story is going to be. I throw it into the murder board with no real sense for grammar or perfection, and when it’s time to write the fic for real, my past self has already done a lot of the work for me. This will get your ideas out and documented while you finish up the first fic!

Other folks have completely different approaches to outlines or don’t outline at all. That’s all fine. For my goldfish brain, if I don’t write something down it is gone within minutes. Poof.

Note: the relationship of the sequel to fic 1 also impacts this decision. If the sequel is going to be a straight continuation of events that take place in fic 1 (i.e., the conflict in fic 1 is not fully resolved by the end of that fic but will be in the sequel), it might be good to at minimum do some heavy outlining so you know what plot points/events/themes/character development you need to cover in fic 1, when, and where you need to leave things off at the end. One downside to completing (and posting) fic 1 first is that as soon as it is out there for others to read, your decisions are locked in and you can’t make edits (at least, not without confusing the fuck out of your readers). All corners you have written yourself into cannot be unwritten once it is posted. BUT, if fic 1 is a complete story, the conflict is fully resolved, and the sequel introduces a completely different story and conflict with these characters, this is less of an issue.

Since you asked - for my own process, I start everything with a murder board and don’t actively start writing until I am confident I can take the thing from beginning to end. I usually have 2 active writing projects going at a time: 1 professional, 1 fanfic. I try to write at least 500 words a day in both. I am usually outlining and editing other works on the side as well. I have no problem bumping something to the back burner if there is a competing demand or I get struck by a LOT of inspiration. For instance, Storm got bumped for at least 3 different projects, but eventually got itself written! Keeping epic outlines is helpful for me when things get bumped—I know I can leave a project for a few months, step back in, and have notes to remind me where me brain was at and where it all was heading.

That is probably WAY more words than you wanted, but like I said—I love talking about this stuff! I hope at least some of this was helpful! I’d also love to read your fic once it’s all done, so let me know when it starts posting!! 😃

[ageofevermore]

Eighteen | T. Holland

Summary → you’re tired of feeling like the world silences you, but after an interview with sebastian and anthony, you start to wonder if maybe it’s your fault.

Warning(s) → mentions of anxiety, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of inequality in gender roles, use of the word slut, fluff if you squint 

Word Count → 1.9k

Note → this is a heavier topic, one that might be personal to some. if you don’t think you can handle the subject matter, please don’t force yourself to. this is relatively watered down, but it doesn’t take a genius to see what’s not being said. the ending features boyfriend!tom consoling the reader, so it does end on a fluffy note, but don’t hold out for those few ending paragraphs. 

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It’s getting hotter in the interviews. A thin layer of sweat sparkles on your skin, and even though the air conditioning has been turned down multiple times, there are too many people in the room to feel any drastic differences. It’s unfortunate for you. Hot flashes are a lovely addition to your anxiety disorder, and press always sets your nerves ablaze. It doesn't matter what project you’re promoting, who you're partnered with, or what you're wearing-- you’re always hot. 

Your cheeks are flushed dangerously when the last interview before lunch is called for yourself, Sebastian, and Anthony. This is your first press tour as an adult. You joined the marvel franchise years ago, when being eighteen felt like the equivalent of turning thirty, and you weren’t blind to the changes of tone. People were harsher to you, more forward. If they weren’t shutting you up, they were hinting at something less then appropriate, usually something sexual. 

The next interview started with a short introduction to the media outlet, and your interviewer. He was middle aged, kind smile, salt and pepper hair. He asked for your names, then he told you his, and one by one he shook your hands. His grip on you was criminal, lasting longer than was comfortable. Sebastian and Anthony we’re oblivious to the few extra seconds of contact between you and him, but it made your skin crawl in a familiar discomfort. 

Your fingers curled into fists, heart high in your throat. The questions started out easy. They were mostly directed towards the boys, like always, but this time you couldn’t find yourself to be annoyed. You had dealt with handsy and sexually charged men before, but he set a fire beneath you. It wasn’t behavior you should tolerate, but being a woman in the industry, inappropriate touches and glances we’re easier ignored then dealt with. When you spoke up you caused drama, made headlines, attracted nasty social media comments that called you a whore. It was easier to just internalize. 

