#so like. the stars have aligned for me to stop using social media as much i guess lmao

[monty-glasses-roxy]

It's kinda funny how much my brain feels like it's growing moss every time I put a game or something down to look at Tumblr. Like that's so specific it's like my body is physically trying to tell me to get offline and touch grass and by grass it means repetitive horse game for the DS.

[sandcobangevent]

💥 SHERLOCK & CO FLASHBANG EVENT!!!1!1 I had such a blast being a part of this and working with my epic teammate @whrys (who’s fic you should totally read btw as it goes with this) (john can never catch a break bless)

by @fleurdelait and @whrys

John Watson thinks himself a very good man. He always takes care of people when he can, but if the cause of that is because he genuinely is a good person, or because he was a doctor in war, he would rather not speculate on. He likes to make himself useful in every situation and dislikes having nothing to do, especially when his best friend and coworker, the reputable Sherlock Holmes, is completely ignoring all the cases they could take on. But even though he spends a lot of his time with Sherlock, on account of them living together, he can get tired of him. So, John is now not in the flat, or with Sherlock on a case. He is on a bus, heading to a football stadium.  

He had finally had some time to himself, because there were no new cases and Mariana, his and Sherlocks secretary, even though she did so much more than that, was done with all their paperwork. It seemed the stars had aligned for John this day, because there was also a football game with his favorite team nearby, or at least in a reasonable bus length. He had bought the tickets a week earlier, but usually when he planned ahead, there would be an unforeseen case that sherlock wanted to take, and John had to cancel whatever plans he had. But just this once he took a chance, because the game was with his favorite team, and it was in his city. He could always get a refund. But no, when he woke up, Sherlock did not bust down his door with a new case, and Mariana had not left a note with something that needed to be done. He was free all morning and thus decided to get out of the house before something did happen.  

And now he was on the bus. Sitting by the window and looking at everything going past. He had not forgotten his team scarf, which he made sure to put in his bag before going to bed last night. When he wasn’t looking out the windows, he was fiddling with his pheon. Scrolling various social media, looking at what’s happening in his discord channel. “Jonk” was apparently making it big again. While going through his latest episodes comments, he saw a message pop up from Sherlock. Damn it. And he was almost at the arena too. He expected the usual spam of messages when he took more than a minute to respond. “Watson” “This is important” It usually wasn’t. “Mariana wants me to tell you-” “Watson” “John” “Hello”. Lately Sherlock has been calling John more by his first name. He thought this was because Sherlock was trying to be more familiar with him, to make him focus or listen to what he was saying. But he didn’t mind. He kind of liked it. But there were no more messages. Just the one. Maybe that means it wasn’t that important? Actually not important, this time. John chose to ignore it. But it was weird. Not Sherlocks normal behavior, if he had any. It was bothering John, and he looked out the window once again as the bus drove over a bridge. And as the ride continued, so did the uneasy feeling in his chest. The bus stopped and John eyes rested on a sign that said ‘Stanford's’. He remembered his friend that introduced them and the entire day that they met on. As the bus started moving again, so did his thoughts. With a sigh, finally, he gave in. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text. He knew if he read this, and it was something trivial that Sherlock tricked him back to the apartment with that made him miss yet another game, he would absolutely regret it. He had come back to the apartment every time Sherlock called, and if he did so now as well, Sherlock would not learn that he wouldn’t come every time he was called. But alas, he will. It’s Sherlock after all.  

But instead of seeing a text about a very important case or just a beckon for him to come home with no explanation, he saw “John, this is Mariana, are you with Sherlock? He’s not home, but all his stuff is here. Even his headphones” 

John froze. It wasn’t from Marianas number; it was definitely Sherlocks. Probably because he left his phone at home. Honestly, this shouldn’t be that worrying, Sherlock can sometimes disappear for a day, he could have found a very interesting animal or just calming down from interacting with people for a while. But not bringing headphones is out of character.  John: Mariana, why are you messaging from Sherlocks phone? Sherlock: I knew you’d answer if it was him. If I sent it from mine, you would ignore it because you thought it was about paperwork or having to talk with clients. John: That’s fair.  John: Have you seen anything Sherlock may have left behind? Sherlock: Not immediately, but he wasn’t kidnapped if that’s what you’re thinking. His shoes are gone. Kidnappers don’t put on their victims’ shoes.  John: Yeah, that makes sense. But I’ll come home right now anyway.  

He had chosen what he cared about. Sherlock.  

After getting home, and trying to get the right bus back, John bursts through the door, looking around for Mariana or Sherlock. “Mariana? Are you here?” “In here John! Sherlock is here too.” John follows her voice to the kitchen, where she and Sherlock are sitting at the table. She seems to be patching him up as he has wounds all over.  “Oh my god Sherlock, who did this to you?”  “It’s fine Watson, Ms. Hudson is a qualified enough doctor to prescribe a few band-aids.” The sarcasm was practically dripping from Sherlocks voice. And he was still using the wrong name for Mariana.  “Yes John, he’s going to be fine. I just need to get him to sit still long enough to put on this elastic bandage- Sherlock stop picking at it.” “You’re putting it on wrong, the compression doesn’t work that way.” “Here, Mariana, I’ll do it.” John very kindly shushed Mariana out of her chair and took Sherlocks arm in his hands. She took the hint and went to get something from her room.  John undid the bandage and started over. Not because he wanted to hold Sherlocks hand more, but because it was easier that way. Obviously.  “Where would I be without my doctor.” Sherlock broke the silence. John looked up to look at his detective.  “You would be wherever you were that made you get like this. Oh, speaking of, where were you that could make you get like this?” “Way to ruin the moment, Watson. I was simply out walking, and someone attacked me. Judging by the amount of preparation they had for me, I presume they already knew who I am, and hold some sort of grudge. I might’ve caught one of their friends in a case, or they just don’t like me, which I have been told is not unusual.” “I like you.” John realized after uttering it what exactly he had said. He chose to continue with his thoughts. “You mean a lot to me. You have no idea how worried I was when Mariana said you had gone.” “John.” Sherlock’s tone caught John’s attention, and he looked up. The eye contact felt like it lasted for an eternity. He finished wrapping Sherlocks arm with the bandage and took his hand.  “You should know I skipped yet another football game for this.” “I know. You still have the scarf on you.” As he mentioned the team scarf that was still around John’s neck, he grabbed it and pulled it closer, making their foreheads touch.  John didn’t need to be a good person to know that Sherlock would always be here, at 221B Baker Street.  John was happy. 

[gunilslaugh]

Stars Aligned

Oh Seungmin

Summary: You run into a past friend of your brother at a place you never expected to see him. Working behind the counter at a convenience store.

WC:3.4k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

At the age of eight you met Oh Seungmin, age ten, for the first time. Your brother introduced him as his friend then proceeded to tell you to leave them alone while they hung out. You didn’t think much of him. You only saw him for maybe forty-five seconds anyway before the two ran off into your brother's room. However, his appearance at your house became quite regular after that. He practically became your second brother. 

At age ten you discovered that Seungmin came from a rich family.

“Wait! You’re Rich?! Why do you always hang out at our shack then,” you exasperated.

“Y/n our house isn’t a shack!” Your brother yelled.

“I’m sure compared to his house it’s a shack,” you argued. 

“Your house isn’t a shack. I like it a lot better than my house actually, that's why I’m here all the time,” Seungmin responded as he reached out a hand to ruffle your hair. 

“Stop! You’re messing up my hair,” you pouted, swatting his hand away. “My birthday is in a few months though and I like stuffed animals,” you informed him, totally not hinting at anything.

“Really? What’s your favorite animal?” Seungmin asked you. You happily told him what your favorite animal was.

At age eleven Seungmin gifted you a stuffed animal of your favorite animal for your birthday. 

“You’re better than my brother. I like you more,” you told him, cradling the stuffed animal to your chest. Seungmin hugged you for the first time after you said that. You don’t know why he did, but you hugged him back anyway.

“Thank you,” he said. Seungmin almost sounded sad when he said those two words. It made you confused. What could he be sad about?

At age fourteen you found out what Seungmin could be sad about. He showed up at your house when your brother was out at an appointment. 

“You know my brother’s not here right now?” You said confused. Your brother definitely told Seungmin about his appointment.

“I know, I just couldn’t stand being in my house any longer,” he revealed. That’s when you discovered how stressful Seungmin’s home life is. The constant hounding he received from his father about how he should be better. Have better grades, better social skills, be more mature, not play around so much, stop hanging out with his ‘no good’ friends. Nothing he did was enough. He needed to be better, fit his father’s vision of him. It was the first time you saw him cry. The first time you hugged him while he broke down in your arms. The moment you decided you would punch Seungmin’s father if you ever saw him, mentally at least.

At age fifteen was the last time you saw Seungmin. His father was sending him off to some private boarding school to “Make him a better man”. It was the second time you saw him cry and the second time he cried in your arms. Although this time your brother’s arms were around him too and you all were crying.

“Here,” you said, holding out a seashell keychain. 

“What’s this?” Seungmin asked, taking the keychain from you.

“Remember me bye, so you don’t forget me,” you tell him, tears threatening to sting your eyes again.

“Trust me I could never forget you y/n,” he told you. That was it. That was the last time you spoke to Seungmin.

It’s been six years since you last saw Seungmin. Occasionally you would try to look for him on social media only to result in no avail. It was weird at first, getting used to Seungmin being gone, but with time it almost seemed like he was never there at all. Almost like your time with Seungmin was a different reality or maybe he was some imaginary friend you and brother came up with. People come and people go. Seungmin came into your life at age eight and left at age fifteen, but he stays in your memories.

Now at age twenty-one you’re a college student, living alone in a studio apartment. A studio apartment with disrespectfully loud neighbors. It was one in the morning and you were busy trying to complete an assignment, but the sound of your neighbors music blasting through the walls made it hard to concentrate. It didn’t matter how many complaints you filed, your neighbors never got any quieter. Having enough of the music you packed your bag and decided to walk the few blocks to the nearby convenience store for a more suitable work environment. 

The bell rang as you opened the door signaling your arrival into the store.

“Wel-... y/n?” A voice you hadn't heard in a long time called you. You immediately turn your head towards the counter. 

At age twenty-one you reunited with Seungmin again. He was standing behind the counter as a worker in a convenience store.

“Seungmin?” You called him approaching the counter. 

“It’s been a long time. You’re not the little girl I once knew,” he points, causing you to laugh.

“Little girl? We were both teenagers the last time we saw each other,” you reminded him. 

“I know, but you definitely grow up a lot from the ages of fifteen to twenty-one,” he adds.

“True, I feel so old now,” you stated. Now you were the one who made Seungmin laugh.

“If you’re old what am I?” He jokes.

“Ancient,” you replied cheekily. Seungmin rolls his eyes at you.

“So what brings you here late at night?” He asks you.

“Escaping from loud neighbors. I have an assignment I need to finish, but I couldn’t focus,” you explained.

“Then don’t let me keep you,” he says, gesturing over to the sitting area.

“In a sec,” you say. “I haven’t asked what you’re doing here yet,” you tell him.

“I think it’s pretty clear that I work here,” Seungmin stated.

“Exactly! Why are you working here? Shouldn’t you be the ceo of some company building Mr. Rich?” You questioned him.

“Ex-rich. I told my dad that I didn’t want the life he visioned for me. I wanted to live my own life. Pursue my passion. He cut me off,” Seungmin informed you, but doesn’t seem upset about it.

“Good for you. I’m sure that was scary to face your dad like that. I’m proud of you,” you wholeheartedly tell him. 

“Thank you,” those two words sounded the exact same way they did when you were eleven. Now you realize he didn’t say them with a sad tone, it was sincerity he said them with. 

“What’s your passion?” You followed up.

“Art, painting,” he replied.

“Art!? You never told me you could paint!” you exclaimed, offended.   

“I never thought I could actually do anything with it. My father always said that it was dumb and my work would never make it anyway,” Seungmin elucidated. 

“I really do want to punch that guy,” you muttered. Seungmin stifled his laugh.

“Go do your assignment now, it’s already late,” he ordered you.

“Yes sir,” you promptly said, moving over to a table and pulling your laptop from your bag. You began to diligently work on your assignment. It was much easier to focus without annoying rumbling music pouring through thin walls. You submitted your assignment and put away your laptop. Standing up to stretch. 

“All done?” Seungmin questioned.

“Yep,” you answered, popping the p at the end. 

“My shift ends in ten minutes. I’ll take you home if you're willing to wait,” he spoke. You were more than willing to wait, but you didn’t want to bother him. 

“It’s ok I only live a few blocks from here,” you excused. 

“Nonsense it’s late. I’d feel much better taking you back then risk anything with you walking alone,” he stated.

“Fine, I wait,” your tone may have sounded annoyed, but the way you happily plopped back down into your chair showed how fake your annoyance was. 

At the end of his shift Seungmin clocked out and walked you both out to his car. He opened the door for you before walking around to the driver side and getting in himself. After you put on your seatbelt your eyes caught sight of something. It was the seashell keychain you gave Seungmin all those years ago. It hung from the ignition as he inserted his car key to start the car. 

“You still have it?” You reached over to lift the keychain, taking a better look at it. 

“I told you that I’d never forget you,” was his answer before pulling out of the parking space. You gave him the short directions back to your apartment, arriving in no time. 

“Stop the store anytime your neighbors are too loud,” Seungmin tells you.

“I will,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Thanks, goodnight,” you wished him, before you opened the door, stepping out of his car.

“Goodnight,” he wished you back. Seungmin waited until you entered your building before he drove off. Seeing Seungmin again almost felt like a dream. It was like yours and Seungmin’s stars had aligned and brought you back together.

Going to the convenience store became your new routine. Escaping your noisy neighbors was nice, but seeing Seungmin was the best part. In fact your late night trip to the store was your favorite time of day. Sometimes you didn’t even have much work or studying to do, you just wanted to see Seungmin. 

