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lubdubsworld · 3 years ago

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物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Alpha Jungkook x Omega Oc!

Genre : Angst , Hurt/ Comfort.

Chapter 1 ⋆ Chapter 2 ⋆ Chapter 3 Chapter 4 ⋆ Chapter 5 ⋆

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Summary : Nine months after her marriage ends, Kim Heejin is a reclusive artist, who works out of a renovated warehouse in Busan, her days and nights spent with canvas and paint. Its exactly what she’s ever wanted, to be left alone. And yet, that nagging feeling of incompletion keeps her on her toes. And perhaps, it is that longing for something substantial, something real that pushes her to give her flawed but lovable ex-husband another chance.

Chapter 9

“I… No. Just… please tell him I’ll be down…I’ll come down to the lobby to meet him.” I said quickly, panicking at the idea of having him here. I’d barely been here a day but this was still my space. And if I had him here then his scent would just seep into every nook and corner.

The room would smell like him then… And what would I do after he left?

God, what was I even thinking? Head swimming, I crawled to the edge of the bed and breathed shakily.

It felt surreal, climbing out of the bed and moving to the vanity . I stared at myself in the mirror as I grabbed the makeup bag I kept with me all the time. Wide eyes and parted lips, creamy gold skin turning lily white because of how the blood had just drained after that phone call.

I looked petrified .

Jungkook… I thought numbly. Jungkook’s waiting downstairs and I’m going to see him.

What is he thinking.... What is he feeling... why is he even here?

You’re not responsible for his emotions, Taehyung’s soothing voice in my head helped a bit but not a whole lot. What about my emotions, I though desperately, grabbing the tube of gloss and slowly uncapping it. I ran the end of it over my lips and felt my fingers tremble because I didn’t know why I felt this need …to look beautiful.

I didn’t need to, I though miserably. Everyone knew omegas were beautiful. Beta supermodels were beautiful yes but they couldn’t hold a candle to me, at least for someone like Jungkook. He was an alpha, his brain was built to find me attractive. I had evolutionary genetics on my side, which mean that if I ever actually wanted to seduce Jungkook , he wouldn’t really stand a chance .

But I didn’t want that.

I had had enough of that. Enough of seeing handsome, rich alphas being reluctantly attracted to me. They made it obvious too. Most of the hate mail I got stemmed from angry wives or girlfriends accusing me of seducing their men , even though I’d never so much as laid my eyes on them. It was so unfair.

I didn’t enjoy watching them lose their minds at the sight and scent of me, because i knew that deep down, they thought that all omegas were scum.

Manipulative, sex driven , greedy and selfish . Those were the labels I got plastered with , on the media and on the streets.

And Jungkook wasn’t different, I reminded myself firmly, pulling away from the mirror and grabbing the loose powder and dusting down some of it on the apple of my cheeks and down the length of my nose.

He didn’t think any different than the others. Jungkook’s views on omegas were just as archaic and bigoted as everyone else’s .

He just didn’t act on them .

Sighing, I dropped the lipgloss back in the back and brushed my hair off my face. On a whim , I pulled off the hair tie holding the thick strands together, letting the wavy tresses fall over my shoulder. I hadn’t cut my hair in a long time and it felt to my hips now. My stylist was adamant that it added to my aesthetic.

A primal siren, she had said staring at me in awe, like something eternal and beautifully dangerous. We’re lucky you seem incapable of hate, Heejin ...because I think you could bring grown men to their knees with that body and that face.

I felt nauseous at the thought of it.

Walking to the elevator felt like walking the plank and I had stop a couple of times, just to breathe deeply. I had to be smart about this. I was in therapy. Taehyung had taught me how to handle situations like this and while my heart was pounding too hard and my brain was too scrambled to use any of his therapy techniques, I still had some of my cognitive abilities intact.

He came here, i thought desperately.

He came looking for you and that means he isn’t nervous or worried or overthinking this because he doesn’t have feelings for you. If you want to come out of this unscathed, you need to get your head on straight. You need to pretend that you didn’t just have a minor mental breakdown at the thought of him dating someone else.

I took a deep breath, exhaling sharply before stepping into the elevator. The ride down to the lobby was barely a few seconds and when I stepped out, I realized the place was way too crowded for such an exclusive Hotel. And then I remembered that people were here for the Art Festival. I glanced at the reception desk, covertly, noting a conspicuous lack of Jeon Jungkook. The lady behind the desk held her hand up when she spotted me .

“Ms. Kim? Mr. Jeon just went to get you a drink...He’s over by the breakfast counter over there.” She pointed out the dining space where people were walking about getting breakfast and I swallowed, feeling hot and cold as I cautiously stepped into the crowd, trying to find a that familiar head of thick dark hair.

I felt the apprehension build as I tugged on my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to reign in the chaos in my mind but it was impossible, everything too loud and too messy. I looked around and then, it hit me.

His scent.

I felt my lips part in surprise, and it felt like someone had turned the volume down , noises fading into a dull hum at the back of my mind as I stared at him. He hadn’t spotted me yet and I took a second to just....look.

He looked incredible.

There was really no other word for it. Incredibly handsome, Incredibly beautiful and so incredibly perfect as the late morning sun lit up the room, picking out the shine on his white silk shirt. I breathed in deep, my mindeasily picking out the musky pine scent of him and I stepped closer, moving straight towards him and I caught the exact moment my scent his senses.

He jerked a bit, nostrils flaring and eyes going wide before he turned, lips parted and gaze a bit unfocused as he looked around.

When he caught sight of me, he just blinked.

I smiled weakly, body going limp with relief because.... because this was Jungkook. Not some monster I had to run from. This was Jungkook....even at his worst he had been better than some of the other people I’d met in life.

I looked down at the drink in his hand and smiled a bit as he made his way over.

“ This isn’t the same as buying me a coffee.” I said shakily as he finally stepped upto me.

His eyes danced with warmth.

“What makes you think I can afford one? Besides, aren’t you the hotshot artist? Shouldn’t you be the one buying me stuff?” He said softly.

“Just saw you on the front cover of a magazine. We both know you’re far from destitute..” Even through the smile, I felt the tug of emotion as I stared at him, felt the difference in him like night and day, the light and joy and ...contentment that seemed to radiate off him .

He smiled and held the drink out to me gently.

“ Heejin-ah.” He whispered.

And somehow it was the sound of his voice, wrapping around the syllables of my name that finally did it.

I felt the tears brim over, my lips parting in choked laughter as I stepped close and wrapped both my arms around him, burying my face in his neck and breathing him in. I felt him hold me, infinitely gentle and I exhaled sharply.

“I didn’t miss you, at all.” I said shakily. He laughed lightly.

“I missed you , too.” He stroked the back of my head gently and I sighed, fingers curling on the silk of his shirt. The fabric felt like liquid in my fingers and I played with it for a second, intensely aware that people were starting to stare. That this embrace had gone on for longer than social norms dictated but I couldn’t bring myself to care, letting my chin rest against his shoulder blades.