“Y/N.” 

You hummed, looking towards the call of your name. He was smiling sweetly at you again, a predatory glint in his eyes that put you on edge. You shifted your weight closer to Anothony unconsciously giving the hungry man your professional attention and a nod. 

He shuffles through his index cards, but his eyes don’t read the scripted questions his employers have supplied him with. It’s not often male interviews do their own research, usually they’re briefed by a colleague and handed a set of questions and topic point by a higher level employee, but this man doesn’t even read the card before he’s staring you down and opening his mouth. 

“You finally got the Stark suit update,” He says, motioning towards the promo poster that shows off your CGI suit in all of its edited glory. Although the actual costume is breathtaking, the computer effects give it an entirely different, more technologically charged, feel. 

“Yeah,” You nod, a forced smile on your lips as you try to ease the uncomfortable tension from your tone. “She’s finally--” 

He cuts you off before you can give him any explanation for the upgrade. He isn’t the first one to address your new wardrobe, but he’s the first one to leave you antsy and uncomfortable. Sebastian frowns when you’re cut off, but he doesn’t think much of it. He lets the man continue, though a professional sharpness pulls his grin into a scowl. 

“Were you able to wear undergarments underneath it? It’s tight, doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Was there ever a moment where you reflected how much your wardrobe has changed through the years?” He asks, a dirty grin on his lips. 

Sebastian and Anthony are shocked at the blunt, inappropriate construction of his question. The public eye knew nothing of your battles with body image, or health concerns that lead to surgery. Your mind was plagued with doubts and self-criticism, and his invasive, pervy question both infuriated you and broke you apart. 

You stutter to find an answer, heat overwhelming you. Your hand grips onto Anthony’s arm, and you can’t decide whether anger is what burns your skin or anxiety. Are you making a big deal of this? You don’t know. You feel like you have every right to feel violated and uncomfortable, but you’re a young woman in the entertainment industry, isn’t this the kind of ignorant commentary you signed up for? You don’t know anymore. You grew up with people always having an opinion on your appearance, sexualizing you as early as twelve. You’ve carried around pepper spray and  self-defense keychains long before you even had an understanding towards predatory men and sexual assault. You’ve been conditioned by the world and the media to carry on with your day, no matter the broken boundaries or disrespect. You’re tired of remaining silent, feeling like your less than your male counterparts. Women and men should hold no differing values in society, and yet you walk to your apartment with keys between your fingers and Tom doesn’t even lock his front door. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.” You choke out, voice hard and nowhere near the soft and frilly pitch it usually obtains. You’re livid, absolutely pissed to the point of a quivering cupids bow. You’re humiliated, and horrified. Your feelings are everywhere, but you remain as professional as you can. If you yell, try to defend yourself at all, you’ll be painted as a diva in every media outlet for the next week, subliminally inviting backlash and slut-shaming comments into your social media messages. If Sebastian and Anthony come to your defense, they’ll be sung high-praises. 

The double standards men and women are held to, especially in the industry, is infuriating. 

He stumbles out a response, but his time is already up. For the first time today, you’re thankful these interviews are only ten minutes. He leaves the room, shown out by security, and even then he still sends you a wink over his shoulder as if your glimmering eyes meant nothing. 

“Hey,” Sebastian's voice is soft, his hand on the small of your back. You flinch away from his contact, head heavy in memories you’d rather forget. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, voice trembling with tears that you refuse to let fall. You’ve already been humiliated, you don’t need to further paint yourself as some helpless teenage girl. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go find Tom.” 

Anthony and Sebastian nod tightly. They watch as you quiver in your heels, hands clenched into fists at your sides. They’re proud of the way you handled yourself, though still absolutely enraged that any adult would find it appropriate to address you like that, especially in a professional setting. 

You stumble into the dressing rooms, right into your boyfriend's chest. Your mind is racing, but the minute you attach yourself to him, you break down. Shy sobs break Tom’s heart. He holds the back of your head to his chest, other hand on the small of your back and wrapped around your waist as you cry. You’re trying to stay quiet, but the attention is already on you. Chris and Robert are worried, and Zoe’s trying to act like she hasn’t noticed, but they don’t all watch as you try to console yourself with your boyfriend's warmth. 