Today was Seungmin’s off day, which meant you were in your apartment with headphones in to attempt and blocked out your neighbor. You were reviewing your notes when your phone screen lit up. It was a text from Seungmin. “I know it’s late but I’m outside your apartment” it read. A smile finds its way onto your face as you type your reply. “Be out in a sec”. You threw on a hoodie and slipped on your shoes. 

Seungmin reached over and opened the door on your side of the car when he saw you approaching. You hopped in his car, shutting the door behind you. 

“What do I owe this pleasure?” you say, turning to face Seungmin.

“I just wanted to see you,” he admits. There’s what you think is a faint blush on his cheeks, but the darkness of the night makes it hard to tell. “Put on your seatbelt. I wanna take you somewhere,” he lets you know. You buckle up and Seungmin starts the car. The drive isn’t too long. Seungmin pulls over on the side of a road and begins to get out of the car. You follow his actions.

“Where are we going?” you quiz. Seungmin walks over to your side and takes your hand in his, guiding you to walk with him.

“You’ll see,” is all he says. Seungmin took to the top of a hill that showed the beautiful nightlife of the city. 

“It’s so pretty,” you proclaimed. Admiring the sparkling view of the lights that twinkle like the stars in the sky. 

“I knew you would like it,” Sungmin said, hand gently squeezing yours tighter. The two of you sat down on the grass, out looking the city. 

“I still have the stuffed animal you gave me for my eleventh birthday,” you told Seungmin. 

“Really?” He asked, turning to face you.

“Yeah it’s sitting on my bed back at my apartment,” you leaned back on your arms, turning your head to look at Seungmin. 

“You took it with you? Didn’t leave it back at home?” he pondered.

“How could I leave it at home? It’s my favorite stuffed animal. It brings me comfort,” you responded. “Why did you hug me that day?” your voice became softer.

“What do you mean?” Seungmin cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“The day you gave me the stuffed animal. You hugged me that day for the first time. I never knew why,” you elaborated. Seungmin nodded his head as he remembered the memory.

“You said I was better than your brother and that you liked me more,” he answered.

“I remember that, but why did me saying that make you hug me?” You stopped leaning on your arms and sat up straight, turning your body to fully face Seungmin.

“It was the first time I heard that I was better. You know my dad always told me that I needed to be better. No one would want to work with me if I wasn’t better. That I wasn’t enough, but you said that I was better. You liked me more than your brother. For the first time I felt like I was enough that I didn’t have to be better. It made me feel something I never really felt before, so I hugged you,” he revealed to you, scooting closer so that your knees were now touching.

“That’s actually really sad,” your heart ached.

“No, I was really happy that day,” Seungmin grabbed both of your hands. “Your house was a safe haven for me. You’re a safe haven for me. I never feel like I have to be anything when I’m with you. That just being myself is enough. That day you gave me the keychain, so that I wouldn’t forget you made me realize how you really didn’t have any clue about how much you mean to me. How could you ever think that I could forget you when you’re the first person who made me feel like I was enough. I didn’t need to be my dad’s version of me. You’re the reason I didn’t give up on painting,” Seungmin disclosed. You didn’t even realize that tears were falling from your eyes until Seungmin moved a hand up to wipe them away. 

“I never knew any of that. I just knew the first time you cried in my arms all those years ago I wanted to punch your dad. I decided that if I ever met him I was gonna swing,” you chuckled lightly trying to lift the mood a bit. You succeeded because Seungmin chuckled too. 

“See,” Seungmin cupped your face with his hands, leaning closer to you. “You’re all I ever could need,” he declared. Your faces were close and your eyes flickered between each other’s eyes and lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered softly, his eyes locking with yours once more.

“Yes,” your voice also comes out as a whisper. Then the gap between you two was closed.

The kiss was never addressed. Neither was whatever feeling you and Seungmin shared for one another. They didn’t feel like they needed to be though. Your routine with Seungmin never changed. You would go to the convenience store late at night during his shift. Continuing to do this even after your noisy, loud, neighbors moved out. On his days off you would spend the night together at what you called your spot. This went on for months, the seasons changed, you celebrated your birthdays together. Until one night you walked into the convenience store and Seungmin wasn’t behind the counter.

“You’re y/n right?” The worker behind the counter asked you.

“Yes, I am,” you answered.

“Here,” they slid you an envelope with your name written across it. “Seungmin told me to give this to you. He said you would understand,” they continued. You thanked the worker grabbing the envelope. You walked over to a table and sat down. Staring at your name on the envelope before opening it. You reach into the envelope and pull out a painted picture. It was of your spot. Seungmin was right, you did understand. You checked the inside of the envelope for anything else, seeing there was a piece of paper. You pulled it out, it was a letter.

Dear y/n,

Sorry I didn’t think that I could handle saying goodbye to you in person. I first met you at the age of ten. Your brother quickly introduced me as his friend then told you to not bother us. At age twelve you found out that I came from a rich family and didn’t understand why I liked your house better than mine. How could I tell that your house actually felt like a safe haven where mine felt like a battlefield. At age thirteen I bought you a stuffed animal of your favorite animal for your birthday. You told me that I was better than your brother and that you liked me more. For the first time I felt like I was enough. I didn’t need to be better. Just being Seungmin was enough for you to want me. I hugged you for the first time then because it was the only way I knew how to express what I was feeling.  At age sixteen I told you how stressful my life was and you became my safe haven. I cried in your arms, it was the first time you hugged me and the moment you decided you would punch my dad. I didn’t know that at the time, but knowing it now makes the moment all the more special. At age seventeen I was forced to say goodbye to you. It was the most painful moment of my life, having to walk away from my safe haven, not knowing if I would ever get to see you again. You gave me a seashell keychain as a remember me bye, but how could I ever forget you? I may have been friends with your brother, but you were the most important person in my life. I know I never really showed it, I didn’t know how, still don’t know how actually. At age twenty-three our stars aligned again. You walked through the door of the convenience store I worked at. The moment felt like a dream, but it was real. My safe haven was back. Then I spent the next year living a fairytale life with you. At age twenty-four I’m leaving you again. This time it hurts more than the first. It’s not by force this time it’s my own choice. I’m gonna leave my fairytale life and come back to reality. I’m gonna pursue my passion of being an artist, but I can’t do that here which is why I’m leaving. I’ll dedicate a whole exhibition just for you one day. Let’s meet again when our stars are aligned once more.

Seungmin

Your tears hit the paper and your hand shakily ran over his words. 

At the age of twenty-two Seungmin left your life again. It hurt even more the second time around. You couldn’t hate him though, not in the slightest. He was pursuing his passion. You couldn’t be more proud of him for living his own life. You just wish you were there beside him while he did it. Though like he said you’ll meet again, you just have to wait for that moment to come for your stars to realign again.

At age twenty-six you visit an art exhibition for the artist Oh Seungmin. “My Reason For Painting” that’s what the exhibition is called. 

The first painting is of a young girl who looks around the age of eight. Muse is the title.The girl looks strikingly similar to how you looked at that age. 

The second painting is of a house. Not A Shack being the title. It looks very similar to your childhood home. Making you laugh as you recalled yourself saying your house must’ve been a shack compared to whatever house Seungmin grew up in.

The third painting is of a stuffed animal. Like You More reads the title. Coincidentally it looks just like your favorite stuffed animal.

The fourth painting is of a boy crying in a girl's arms. My Safe Haven is the title. It looks all too much like the day you saw Seungmin cry for the first time, the first time you hugged him.

The fifth painting is a seashell keychain. Oddly enough it looks just like the one you gave Seungmin all those years ago.

The sixth painting is of a young woman typing away on her laptop at what looks like a convenience store. Reunited With My Muse the title reads. You could have sworn you had been in that exact convenience store and the woman was wearing a hoodie you had at the time. 

The seventh and final painting is a woman sitting on a hill looking at a night view of a city. My Fairytale is the title for this one. This woman also shares features with you and once again looks like she took something from your wardrobe.

“He painted my bad side,” you tsked from where you admired the painting.

“You don’t have a bad side,” A voice states from behind you. It’s that voice again. The voice you could never forget.

At age twenty-six your stars aligned with Oh Seungmin once again.

[tayfabe75]

Hello! I've been thinking about this for a while and your theory does make sense in some ways, of course, but there are some details stopping me from fully believing it. For example, if we go by your theory, why do you think Taylor called their relationship a manic episode? Not the best ground for reviving something in the future. Most people now refer to this by indicating that they never had real love and true feelings. And “it’s the worst men that I write best”. She literally called him the worst. So it's hard for me to believe in their reunion when she despises him so openly now

Hi anon! First and foremost, it's absolutely fine if you don't believe anything I say! Truly, I am not offended. Besides, I'm not really in the business of trying to "convince" anyone, anyway. But I am more than happy to share my takes! Apologies in advance, because this is going to be a bit repetitious (since I already gave a very similar answer on a different ask), but I don't mind going over my thoughts again!

That said, I'm not personally fazed by the "manic phase" wording because I don't think TTPD is reflective of recent events. No, not even last May! (Though, yes, it is absolutely meant to sound that way)

For me, what sticks out like sore thumb are the drug references. I can't help but think of Matty's recent admission that he's been sober for going on five years. Also, and I am going to go ahead and give Taylor the benefit of the doubt here (because to love Matty is to be protective of him, even as a fan!), I do not believe she would release songs with drug references without Matty's blessing.

"This period of the author's life is now over, the chapter closed and boarded up."

I think she has been waiting to write about this specific time because she's chronicling her life through her music, and this album is reflective of a missing time period. I suspect the content of TTPD slots very nicely into the time period either before or following 1989:

I believe the visual similarity here is on purpose, and just another storytelling device used by Taylor. I'm very excited to see where, in the setlist, TTPD pops up. I have this whole theory that Eras is telling a cohesive story, and that the placement of each album within the setlist is strategic. TTPD feels like it should be between 1989 and Midnights (though I will admit it is more likely to come at the end)

Here's a good example of why I feel this way:

TTPD: "Some stars never align" Midnights: "All the stars aligned"

Lastly, I think Taylor is much more clever than she gets credit for. On the surface, that might sound ridiculous, because well, of course she's clever! But anon, I dare you to go on just about any social media platform and look at what people are saying about her. Oh, believe me, she knew damned well people would take the word "manic" and run with it. I've seen the word "manic" more in the past Fortnight than I had all my life leading up to TTPD! Speculating on the mental health of strangers is all the rage right now.

(That reminds me - keep an eye out for Brad Troemel's Healing Report! Coming soon…)

So again, it is my personal belief that this album is much too vulnerable to represent a pain as fresh as May. Taylor would not provide the ammo to shoot her (or Matty) with. Aside from endless "manic" allegations, another popular take I see around is that Taylor "is stuck in the age she was when she got famous" (🙄) but maybe, just maybe… Taylor sounds this way because she hasn't actually written about her current life in a while. I suspect that's what she meant by "and now the story isn't mine anymore… it's all yours". Meaning that, whatever comes next, it's not going to be a game of matching song lyrics to paparazzi photos.

I don't agree that Taylor "literally" did or said anything based on the companion poem. It reads very tongue-in-cheek - like she knows exactly how it's going to be misinterpreted. What I'd suggest doing is reading between the lines. Don't take it at face value. This is a woman who loves wordplay and double (or triple!) meanings. This is a trial, and she's pleading insanity. Watch Fortnight again. Do you think that she thinks she's insane?

Before you answer, I'll leave you with this quote:

"If you make the joke first and you make the joke better, then it's kind of like, it's not as funny when other people call you a name."

Lastly, Anon, if you listened to TTPD and your overall takeaway was that Taylor now despises Matty, then I'm genuinely shocked you would even want a reunion between them! There's some part of you that must not fully believe that, or else you wouldn't have found your way here. Either way, thanks for the ask! 🤍

[antis-hell]

Answering every question in an ask game because I'm bored and no one can stop me<3

(This game is from a deactivated blog, but you can still find the og post here!)

🦒 Do you have an inner world? If so how big is it?

Yep! It's fuckin massive tbh;-; several islands that we can't really access cus they're too far apart kind of big

🐈‍⬛ If you have an inner world did an alter consciously create it? And is anyone able to change it at will?

Nope;-; the majority of it was forcefully made by our abusers to distress us but some parts are slowly healing and changing from how it was originally, afaik the only alt that can change anything at will is Felix/Ion and that's only in selective parts.

🦝 Who is the most responsible person in your system?

Darky. All the fuckin way💀

🦋 Who fronts the most?

Me lol, I'm always at least in vague co con cus im the host

🦢 Do you mostly communicate externally or internally?

Bit of both tbh! We have chats in sp and discord that we use if amnesia walls are high, but mostly we can talk with people that are nearby when fronting

🦮 Do you have any animal alters?

Yep, we got a bunch, but our more frequent fronters are Mopha, a blue moth. Vulpix a kitsune looking cat thing and Fredbear a small yellow ish bear that kinda just chills with Darky

🦇 Do you have any parts/fragments that aren't fully alters/headmates?

Yep! Polyfrag goes brrrrrr, so we have a bunch of alts we consider parts rather than headmates

🦄 Do you have supernatural beings in your system?

Yep😭 again religious trauma is a bit silly, so we have most major Catholic demons, jesus, a few angels, God, celestial besings from the stars, and so much more;-;

🐖 If you were to be in a relationship would all of your headmates/alters date that person?

Nope! We have alts that are in strictly monogamous relationships in headspace so they wouldn't date the person the body is dating, same also goes for littles/middles and animal alters due to the fact they aren't mentally able to consent to a relationship (+ also any aroace alters that wouldn't want to date them)

🐭 Do most of your alters/headmates have the same or similar style/aesthetic?

Not in the slightest💀 we have fairly different styles which makes clothes shopping absolute hell

🪱 Do your alters/headmates have different sexualities? Do any contradict?