And it was almost frightening.....how easy it was to pretend we weren’t broken at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She was so small when I last held her... I can’t believe she’s running around.” I said, awed, listening to Jungkook tell me about how Mina liked to climb everywhere. He laughed, shaking his head.

"She’s growing bigger everyday. I can barely keep up.” Jungkook smiled, holding a hand out for me to step over the wooden slats that lined the tiny archway that led to the door to his building. I hesitated before lightly gripping his hand in mine, the gesture somehow feeling more intimate that it was.

“You’re not staying at the Firenze?” I asked curiously, resisting the urge to reach for his hand again when he let go.

it was such a ridiculous thing but I’d never held hands with him. And It felt ridiculously nice, to slot my fingers with his, feel them in between mine. His palm against mine, calloused but somehow so comforting.

I’d forgotten how warm he was.

Don’t. Don’t fall down this rabbit hole again, Heejin. We talked about this. He doesn’t think of you that way. He doesn’t. And neither should you. its unfair to him. He doesn’t deserve that.

“No... As you can see my apartment is barely ten minutes away and Soeun has her exams so its easier for her to watch over Mina here at the apartment.

“Soeun?” I asked curiously.

“Park Soeun? She’s a University student who lives with me. She’s doing a correspondence course in fashion . So she’s home all the time and she helps out with Mina. And she speaks Italian so that’s a huge plus... ” He smiled. “ you’ll like her. She’s a good kid.”

Don’t make that face. Don’t fucking make that face, Heejin.

I struggled to keep my face straight , like I wasn’t feeling the weight of a dozen bricks at the base of my stomach.

“A roommate...then..?” I asked quietly and he shrugged.

“Something like that. But mostly she helps take care of Mina when I’m out on an assignment.” He smiled and led me past two flight of stairs up to the studio apartment.

I wrapped my arms around myself as he stopped in front of a wrought iron grill, gripping one end and sliding it open with ease. And then he rang the small bell n the side. I shuffled back and forth on my foot, heart racing.

The door opened and I blinked because of how young the girl who opened the door was. A second later she was beaming, moving forward and wrapping both her arms around me.

“Unnie!” She squealed, hugging me so close that I almost choked. Completely thrown I could only gape at Jungkook who was laughing .

“Oh, I forgot to mention..she’s a bit of a fan. “ He teased lightly and I smiled awkwardly, watching as she pulled back to stare at me, her gaze trained on my face unblinkingly.

“Whoa...” She reached out and lightly touched my cheek with her forefinger making me jump. She flinched as well, flushing red.

“Shit..sorry...I just... I’ve never... I’ve never met an omega before.” She said softly. “ You’re absolutely breathtaking.”

I felt my heart pound, steeping back instinctively, an overwhelming urge to hide , anxiety pooling in my stomach as she continued to stare at me. I hated the attention and I wrapped my arms around myself.

“Soeun, enough. Don’t make it weird.” Jungkook said sternly, voice hard and the girl immediately flushed, bowing apologetically.

“Sorry...I.. sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable ... You’re pretty.” She said again before turning to Jungkook.

“I have to get some stuff for my exhibit, Jungkook oppa... Mina’s asleep. i’ll be staying over at Vince’s place for the night though. Is that okay?”

“Sure..have fun.” Jungkook smiled, “ Vince is her boyfriend.” He explained and Soeun nodded happily.

“Italian men are absolutely amazing unnie...you should try some.” She winked and I laughed despite myself.

“I just might...” I said with a grin, watching as she walked over to slip on a pair of sneakers from the small shoe closet near the door. She waved enthusiastically all but bouncing away and I blinked at him , shaking my head.

“I feel a hundred years old right now.” I said softly, still stunned by the girl’s exorbitant energy. Jungkook laughed at that

“She definitely has that effect on people... Come on, I’ll show you around.” He held his hand out and I smiled , taking his fingers mine and letting him tug me further into the studio apartment.

I looked around, taking in the full blown prints of Mina and Jungkook , caught in adorable poses in front of different tourist spots in Florence. I saw how much she looked like Jungkook now, and how openly affectionate they looked together, the love evident even in the still photos.

And then my eyes fell on a familiar painting , my stomach lurching.

“You... “ i turned to him in a rush and he was staring at me with a small smile.

“I had to bring that. It pretty much saved me, that painting.” He said casually, stepping close and running his fingers all over the print.

“When you told me this is how Sooah saw me...” He traced the picture carefully before glancing at me,” it made me realize that Sooah didn’t just want a baby.....she wanted a baby with me. She saw me as a father. As someone who could raise and nurture a tiny human and that... that’s amazing isn’t it?” He sighed, staring at me.

He looked beautiful, I thought with an ache deep inside me. The most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life and it seemed almost too good to be true. That he was here, at reach. So close. I wondered if this was it. This had to be a sign. A sign that we’d come full circle. That it was over. That we could finally break free from all that we’d been through, and look back at Jungkook’s past with fondness instead of pain.

And perhaps, just perhaps I could reach out and touch him with something more than just the love you have for a friend. . Perhaps I could reach out and touch him, without feeling guilt and foreboding.

I exhaled shakily stepping up and running my fingers over the canvas. It was nothing fancy... Just a painting a painting of Jungkook holding Mina up by her waist, high over his head, staring up into her face with all the love and adoration in the world, The child in the painting doesn’t look exactly like Mina, of course, but I’d had no idea , seeing as Sooah had commissioned the painting when she was pregnant. But Jungkook.... Jungkook looked exactly like he did now : Happy and at peace.

“You’re alright, then?” I asked quietly , a wealth of meaning behind the words and he smiled , nodding gently.

“I’m fine…” He whispered , “ And I’m so glad I can tell you that, like this. Thank you for coming , Heejin-ah . I know you owe me nothing but.. I wanted to show you that… it wasn’t all bad you know. What we went through… Something good did come out of it.” He whispered.

I choked out a sob.

“I lied.” I whispered. “ I did miss you. Even when I knew I shouldn’t.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened.

“I have a lot to be sorry for. But I don’t want to remind you of those things. I just want you to know that… I understand what you went through…those six months. I understand that it was difficult and painful and i… I’m grateful that you didn’t give up on me. And I’m grateful that you stayed in my life. Because I know I didn’t deserve that.”

“You deserve to be loved Jungkook.” I said quietly. “ Its not wrong to move on. You deserve to… find happiness again.”

He stared at me, his gaze soft and gentle.

“I can almost believe it, when you say it that way.” He laughed. “ And… you know… I’m not sure if its love. But there’s someone I’ve been…. Well, I can sort of see myself with her. .” He grinned a little, smile boyish as he ran his fingers through his hair. He glanced at me and I felt my heart skip a beat.

Wait… was he going to?....

“ I met her at Taehyung’s practice, a year ago. Her name is Lee Hyorin.” Jungkook looked at me, doe eyes shining with excitement.

And just like that the world ended.

Or so it felt.

It was like being dipped in icy cold water, the shock of it rendering me speechless, lips parted and breath catching in lungs.