“What happened?” Tom’s voice is soft, trying to keep this a private moment. He tries to move the both of you back into a corner, but you panic and squeeze around his waist tighter. “Baby,” 

You and Tom have been dating for six months, and although you’ve shared with him stories of your traumatic experiences as a woman living in LA, he’s never seen anything upset you like this. 

“I’m such a slut.” Your words come out so shy and small, you aren’t even sure you can hear yourself. No matter how  many times you tell yourself that your makeup and clothes don’t give men permission to make passes or feel you up, it’s getting harder to believe that your verbal consent is as strong as your clothes. Maybe you are asking for it, and in a wave of nausea, disgusted with yourself, your arms leave Tom’s waist to pull at the bottom of your borrowed dress. 

You’ve been hit on in sweats before. In ball gowns and crop tops. Somebody’s even pushed themselves against you while you wore Tom’s hoodie, but you still convince yourself that it’s your fault. That you we’re asking for it. 

Tom’s jaw sets harshly into place, and he tilts your chin upwards to meet his eye. His brown stare is hard, only adding to your distress. Maybe he agrees. Maybe he’ll blame you for what just happened. He’s probably going to break up with you. Other guys just can’t keep their hands and eyes off of you. He doesn’t want a slut for a girlfriend. 

“What the fuck did you just say, Y/N?” His tone causes you to flinch, words bouncing off of the dressing room walls. Everyone flinches, hearing only his heavy response. You try to divert your attention, but Tom squeezes your jaw, forcing your eyes back on his. “Say it again.” 

“I’m such a slut.” You sniffle, submitting beneath his fiery glare. Tensions are high as you try not to break down again. Apart from Tom, everyone in the room has watched you grow up, never losing that shy and sweet sense of yourself. You’re an exuberant light, a brilliant scene partner, a rising star who has big things in store for the future. You are many things, but a slut, isn’t one of them. 

Tom looks behind you, glaring straight at Anthony and Sebastion who are both stone eyed and still. They’ve not calmed down any since leaving the production room, instead, it seems their anger has only risen. The sight of you so distraught churns their stomachs. 

“Some asshole tried to make a pass.” Sebastion said in short, words angry and delivered as such. 

Tom’s breath hitched, his arms tightening around you and pulling you closer to his chest. His chin digs into your crown, eyes pinches shut as his hot exhale feels heavy. 

“You aren’t a slut, Y/N.” He doesn’t leave any room for argument, but you try anyways. Tom has no patience for it, and so he tilts your head back and plants his lips against yours harshly and eagerly, desperate to show you love and intimacy. “You. Aren’t. A. Slut.”

You nod, ducking your head back down into his chest as you try to believe him-- try to remember that you never asked for hands around your waist, or cupping your boobs. Wolf whistles, or handshakes that turn into forced frontal hugs. You didn’t ask for any of the harassment, no matter the outfits you wore and what they revealed.  

Tom lowers his voice, whispers melting into your hair, “This isn’t your fault, baby. Please believe me. None of this, is your fault. It’s disgusting and inappropriate, and you don’t deserve to deal with any of it.” 

You sniffle. You can’t tell him you believe him, not yet. Not when your heart is so heavy. Maybe one day you’ll believe him, but that’s just not now. 

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@deionswannabegirl @killingbxys @mauvesdior @mischiefandi @dmonchld @waddlenut @tanakaslastbraincell @hollandsxheart @quacksonhehe @tothemoonandbackx3000 @stiles-o-dylan24 @tikapollak @tomthetease @spookybooisa @geminiparkers @teen--marvel @rogersparkerbarnes @sarcasticallywitty15

[system-of-a-feather]

@uszkovo (This is probably toxic and maladaptive thinking but I'm using this to make a point and whatever)

Cause while I agree with that, I'm talking about long term. Firstly, in a SoCiETy with laws, solving the problem is the only long term way to get people to shut up. People will always be mad and whinge if their needs aren't met and other that killing people, the only way to make them shut up is to meet those needs. Yeah its more efficient in the short run to hurt or scare someone silent or to leave, but then they will either come back and be loud about it again, make the environment and vibes shit, or cause issues elsewhere thatd bother me again OR Ill have to forfeit an area I want to be in if I just regularly leave.