Yep! Most of us are gay men/masc aligned, but we do have a handful of lesbians and aroace ppl chilling up in this head

🐇 Do you know what your head count is?

700 at our last guess, but really, it could be anything😭

🦥 What is something that instantly makes someone switch in?

The taste of blood instantly makes Darky switch in. This is a but awkward when eating steak/meat, but he's pretty good at masking as me, so it's okay in the end

🐴 Do you have child alters/syskids?

Yep! We have a bunch:] Some are allowed on here, but we mostly keep them off social media due to safety concerns

🐆 If you have syskids/child alters do you have more adults/teens or children in your system?

Probably adults tbh😭 we have a LOT of littles, but if we're counting everyone that's not a little/middle as an adult, we dwarf them by a mile

🦔 Does anyone in your system age regress/dream?

Yep! I age regress in stressful episodes afaik only a few others do but I won't name them just for their privacy

🐶 Who has the best memory in your system?

Either Darky or Felix probably- they're the top gatekeepers, so they have access to everything pretty much

🦊 Do any of your alters have their own blogs just for them?

Darky does! He hasn't posted much on it yet but he's been mumbling about doing book reviews or some shit (like a fuchin old person would do/lh) I half told him to make one cus he needs more friends so go check it out if ya want! @upin-the-dark

Anyway, I had fun doing this:D If you want me to do any specific ask games/want me to do your ask game, send me the link, and I'll check it out!!/gen/nf

-anti💚🗡

[the-good-projxct]

Feb 20th, 2024

10.31 pm Listening to Stars by Kanye West off the Vultures album. I’m sitting in the living room in Karen. I was chillin’ here with SweSwe, Her sister Karimi and Moka was Mwiti. Baby Jason was running around, Mercy was tryna keep up with him and Wanja was in the kitchen. Kendi was already upstairs. It is such a house full of women and a baby. I honestly want to have a baby in this setting. With many hands and women of many ages to spend time and raise my baby. Everyone already went up to bed but I decided to write from down here today because vibes. I had a pretty interesting day. I barely slept last night because I did the social media stuff for the Gøod projxct last night. Once I am done with the socials and website stuff, I can leave it alone forever and focus on just adjusting, processing and being. I created another insta account for my real friends and for life going forward. The King Kxndi one is my journey from sobriety to leaving the Island. It is also now sort of a business account focused on the Gøod projxct. My new account is where anyone I want going forward in my life will be. If you didn’t make the cut, well your loss. Lol nah, no hard feelings but it felt like so many people were just spectators in my life and I don’t align with those people anymore so why should they have a view and or opinion on my world. If you made the cut though, I LUH you. Some more than others but if you made the cut, some of our values are in similar directions and or you showed me magik. Puurr. Magik being Gøodness. I wanna be an asshole and say fuck erryone else because low key, fuck erryone else, some more than others. But I have grown and understood so much through the dynamics of that goofy little sandbar that all I have is gratitude. I woke up a lot through the night because my period was heavy and because I had wild period dreams. I got up around 10 am, stayed in bed till about noon. Came down, chilled with folx. Then I went for a walk around the neighborhood. There is a heat wave so it was a bit intense. I enjoyed the greenery. I walked down the lane to our old house and this period really feels like Sankofa. I am back in my past as an adult and I will take the lessons, the Gøod, the healing and eventually I will leave Karen too. Similar to what I did with PEI. I Sankofa there and I am doing it here too, then onwards and upwards. But first, a little bit of backwards. Walking the lane I used to walk and daydream on as a child was a mix of joy and heartbreak. No regrets, so much emotion, and a lot of pride as to who I have become. I came back home to try and read for a bit but I ended up falling asleep because of the heat and my chaotic night last night. I woke up, ate supper, some dessert then read for awhile and chilled with the older women before they went to bed. I can see people staring at me, some say it outright. I look like my mom. I love that compliment. My mom is a baddddiiie, she is foiiiinnnee. So please, gasp at how much I am a copy of her. Plis Plis Plis. Thanks. I have a tan already, which is amazing. AmirahSun can stop calling me a light skin nigga now. I watched the kites fly around for a bit today, there are so many around here and I love it. Theres a gecko going across the wall right now. Nature is peakin’ in Kenya. The older women told me earlier today that butterflies, malabutia, usher in the new year. I’m gonna ask more about that. Life is Gøod. Ase. Ase.

[kodyboye]

Reading book reviews isn't good for your mental health: An Author's Perspective

Hi,

My name's Kody, and, you guessed it: I'm an author. Generally speaking, I write young and new-adult fiction where young(er) people have to face tremendous odds (be they aliens, vampires, zombies, world-rending scenarios or even personal trials they face from within. It's a fun hobby I've been able to make into a somewhat-career (wherein I get paid for my work.) However, with all products, there comes the...

Customer reviews.

Now... I've heard it stated that reading book reviews is actually good for your development as an author. The thinking in some circles is that, if you can pick out common threads of complaints from readers, you might be able to improve upon your work.

But... here's the thing:

While there are well-intentioned reviews that point out various faults in books, there are also reviews that either:

Don't get your book

or

Are just straight-out mean.

For this post, I want to speak generally, and want to reduce including my own experiences on the matter. If they happen to bleed into the post, I'm intending for them to be used as examples of could bes rather than confirmations of what happens on a general basis.

From my experience of reading book reviews, I've come to find that there are a few types of readers. They usually fall into three categories:

Those that are easily pleased.

Those that are hard to please.

Those who are impossible to please.

Reviewers who are easily pleased tend to forgive certain things in works (spelling mistakes, grammar issues, etc.) Reviewers that are hard (or hard[er]) to please expect certain standards that they've come to anticipate (proper editing, storytelling, formatting.) Then there are reviewers that are impossible to please because they are just that: impossible to please.

Now, you might be wondering, Why include the last one? Isn't that a personal judgment?

Yes and no.

There is a common occurrence I've seen with some reviewers that leads me to believe that they just simply cannot be pleased. When I come across a review I feel falls into this bracket, I tend to look at their list of written reviews and see what they are reading, or if they like anything at all. And let me tell you: I have found readers who simply do. not. like. anything. they. read. Be it a perceived problem with a character, a scenario, or even a plot point, they will go out of their way to make their intent known. Most reviews like this will have maybe one 3-star out of the deluge of 2 and 1-star reviews (and even then, the 3-star review is not shining or middle-of-the-road.)

And here is where reviews can be damaging.

As writers, we grow close to our works. We start stories, nurture characters, see plots to fruition, and create worlds we hope others will enjoy. Releasing them into the wild is akin to walking over landmines that could or could not go off.

Which is where the danger of reading your own reviews comes in.

Looking at the top reviews of certain Big 5 (or is it 4 or 3 now?) publishers, you can generally sense that there will be a divide between readers and their opinions over a piece of work. Some will love it, others will like it, a few will hate it. But let me tell you: when you get a certain type of reader who really, truly not just hates, but abhors a book (for whatever reason,) they will spare no mercy in telling the reader what they think of it.

Even if that means attacking the author.

Now... personal attacks can come as a result of a variety of things—from an author/reader interaction, to a social issue that a reader conflicts with, or even a political one. However, when a reader wants to attack an author, they usually come with knives out.

Which is where the point of this post comes in:

I strongly caution writers not to read reviews of their work.

Why?

Beyond the aforementioned reasons, there are a few things that lead me to follow this practice:

1. The fact that reviews can affect your works-in-progress.

Reading reviews for a series that is in progress can be detrimental to the development of the plot of that series. One misconception on the author's part can lead to second thoughts, doubts, overthinking. I've even seen some authors go back and revise books already self-published in order to cater to the reader who was put off and/or offended by their work.

2. The fact that your work will not be for everyone.

Just like in real life: not everyone is going to like you. Likewise, not everyone is going to like your work (no matter how hard you work at it.) As a result of this, it should be noted that you could write the simplest story that is literally about a rabbit chasing another rabbit and someone will still get offended by it. Some readers, I've said, are impossible to please. Sometimes they don't understand where you were going with the plot, or don't realize their perception of the work doesn't align with your own. Sometimes, people just like to be nasty.

And finally, I should point out the most dangerous part of reading reviews:

3. The fact that reviews can damage your self-esteem.

There are writers who are so sensitive to the feelings of others that they simply cannot take criticism. I've come across this several times throughout my time as a writer, as a developmental editor, and as a reader. Some people are simply not able to handle the idea that not everyone will like their book, and as a result, reduce themselves to tears when it comes to reviews. I've even seen some writers close shop and stop writing forever.

With that being said, and with those points made, I will say that there is a shining kernel of truth throughout all of this:

If someone likes your work enough, they will let you know.

And while it is true that some readers will also go to lengths to point out how much they don't like your work (from nastygram emails to @ tags on social media,) I should note that, just recently, I received fan mail from a reader in India, who found one of my free books and took the time to write to me. They didn't have to do that, but they still did.

In the end, I think it's important to take away the fact that your writing is your own. If you feel your work can be improved with criticism, work to find a critique group or partner you feel can bring out the best in you. Don't depend on the internet to give you credit, props, or even accolades for writing a book. While people will like, and even love, your work, there are an equal amount who will dislike, or even hate, it.

The last thing I'd want to see is someone give up their joy of writing because of a bad review.

[smoochkooks]

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.  

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.  

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.  

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass. 

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck. 

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.  

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.  

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.  

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.  

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.” 

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.  

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.  

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.  

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”  

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.  

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.  

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.  

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.  

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).  

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.  

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”  

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”  

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.  

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”  

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”  

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”  

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”  

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.  

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.  

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.  

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.  

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.  

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up. 

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you  

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.   [1:24pm] jungkook:

please  

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.  

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.  

“Hello, doll.”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.  

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.  

But you accept your fate the way it is.  

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.  

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.  

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.  

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.  

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”  

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”  

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.  

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”  

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”  

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”  

“I know. He told me about you.”  

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.  

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”  

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”  

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.  

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.  

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.  

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.  

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”  

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,”  You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”  

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.  

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”  

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.  

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.  

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”  

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”  

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”  

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”  

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”  

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”  

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”  

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”  

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”  

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.  

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.  

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”  

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”  

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back.  “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”  

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”  

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.  

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”  

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”  

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.  

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.  

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.  

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.  

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”  

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”  

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.  

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.  

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.  

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice  

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:  

At least text me if you’re okay

Please  

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:  

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay  

Night, miss grumpy  

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.  

[10:45am] jungkook:  

Do you have time now?  

I need to tell you sth  

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was. 

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response. 

[10:46am] me:  

I guess  

[10:46am] jungkook:  

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.  

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”  

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”  

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”  

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”  

“Should I be scared?”  

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”  

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”  

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”  

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.  

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”  

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.  

“Okay. I agree.”  

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”  

���Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”  

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.  

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”  

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.  

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”  

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.  

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.  

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment  – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”  

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.  

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”  

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.  

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”  

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”  

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers. 

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.  

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”  

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.  

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”  

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”  

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”  

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”  

“Taehyung.”  

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.  

“Is somebody jealous?”  

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”  

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.  

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.  

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.  

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”  

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.  

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”  

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.  

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides  behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.  

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”  

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”  

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”  

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.  

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.  

“What is it?”  

“You’re invited to a party.”  

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?” 

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”  

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.  

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.  

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.  

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”  

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.  

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.  

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.  

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)  

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.  

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”  

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”  

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.  

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”  

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”  

“Good.”  

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features. 

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.  

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.  

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.  

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.  

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.  

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.  

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”  

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.  

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.  

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.  

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.  

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”  

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”  

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”  

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.  

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”  

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”  

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.  

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.  

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.  

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.  

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.  

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.  

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.  

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.  

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.  

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.  

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.  

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life. 

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.  

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.  

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.  

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”  

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”  

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”  

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.  

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”  

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”   

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.  

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.  

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”  

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”  

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.  

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.  

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.  

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.  

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.  

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.  

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.  

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”  

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.  

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.  

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.  

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”  

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”  

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.  

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.  

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”  

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.  

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.  

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”  

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.  

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.  

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”  

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”  

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.  

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”  

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.  

That your little infatuation had a sequel.  

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”  

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”  

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing  stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”  

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.  

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls.  You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”  

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.  

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.  

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?  

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away. 

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.  

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.  

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”  

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.  

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.  

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”  

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”  

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”  

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”  

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”  

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”  

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”  

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.  

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”  

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.  

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”  

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.  

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”  

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”  

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”  

“Ladies first.”  

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”  

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”  

“Exactly!”  

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”  

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.  

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”  

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.  

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”  

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.  

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.  

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”  

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”  

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”  

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.  

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.  

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”  

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.  

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”  

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”  

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.  

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”  

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.  

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”  

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”  

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”  

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”  

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”  

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”  

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.  

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.  

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.  

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes. 

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.  

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.  

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”  

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.  

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing.  You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”  

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening. 

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.  

“So good,” you mewl.  

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.  

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”  

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”  

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”  

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.  

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.  

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.  

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.  

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.  

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”  

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh. 

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”  

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.  

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).  

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,”  You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”  

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.  

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.  

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.  

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss. 

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”  

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”  

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.  

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.  

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.  

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”  

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.  

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”  

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.  

“Always.”  

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.  

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.  

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.  

[5:55pm] jungkook:  

We’re departing in 20 minutes  

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.  

[6:01pm] me:  

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.  

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.  

However long it takes.  

[yuzukult]

try again, || jaehyun & reader

title: try again, pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: idol!au, angst-y (i guess) words: 2.1k prompt: you should know that I’m always on your side, please remember my answer is you. note: inspired by the song try again by d.ear & jaehyun... i tried with this one, but it got hard to finish because i forgot where i was going with it.... i guess you can call this a drabble???????? also i have not revised this my 5th time yet. lol i will probably edit this as time goes on

Every long-term relationship goes through the “humps.” There’s three separate occasions: the three year hump, five year hump, then lastly the seven year hump. Many people tackle these hurdles, some fortunate enough to win and survive, but some wistfully slip. 