Blood rushed through my ears, so fast that I felt lightheaded, my legs nearly giving out. White noise filled my skull, pain lancing sharp through my heart like a thousand paper cuts, and I couldn’t really breathe. It took a few seconds…. For my heart to catch up with what my mind had just processed. And when it finally did, the pain was so excruciating, I had to clench my fists, nails digging into the flesh of my palm to ground myself.

“She’s an alpha…and she lost her husband around the same time Sooah passed..” Jungkook gave me a soft smile. “ She’s actually a curator at one of the museums here. She’s the one who made all the arrangements for me to move here to Florence. ”

“Wow… That’s…” devastating,. “ That’s good news. Jungkook.. I.. How long…” My voice cracked, and I had to swallow. “ How long have you guys been dating?”

“About three months now. We’re taking it very slow, because we aren’t really ready. She has a son too. He’s three years old. Mina loves him so that’s a plus.” He laughed.

My lungs constricted, breathing difficult and my head swam because ….. what. Realization set in so quickly, I was left reeling. I was in love with this bastard, I thought miserably. So in love with him that it felt like he was shredding my heart into ribbons. Every word of his mouth felt like a sharp deep stab, straight through the center of my heart and the pulsing, beating organ was on the verge of giving out.

“She’s going to be there at the dinner tonight at the Festival. She’s one of the organizers by the way. She’s kind of the reason I got in, I think.” He laughed , looking abashed and what a load of bull that was. Jungkook was successful and well known. Superbly talented at his chosen field. She was lucky to have him.

How can she have him when I’m the one who fixed him? How is that fucking fair?

“She really understands the things I’ve been going through, the past few months and because we both still attend therapy with Taehyung, we’re able to talk about a lot of stuff. Stuff I can’t share with others…” Jungkook was saying and I tuned him out, not wanting to hear another word.

I swallowed, choking on bile. I could feel sweat gathering on my scalp, my skin clammy and damp , the air between us shifting into something poisonous and filled with so much dismay, it was a miracle he hadn’t picked up on it.

Couldn’t he sense how distressed I was? Couldn’t he see how his words were hurting? Couldn’t he fucking see that I couldn’t live without him? Why on earth couldn’t he see me the way he apparently saw every other woman on the damn planet…..

Because he’s a shitty Alpha, I thought miserably, willing myself not to burst into tears. He was a shitty excuse for an alpha back then and he’s the same now.

A low, distressed cry began somewhere behind him and he jumped.

“Oh, shit she’s up… come on, Heejin.” He said with a bright smile, turning around and rushing down a small hallway and I willed myself to breathe in deeply, reminding myself that this wasn’t the end of the world. I could get through this. Besides, it was Mina.

Beautiful, perfect Mina who had been there for me. She would see me and she would give me that sweet gummy smile of hers, does eyes twinkling and I would get through this. Because her smile was what was important. Her smile and her joy and her happiness.

The sobbing had slowed down to small hiccups and I stepped past the threshold cautiously, watching as Jungkook bent over the large crib, carefully lifting her out and into his arms. She looked breathtaking, an absolutely gorgeous little girl . I stared, mesmerized as I stepped closer. My arms ached, and my chest tightened. Lips wobbling, I exhaled sharply, moving to reach for her.

She turned to glance at me and just as my fingers brushed her cheek, she recoiled.

Hard.

A loud wail tore through her tiny body and I felt my eyes go wide. Her casual little cry had turned into a sobbing , loud wail and I could smell the distress in her , the fear and distrust as she curled away from me. Jungkook looked stunned as well, instinctively drawing her close and embracing her, moving away from me because….

Because I was the reason, she was distressed.

My skin went ice cold at the revelation and I stumbled back, stunned.

“I… I’m sorry.” I choked out, confused and disoriented. Jungkook looked stricken, gently rocking her back and forth and she clung to him, gripping his shirt and I bit my lips, moving further back and I glanced at him, my heart shattering.

“She’s …She’s still sleepy… She doesn’t do well with strangers…” He said softly, looking upset, “ Maybe you could…wait outside…”

Stranger…. Was that what I was?

“I… I’ll go. I’ll just go.” I turned on my heel, rushing out of the door and struggling to breathe in air, my heart clenching so hard I was sure I was going to pass out. I felt my knees give out when I reached the couch, dropping down and drawing my knees up , wrapping my arms around my legs . I didn’t know how long I sat there, fighting sobs and choking on air…and when I finally came to myself, the sobs from the room had died out.

“She’s fallen asleep again.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the silence and I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I felt him move closer, felt his scent hit me as he stepped right up to me, kneeling on the floor in front of me.

I looked up at him, lips wobbling as I took in his handsome face. A face that was so deeply carved into my heart and my soul, I couldn’t imagine living without it. Without him. The tears came then, helpless and endless and so painful.

He pressed in closer, cupping my face in his palms, thumb brushing the tears that spilled over so relentlessly.

“Heejin…” He whispered and I let my fingers curl around his wrist as his thumb kept brushing the curve of my cheeks. I took a deep , shaky breath .

“She doesn’t remember me…. “ I whispered, “ She doesn’t recognize me at all…She hates me……” I choked out , despair filling every last crevice of my insides, gut twisting as I remembered how Mina had twisted away from me, how her scent had soured in distress at the sight of me, at the touch of my fingers.

And I wondered if it was different with this other woman..Hyorin, wasn’t it? Did Mina climb into her arms with ease? Did she curl into her chest and sleep? The way she used to with me, when she was a month old and missing the warmth of a mother.. ….

All those nights spent in that tiny nursery, lying on the cold unforgiving floor, watching the rise and fall of Mina’s chest through the dark room…telling myself it was worth it… it was worth being touched against my will, worth being treated like filth by a man driven mad with grief and anger….all because of this baby…this tiny little baby who had needed me….

And now…she didn’t even know who I was…..worse…she was repulsed by the very sight of me… I couldn’t cope.

“Look at me…” Jungkook rasped, voice raw and cracking. “she doesn’t hate you, Heejin… she just … you feel new to her… different…”

I shook my head, unable to think about anything beyond the sheer devastation that filled me, the way his daughter had pulled away and run, had refused to come anywhere near me. I realized with lancing pain that I’d wanted to see her, way more than I’d wanted to see Jungkook .

Because she was the reason I’d hung on for so long in that marriage which had been the biggest fucking mistake of my life…. the only reason I’d stuck around . Mina …Having her in my arms, her scent against my face, that had been the only genuine happiness I’d experienced in a marriage filled with sheer , unending misery.

“I… she… Why doesn’t she remember? “ I breathed, sagging into his arms, tears soaking his shoulders and his palm ran up and down my back.

“Because she was a baby. Heejin…. I left when she was a baby…”

“Why did you?” I snapped. “ Did it hurt you so much? The thought of living under the same sky as me ? Why you did you go?” I demanded.

Jungkook pulled back, hands coming up to grip my shoulder, holding me at arms length.

“Look at me.” He whispered. “ I had to … You know I had to go….I was hurting you. I was… I was draining you of life. Destroying you… “

Jungkook’s words reminded me of who he was. Of who I was… Of who I was to him.

I choked out, sobbing.