If you can't remove them from the area, then the only long term solution is to, well solve it and often solving that is just making needs get met.

Secondly, I have resources I am not using that others are whining about not having. I don't know about you but if we are talking abput easy and efficient, moving my garbage to someone else who wants it rather than the actual trash that will pollute the earth is a lot easier and more efficient then mind games, manipulation and the energy it would take to maintain any form of negative reinforcement to get them to shut up or do what I want.

People respond better and more reliably to positive reinforcement and treatment

Plus if we are looking in the long run, if you establish a positive rapport with people by providing them shit they are much more likely to listen to you in the future and respect your wishes and requests than if you have established a negative rapport to get them to respond

In short, its a long term solution cause I don't have the energy or will to keep biting heads off of people that only mildly annoy me with whinging

This however does not apply to people that greatly piss me off. I don't have the self restraint and impulse control or level of emotional regulation to put aside my personal annoyance and hate to rationally handle people who excessively piss me off and thats just real honest talk.

Writing this on short time so it might not be the best response but its what I have to give atm

EDIT: Reading back on my original post, my simple response now that I know what this was responding to in the first place is simply

Why wouldn't I? My garbage is just sitting there rotting, whats so difficult about moving my garbage 10 ft to where it won't rot and ALSO make someone shut up.

My main issue aint whingey whining people. My main issue is the inefficiency of people. Solving whining people is a silverlining and secondary bonus to just doing what makes fucking sense. Im not motivated inherently to make whining people shut up. Im motivated to not let my trash rot pointlessly when it can be doing something with 0.2% more effort.

-XIV

Riku's clowning over the fact that despite me being the largest NPD/ASPD trait havers in the system, that I am also the most """charity""" motivated - and I put that in big """ """" cause I really hate calling it that and framing it as that - cause everyones like "People with NPD / ASPD are inherently EVIL and inherently abusers yee haw oui oui I'm so special I have empathy"

And I'm gonna try to exercise some cognitive empathy and assume the reason empathy-havers are like that is because (in my experience and opinion who has felt guilt and remorse like, once or twice and never want to again) empathy is a fucking curse and horrible thing to feel and experience. Its such a negative motivator to do things and its very good at making people feel so bad that they feel the need to "do something good" to relieve the tension and misery that having empathy is. So I don't think its to much of a stretch that people with empathy and "eMpAThS" are so used to having their empathy holding them at fucking gun point 24/7 that they don't understand that you don't NEED to feel like shit to see that shits flawed and stupidly broken for literally no reason.

Like I have very very very low empathy - may that be due to autism, trauma, or whatever, I literally could count the times Ive experienced what I think is empathy on one hand (albeit I do have memory issues so do with that what you will) and the reason I try to help people and donate shit is the same reason I literally do all my shit - positive or not - and its simply cause I don't see a good answer to "why not", "why shouldn't I"

Like back when I was younger and a lot more immature and in the depths of trauma, yeah I never would have because my question was "why SHOULD I do anything nice for anyone" and I'd look at people struggling and go "lol you just suck get good at life why are you struggling lol you and your stupid decisions and shut the fuck up your whining is annoying"

But like, you grow the fuck up and you actually see how shit in the world works and that question of "why are you struggling get good mate and shut the fuck up your whining is annoying" gets answered with a "yeah life sucks people are corrupt the system is broken and they've been trapped in a quicksand pit of poverty so the rich can get richer and the poor can get poorer"

Which then, with my chronic "why are you whining do something about it or shut the fuck up" ass to better or worse I go "okay then why are they having to whine, feed them so they can shut the fuck up" cause like, so much fucking food is thrown away from every household of people who buy too much and don't eat it or buy food that they find out they dont like

So like why the fuck aren't we putting 5 minutes out of our day when we clean out our fridges to bring it to the local homeless person / family / impoverished individual who has to beg for survival shit to get them through the day?

Like literally Why Not?