You and Jaehyun failed the three year hump.

The obstacle was inevitable and surviving these challenges with him as an idol, periodically on tour when part of these issues arise didn’t make it any easier. The three-year mark resulted in a mutually angry break-up, only lasting a few months before he came back to Seoul. Healed from the fall, you thought that you were strong enough to face him. It was a lie-- the moment that you saw his face, you fell in love all over again.

Getting back together was easy. The two of you even made a pact that this wouldn’t ever happen again, and preventing it would require more communication and effort. Jaehyun was your end-game, despite the struggles of dating a celebrity, and the feelings were reciprocated.

So when the fifth year was approaching, it was no surprise that you could even feel it in the air that something was different.

Coming home everyday wasn’t the same anymore. The house echoed with silence; his slippers by the door remained vacant incessantly, and his roar of laughter isn’t here to fill the rooms with warmth. Your phone doesn’t ring with a text from him asking if you had gotten home safely nowadays, and expectations for video calls have dropped to none.

Jaehyun doesn’t “come home” lately, or at least, your home, but when he does, it means arriving during the late hours of the night and leaving at the brink of dawn. The incandescent grin that stuck on his face that comes as a package with the dimples that indent his cheeks were absent from your life now. His scent hasn’t remained in the house for months, evidence to his missing presence.

Sleeping without him proved arduous. Your eyes begging for slumber but your mind wouldn’t rest with the negative thoughts that swarmed your head.

Then there was speculation amongst social media-- every possible platform, and your phone overflowed with text messages from those who were “close” to you were all of him with new arm candy, a new beau.

It’s two in the morning, and you’re fighting with your inner self on whether or not to call in sick to work tomorrow. Snatching the carton of milk in the fridge, you grab a mug settled in the cabinet before pouring yourself a drink. Placing it into the microwave and tapping a couple of the buttons on the screen, the humming of the appliance is the only sound that floods the room.

The doorknob of the front door rattles, and he comes in with newly dyed blue disheveled hair wearing his clothes from practice, dropping his duffle bag by the door and his keys thrown into the bowl on the entryway’s table. There was no greeting nor kiss as he immediately makes his way into the kitchen.

“She’s just a co-star. We’re filming a music video, and afterwards she said she was going to grab us all coffee, and I felt bad if she went alone. I mean, there’s ten of us.” His eyes hasn’t even looked directly at you, yet somehow he knew what was running through your head.

“I didn’t say anything.” You mutter, attention wavering to the beeping of the microwave.

“You didn’t have to.” He’s standing what feels like hundreds of meters away from you. The light in the room is dim, nearly as though it reads the tension in the atmosphere.

“She’s pretty,” You say before gripping onto the warm beverage before hissing at the impact of the hot ceramic against your fingertips.

“What are you insinuating?”

You’re silent for a moment. “Maybe it’s time we should talk about us.”

Jaehyun is the guy who doesn’t say much. He’s a level-headed person, soft spoken, and sensitive yet reserved, but capable of opening his heart. He’s the one you admire from afar with his breathtaking features, a radiant smile that can wipe an entire nation, with his popular group of friends, and friendly demeanor. Even when he’s trying his best not to shine in a sea of people, he’s under the spotlight. It’s impossible for Jung Jaehyun to be just a regular person.

But recently, his heart just doesn’t feel open to you. He didn’t seem to glisten in your gaze anymore.

“What’s wrong with us?” He precipitously makes his way behind you. You don’t recall hearing the creak of the hardwood floor underneath his feet; your heart skipping a beat when your back bumps into his chest abruptly.

“Talk to me.” You gulp. He’s so close-- and what it seems like have been forever since you’ve been even this intimate; the slightest touch from him sparks nostalgia. “What’s wrong with us?”

“You’re never here anymore.”

You can’t look at him, you just can’t. You shouldn’t, because just seeing his face might bring you to the brink of tears.

Your lives were so different. He was an idol with fans throwing themselves at his feet, and constantly inundated by a plethora of talent and beauty. His ambitions weren’t aligned to yours, and it’s a miracle that the relationship lasted this long. You had such an average life, working a 9-5 job, occasionally going out on weekends to meet up with friends, and spending the remaining free time by watching movies or shows. He was out in different countries, exploring continents you’ve never even been before, and meeting thousands of people almost weekly out on tour.

It didn’t help that the relationship was always a secret. There wasn’t initially any regret about it being hidden, but the insecurities eventually began to gnaw out your insides when swarms of beautiful women flirted so shamelessly with him in front of you when you’d previously gone out on discreet dates.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to be here more. There’s a comeback soon, so the hours at work are endless.” His baritone voice vibrates in his chest against your frame, something all too familiar but hasn’t appeared in a while.

Attempting to be empathetic was easier said than done when you’re angry with someone. Turning your body around, your stare sticking to his upper torso, refraining from looking into his eyes. From your peripheral vision, he’s indisputably exhausted, dark circles residing below his eyes after removing the day’s make-up from photoshoots and filming and visibly slimmer. It isn’t a competition but you were tired too.

“If... this is taking too much of your time,” The words get caught in your throat. “Maybe we should... let this go.”

His breath hitches, taking a moment to absorb the words you’re saying albeit his heart feels like it’s shattering. “It’s not taking much of my time.”

“That’s the problem, you’re not using any of your time with this to begin with.” Practicing in front of your mirror countless times before, you thought you'd recited every possible outcome of the conversation and what you’d argue to every response he had. You were confident until standing in front of Jaehyun. It lessens your assurance on the break-up because everything about him weakens your knees.

Jaehyun pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your waist before dropping his head into the crook of your neck, pressing a warm, gentle kiss against your skin. He couldn’t face you either. “Don’t do this.”

“There’s so many women out there that are better,” You sigh, swallowing the tears. He’s too great of a guy but you’d come to terms that maybe he wasn’t for you. “Someone else who can treat you better. You can’t give me what I want.”

Grabbing your shoulders, he obligates you to look into his eyes as he knits his brows. “Those women aren’t you. Tell me what you want, I’ll do it.”

“Jaehyun, it doesn’t work like that.”

“I don’t get what you mean. We’re talking about this and I’m trying to make it work.”

“That’s the other problem, I don’t want you to make it work anymore. You have to want this, do things willingly and not because I forced you to. It’s different now. I don’t think you love me the same way I do.”

He shakes his head. “You’re wrong,” his eyes are gradually brimming with tears, and you can almost hear the sound of your heart breaking, “I’ve always loved you, I never stopped.”

Jaehyun never cries. He’s all laughs and smiles but never manifestly melancholic. He was great at hiding it but never with you. Overtime, it felt as though the only mood he had was irritation and fatigue, and only his friends and fans were given the opportunity to see the beautiful side of Jaehyun. Seeing him unsteady with your decision made it difficult to leave. Even when the relationship fell apart the first time, he didn’t even seem like he cared. He wanted to portray himself as perfect-- and he was successful at it.

His hand reaches up to push a strand of your hair away from your face and moves it behind your ear. Cupping your cheeks, he leans in, his soft, plump lips capturing yours. He fit into you like the missing piece of a puzzle, and you craved for his touch. Your mind wanted to fight him, push him off and tell him that this was over with because you couldn’t take it anymore. With him pressed up on you against the kitchen counter, he’s the cause of your foggy head and you forget what your mind tells you to do.

Letting go, saliva strings between the two of you, but neither of you are bothered by it. His eyes held despair when they linked with yours, tugging you into his embrace. “These people that step into my life aren’t here for the mutual benefits. They’re all here for my name as a celebrity, they care about who I am only when it has to do with them. They expect me to be perfect all the time, and it’s tiring.” He takes a moment to take a deep breath, nuzzling his nose into your neck, inhaling in your scent.

“When I come home to you, you don’t expect me to be perfect. And I know you still don’t, you just wish I tried. You were never persistent about me being a certain way, and I took it for granted. I just thought you’d always be by my side.”

“You know that I’m always here for you.”

“And I took advantage of that,” He responds, and there’s a sudden wetness on your neck. “That’s my flaw and it’s my fault. I want to be better for you, please let me try again.”

The emotions from the past few months start flooding back, and anger fills your bloodstream, reality hitting you in the face. “What’s going to be different from before? It’ll all still be the same.”

“It won’t.” His voice is stern, and steady, removing you from his grasp. “Come to our showings, come to our concerts, our recordings. Let’s not hide this anymore.”

You choke on your spit. “What?”

Jaehyun’s expression doesn’t change; he’s serious about his idea. “I’m sorry it took me five years, but it’s long overdue. I don’t think I can lose you, you’re my rock. I need you here. Please, think about it.”

“What are you going to be doing on this lovely Friday night?” A co-worker of yours asks, reaching up to your desk an hour before you’d be released from your duties for the weekend. 

“Honestly, not sure yet.”

She raises a brow, crossing her arms against her chest as she leans on the wall of the cubicle. “Hot boyfriend hasn’t had anything planned? If not, you should definitely come by to this new club that opened--”

“Sorry, she has plans.” Startled, the both of you turn your heads to the direction of the voice. Jaehyun’s standing in the walkway between the aisles of desks and cubicles that line up throughout the office, and you’re surprised he even finds yours. “Also, I’m not her boyfriend anymore. Didn’t she tell you, I’m her fiance.” He smiles cheekily, giving your coworker a glimpse of his dimples and raising the bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

His hair is slicked back with gel, the blue dye washed out and a dirty blonde comes out from underneath. He has on a white button-up, a couple buttons undone, sleeves rolled up and shirt tucked in his black slacks. Jaehyun walks over to you, handing you the bouquet before bowing at your coworker. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound rude. It’s our anniversary today.”

“Anniversary?” She glances at you questioningly.

“Yes. Happy 7th Year Anniversary, love.”

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Since you’re promoting Zelda OCs I would like to share this thing that happened to me with you and if you want you can also tell me what you think. There is this botw artist who had her Zelda OC whom I liked very much. Her art is beautiful but she’s been very mean. It's true: “never meet your heroes”. One day she shared a post about her OC asking others if they had ocs as well. I shared my OC in the comment section saying I made my OC based of myself. She immediately DM me saying I should delete the comment because to her it looked like I wanted to use her ‘popularity’ to promote my art (dude wtf she isn’t even THAT famous lmao). I ofc told her I was ashamed by it and deleted it... I complimented her and she didn’t even give a shit about it. I told her I wanted to let her see my OC to not make her feel ‘alone’ and she told me “uhm okay I don’t need your approval, I’m quite happy with that I make”. And last but not least when I said I’d been following her since 2018 she said “but I don’t see you among my followers”. What do you think? It made me so depressed I quit drawing my OC for three days.

Well, obviously I have no context for the whole extent of this situation, so very well could be misunderstand and tone and other stuff factored in there, but going off what you’ve said overall sounds like she’s a BITCH. Not very poggers of her if I do say so myself. 

There’s maybe an argument and point to made there about not putting art in another person’s art post because I guess it could be seen as derailing. But like, if she asked for people to share their ocs then people are gonna share their ocs lmao. Also, and this is just my personal opinion and I’m no artist myself so take this as you will, if someone posts art, and then someone reblogs that with their art that’s related/inspired by the original topic, 90% I’m able to appreciate both art separately. Welp, I guess she’s op so she gets some semblance onto how she wants people to interact so. Good for her for not needing people’s approval to enjoy the things she makes

But that shit about “using popularity” and questioning your follow time...wow that’s bitchy sldkjfs apologies I can’t think of the proper synonym for it but it just is. Gonna call the cops? Gonna report me? “Oh how scandalous that this person who follows me and likes my content has been following for only 200 days and not a YEAR like they said smh” boi shut the fuck up no one cares. I don’t care, and you shouldn’t care. If you’ve followed since 100 followers, sweet. If you’re here from just this month, welcome. What is this gatekeeping obsession with how long you follow people for like I get it if you’re friends or mutuals but literally what is there to gain by saying shit like “only REAL ones have been here since 1k subscribers” or “only my TRUE fans are the ones from 2017″ like fucking shut up, since when has follow time constituted for how much you enjoy and appreciate something 

“Using my popularity to your advantage” arguments have also grinded my Ancient gears. Like yes, there are assholes who only want to talk with you or be friends just so they can use your position or whatever for their benefit. They totally exist don’t get me wrong. People who are like that, you have my approval to punt them. But also, the entire idea that just because someone is benefitting from someone else’s popularity they are a bad person is really wrong. Not to bash capitalism on the Zelda sideblog, but the entire idea that the rich and “famous” (heavy heavy quotation marks there considering we are on tumblr) are only successful because of their hard work is just blatantly false. Sure it’s important, it gets you like 50-70% of the way there, but the rest of that very significant percentage is just luck, or just factors in user engagement, or current trends or maybe they’re related to someone influential. It’s a roll of the dice. You don’t own popularity, you just don’t. That is completely owed to the people that follow and engage with you, so who are you to insult them.

Now, I’m not saying that you owe your followers anything, in fact, yeah I’d agree blatantly: You don’t owe your followers anything. You make the thing, they get the thing, they follow/like/share, the transaction is over. But at the same time, don’t act like a high and mighty bitch about it, fucking “using her popularity,” how much of your precious and popular time do you waste to give a nice comment, or even sharing something made by someone else, someone that could very well be the reason you’re in the position you’re in right now. Yeah bitch how about you use your “popularity” to give attention to someone talented, what do you have to lose by sharing something good with people. And no one better give me that shit about “OhhhHhhHHhhhh but if you share it then they didn’t eaarrnnnn anything and they can’t leaaaAAARnn and growww” cause first of all no, shut the fuck up, bash your capitalism brain into the earth and stop thinking that all success and growth has to be born out of pain and sacrifice. Secondly, just because someone popular shares something, it that doesn’t mean all that engagement instantly gets passed on to another person. That engagement would only get passes if the person was skill/talented/created something great AKA they worked in that regard to earn it. Idk about you, but if someone I like promotes another person, I don’t just automatically follow them, I look at them, and if I like them and what they do, then I follow. Such an incredibly stupid argument to me when people say that people are leeching off of popularity like it’s some finite resource, anyone can get a couple hundred likes and views, but if the stuff you make is quality and good, that’s when people stick around.