“I hate you. You treated me like scum. Like a crutch….. Like some sort of tool to get better and you just left… you…”

You found someone better. You broke me down and now you’ve gone and found someone better….because I was never good enough for you… I was never someone you could love….

“I had to let you go. I had to end that relationship because it was tainted with so much grief and anger and selfishness and greed. I knew that anything I did afterwards would be tainted by my actions… I… I had to make amends, Heejin. And do you think for a second, that it wasn’t the hardest thing I ever did? That walking out on you wasn’t one of the most devastating things I’ve ever experienced? But I did it for us… for this…”

I stared at him.

“And what is this?” I asked brokenly.

“This is me, being able to touch you like this.” Jungkook pressed a palm to my cheek, “ And not feeling guilt or sadness or grief or loss. I did it so we could have this…this… This thing where I can look at you and hold you and see that you’re healing. That you’re doing better… That you’re living the life you want…. That you’re happy. This is me standing here , in front of you and smiling because I’m happy too. Happy that you’re here. ” He exhaled, “ I’m happy that despite all the hurt we’ve been through for and because of each other, I can look at you now and tell you, honestly, that I’m glad to see you.”

What a joke.. What a fucking joke.

I smiled shakily.

“Well… “ I said softly, my stomach churning because I was done. Done with him and mostly with myself. “ Isn’t that absolutely wonderful.”

His gaze softened and he smiled.

“I want us to be friends, Heejinah. Even though we don’t see or talk to each other, I think of you often. And when Mina’s old enough to understand , I’ll tell her all about you… I want you in our lives. You’re a friend. ”

I stared at him , feeling the words echo in my skull . It left an acrid taste on my senses, the way he put me into this neat little box, friend. So ….insignificant. Everyone had hundreds of friends. There was nothing even remotely special about being someone’s friend.

Friend just meant replaceable and forgettable. And just like Mina didn’t remember me…. Someday Jungkook wouldn’t either. The knowledge filled my veins spreading all over my body and leaving a fierce, heavy ache in my chest.

It was my fault, I thought despondently. My fault because I had been an idiot.

Jungkook was the sane one here , I thought miserably. These nine months, while I’d been dwelling on him and worrying for him…he had done the healthy thing , by moving on with someone he could actually envision a future with….

What had I done, these past nine months? Dreamt up a fantasy world where somehow we found our way back to each other and built a life together… It seemed so foolish now, in the light of Jungkook’s words and his confession….

Jungkook had done all of this, not for me…but for himself. For his daughter whom he loved and for his wife , whose memory he wanted to honor. And perhaps it was my own delusion that made me think that I’d played some stellar role in his healing…. Maybe if I hadn’t been there, he would have gotten better just the same…. Maybe I hadn’t been a tool …as much as a hindrance …to his healing.

I shook my head, bitterness coating my tongue.

“I should get going.” I whispered , voice shaking.

This is it, I told myself. This is the last time you look at him with that heaviness in your heart. You deserve better. You deserve… a lot of things. And just because people don’t give it to you doesn’t mean you have to settle for less……

“So soon? Hyorin will be back in a couple of hours… I could show you some of my work, and we could get lunch ….”

I shook my head quickly. I didn’t want to meet her in his home. Didn’t want to see him being domestic and affectionate and …normal with her when all I’d ever seen was Jungkook in his anger and grief, either yelling abuses or gripping me with a lust that was tainted with violence and rage. I stared at his hands, the ones I’d liked holding….

How did I forget? That those were the same hands that had held me down and done things that should, rightfully have landed him in prison?

I shook my head, to clear the images out of my head. Looking at him now, Jungkook looked eager, happy and healed. And I realized that he’d just pushed all of his own actions out of his mind. Forgotten all about it. And that was fair. He probably didn’t even remember any of it. He had been drunk out of his mind, lost in his head and surely, forgetting must’ve been easy… A relief.

I didn’t begrudge him that.

But…

I hadn’t been drunk. I’d been stone cold sober under him on that bed and so, maybe forgetting didn’t come that easily for me. And I was glad that Jungkook could move on and be happy but….

But I couldn’t stay here and pretend that it was the same for me. I wasn’t happy or healed, I thought miserably. And maybe , maybe the sight of him moving on was a sign that I had to stop thinking that healing meant going back to him and his daughter.

“Heejin… What’s wrong? Is it because of Mina.. she’s just not used to…” He began but I quickly pressed a palm to his chest, smiling.

“Strangers.” I said softly. “ I know. That’s not it… You know I have to introduce my exhibit at dinner tonight. I don’t know what the itinerary is or what I’m supposed to say…. None of it.. I need to meet my agent and prep myself a bit. Its alright…I’ll see you tonight.” I said softly.

“I’m sorry… I can’t walk you back because Mina-“

“Of course. Don’t worry about it…. I’ll just…”

The doorbell rang, startling me.

“Jungkook!” A strong voice called out and I went still.

“Hyorin?” Jungkook’s face lit up and I felt my stomach churn. God, the universe really was against me wasn’t it? Sighing in defeat, I wrapped my arms around myself, sitting back down on the couch and waiting.

Behind me , I could hear hushed whispers, soft laughter and shuffling feet. My mouth went dry.

“Ms. Kim….”

I turned around, greeted by the sight of a tall, strapping young woman, pretty by any standards. She was dressed in a pant suit , her hair long and straight, hitting the top of her shoulders. She looked smart… Important.

“Ms. Lee… Its nice to meet you.”

She held her hand out and I shook it gently. Jungkook smiled at her fondly and his phone rang from somewhere inside the studio.

“Hang on that’s probably Soeun…” He smiled at me and moved away and I watched him leave before shifting my gaze to Hyorin, who was staring down at me with a small smile.

“Are you here in Italy by yourself? Or with one of your many …uh… patrons ?” She smirked.

I blinked.

“Patrons?” I asked softly. “ Excuse me?”

“Jungkook and I’ve been following all the stories about you, back in Korea. You get around quite a lot… don’t you? Every alpha within a 100 mile radius wants a piece of the lovely Kim Heejin… And honestly, could anyone blame them? You look exquisite.”

I stared at her, stunned. The implication was so obvious that I would be an idiot not to realize what she was hinting at. So this was the woman , Jungkook chose? Yet another prejudiced bigot?

I laughed a bit, feeling my heart sink.

“I’m not seeing anyone. If that’s what you’re asking.” I said quietly.

Hyorin smirked at that.

“Of course you aren’t… We all know that isn’t really something your kind does… monogamy, right?”

“Do you have a problem with me Hyorin ssi?” I asked roughly and she laughed.

“Oh come on.. we’re all adults, here. And Heejin, you agreed to be a part of this festival, knowing full well, that’s what we think . Its because deep down you know I’m right….. Omegas can’t stay with one alpha. They need sex to survive and they are usually open to it with anyone. Not that I’m blaming you or judging you for it. It’s just how you’re built.”

I smiled wide, ignoring the urge to claw at her face. .

“Well, you’ve definitely got me all figured out haven’t you? “ I shook my head, glancing at Jungkook who was making his way over.

“What are you talking about?” He asked curiously and I smiled, glancing at her.