And like I think a lot of other NPD/ASPD havers are sometimes caught up in the fact that being angry, mad, dominant, and "uncaring" is this huge defense mechanism and crap to make them feel secure - at least to some level - and so the thought that being """charitable""" sounds anti-intuitive to their sense of self, but like, whats edgier and more anti-systemic anti-societal normas anti-capitalist and ""punk"" than looking at the stupid shit we're conditioned to and being secure enough in your life, identity, and ability to care for yourself that you can casually help someone struggling

Like empathy havers are like "UWU IF YOU DONT FEEL BAD FOR THEM YOUD NEVER DO ANYTHING NICE" like

No like, its just fucking STUPID to not. It's inefficient. Like I'm not gonna act like I don't care about helping out cause like I'm not a fraud and yeah, giving someone something nice is a small pat on the back - but largely for me its literally just a matter of WHY NOT.

Like WHY. What reason is there to NOT do it? Like completely valid if you don't have the money, spoons, physical ability and all to do it - this is not a matter of "give out more than you can" but a comment on "if you HAVE excess and more than you need and more than you can use why NOT give it out to some who will use it"

It literally just does not make sense on a completely and purely logic / rational basis. If you are going to let your shit sit, rot, and join a trash pile in the middle of the Atlantic, why not give it to someone who could use it - let their day and maybe multiple days be good for a bit, give them less of a need to work hard and sit baking out in the sun and lessen the amount of waste and garbage polluting the earth.

Like I don't fucking need empathy for this to be so frustratingly stupid to see being a "norm" in the world where people just DONT. I don't need someone putting a fucking emotional gun to my head to be motivated to do something that just makes basic fucking common sense and I don't need to be baited with intense feel good dopamine to do it.

Like Imma be fucking Ben Shapiro here and come on guys its fucking FACTS and LOGIC, it doesn't have to be this whole uwu empathy uwu think of the children uwu shit. It can literally be "this is a broken system and it just fucking pisses me off so to be a little less pissed off at how stupid and irrational the system is I do what people SHOULD be doing because I CAN and why the FUCK would I perpetuate the stupid normalized ideas that are FUCKING STUPID."

Ugh. Jesus fucking christ I hate America and Capitalism and just this stupid fucking country honest to god. I don't know if its as bad elsewhere (probably) but jesus christ.

-XIV

[goodnightmemes]

DEXTER SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS (PART ONE)

Lines taken from 2x01-2x06 of the show Dexter. Feel free to change pronouns or edit in any way to better fit your needs. Here is part two.

❛ It's not what I want, for what I want doesn't matter. This is the only way I know how to survive. ❜

❛ I really need... to kill somebody. ❜

❛ You're in control of your urges, not the other way around. ❜

❛ Can we please secure this motherfucking crime scene ? ❜

❛ It's not him that you miss. Because what he had to offer wasn't real. The way he made you feel about yourself...That was real. ❜

❛ I'm just trying to figure out some way to feel alive! ❜

❛ This stuff never gets to you? ❜

❛ I'm more of a crying on the inside kind of guy. ❜

❛ This neighborhood? It's full of crazies. I'd lock my doors. ❜

❛ Tons of options: Everglades, alligators, pig farms, sulfuric acid, wood chipper, incinerator. Hell! Even meat pies. ❜

❛ So this is the man who stands between me and death row. ❜

❛ There is no such thing as the perfect crime. Not in my experience anyway. ❜

❛ If I believed in God, if I believed in sin, this is the place where I'd be sucked straight to hell. If I believed in hell. ❜

❛ I'm not so much doing this to you as I'm doing it for me. ❜

❛ Now, it makes sense. That's where you disappeared to at all hours of the night like Clark fucking Kent. ❜

❛ If the eyes were a window to the soul, then grief is the door. ❜

❛ I've been preparing for this my entire life. ❜

❛ I'm sure someone with a heart could answer that question. ❜

❛ You know those words don't mean anything, right? ❜

❛ Get used to food references because... I like food. ❜

❛ I go to stalk a killer and I end up with a new car. How did that happen? ❜

❛ Nothing stays buried. ❜

❛ Everyone in that room has heard or lived far worse than anything you've ever done. ❜

❛ The worst killers are usually the ones who think their murders were somehow... just. Even deserved. ❜

❛ You just hop from one lie to the next, no shame, no embarrassment, you just don't give a shit. ❜