If you’re “popular” you should also share the work of other people that you like. Now THAT’S JUST MY PERSONAL OPINION cause there are other reasons that you might not mass reblog shit to keep yourself organized or you purely just focus on your account for sharing and nothing else or whatever other reasons there are that are probably valid, but it’s how I feel. So if you share, don’t share because someone asked or begged you, or because you want the nice guy clout, just fucking share the stuff that you like because you like it, because those 5 seconds it takes to click a few buttons could mean a world of change to someone who very well could have been in your position had the stars of the social media algorithm aligned a bit differently.  

Wow I wrote a lot, I guess this was something I really wanted to rant about huh. I guess I just really want you to know that, yeah, that person sounds like a bitch, and you shouldn’t let that experience stop you from making the things that make you happy. TL;DR be nice to your nice followers, popularity is a made up currency so just fucking spend it wildly, OCs are pretty rad

[eclecticlanie]

Reaching out to Loki

OKAY SO first and foremost I need to say I NEVER before have ever reached out to any deities other than the one God I follow religiously. This is a complete first time for me.

So a little starting information on this. I was talking with a family member who brought up that a certain female, of non relation but dating a man married in but then removed-father of a blood relation, was messaging my family members harassing them for things completely out of our families control and particularly not involving us in any way shape or form. The person that would be involved in these things is actually dead... for a long ass time now. This woman is running her mouth, insulting family members, blaming us for things we have nothing to do with, and consistently insulting a dead family member (ex of this man mentioned above, mother of their child). She has been told to stop on various occasions but simply hasn’t happened. I decide I’m going to break my promise to my Hubs and hex her. Not harmfully. I didn’t get his blessing but he will not stop me he said. The only reason being I plan on trying to make it as humorously as possible. 

I discuss hex ideas across the board, all over social media. I decide to message a witch friend and see if she had any ideas. She suggested I call on Loki. Me… being me, thinks this is brilliant! Just the shenanigans he would love! I go to the store to buy some supplies to set up a small alter to attempt to communicate with him through. You know- green candle, some cinnamon incense, some jade. I came across a small chip of blue kyanite as well that I was very drawn to but not necessarily for me. I felt like I should give it to Loki and from what I remember reading about Loki is that he likes small trinkets and things of nonsense. I buy that too. Figured maybe he can cleanse himself with it after we do shenanigans if he agrees to work with me. Who doesn’t let friends shower at their homes? I get home and remember I had one more Redditor waiting for a tarot reading. I do the reading and send them their information. To close and cleanse my deck between readings I shuffle my cards after a reading. Here I am shuffling and boom! Two cards fly out!

The Star (r)- I need to not feel discouraged or despaired. I need to trust myself that I’m doing the right thing. 

9 of Swords- I need to muster up the courage and realize this might not be as bad as I think it is for me to be hexing the person I’m going to be hexing.

I stop in my tracks. Am I talking with the God of Mischief?! I didn’t set anything up that I had planned to. How in the world is this happening right now. Did I just seriously focus on him that much while talking with my friend and shopping for him? I decide to ask out loud. If this is Loki, the one and only, pull a Major Arcana card. If it is not then pull a Minor Arcana. I started to shuffle. Within moments of shuffling the Wheel of Fortune pops out. I pick it up thinking it was just one card. Oh no. Three cards were right behind it perfectly aligned to where you could not tell it was more than one card at all. I spread these three out and read the message attached to Loki’s “Yes” response.

Page of Swords- This card describes the God, himself! Cunning, curious, witty, and clever but has a slight lack in the maturity department.

3 of Wands: Tells me right this moment is not the time to do things by myself. Success will come with cooperation and collaboration. I have a great opportunity in front of me and I need to make the most of it. I also need to put my trust in him as well as be open to his ideas. 

2 of Wands: This is asking me to make a point blank decision on whether or not I’ll be taking Loki’s offer to work with him.

I decide WELL! If that ain’t a trick question if I ever heard one. What is a collaboration decision without discussing the terms… I ask if we can discuss terms and state if your answer is ‘yes’ pull a card in reverse, if ‘no’ pull one upright. I shuffle and no less than two seconds in a card  falls out in reverse. He is quick with his answers. 

I then realize I don’t know shit about making terms with a god because I’ve never worked with anyone other than the One High and Mighty. I don’t count talking to Metatron as technically ‘working’ with him. He is great. We have great conversations. He helps me. But there was never an instance like the one I’m about to embark on. I consider Metatron like a guardian angel since he sought me out and not vice versa. I asked if we can put this conversation off until I do some research on terms since I have no experience in it. I started to shuffle and IMMEDIATELY another card popped. It was a ‘yes’. I am officially in love with how much respect this god is showing me already. Then again, I did just go crazy looking for supplies just to even attempt to reach out with no real expectation of someone of his likeness to ever respond to me of all people. I told my friend about this whole conversation and I asked her how in the world would I summon him before I meant to summon him. She laughed at me and said I was talking to her about him earlier. She works with him. So... It was that simple. Now I need to research terms and conditions of working with gods so I can get this ball rolling!

IF ANYONE HAS ANY CUTE, HILARIOUS, NON-HARMFUL HEXES THEY’D LIKE TO SHARE PLEASE FEEL FREE TO DM ME, COMMENT HERE, ANYTHING! I WANT TO CREATE SOMETHING MAGNIFICENTLY FUNNY!

[alittlefrenchtree]

I feel so conflicted about Timmy. I loved the sweet, humble guy he was, but now he acts like the biggest diva, going to fashion shows, only hanging out with famous people. I miss the old Timmy, what I see now I don't like. And I don't like that he left earlier and didn't care about Armie, but can stop rehearsing to show his face at fashion weeks. I feel at the beginning it was only about his talent, now it's more about his fashion choices. I don't want to hate, I just feel different about him.

Me @ everyone who will read this answer : Please be kind?

Seriously, just be kind. That’s not a question, just be kind.

More important, unless you’re Nonny and looking for an answer of mine you really don’t have to read all of that. It’s mostly an observation on how Timmy’s career and image is handled right now and nothing groundbreaking at all. There a little bit about his relationship with Armie towards the end. Honestly even you, Nonny, you weren’t probably asking for an answer this long. I just love to hear myself thought, apparently. Sorry if it’s boring as hell for you 😅

I choose to believe that this ask isn’t coming from a wickedness place and doesn’t want to be mean. That’s the main reason why I’m answering this ask, instead of deleting it.

The second reason is because I’ve been contemplating the same kind of questions and the same kind of issues about Timmy for a while now. And since I’m now mostly at peace with all of it, and with the way I see him, I thought it could be interesting to share around that.

By sharing my view on how things are at this moment, I don’t want to invalidate your feelings, dear Nonny (or anyone who feels the same way). Like I said, I understand where they come from. I only hope that, by reading a different point of view, you’ll managed to feel a little bit less conflicted and maybe go back to enjoy some Timmy content like you used to. I hope I won’t sound to harsh or anything. This isn’t my intention at all.

I think the most important thing to remember is that 99% of what we see of Timmy is work. The work of an actor is not only acting. Especially when you have the ambition to become and to stay the kind of actor Timmy wants to be. Every time you see him at a public event, he’s working. Networking is working. Existing in the media eyes is working. Attending as fashion shows is working. That doesn’t mean that, in the case of fashion show for example, Haider isn’t also his friend. Of course they’re friends and of course he’s also showing support for his friend’s work. But it’s also a work relationship. That’s why it needs to be public. Haider is the one dressing him for the premieres of his movies. Haider is one of those who helped build his fashion reputation. Being seen together and publicly supporting each other work, it’s good for both of them, professionally speaking. What I mean is, when you see Tim at a fashion show or at a Hollywood party, it’s not free time for him. It’s a scheduled event on his work schedule. So when you said that he stops rehearsing to go to fashion show, that’s not entirely true. Firstly because it’s on week-end. Secondly, it would be like saying that he stops acting to do promo. Both things are work. Attending to Haider’s fashion show is also work.

Beside the London-Paris journey is hardly an effort. It would take me almost the same amont of time to go to Paris using public transports and I’m living like really close to Paris. And beside bis Timmy has seen SWM within the window of two days that was allowed by his work schedule so it’s not like he has never managed to make things work for Armie either.

For me, the problem is that Timmy has three jobs at the moment. He’s ‘one of the best actor of his generation’, the ‘most influential man in fashion’ and ‘a heartthrob for teenagers and young adults’. I’m phrasing things this way on purpose, because it shows how much weighs on him at the moment. All of this means a lot of expectations on him, a lot of judgements but also a lot of money depending on him. Even if all of his current statuts has been happening in a more or less natural way (he’s one of the best actor of his generation because he’s good at acting, his interest for fashion seems genuine and… well… He’s damn cute so of course he’s a teenage dream), my main concern is the fact that, right now, his public image is handled to encourage these three status at the same time. As long as his acting career is doing fine, it’s not a problem. If his acting career starts to be on the skids, or if one of his parts on a movie is suddenly having very bad reviews, the whole world will start to look at him and at his fashion/heartthrob statuts with different eyes.

But that moment hasn’t happened yet so I think it’s unfair to call him out on that now. He has shown nothing but hard work on the acting part of his career, and he has great things aligned for the next year. He’s a lead on the Dune remake by Denis Villeneuve, he’s starring on a Wes Anderson movie, he has that Bob Dylan thing who he seems really committed to and he’s about to do a run of a promising play. I think his choice on going back to theater, where everything is about acting, is really relevant of how focused is still he’s on acting.

I think it’s also interesting to notice the timing. For the past two years, Timmy has always been disappearing around that time of the year. So much that the Timmy drought has become a thing in the fandom. In the past, Timmy has expressed his need of disappearing and ‘going back in the mud’, both literally and figuratively, after being exposed to public eyes at this extend and for a long period of time. Truth is, I believe that Timmy is not allowed to disappear anymore. I don’t think you’re allowed to disappear for a while when Legendary Pictures is betting a lot amount of money on your pretty face. Because to disappear means media and social media will talk less about you and, in this industry, if people stop talking about you it basically means you’re dead.

So he can’t disappear. But somehow he found a way to focus on acting through theater, even if he has to do it in front of the public eyes. To be honest, I think it’s the least bad solution. I think the need to disappear for him (or anyone for that matter) for a decent period of time is really crucial for mental health and he hasn’t had this opportunity for a while, and I’m afraid he won’t have it either for the near future. Don’t get me wrong, I love that he’s doing theater again. I love having the opportunity to see him live perform I just wish he has a little bit more time to stay off the radar before going back for a whole year of craziness.

I understand that it can be frustrating to feel like most of the talks about him are about something else than his roles or his movies or his acting skills. Like I said, it’s part because of his/his team’s fault because they’ve been feeding the talk so it can keep going and going. It’s also part because the world works this way and is superficial as hell. Movie talks last a few months with the pre-promo/the premieres/the actually promo. A little bit more if you’re lucky enough to get nominations and awards. Then it becomes old news. Timmy’s persona exists every day. He’s doing and wearing new things every day and people are always more excited by what’s new. And the media will keep on using anything to have him as click-bait. It’s a win-win situation for both sides.

Except you never know when people are going to switch. One day they keep on waiting more and more of someone and the next day, they already grew tired of thi person. It’s been too much. They over did it. I sometimes use a tag that say something like « when can we say that too much is too much? » to react to what people and media sometimes do/write/say about Timmy to express this kind of feeling. Of course Tim and his team can’t control everything that is being said about him but I believe that the decisions they made in the past year? year and an half? have lead to this kind of craziness. This makes me think of that french paper, which was basically saying ‘why don’t we stop to consider Timmy as a kitten and make a fuss of everything he did and why don’t we start focusing on how he acts, because that is the real interesting thing to talk about.

Despite everything I can’t hold all of this too-much-ness against him when he’s still working so hard on his roles. I can’t blame him when I think of him giving so much on himself in that before-the-battle speech in The King that I want to go fight with and for him. I can’t blame him when I see him giving so much of himself for Laurie that he’s making me laugh and melt in the middle of a cinema room full of people when I’m usually pretty stoic in public. I just can’t blame him when I hear him talk about Dune and being so excited that he literally can’t stop himself for bouncing on his chair. I just can’t.

What I can do is not not pay attention to everything. I know it’s not an easy thing to do on tumblr and on social media when he’s everywhere and people are retweeting and reblogging the same things over and over again but if I’m not interested, I try to not pay attention. Back during CMBYN and BB era, I think I was looking at and reading everything. I’ve stopped shortly after. I didn’t read the article you’re referring to, for example. Because what’s Timmy is wearing interests me but not the shallow and irrelevant articles people will write about it. Most of them will say the same thing, that it’s Timothée Chalamet world now and us peasants are just humbly living on it. It’s going to be said over and over again until something newer, younger comes along. It’s ok. Being a teenage heartthrob will pass. Being the most influential man in fashion will probably also pass. I mean his fashion choices will probably keep on arousing interest but the world is going to catch up. Eventually.

But acting will stay.

And if in the meantime, he manages to enjoy a little bit of more superficial things and take a shot or two of confidence along the way without regretting too many decisions he made, I say why not let him do that? It’s not like we have a word to say anyway.

I understand what you mean about missing him being sweet and humble even if I disagree with you. I’m not saying that he’s not sweet and humble anymore but I felt something shift between the BB era and TK era. It’s also frustrating because it’s more a feeling than something I can prove or explain. I just don’t think he’s changed, I think he’s a little bit more guarded than before. And if I look at things from an human perspective, it makes sense?