“ Hyorin ssi was just telling me how my sub gender makes it impossible for me to not go around whoring with every alpha I see…….” I glanced at him and Jungkook straightened, looking stunned, “ Well, I hope you two enjoy your beautiful monogamous relationship with each other something an omega like me can only fantasize about…. Right Jungkook?” I smiled and he looked completely lost.

“Wait…What? Hyorin what did you say?” He demanded and she was glaring at me now.

“Please don’t take it personally, I was only talking about omegas in general. “ Hyorin frowned, before bowing and moving away to stalk off in the direction of the bedrooms and I watched her, feeling dirty and terrible.

“Heejin, ignore her.. she’s just old fashioned and-“

“Is that what you’re going to call it?” I snapped and Jungkook froze.

“Heejin…”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“I’m not upset about what she said. I’m upset that she feels comfortable enough, spouting that bullshit to me , in your house. Makes me wonder what else she’s told you about omegas, and how much of it you probably agreed with.”

Jungkook stared at me , lips parted.

“I… I don’t feel that way. You know that.” He said stiltedly.

“Do I? All I know is that she knows about me, about who I am and apparently, she can call me a slut…. In front of you, without worrying about it upsetting you. And that tells me you’re as much of a bigot as she is.”

“Heejin… You know that’s not it. We all grow up being fed certain things and –“

“But you did grow up right?” I snapped. “ you grew up and you can think and act for yourself. As can she. Once you’re an adult, you don’t have a single fucking excuse for being racist or homophobic or bigoted because being an adult means having the ability to unlearn the toxic things you’ve been taught and relearn how to be a decent fucking human.”

I shook my head as he stared at me.

“And you know what…please just… just don’t call me or consider me as a friend.” I laughed. “ Because I don’t think I can consider you one. Not anymore. You can’t…...You can’t just love certain parts of me and be disgusted by others you know? I don’t need a friend who can care about me and love me and help me as long as he can forget that I’m an omega….. I need a friend who can love every jagged, broken , part of me. Who can call out people who talk bullshit at me , who can look someone in the eye and tell them they’re wrong when they’re calling me names and that’s not who you are……. You’re not it.” I snapped.

Jungkook looked stricken, reaching out to hold me and I stepped away, annoyed.

“I’m sorry, Heejin, you’re right … I’ll talk to her… I’ll…” He began but I shook my head.

“Whatever. Just don’t call me a friend. We can’t be friends. Let’s just be what we always were , yeah? A big fucking mistake that never should have happened.”

I stormed out of the door, shaking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean, there are no flights available for today?” I snapped. “Tell them money isn’t an issue. I need to get out of this place right now.”

Minho looked incredibly stricken, hair messy from how often he’d run his fingers through.

“ We just arrived seven hours ago, Hee. Of course there’s no flight yet…. We can stay another day…attend the dinner and-“

“No.” I snapped. “ Absolutely not. I’m not here because they find my art good or worth putting up. I’m here because they know the alphas around here will want to pay more , to pour in more cash for a chance with me.” I held the embossed booklet up, waving it in his face.

“Heejin…” He protested but I shook my head.

“ Did you see the cost to get into my pane ?. Extra ….for alphas? And yet…apparently they had to pre book it and its filled? You think any of the lecherous bastards who paid money to see me , gives a shit about my art? And apparently, there’s a meet and greet, for alphas only if they purchase seven or more paintings worth over 10000 Euros. Do you think, that’s what I’m worth?”

Minho looked down at his shoes, ashamed.

“I .. I’m sorry, Hee. You’re right. Its offensive . And an insult to your art and talent. We shouldn’t have come here, you’re right. And I regret it… But just… give me a few hours, yeah? I’ll find a way to get us out of here….”

I exhaled sharply, exhaustion weighing heavy on my head. I felt like I’d taken a pounding, physically and mentally and I wondered how a day that had started so well, could go so wrong, so fast…

Shaking my head, I trudged wearily to the elevator, knocking on the buttons before sagging against the wall, letting my eyes flutter shut.

Jungkook was dating.

Jungkook was dating. His girlfriend thought I was a slut and here I was about to prove her right.

I wanted to slit someone’s throat.

Sighing, I watched the door slide open, grabbing my keys out of my bag, and moving to the suite. I opened the door before making a beeline for the bed. I collapsed on the soft duvet, groaning. I was torn between wanting to call Taehyung to yell at him about Jungkook and calling Minho to demand an update on the flights.

I was spared the dilemma when the phone in the room rang. Groaning, I moved to swat at the phone, turning on the speaker.

“Ms. Kim? There’s a Mr. Jeon here to see you?”

I blinked, feeling disbelief swell inside me. Did he not get the hint?

Annoyed, I sat up.

“Send him up.” I said, in no mood to go all the way down to see him.

“Up?” She sounded surprised, “ To your room?”

“Yes. To my room. Is that a fucking problem?” I growled, annoyed.

“Not at all Ms. Kim. He’ll be right up.”

I got out of bed, shrugging off my jacket and taking off my dress as well. It was a little damp because I’d sweated through the fabric. I grabbed one of my oversized t shirts , slipping it on and moving to open the door before retreating back to the inner room. Feeling annoyed, I walked up to the vanity and grabbed the hair brush, running the bristles through my locks. I heard his footsteps outside and stiffened.

“If you’re here to defend your shitty girlfriend, you can just leave Jungkook. I swear to God, I’ve had enough of this.” I shouted. He didn’t reply and my hackles rose.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I said something harsh-“ I froze when I reached the doorway, staring at the man in front of me. He had a large , almost humongous bouquet of wild orchids and roses in his hand and I stared at his face.

This was definitely not Jungkook.

“Umm… hi.” The man bowed awkwardly, his gaze going straight to my legs, where my t shirt ended, just a couple of inches past my waist. I felt the blood rush to my face.

“Who are you…Get out !!!” I shouted, horrified, diving for my jacket and holding it up against my bare thighs. The man held both his hands up, eyes wide..

“I’m sorry… I… you said I could come up to your room….” He protested and I scowled, confused.

“What? “ I stared, stunned… “ Who…what?”

“I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. I’m uh….one of the sponsors for this festival. And a fan. Huge fan.” He was staring at me beseechingly and I felt my head begin to throb.

The sheer relentlessness of this day…..

“I… Mr. Jeon…” So weird, God, “ There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not…. I thought you were someone else.”

“Jungkook yes…your ex husband, right? You were married to him for six months after he lost his wife….. He’s also one of the artists exhibiting their work here.” He nodded quickly, running long fingers through thick glossy hair, lips parting in a hesitant smile and I stared at him.

“How do you know all that? ” I demanded, heart pounding. He immediately held his hands up again.

“I’m sorry… I sound like a stalker, shit. But Trust me I’m not. I just am a huge fan.. I looked up some stuff about you….before.” He shuffled a bit awkwardly, finally looking up at me.

I tried to catch his scent. No scent to speak of. A beta then. Relaxing just a bit, I swallowed. At least I wasn’t in any immediate danger. But still, I had no intention of letting him see me in nothing but a t shirt. Embarrassed, I gripped the jacket tighter.