❛ You're lying to yourself if you think you don't care. ❜

❛ I'm not sure of what I am. I just know there is something dark in me. ❜

❛ Things, people, who never mattered before are suddenly starting to matter. It scares the hell out of me. ❜

❛ You were right. I'm sorry to wake you up, but I had to let you know that you were right. ❜

❛ In our most paranoid moments, we fear that everyone is talking about us. That's become my reality. ❜

❛ It makes me feel like the whole world could explode at any moment. ❜

❛ I don't have a badge. I have a laminate. ❜

❛ You haven't got the first idea who you are, have you? ❜

❛ You don't kill this many people because it's a chore. You do it 'cause you like it. ❜

❛ I've always been good with parents. The key is to simply think of them as aliens from a distant universe. ❜

❛ The last guy I had sex with tried to kill me. ❜

❛ Okay, this is the first time I regret not being a bigger nerd. ❜

❛ He asks you a question, I want you to think of your answer first and then tell him the exact opposite, okay? ❜

❛ You know, I've been thinking about you breaking up with me, and, well, I don't think it's in your best interest. ❜

❛ There are no absolutes. No one's all good or evil. ❜

❛ You make yourself into a monster so you no longer bear responsibility for what you do. "I can't help it. I'm a monster. "Of course I was gonna do that. I'm a monster." It's sad and it's pathetic... And it breaks my heart. ❜

❛ You don't think there are monsters in this world? You don't believe people are evil? I'll show you evil. ❜

❛ For the first time, I feel the future might hold something different for me. It's possible I'm just fooling myself, but I'm willing to take the risk. ❜

❛ I suddenly find myself weighing the benefits of electrocution versus lethal injection. ❜

❛ Sweet mary, mother of fuck, that's good! ❜

❛ I never expected to get better. ❜

❛ You think you're charming, don't you? ❜

❛ And you're not the least bit pissed off that this man got away with murder? ❜

�� Healing is all about focusing your rage on the person that's hurt you. ❜

❛ I'm not the person I'm supposed to be. It's like I'm hollow. ❜

❛ I hide in plain sight, unable to reach out to people close to me. I'm afraid I'll hurt them. Like I've hurt so many others. ❜

❛ If you can't be happy for me, then maybe you shouldn't be here. ❜

❛ You made me into what I am! ❜

❛ If you turn back now, you'll go right back to the way you were...hollow, angry, alone. ❜

❛ I will get you through this. I swear. Just come back to me. Okay? ❜

❛ You ran a background check on my boyfriend? ❜

❛ Imagine that... a life with no more secrets. ❜

❛ Everyone has a moment when they realize their value system is different from their parents'. ❜

❛ Rumor has it you have a knack for attracting serial killers. ❜

❛ Sorry if I was short with you this morning. I'm lost without my morning coffee. ❜

❛ I thought you were different than ____, but you're the same. Actually, you're worse. You made me trust you. ❜

❛ I have been patient and understanding, but there's only so much I can take. ❜

❛ What in the name of fuck are you doing up so early? ❜

❛ When I get pissed, I say stuff I don't mean all the time. "I hate you," "I faked it," "You're hung like a grape." ❜

❛ Stop being a douche bag and go fight for her. She's fucking perfect. ❜

❛ I heard what you said. I just don't take orders from you. ❜

❛ You want to hit me? Go for it. I've been waiting for a chance to take your ass out. ❜

❛ Nobody fucking listens to me! ❜

❛ Last time, you came back covered in blood. ❜

❛ Apparently my new life involves a love triangle. ❜

❛ The voices are back. Excellent. ❜

❛ I've spent years looking the enemy in the face, and I'm telling you ____ is dangerous. ❜

❛ Chin up little sister, these things have a way of working themselves out. ❜

❛ You attacked those people because you wanted to. ❜

❛ All my life, I've done what someone else said I should do, been who he said I should be. I followed his rules, I stuck to his plan. I never stopped to think about what I wanted and what I needed. And now I don't know who I'm supposed to be. ❜

❛ I will kill you. I have to. I just don't need to. It's very empowering. ❜

❛ There was a time I would have done anything to protect ____. I would have even lied. But today I told the truth... even though I knew she'd get hurt. ❜