The more people are watching me, irl or online, the more I’m going to be cautious about things I said and how I behave. The more guarded I’ll be. And in my case, we’re only talking about dozens from a few hundreds tops of people tops. Can you imagine living your life in front of millions people? I’d put some distance and some defenses between me and the world as well. He has to if he wants to survive.  

We’ve been lucky to have witnessed something as precious and rare as what we have witnessed during the CMBYN and a little bit during the BB era. It was something beautiful but it wasn’t meant to last. Not in the same kind of proportions anyway.

So I don’t think Timmy is acting like the biggest diva. Like I’ve said, what we see of his life is 99% work-related and we see about 10% of his time? Less of that?

Like for example, he’s been in London for what? 10-12 days now? And if I’m not mistaking, we haven’t seen him anywhere except from fans meeting him briefly outside of the theater and him picking up food? Whatever he’s doing, if he has a wild life or if he’s in bed at 9pm every night, he’s being discreet about it. Like he’s always been discreet about his private life, his close friends and his family. Just because he’s discreet about it doesn’t mean he doesn’t see them — old friends and people who aren’t famous. He just doesn’t feel the need to post their face on social media or meeting them in front of paparazzis.

Of course if I wanted to see him as a diva, I could. I’d look at him wearing sunglasses inside and declare that he’s a diva. When there could be thousands of reasons for him to wear sunglasses inside. I wouldn’t surprise me to learn that flashes during fashion week are painful for the eyes, especially for people with color eyes as light as Timmy’s. Especially if you’re tired. Or hangover. Or maybe he’s just thinking of sunglasses as an integral part of his outfit. Like shoes or socks or jewelry or backpacks. Or maybe he just feel safer that way and it helps his anxiety. I tried wearing sunglasses all day long at a couple of occasions when I was particularly tired and it was kind of amazing. Plus it allows you to avoid eye contact with humans which is also amazing.

I wanted to touch a little bit on the fashion topic before moving on to the Armie one. I’m guessing you’re not really passionate or fond of fashion. It’s ok. You’re allowed to and fashion and haute couture don’t do much to help themselves. Or didn’t do much. I guess things are slowly changing like everywhere else. But there are a lot of ego, of superficiality, a lot of changes and improvements that could be made. A friend who has worked for designers and still work in the fashion industry once told me that the industry wouldn’t be that bad if designers stop acting like they were saving the world with their clothes. My point is, just because something has a reputation, doesn’t mean every person who takes part of this thing has the same reputation. There are people in fashion who are truly passionate about what they’re doing and teach you things about fashion that make you look at clothes as wearable pieces of art. Because when you look closely at haute couture, you can see that fashion can take its influences in architecture, sculpture, painting and in many many others artistic disciplines. It has its own history, its own revolutions, its own movements. It tells something about our time and ourselves as a society. All of that goes without even mentioning the close relationship between fashion, high fashion and movies, which I’m sure is very interesting from a Timmy perspective. (I swear I wrote all of that before reading the Dazed itw. Like pinky swear).

At this point, Timmy could have a seat in the first row for every fashion show of every brand. He could attend to all of them, with a different outfit for each, make a show every time and take all the clothes that designers would sell their cat to see him wearing. He doesn’t. He shows up for about two designers and communicate about one more and that’s all. It’s work. Something related to his red carpet premieres. It’s fun and something he uses to express himself and his personality. I think he said something in the Dazed interview among these lines. That fashion is fun but is main focus in on acting.

Here :

“With the development of my career, I also slowly entered the fashion industry. I can feel that fashion and movies are similar to a certain extent. For me, participating in a movie or wearing a suit is about the people I work with, not the brand or money. That's why I keep working with Haider and Virgil. I also maintain good relationships with many brands, but I will not be overly tied to fashion for this. Because my career is an actor, my dream is to be an actor, and I am very satisfied and very happy to be an actor.”

Regarding of Armie… Honestly I’m kind of tired of the debate. Because I’m tired of what the debate says about how we see relationships these days, without even talking about Armie and Timmy.

I’m still trying to understand at which point we has started to need public proofs of private relationships. Likes, Facebook statuts, pictures shared publicly, couple selfies… I mean what the point? How have we become so insecure about relationships and ourselves that we’re now feeling the need to share proofs of private relationships with the whole world to believe it? And to the point that we are now projecting our own insecurities on relationships of others? It makes absolutely no sense to me.

If I wasn’t talking with/seeing my close ones for a whole year or a whole decade for whatever reason, they would still be my close ones. I believe the same thing about Armie and Timmy. Except these two idiots seems to be talking to each other all the time and seeing each other pretty regularly. But because Armie isn’t about work anymore, we don’t have to see it.

Over the past four years, they’ve done nothing but showing and saying how much they care about each other and know about each other and how much they’re still close. Timmy literally said I love you to Armie in a damn public speech. Name me another person for whom he said that. The three words, plane and simple.

If you’re willing to believe that liking each other post on social media or showing up at a public events or pose in front of photographers are better proofs of closeness that what they’ve been doing so far, that says something about how you see relationships, not about how they really are.

Loving someone is not always about rubbing it off publicly for everyone to see. More often than not, loving someone is about answering your phone in the middle of the night, because the person you love and care about can’t sleep or is on another time zone and needs you. That something you can show off on social media or get papped. And maybe we need to start to believe that it’s even more valuable exactly because of that.

[dotaccountant]

(LOVIE SIMONE, 23, FEMALE, SHE/HER) ⮕ Hey, isn’t that [DOROTHEA “DOT” HARTLEY]? I heard that they were a part of the crew. According to the wiki it says they’re the [ACCOUNTANT] of the group. Avid fans say that they’re [PRAGMATIC], but that they can also be [MOODY]. Maybe that’s because they’re a [CAPRICORN]. This gossip forum says they joined the group because [SHE NEEDS THE MONEY]. I wonder if that’s true. I also heard they [DO NOT] believe in ghosts. I wonder if their time in arcane inc will change that. (peyton, 23, est.)

mun info.

hey girly! just wanted to let you know i literally cannot handle this right now :)

uhh okay!! my name is peyton, i’m 23, i’m a college senior, i’m a libra, i’ve been rping for [redacted] years. i managed to escape for like two years until quarantine hit so here i am, like a dog going back to its’ vomit. i’m an illiterate roman roy enthusiast lesbian who is just excited to be here. my discord is ilyinichna#9370 (not me outing myself as a russian lit nerd. disgusting). please feel free to add me!!!

some cheeky stats.

full name: dorothea eloise hartley nicknames: dot by the crew, dottie exclusively by her mother, lame ass nerd by me birthdate: december 31st, 1997 occupation: accountant for arcane inc. nationality: american

orientation: bisexual moral alignment: lawful good myers-briggs: infp temperament: melancholic

about.

it snowed the day dot was born, her mother would say fondly as she reminisced of better times for the two. edna hartley always made it a point to say no matter what she was conceived out of love and for awhile, dot believed that. her parents met when her mother was touring europe and she fell for a charming french aspiring writer, louis, who said all of the right things. not long after their summer romance, edna found out she was pregnant and at first louis was thrilled. he proposed on the spot. edna had dreams of becoming a stage actress so the two flew out to a shoebox apartment in new york to start their little family.

except edna never got her big break and louis never even started the next great novel and the bills were piling up. they were getting money from edna’s family, but louis’s pride wouldn’t accept it any longer. he took two jobs while edna stayed home with baby dot. 

she loved dot and dot herself never doubted it, but she was certainly not ready to be a mother. she was immature and treated her only daughter more like a best friend than her child. taking care of a child all day with no escape took a strain on edna and eventually took a strain on her marriage. what started as harsh whispers would soon turn into screaming matches that dot could hear through the thin walls. it was that way for years and dot looked at her parents differently. she had resentment for her father and the feeling was mutual, he blamed them for the fact he never achieved his dream. the older dot grew she soon was the one taking care of edna, who some days couldn’t even get out of bed.

dot comes home from school at fifteen to see her and edna’s bags packed. she says the two of them are going to california and dot goes with her without any hesitation. a new start was what they needed, they could look out for each other.

except it wasn’t. edna and dot both work odd jobs to make ends meet and when dot isn’t at school she’s accompanying her mother to auditions that she doesn’t get called back for. she scores a few commercials which is enough to keep them afloat for a brief amount of time. much of dot’s teen years are spent apartment hopping, couch surfing, and sleeping in motels throughout LA. if she was younger she might have been charmed by their vagabond lifestyle, but dot knew they couldn’t live that way forever.

if anything, dot learned a lot about how money worked when she was young. she always had a knack for numbers and after crunching the numbers to figure out if you could pay your electric bill for the month really gives you an advantage. she learned how to budget because no one else was going to. 

she’s working a job doing data entry when she first hears of arcane inc. one of her coworkers wouldn’t stop talking about them. dot isn’t interested as she’s never though much about the supernatural, chalking up companies like arcane to exploit people’s fears. no thanks. her mother believed in spirits enough for the both of them. (besides if karma was real, she would’ve seen a check from louis for the book deal he got over a year ago).

dot does go down a rabbit hole though when she realizes just how big of a following aracane has. people will really believe anything. the moment she sees that they’re hiring, she sees it as an opportunity. a company with millions of followers has to give their employees a reasonable salary. she didn’t have any real work experience outside of her office job but she was damn good with numbers and she was already used to traveling.

she’s been at arcane inc. for about a year now and still doesn’t really get what all the hype is about but that doesn’t matter. dot makes enough to send money to edna and she’s even started to put money aside to go to college. dot’s never been one to dream big, look at what it did to her parents, so she’s planned out every step without reaching out too far for the stars.

headcanons.

yeah her mom’s a failed theater actress but dot has a really secret love for musicals. you won’t find her ever talking about it though and if anyone found out she’d kill them. not joking don’t text.

her social media presence is little to none. not that she thinks she’s above it but she’s just genuinely bad at keeping up and she doesn’t love being in front of a camera. (her instagram posts are all blurry with bad filters and weird angles, bless her heart).

she’s probably the most stubborn person you will ever meet. i blame it on her being an earth sign i’m just saying a ghost could be right in front of her and she’d go and?

dot’s a really good listener (years of practice) and will take secrets to the grave but she’s pretty bad at giving advice. she doesn’t really know what to do when someone starts crying except give them an awkward pat.

her intuition is pretty good though. she’s good at reading situations she just doesn’t know how to react sometimes.

tw abuse: so while her father was never physically abusive, there was an incident from when she was twelve. he had been drinking and dot got out of bed to get water from the kitchen. he yells at her, as he often did, and throws an empty beer bottle at her. she threw up her arms to defend herself and there are still a few scars from the glass shards.

the way to her heart? anything peppermint which i know is arguably the worst dessert flavor but she can’t get enough of it.

tends to chew on things when she’s working. no pen cap is safe. she usually has candies on her so she has something to munch on.

connection ideas.

i prefer chemistry over anything else!! these are just some ideas to get the ball rolling. (also i am so bad at coming up with connections.)

friends. i mean....yeah jsfdkljfd. as basic as that is she just never had many of those growing up! dot’s kept a few people close but for the first time in her life she’s out of reach from her mother so it’s a good chance to socialize.

more specifically? a best friend. in the same vein but dot would really put this person above everyone else. she’s really loyal and it’d be nice to have such a close bond with someone.

a childhood friend or two too!! she’s moved around quite a bit but she stayed in new york (and she considers when she first moved to la still part of her childhood) for quite a bit, definitely long enough to make a connection!

someone she’s pulling out of trouble maybe. while dot’s not a maternal figure (leave that to the nurturer) she does have a compulsive need to help people out. it’s very frustrating but she can’t stop.

negative nancy. she can be so pessimistic and annoying so she’d appreciate having someone she could just vent to.

exes. it has to be a past relationship because dot is not a hook up person like AT ALL, but she’s human and she likes companionship (sometimes). 

honestly whatever you can think of! cousins, pen pals, unrequited crush (either way), friend crush, enemies, people she avoids, shared interest buddies, good/bad influence!

[scintfms]

           hi  kids  !  wow  ,  we’re  already  at  opening  and  that’s  so  crazy  !  i’m  kofi  ,  your  co - admin  ,  and  i’m  so  excited  that  you  guys  are  here  !  i’m  23  ,  from  the  est  tz  ,  prefer  she / they  pronouns  and  i  graduate  from  college  in  a  little  more  than  seven  months  ...  yikes  .  that  being  said  ,  i’m  ready  to  introduce  you  guys  to  my  latest  muse  ,  who  may  have  huge  development  changes  as  we  go  on  because  of  him  being  brand  new  ,  mr  .  saint  moon  !  he’s  um  ...  something  of  a  mess  and  idk  if  i  love  or  hate  him  yet  ,  but  i’m  happy  to  plot  with  ya’ll  on  my  d.iscord  @  𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.#4090  !