“Why are you here?” I demanded angrily, taking in his appearance. He didn’t look like a hoodlum or someone dangerous. He was good looking, dressed in a white t shirt and black Jacket over plain black slacks. His shoes looked expensive and I didn’t miss the shiny Rolex on his wrist either,.

“Well, for one thing I own the Hotel.” He chuckled and that made my stomach turn. “And also like I said, I’m one of the main sponsors for the Festival itself.”

“Right.” I was too disoriented to process this, head throbbing. “Of course. Is there a reason why you wanted to see me?”

“I was downstairs…just now… I couldn’t help but overhear you with your agent. You wanted to leave as soon as possible. To pull out of the event and I’m just here to try and change your mind, Ms. Kim.” He smiled earnestly and I realized he was really quite young.

I sighed.

“Could you… Could you wait outside? I want to put some clothes on before we talk any further.” I said tiredly and he bowed quickly.

“Uh… These…I’ll just leave these here.” He placed the large bunch of flowers on the table before quickly leaving the room and I swore, racing to the suitcase in the corner. I quickly grabbed a pair of jeans, slipping them on hastily and zipping myself up before glancing at the mirror again. This would have to do.

I moved to the door and opened it, finding him right there, looking lost.

“I… come in, please.” I said hesitantly and he bowed again, moving in and waiting for me to close the door and take a seat on the couch, before sinking into an arm chair across from me.

“Did you see the itinerary? It doesn’t get more sexualized than this.” I waved the booklet and he flushed.

“I understand you’re upset about … certain things. I’m sorry that you feel objectified , in the festival. It wasn’t the intention I had when I first told Hyorin and the others that I wanted them to invite you. But , I’ve been busy the past month, and I didn’t go over the complete agenda. If I did, I definitely would have made sure that you were treated with just as much respect as the others. Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do now, but I’ve had a word with all of the panelists and also the hosts. We won’t entertain any question or comments of a sexual nature and if anyone tries to insinuate anything , I’ll have them removed from the panel myself. “ He said firmly.

“I’m only here because you told me you would exhibit my mother’s works too.” I said sharply and he bowed.

“ Your mother’s works are just as exquisite and I’ve arranged for them to be displayed right at the center of the arena, with a running slide show of her childhood , her art technique and the great love she had for her daughter.” He said firmly.

I could only stare. He sounded incredibly sincere and there was no mistaking the earnestness in his tone.

“I’m….” I bit my lips, “ Listen, Mr. Jeon, I’m flattered but honestly, I never wanted to be here. I… there was … something else that made me want to come and well, that turned out to be a huge mistake. To be honest, I’m not sure if I have it in me to suffer through days of people treating me like I’m some kind of sex crazed bimbo.” I shook my head.

“how about this.? You let me be your date for tonight and you let me display your work, today at the dinner itself. I’ll be right by your side. And then, I’ll have my private jet on standby and we can fly back to Korea. You deserve the spotlight, Heejin and I want people to see how good you are at what you do. I don’t care if I lose money over this… As long as you’re comfortable. ”

I gawked at him, stunned.

“Private Jet?” I choked out. “ Okay, now I’m genuinely concerned.”

He laughed.

“I’m a Hotelier, and I have properties all over the world and I like to inspect them personally most of the time. Its more practical to have a private jet than to try and align my schedules with everyone else.” He smiled.

“Right. Convenient.” I shook my head. “ I’m no stranger to excessive wealth, Mr. Jeon and trust me, it’s always left a sour taste in my mouth.”

“I don’t flaunt my wealth, Ms. Kim. These clothes? Got them on the streets of Florence. I drive a Mazda. Wealth has no meaning to me. People do. People like you, who bring beauty into the world with their craft. You’ve made my world beautiful and I just want to repay , in some way.” He smiled, “ Also, You’re very beautiful.” He added and then immediately looked away. “ I’m sorry. That was… dumb . I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

Endeared against my own wishes, I found myself fighting a small smile.

“Just tonight’s dinner?” I asked quietly.

“Just the dinner party.” He assured me quickly.

“Alright. But I’m not getting into any private Jet. My agent will book me tickets and I’ll find my way back to Korea.”

“As you wish. I’ll pick you up at seven. What color is your dress?” He asked casually and I blinked.

“Uh… Wine red? I guess? Why?”

He grinned, looking boyishly handsome.

“I’ll see you at seven, Ms. Kim.”

He bowed, before pausing by the bouquet. He grabbed a couple of flowers, holding them up for me to see.

“Daffodils and Lilacs.” He grinned, “ To finding something new to love. And to new beginnings.”

Wow.

Subtle.

I shook my head, momentarily forgetting all about Jungkook as I grinned all the way back to the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I told you… coming with me will earn you major points.” Wonwoo smirked as he pulled me in by my waist , holding my dress up for me as I stared at the sleek black limousine at the Hotel entrance. I watched as he held my wrist gently, latching a string of sterling silver and red rubies around the delicate curve of it.

“This is too lavish…I don’t want this…Who are you?” I demanded, flushing because of the way the flashes went off in every direction, reporters scrambling when they caught sight of him. He was clearly popular, if the number of photos being clicked were any indication. I regretted everything.

Wonwoo pressed a kiss to my wrists, right near the bracelet and gently placed my palm on the curve of his elbow, leading me over to the car and I watched the chauffeur open the door for us.

“ Someone who can get anyone here fired. Be careful , sweetheart.” I watched in mute horror as he bent low, picking up the hem of my skirt so I wouldn’t trip, while climbing into the limousine. The reporters began whispering excitedly and more flashes went off . My face completely red, I hastened to climb in.

“These people look at you like you’re some kind of King.” I stared out of the tinted windows seeing the sheer multitude of people and Wonwoo chuckled.

“ That’s because I am. At least for tonight. And that’s why I’m the perfect guy to protect you Heejin. They’re all terrified of me.” He winked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook found me, fifteen minutes into the event. I hung by the large archway, near an alcove, sipping champagne and nibbling on some hors d’oeuvre as people threw glances at me. I noticed the conspicuous lack of a date on his arm and straightened, sighing and bracing myself for more unpleasantness as he picked his way through the crowd, eyes trained on me.

“Can we talk?” He said, the minute he was at hearing distance and I exhaled.

“No.” I said casually and he made a noise of impatience.

“Fucking, hell Heejin..just…” He swore again, looking upset. “ Why are you doing this to me? What do you want from me huh?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“What do I want from you? Oh, fuck off Jungkook. I want nothing from you.” I snapped, turning on my heel, ready to leave but his hand shot out, gripping me right above my elbow, fingers curling in hard.

“Fuck.. listen. I don’t know what she said to you. I .. I’m sorry if she offended you…. Alright? She’s an alpha… I can’t change the way she thinks…”

“I didn’t ask you to. I merely said that if you associate yourself with people who think I’m scum, I won’t let you into my life. Because I respect myself too much for that.” I said firmly.

“She doesn’t think you’re scum, Heejin come on. She just has some misconceptions about certain things.”