            (  lee  juyeon ,  22  ,  cis  male  ,  he / him  )  *  fun  fact  about  me  ?  okay  ,  let’s  see  .  .  .   an  injury  stopped  my  promising  olympic  career  .  crazy  ,  right  ?  i’m  saint  moon  ,  i  live  in  the  contemporary  new  build  with  a  three  thousand  square  foot  outdoor  patio  on  ocean  lane  in  key  biscayne  , &  not  to  brag  ,  but  my  family’s  worth  around  $740  million  .  pretty  decent  for  real  estate  and  construction  developers  ,  huh  ?  we’ve  been  around  for  some  time  ,  but  in  town  ,  everyone’s  always  associated  me  with  the  gatsbys  ;  but  it’s  not  like  that’s  my  whole  identity  ,  or  anything  .  while  filming  for  key  biscayne  ,  it  was  surprising  when  i’d  get  dragged  on  twitter  for  being  “  errant  ,  impetuous  ,  &  rancorous  ,   ”  but  the  cameras  don’t  see  everything  ,  &  my  real  fans  know  that  i’m  nothing  but  coolheaded  ,  venturesome  ,  &  enamoring  .  i’m  not  too  bothered  by  it  though  ,  because  since  the  series  ended  ,  i’ve  opened  a  highly  successful  café  in  south  korea  and  planning  to  expand  to  the  states  .  follow  me  on  instagram  @SNT.MN  to  keep  up  . 

name  :  saint  moon  .

nickname(s)  :  none  .

age  +  date  of  birth  :  22  +  july  19th  ,  1998  .

astrological  sign  :  cancer  .

myers - briggs  personality  type  :  infj  .

enneagram  type  :  the  individualist  .

moral  alignment  :  chaotic  neutral  .

gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he / him / his  .

place  of  birth  :  gangnam  ,  south  korea  .

place  of  residence  :  key  biscayne  ,  florida  .

sexual  orientation  :  bisexual  .

romantic  orientation  :  biromantic  .

occupation  :  former  reality  star  /  instagram  influencer  /  café  owner  .

nationality  :  korean  .

ethnicity  :  korean  .

language(s)  spoken  :  korean  ,  english  ,  japanese  ,  and  learning  mandarin  .

social  media  handle  :  @SNT.MN

THE  BACKSTORY  .

            saint’s  story  starts  when  his  parents  ,  moon  ji - ho  and  park  soo - ah  went  on  their  first  date  .  in  truth  ,  it  had  been  a  rare  instance  of  love  at  first  sight  when  they  bumped  into  each  other  at  ji - ho’s  office  in  seoul  ,  and  the  date  was  only  used  to  solidify  their  feelings  .  you  see  ,  ji - ho  and  soo - ah  were  fairly  well  known  with  ji - ho  being  the  second  heir  to  moon  industries  alongside  his  sister  ,  moon  eun -  ha  .  moon  industries  was  founded  in  the  1940s  ,  and  is  known  primarily  for  their  real  estate  and  construction  business  .  the  company  was  founded  in  seoul  ,  and  originally  started  out  by  purchasing  and  renovating  beautiful  homes  and  condominiums  within  the  city  .  after  thirty  years  in  the  business  ,  ji - ho  and  eun - ha’s  father  was  one  of  the  first  in  south  korea  to  reach  the  status  of  billionaire  .

            ji - ho  and  soo -ah  were  looking  to  forge  their  own  path  ,  though  .  although  they  were  lucky  enough  to  have  wealthy  parents  ,  both  of  them  have  always  liked  the  idea  of  working  for  themselves  and  getting  their  hands  dirty  .  so  ,  they  refused  ji - ho’s  father’s  investment  and  decided  to  start  their  own  real  estate  firm  .  they  went  through  the  process  of  obtaining  their  real  estate  license  in  both  south  korea  and  the  united  states  ,  specifically in  florida  .  after  studying  hard  ,  they  were  able  to  open  moon  real  estate  ,  and  it  was  a  hassle  for  them  .  they  initially  ‘ struggled ’  seeing  as  though  they  were  their  only  employees  ,  and  soon  ,  soo - ah  discovered  that  she  was  pregnant  with  their  son  .

            for  four  years  ,  they  worked  hard  with  their  bumbling  baby  boy  ,  saint  ,  crawling  at  their  feet  and  curiously  looking  at  home  or  building  buyers  .  for  a  long  time  ,  they  considered  saint  to  be  their  closer  as  he  was  the  selling  point  and  allowed  people  to  hold  him  while  looking  at  the  home  .  usually  ,  soo - ah  would  use  saint  as  a  marketing  ploy  whenever  they  were  trying  to  sell  to  young  couples  ,  and  it  always  worked  .  the  moons  became  known  for  saint  syndrome  ,  where  those  same  young  couples  would  typically  call  to  say  that  they  were  expecting  within  a  year  of  buying  their  home  .  it  only  took  a  few  years  ,  but  the  moons  were  soon  raking  in  their  own  money  without  the  help  of  ji - ho’s  father  .  

            when  saint  was  six  ,  his  family  relocated  to  key  biscayne  ,  florida  .  life  was  easy  living  on  the  water  ,  and  his  parents  continued  to  sell  gorgeous  homes  both  in  seoul  and  in  the  wealthy  neighborhoods  of  florida  .  with  such  a  lifestyle  ,  it  wasn’t  unheard  of  for  saint  to  excel  at  his  private  school  ,  where  he  was  known  for  his  academic  prowess  as  well  as  his  ability  to  play  both  the  piano  and  the  cello  .  saint  was  a  fairly  popular  student  while  growing  up  ,  and  it  showed  when  the  moons  would  host  their  annual  christmas  party  .

            he  was  fourteen  when  he  finally  started  to  understand  the  rivalry  between  thoroughbreds  and  gatsbys  .  originally  ,  he  put  off  like  he  didn’t  care  ,  but  in  reality  he  was  trying  to  figure  it  out  .  the  moons  were  a  special  case  ,  considering  that  ji - ho  was  clearly  an  heir  to  a  billion  dollar  fortune  ,  but  also  had  become  wealthy  in  his  own  right  thanks  to  his  business  with  his  wife  .  saint  never  understood  that  jabs  and  jeers  that  he  would  receive  from  thoroughbreds  ,  because  to  him  ,  they  were  all  rich  so  what  the  hell  did  it  matter  ?  he  eventually  began  to  side  more  with  the  gatsbys  ,  never  understanding  why  the  thoroughbreds  felt  as  though  they  needed  to  stick  their  noses  up  in  the  air  at  them  .

            within  two  years  ,  though  ,  saint  seems  to  have  changed  for  the  worse  .  while  his  grades  may  be  good  ,  he  begins  to  spend  more  time  with  new  friends  in  miami  .  while  there  ,  he  surrounds  himself  with  fast  cars  and  short  nights  ,  but  he  thinks  it’s  his  parents’  fault  for  buying  him  a  488  spider  for  his  sixteenth  birthday  .  saint  began  to  get  into  trouble  ,  often  pulled  over  for  speeding  and  reckless  driving  to  impress  his  friends  .  like  always  ,  a  star  is  meant  to  fall  ,  and  it  all  came  crashing  down  for  saint  when  he  thought  that  drag  racing  on  u.s.  route  1  was  a  good  idea  .  he  assumed  that  he  could  lose  the  cops  ,  but  he  was  stupid  for  ever  thinking  so  --  he  totaled  the  $1.3m  dollar  car  ,  and  after  being  treated  for  minor  injuries  ,  he  was  booked  in  the  county  jail  .

            having  rich  parents  seems  to  be  all  fun  and  games  considering  they  were  barely  able  to  get  him  out  with  a  slap  on  the  wrist  ,  but  that  very  same  night  they  sent  him  away  on  a  business  plane  to  live  with  his  no - nonsense  grandparents  .  for  the  first  year  ,  saint  pouted  and  argued  ,  screamed  and  kicked  over  being  trapped  in  seoul  .  he  tried  to  escape  the  fortress  of  a  house  in  pyeongchang  ,  attempted  to  ditch  his  security  guards  when  he  went  out  in  public  ,  but  he  eventually  realized  that  there  was  no  getting  out  of  this  .  so  ,  he  made  the  most  out  of  it  :  he  finished  school  ,  and  during  his  senior  year  with  the  help  of  his  grandparents  ,  saint  opened  goodnight  moon  ,  a  late  night  café  that  appealed  to  college  students  and  late  workers  in  need  of  a  coffee  and  pastry  pick  me  up  .  the  café  went  viral  ,  and  so  did  the  handsome  owner  .

            he  returned  home  when  he  was  twenty  ,  and  discovered  that  key  biscayne  was  filming  .  as  the  resident  who  suddenly  disappeared  ,  saint  was  sought  after  by  the  producers  and  was  introduced  mid - way  through  the  second  season  .  

THE  SHOW  .

saint  and  his  family  were  not  introduced  on  key  biscayne  until  midway  through  season  two  .  he  was  introduced  as  most  table  shakers  would  be  ,  with  a  flurry  of  local  headlines  ranging  from  KEY  BISCAYNE  TEEN  ARRESTED  FOR  DRAG  RACING  and  HOW  MONEY  GETS  YOU  OUT  OF  A  JAIL  SENTENCE  .  his  parents  didn’t  like  the  idea  of  being  on  a  reality  series  ,  so  they  weren’t  featured  although  there  were  a  few  scenes  with  them  .

he  was  the  reality  show  villain  and  you  can’t  tell  me  otherwise  !  showed  up  with  an  air  of  what  the  fUCk  ever  and  despite  the  air  around  him  since  he  was  arrested  and  shipped  back  to  south  korea  ,  he  never  let  that  stop  him  ?  like  ofc  he’s  a  rich  boy  who  got  away  with  something  bc  he’s  rich  ,  but  it’s  not  that  he  doesn’t  acknowledge  it  ,  he  just  chooses  not  to  talk  about  it  .

was  definitely  the  subject  of  show  cliffhangers  ,  probably  nearly  got  kicked  off  the  show  because  of  his  short  temperament  and  despite  all  that  would  still  be  invited  to  the  reunions  because  he  would  always  start  some  shit  .  he  was  very  vocal  about  who  he  didn’t  like  on  the  show  ,  and  probably  had  good  chemistry  with  a  cast  mate  and  fans  of  the  show  always  pushed  for  them  to  become  a  thing  (  a  wc  ...  mayhaps  👀 )  but  they  were  never  anything  more  than  friends  .

by  the  end  of  the  show  ,  saint  was  that  cast  member  that  fans  love  to  hate  .  he  was  employee  of  the  month  ,  and  that’s  on  period  !  gave  what  he  was  supposed  to  gave  and  was  highkey  problematic  (  not  in  a  bad  way  ,  but  in  a  way  where  he  was  always  the  one  in  the  middle  of  some  shit  )  and  when  people  would  question  him  about  it  ofc  he  didn’t  care  KFNDSJBFS  .

THE  PERSONALITY  .

a  little  shit  .  that’s  it  .  that’s  all  you  need  to  know  .  although  he’s  standoffish  ,  still  has  his  insecurities  because  he’s  not  the  ‘  perfect  ’  son  that  his  parents  pushed  for  him  to  be  .  very  much  so  the  black  sheep  of  the  family  ,  and  is  deemed  as  a  lost  cause  by  his  thespian  of  a  mother  ,  so  he  figures  that  he  might  as  well  live  up  to  that  name  .  comes  across  as  someone  who  genuinely  doesn’t  care  ,  and  he  doesn’t  KFDBJSFSD  .  sometimes  only  looks  out  for  himself  which  adds  more  sand  into  the  asshole  bin  ,  and  he  hates  being  asked  ‘  dumb  ’  questions  .  it’s  a  pet  peeve  that  his  mom  thinks  he  picked  up  from  his  father  .

THE  HEADCANONS  .

he  does  not  want  to  be  your  friend  KFNDSFUS  .  he  can  be  very  standoffish  just  to  get  that  point  across  ,  and  he  doesn’t  interact  with  people  outside  of  a  chosen  few  .  

can  be  wildly  off  putting  and  while  someone  else  may  be  afraid  of  confrontation  ,  he  isn’t  !  might  be  the  subject  of  bar  brawls  and  minor  scraps  because  he  genuinely  does  not  know  how  to  shut  the  hell  up  .

hates  walnuts  ;  idk  why  that’s  important  but  it  is  .  serve  him  something  with  walnuts  in  it  and  he’ll  never  talk  to  you  again  .

romantically  and  emotionally  stunted  ,  therefore  he  bides  his  time  with  casual  sex  and  noncommittal  acts  of  romance  .  can  be  found  slipping  out  of  beds  in  the  middle  of  the  night  ,  never  returns  texts  ,  and  at  times  will  pretend  that  he  doesn’t  know  who  the  other  person  is  (  ew  !  )  .

a  chaotic  boy  with  a  heart  of  gold  ,  he  just  doesn’t  show  it  and  has  mastered  the  art  of  being  fake  .  

despite  his  repulsion  of  romance  and  relationships  ,  he’ll  flirt  with  anyone  that  has  a  pair  of  legs  ,  and  he  quite  honestly  might  call  someone  daddy  just  for  the  hell  of  it  KNFDH  . 

probably  posts  those  outfit  thirst  traps  on  instagram  reels  or  tik  tok  bc  he’s  annoying  .

THE  CONNECTIONS  .

an  angsty  ex  boyf  👀 if  i  have  to  BEG  for  it  i  will  !  and  i  promise  to  make  you  cry  xD

a  best  friend  pls  !  someone  who  has  been  friends  with  him  since  before  he  was  shipped  back  to  korea  for  a  few  years  so  when  he  came  back  and  was  on  the  show  ,  they  were  THE  dynamic  duo  .

i’ve  been  really  into  his  plot  but  someone  he  works  out  with  ?  maybe  they  don’t  work  out  together  per  say  ,  but  they’re  somehow  always  at  the  community  gym  at  the  same  time  .

something  soft  ?  something  so  sweet  that  it  would  make  my  teeth  rot  ?  could  either  be  a  boyfriend  or  girlfriend  thing  or  tbh  i  don’t  know  but  i’m  literally  looking  for  something  that’s  all  fluff  and  all  marshmallows  and  if  i  don’t  get  it  then  i’ll  cry  .

a  plot  where  they  full  on  hate  each  other  .  none  of  that  cute  shit  KNFDNFHSD  .  no  lingering  feelings  ,  no  moments  of  hate lapse  --  they  hate  each  other  and  it’s  a  spicy  hate  ship  that  literally  gets  your  blood  pumping  .  

SKINNY  LOVE  ARE  YOU  THERE  ?

his  hoodrat  friends  NFDJNHFBD  i’m  kidding  but  i’m  thinking  like ...  a  billionaire  boys  club  type  of  thing  ?  perhaps  the  five  of  them  get  together  and  ppl  try  to  penetrate  the  group  or  they  have  these  instances   where  ppl  straight  up  hate  them  for  no  reason  ?  they  were  probably  the  TALK  of  the  show  bc  thought  they  were  assholes  KNFDJBFBD  idk  either  way  ,  my  hand  is  out  .  (  1  of  4  spots  filled  )

a  one  night  stand  with  some  substance  ?  like  yeah  ,  they  fuck  around  and  they  have  their  fun  together  but  they  don’t  pretend  to  not  know  each  other  in  public  (  unless  this  person  is  a  thoroughbred  and  i  oop  ,  chile  )  so  they  probs  tend  to  be  a  little  like  confidants  at  times  but  also  have  a  tendency  of  shutting  each  other  up  with  sex  .

[nbhd-daily]

LILY PATTERSON: Where the fuck is Chip Chrome? I noticed you deactivated your Instagram.

JESSE RUTHERFORD: [Laughs] I like that you turned the “who” to “where.”

PATTERSON: Obviously, there’s one glaring reference for an alien rock star alter ego—

RUTHERFORD: Wait, wait, wait, who though?

PATTERSON: … Ziggy Stardust?

RUTHERFORD: I’m just joking.

PATTERSON: [Laughs] Oh my god, I was like, “Did I say that clearly?” But yeah, you’re channeling an icon. Tell me about bringing Chip to life.

RUTHERFORD: I’ve had the idea for Chip for about two and a half years.

PATTERSON: So it’s been baking.

RUTHERFORD: Yeah, I had the name, the whole shit. Obviously, Bowie is a giant reference… Ugh, I hate that word. A giant inspiration. It’s funny; when I was a kid, people would tell me about him, but I wasn’t really interested. I was gravitating toward hip-hop or modern pop. First, I got really into interviews and just watched the man talk. Then the music. I’ve always been an in-between kind of fella. I’m not quite this, I’m not quite that. I’m not super masc, I’m not super feminine … I’m kind of a confused person, to be honest with you. Bowie has helped me route. Like, here you go, this is a blueprint, an architecture. Not to say I sound like him at all.

PATTERSON: You deployed @chipchrome on Instagram, a platform that’s created so much anxiety around being “real,” being consistent, endlessly delivering your personal brand. And now Chip’s off the grid.

RUTHERFORD: I’m trying to figure out myself in all of this. Maybe I’m expected to have already done that, but I haven’t. I feel like I turned into a “thing” on the Internet. When you work on a piece of music for a long time, you post it, and it gets X amount of likes, then you post a picture with your girlfriend and it gets X amount… It’s just a weird, challenging, confusing feeling. I feel like there’s an opportunity to get off the platform, or at least try it this way.

PATTERSON: How many months ago did you debut Chip? August?

RUTHERFORD: Yes. I killed @jesserutherford when I turned 27. Dead at 27.

PATTERSON: A not-so-subtle 27 Club reference.

RUTHERFORD: Exactly. It’s this ridiculous motif. Really, I want to have fun with this stuff, play with it. Like, yo, nobody paints themselves silver, throws on a Spandex suit and a grill. Then, of course, Kanye West comes along…

PATTERSON: [Laughs] Major Basel ‘fit.

RUTHERFORD: Bowie passed and everyone started to think about him again, riff on him. But no one was taking it to the full Ziggy extreme! There’s a Tekashi69 out there but no Ziggy Stardust? C’mon. It feels comfortable for me. I’m having fun.

PATTERSON: Can you describe the physical process to go full Chip? Side note: I saw a picture of that reflective Marine Serre balaclava you scored recently. Insane.

RUTHERFORD: The makeup itself isn’t too long of a process. I’ve always done it myself. Actually, I have a friend of mine who rips at makeup, Sydney, @sydn4sty on Instagram—

PATTERSON: Good friend plug.

RUTHERFORD: She’s bomb. Me and Dev [Devon Carlson, Rutherford’s partner] met her, she was our neighbor at an apartment we lived at a bit ago. She came over, fucked around and helped me with an eye design. For the most part, though, I’ve always done it on my own. We did a tour recently, and I’d usually start an hour before the show, giving myself time to get in the headspace. I could turn into Chip in 25 minutes. It doesn’t take that long.

PATTERSON: What about the suit?

RUTHERFORD: The silver suit is a stupid Spandex suit from the boulevard. I just ended up going into one of those places, figuring out a suit that worked there. Taking measurements and shit, getting the sizing right.

PATTERSON: Love that.

RUTHERFORD: I premiered Chip at a B-level, crusty, Hollywood, kind of spaghetti Western-y place. Which felt right. But as you can see—you referenced the top Dev got for me—there’s so much opportunity for Chip to grow visually. When we [The Neighbourhood] go on tour later this year, I want to develop this. But there’s also something about the campiness, this B-level visual, that I really like. It feels authentic to me.

PATTERSON: All in a time when people are hiring stylists for their hotel-lobby-to-car looks.

RUTHERFORD: [Laughs] Exactly.

PATTERSON: I feel like the DIY, the physical process of putting yourself together imbues a certain energy, a sort of leveling with your audience.

RUTHERFORD: Right. Thanks so much for noticing.

PATTERSON: Is Chip working its way into your solo act? Or do you think you’ll reserve it for The Neighbourhood?

RUTHERFORD: It was gonna be its own thing. I had no intention of bringing Chip into The Neighbourhood. It sounds corny, but the reason I wanted to do Chip for The Neighbourhood is—I don’t know if you’ve heard our song, “Middle of Somewhere.”

PATTERSON: I did. I watched the video.

RUTHERFORD: That song is a special one to me. I wanted to make sure that I could attach something to it that would make people stop, look, and have to listen. We were gonna do a textural video, like B-roll footage, Super 8, nature-y. I wake up in the morning, and I go to the house we’re recording at, in Coldwater Canyon. Before our director Alex got there I was sitting in the house, looking across the canyon over on this hill, and I actually had a vision of the chrome fuckin’ thing on top of the hill. So I showed up the next day in full Chip regalia, and everyone looked at me like, “Oh, no…”

PATTERSON: [Laughs] So that was the first introduction between Chip and The Neighbourhood, when you made it a part of the universe.

RUTHERFORD: It was, yeah. Actually, this producer duo called Take a Daytrip–they did that Sheck Wes song [“Mo Bamba”], “Panini” by Lil Nas X–they’re doing so well. I’ve known them for a long time. They’ve always sent me beat packs and I’ll just go through, pick ten at a time. I thought Chip was going to be leaning more toward my hip-hop shit.

PATTERSON: Yeah, if you’d gone through with Chip as an independent project, how would it sound?

RUTHERFORD: End of 2017, me and my engineer, Danny, were in the studio, going off on Chip. If you ask my friends, they heard about Chip so long ago, they’re like wow, you actually did it! Chip was going to be hip-hop.

PATTERSON: Daytrip almost feels more aligned with this glitchy, chromed-out look than The Neighbourhood. I’m thinking of the “Panini” video, Lil Nas X in the space suit.

RUTHERFORD: Hip-hop music has been my programming. It’s been my love. When I was a kid, hearing Eminem, G-Unit for the first time, I was like… Bro, that is it. I don’t know if you know where I’m from, Newbury Park—

PATTERSON: Ventura County, right?

RUTHERFORD: Yeah, yeah. I was kind of the odd one out, in my neighborhood, my area, obsessed with rap. I decided to stick with the guitar, and I fell in love with it, not having to use so many goddamn words. In fact, I don’t want Chip to talk, because Jesse talks enough. It’s all in the song, that’s where I’m gonna leave it. And “Middle of Somewhere” is a good jumping off point. That’s probably the purest sound you’re gonna hear; it’s just me and a guitar. I’ve been really into Dolly Parton lately—

PATTERSON: She’s having a revival moment with us younger gens!

RUTHERFORD: She’s a great reference for what I’m doing, because Dolly will tell you, “Yeah, I don’t give a fuck if you think I’m fake on the outside, because I am! That’s what I wanna look like. And that’s fine, because I know what’s coming out of me is more real than anything. So I don’t have to worry about that.”

PATTERSON: People are gonna assume they know what Chip’s about; i.e. my questions about the Ziggy comparisons or the visual continuity with Daytrip’s sound. But the far-out visual is paired back to a fairly stripped sound.

RUTHERFORD: Exactly. It’s not what people are expecting. Right now, Chip’s dedicated to The Neighbourhood. The project is gonna be called—there might be a change—but right now it’s called Chip Chrome and the Monotones. The boys, the way we all look together… They’re shadows, they’re silhouettes.

PATTERSON: They’ve got the reflective two-piece suits, right?

RUTHERFORD: For the most part, I’m the only one who has to say something to express what we collectively feel. So if I say something they’re not into, they tell me. I mean, there’s two thousand songs the world won’t hear because we all didn’t agree. It’s working, though. When I first showed up as Chip, everyone was like “what the fuck are you doing?” Now that we’ve worked on the context, everyone’s down.

PATTERSON: Final question, easily the lamest. Will Jesse/Chip find their way back to Instagram?

RUTHERFORD: I guess I’ll say I don’t know. I’m only a couple weeks off.

PATTERSON: How’s it feeling?

RUTHERFORD: I mean, you know… I’m going through it a bit.

PATTERSON: It’s a hell of a drug. You ingest it, but it can also completely consume you.

RUTHERFORD: Comparing myself to everything, everyone, everybody I love… You can’t look at humans like that. I don’t want to think about what everyone else is doing. I feel my creativity pumping back up again. I mean, I have the queen of social media sleeping in the bed next to me. And it’s the coolest thing ever, the way Devon does it? That’s the way you gotta do it. Not work for it, but make it work for you. And that’s cool, that’s her thing, it doesn’t have to be my thing. Luckily, if I do want to come back…

PATTERSON: It’s all gonna be there.

RUTHERFORD: The weirdest twist to it all—which I love, which is wonderful—is that I get off of it, and a week later I get an email that Lily from Interview fuckin’ Magazine… I mean, it’s Interview Magazine! If that isn’t a sign to pay attention, then I’m an asshole and I need to recalibrate my vision.

[loonyoz]

You know I love punching racists as much as the next guy, but what I don't love is when that makes a “white savior”. I am by far not the most informed person when it comes to activism and social justice, but as someone with a love of storytelling it is something that has caught my attention. I would love to hear other peoples takes on this. Below I’ll list stuff about the Doctor Who episode on Rosa Parks but first I’ll put some links from TV Tropes.org for descriptions of the trope terminology I use. I might post more about this in another post bc this post is getting long.

White Savior: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MightyWhitey

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/WhiteMansBurden

Tokens: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TokenIndex

Award for Decency: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/WantsAPrizeForBasicDecency

Special Episode: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/VerySpecialEpisode

Doctor Who, Rosa (Season 11, episode 3)

Good things:

DW finally makes black history the main topic of an episode

They represent Rosa Parks, an empowering female POC

They acknowledge the difficulties and oppression of POC back then

Doctor Who has an impact on a large audience, this makes the importance of this episode increase because it can introduce to or inform the younger generations of a couple different aspects of Black history.

It is in classic doctor who style simplicity. Clear villain, clear good guys, clear threat, clear solution, clear ending. Its very reasuring to watch something where it can be so simple. Like in s10e03 when someones being a racist asshole to Bill (Pearl Mackie), the 12th doctor (Peter Capaldi) punches him.

Iffy things:

The simplicity is not accurate to the complexity of the real worlds problems. A black and white ideology (by with I mean a polarized alignment chart) in a story has its benefits and its negatives. If someone is ignorant and says something insensitive, its not okay, but it doesn't make them Big Bad Evil. People had a rough life then, people also have a rough life now. Victims can be strong and stand up for themselves, just as much as they need other strong people to help them.

The main character of the show, the Doctor (Jodie Whittaker)  is white, so even though she is not the hero with the main focus for the episode, as the main character, she’s still the designated hero figure. Where as Yaz (Mandip Gill) and Ryan (Tosin Cole) are companions and Rosa Parks (Vinette Robinson) only star in the one episode.

If all of the main characters weren't there (the Doctor, Yaz, Graham, Ryan), then Rosa Parks important moment on the bus wouldn't happen. Its Rosa Parks who makes the stand, and the diverse group of main characters work together it make it possible. Thats great, but ALL of the characters had to be on the bus, meaning the Doctor and Graham (Bradley Walsh) were not only important, but necessary for the black civil rights movement. That is the piece of this sort of unintentional insertion of white people into an episode of black empowerment that bothers me. Of course everyone should work together towards equality no matter race or ethnicity, but activism isn't just about stopping segregation and hate crimes, its also about how we portray different demographics in media and story telling that can have a huge effect on society.

The micro-aggressions of social interactions and social construction. One misstep in a media portrayal may not be a big deal, but it adds up. One story were a white person saves a black person isn't bad, its the ratio and the way in which the saving happens. Obviously creative content cannot abide by a ratio in order to provide equality and respect, but I think it is something often overlooked. It is the unexplained need for the insertion of white people in black narratives and it is incessant. Which is ironic, as I am white, and writing about a black narrative.

It is the only DW episode so far that focuses on Black history and racism, see the link I pasted above on the “Very Special Episode Trope”. Nothing wrong with that, but I don't like the idea that they can make one episode on this topic, get a pat on the back, and move on. Like “getting an award for decency” or “tokenism”. I actually think they did a pretty good job on avoiding tokenism with this episode, as it felt genuine and characteristic to Doctor Who. They do need to keep trying to portray black history, and I hope to see it go well.

I hope to hear responses from anyone! Don't feel like you have to read everything! Id be equal parts shocked and flattered if you did read it all. These are my musings on the episode, not set in stone opinions, id love to hear other people think! My one request is that you stay respectful as possible, and If I or other people say things that are hurtful, let me know bc I like to improve and communicate, and I don't like hurting people!