“God, Jungkook…just stop. Alright? Stop. Because I’m not asking you do anything. I’m leaving on a flight tomorrow morning and you’ll never see me again. That’s all there is to it.”

He froze at that, fingers curling harder around my arm and it hurt, the skin turning red. Stupid fucker, never knew his own strength.

“Ow, Jungkook let go.” I whispered, and he did, albeit reluctantly.

I rubbed at the bruised skin, furious. I watched as the redness healed over, the pain fading to a throb and then into a pleasant heat and I hated it. Hated that being an omega meant that Jungkook’s rough touch turned to pleasure on my skin.

“What do you mean you’re leaving tomorrow? The Festival is for two weeks.”

I sighed.

“I didn’t come here for the festival. I came here to see you. To see if you were as hung up on me as I was on you…but apparently not.” I snapped.

Jungkook went perfectly still at that.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He said softly and I laughed, shaking my head.

“Wow. You really never even considered it huh? Us? Together.?” It wasn’t funny at all, but I could only laugh. Probably because I’d been so sure.. So certain that there was something there.

He opened his mouth to answer but I felt a warm solidness behind me, an arm wrapping around my waist and a second later, Wonwoo was there pressing up against me.

“Jungkook-ssi… Such a pleasure to meet you.” He held his hand out, and Jungkook frowned, his eyes trained on where wonwoo’s fingers curled around my waist.

“Get your hands off her.” He said shortly and Wonwoo blinked, pulling away from me and stepping back .

“What the-? No. Fuck you.” I snapped, glaring at Jungkook before grabbing Wonwoo’s hand and bringing it back around me. “Don’t you fucking dare take your hands off.” I held my finger up at his face and Wonwoo looked momentarily stunned.

“Really, Heejin? You’re doing this?” Jungkook glared at me. “ We need to talk.”

“So talk.” I snapped. “ Tell me why you think a bigoted bitch is the best you can do in terms of dating. Tell me why she’s the only one who can ‘ understand’ “ I made air quotes, shaking my head, “ You think you and your shitty have monopoly on grief Jungkook? I’ve lost people too. Just because I haven’t screwed other people over because of it, doesn’t make my grief invalid….yeah.”

Ringing silence followed and I regretted everything.

“Fuck.” I whispered, shaking my head. “ I .. Shit. I need to get out of here.”

I pulled away from Wonwoo, moving out of the huge ballroom and Jungkook was right behind me, of course he was.

“Heejin…fuck. Wait. You’re right. I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t understand me. Of course you did. Its why you stuck around… I know that. And you’re right, she had no business talking about you like that. I’ll have a word with her… But…”

I sped up, wanting to get away but he grabbed me again, tugging me closer out of the hall way and into a darkened alcove and I flinched when he pushed me up against the wall, caging me in, as he pressed in closer.

“What did you mean by that?” He demanded, hands coming up to grip my waist, curling gently and my chest heaved at the touch of him, the enclosed space making his scent turn potent, strong and impossible to avoid. My nostril flared as I breathed him in, familiar and yet so foreign, comforting and yet so fucking dangerous.

“By what?” I snapped and his hands moved up, shaping the curves of my body , thumb grazing the tip of my breast and making me jump, before moving up, gripping my face, gently. He pressed his thumb into my lower lip, rubbing back and forth, face impossibly close and I swallowed, throat sandpaper dry.

“About us? Together….” He breathed and I exhaled shakily.

“You know what I meant.” I whispered. “ If you don’t then I can’t explain it.” I whispered and he swore, head dropping against mine, forehead resting against mine, and lips less than a hairsbreadth away.

We’ve never kissed, I thought suddenly. I licked my lips, turning my face away but his fingers gripped my chin at once, yanking me around to stare at him again.

“Look at me, baby. Tell me… You thought about us together?” He whispered .

I breathed shakily.

“Of course I did…. “ I snapped.

“Then clearly therapy isn’t working for you.” He snapped right back and I flinched.

“What-“

Jungkook pulled away staring at me.

“ Do you even remember all the shit I did to you?” He asked quietly. My stomach dropped.

“Jungkook.”

“I broke your ribs.” He said calmly. I swallowed.

“That.. That was an accident. You didn’t mean to.” I protested. “ And we’re past all that… I don’t… I don’t blame you for it.” I said, which was honest enough.

“And what about the nights I got drunk, Heejin….” He said softly and my skin went cold.

“That… That was just… It was just an outlet for your grief… “ I looked away and he scoffed.

“You’re calling it an outlet for grief. I believe the world calls it rape.”

I felt my entire body shiver at the word , moving up to wrap my arms around his neck, trying to pull him close but he was stiff as a board.

“ Don’t” I snapped. “ Don’t …. Its over…it’s in the past.”

“It was still me. I was the one who did it and I can’t… I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

I pulled away to glare at him.

“So , what? You won’t give us a chance because of something I’ve already forgiven you for?”

“Yes.” He said shortly. “ Because you may have forgiven me, but I haven’t forgiven myself.”

I felt my body sag in disbelief.

“Jungkook that’s-“

“You deserve better. You always have. I’m not… I don’t deserve someone like you Heejin. You’re kind and breathtaking and I’m just… a broken mess of a man who’s barely getting by.”

“Oh, right… So broken.” I scoffed. “ You’re on the front page of magazines, you have a successful career and a beautiful girlfriend,,,,forgive me if I’m not breaking my heart over your failures.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily before looking up at me.

“ You wanna know the truth about me, Heejin-ah?” He swallowed. “ I just got out of rehab last week.”

I went still.

“What?” I was sure I’d misheard.

“I… I came here and about a month or so in…I started drinking again…” He glanced away and my heart turned over inside me.

“Jungkook, what?” I demanded, horrified.

“I got drunk and got into an argument with a cop. I hit him. They found out I was a single father and-“ He shook his head, “ I got arrested for disorderly conduct , Public intoxication and assault.”

I stared at him in disbelief, unable to keep the disappointment out of my tone.

“ Arrested for assault... Jungkook why?” I breathed and he flushed.

“I know…. It was stupid.. I… I was stupid.” He said softly. “Soeun isn’t a baby sitter. She’s a social worker. She’s here to keep an eye on me because they want to make sure I’m not a threat to Mina. If I slip up, they’ll deport me back home and then the state will likely take her away from me. Soeun likes me….so she agreed to lie to you ……And as for the girlfriend…” He laughed, shaking his head, “ Hyorin broke up with me after I got arrested. We’re not… We’re not dating. She was only there to get some prints for the panel tomorrow.” He finished shakily.

I stared at him.

“Why?” I demanded . “ Why would you lie to me… Jungkook ….”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was a screw up.” He said shakily. “ I know I’m supposed to be getting better and I have but… But sometimes I just…I miss…. I miss home. “ He shuddered. “ And you.” He looked up at me. “ I miss you a lot, Heejin and it hurts and I feel like the only way I can forget about you…about us together is if I drink. And I’m sorry. I know I don’t have the right to miss you, not after everything I put you through but I… it’s how I feel. ” He glanced away, trembling a little.

I wrapped my arms around myself, stepping away, feeling myself go cold.

We stayed quiet for a few seconds, both of us staring at the floor lost in our own thoughts. I felt drained. Miserably so. Like someone had sucked all the strength out of me. I realized how badly I had wanted Jungkook to be okay. To heal and be himself again. And I’d spent the last nine months, fully convinced that he was. That he was doing what he loved, bonding with his daughter building a life for himself.

But apparently, he was also spiraling back into addiction as well.

It was like we were back in that apartment, both of us miserable but desperate to be something we clearly were not : Okay.

“Does Taehyung know?” I asked finally and Jungkook hesitated before nodding.

“He was at my court hearing three weeks ago. He’s the reason I haven’t already lost her.” Jungkook whispered.

“What did he say?”

“He thinks I should come back to Korea.” Jungkook said quietly. “ He wants me to start therapy again with him. Every week. “

I nodded.

“Fair enough. And what do you think?”

“I think I will. My probation ends in three days. I’ll… I’ll start making arrangements afterwards. I’ll probably be back in a few weeks time. ”

I stared at him, finally seeing the things I hadn’t noticed this morning. The shadows beneath his eyes, the worry lines on his brow. I wondered if he would have ever told me the truth, if not for this little confrontation between us.

Silence descended again and I bit my lips, a million thoughts running through my head. I felt the pull of his scent through it all, an instinctive urge to reach out and touch and draw him close and I wondered if this was it. That for the rest of our lives we would just be drawn to each other, reluctant and hurt but unable to stay away.

“You’re leaving tomorrow then?” He asked quietly breaking through the fog in my head.

“Well obviously not.” I snapped. “ I’m not leaving you. I’ll tell Minho, we’ll be staying here for a few weeks. Do you actually have a possible job back home? If you don’t I can ask my agent to find one for you….”

Jungkook was staring at me like I’d grown an extra head.

“ What?” I asked roughly.

He swallowed.

“No.. I .. I don’t have a job there.”

“We’ll get you one. And my apartment is big enough so you can stay with me till we find you a place of your own. And I think it’ll actually be good for you, because there’s a Fine Art photographer, pretty well know guy who stays just a few blocks away and e can probably- “

“You haven’t really changed have you?” Jungkook cut me off in the middle of my rambling .

I flushed, looking away.

“What do you mean?”

“Back when we were married… it was just like this.. I’d fuck up and do something awful and you’d just take it all in stride, get ready to help me out of it….”

“I don’t know what you mean…” I said quickly, “ Let’s go back to the party we’ll talk later-“

He grabbed both my arms, pulling me back to face him when I tried to get past him and I yelped, staring up at him in surprise.

“What?” I demanded. “ What is it now?”

“How do you do this thing, Heejin ?” He asked roughly. “ How do you just get ready to clean up every fucking mess I make like it doesn’t hurt you? Like I don’t hurt you?”

“What are you talking about?” I tried to wriggle out of his hold but he tugged me closer.

“How do you just…” He shook his head, “ accept me so unconditionally? Like… Its like no matter what I do, you’re just willing to look past it and I don’t fucking understand Heejin… why do you put up with me, damn it?”

I stared right at him. Caught his gaze and held it, refusing to look away.

“You know why.” I whispered, licking my lips, throat dry, “ And if you don’t…. I’m not going to tell you.”

His eyes widened , lips parting and he exhaled sharply, before letting me go and stepping away.

He looked away, shaking a little and I sighed.

“Let’s just get this night over with, yeah?” I said quietly. “ and then we’ll talk.”

He didn’t reply, merely standing aside and motioning for me to leave first.

I shook my head, moving to grip his arm instead.

“Together.” I said firmly. “ We’ll get this night over with, together.”

Author’s Note : i love these two. i’ve never wanted two people to be together so much.

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@namjooningelsewhere @itsdingdong @ungodlyjoon @caratarmy131

@ladyartemesia @hardggukk @iliveforjin @loveemariee

@unicornbabylover @dchimminie @nope2214 @landl7xoxo

@mrcleanheichou @kayteekat @wassup-haeyadwae @natgba @nikkiordonez12 @neverthefirstchoice @btsssssfiction

@mylittlestrangeandsweetworld @kookiesxbananamilk @lovra974 @supernoonanyc @kokoandkookie

#bts smut #bts smut fic #bts fics #bts fanfic #friends to lovers bts au #jungkook abo #jungkook smut

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impostoradult · 4 years ago

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This is time that was allotted to these storylines by canon, offering an expectation of meaning and importance, offering what results in a promise—not time the fans imagined or made up, not something they feel nebulously entitled to, but time they spent on plots the canon gave to them. (Cas means something to Dean after all these years and a love confession. Bucky means something to Steve after all these years and a snap. Jaime’s project of growth and his meaningful relationship with Brienne is something worth investing in.) But instead of saying, yes, you spent all this time watching these scenes, feeling these moments, taking this in—you grew with this character, with these relationships (grew in many cases away from the set starting point)—here is your promised meaning, again and again, these properties snatch the rug away and then pretend blithely they cannot understand why “entitled fans” are so upset.

I’ve been meaning to write my version of this argument for a while now, and I suppose this article is just as good a reason as any.

My thesis, in short, is that lack of queer representation actually isn’t what is creating ~the problem~ here. What’s creating the problem is the overriding power of heteronormativity as a kind of ‘trump’ story logic that is allowed to steamroller everything else into oblivion. (And yes, there actually is a substantial difference between those two things)

Sub-thesis 1: Representation Actually Isn’t A Strong Argument for Destiel (or any particular ship/character)

Controversial, I know. The representation argument (while an extremely valid argument as applies to popular culture in general) is actually not a very good argument when it comes to why Dean should be explicitly queer and Destiel should have been consummated.

For one, there’s no reason -- exclusively from the standpoint that it is a moral imperative that queer people are represented in media -- why any particular character or set of characters should be that representation. The ethical cultural mandate to represent marginalized groups does not mandate that any one character or set of characters in any particular given story be that representation*. Yes, even if you as a member of that marginalized group happen to identify with that character. Even then, it isn’t OWED to you. (I think writers should take those trends of identification seriously, and think about what it means to marginalized groups, and act accordingly. But I don’t think it creates an OBLIGATION)

*I’d argue the primary caveat to this would be in stories where the character’s situation or arc is directly related to struggles experienced by that marginalized group (i.e., casting mostly white actors in stories where those characters are experiencing racial oppression)

For another, if representation of queer characters were primarily dictated by fandoms, 90% of queer characters in media would be white, conventionally attractive men. (That might be overstating it a bit, but fandoms have serious biases when it comes to shipping and what kind of characters they latch onto for queer interpretation, and that’s one of the reasons I’m grateful queer representation is not primarily linked to our tastes/preferences).

The representation argument is a very valid argument when examining popular culture as whole, and when looking at broader trends for example, within a genre, or a whole network. But no particular TV show is obligated to make particular characters within it queer just because representation is a moral imperative as a broader cultural issue.

Sub-Thesis 2: Heteronormativity Creates Stupid/Badly Constructed Stories

The actual problem here is how heteronormativity creates a kind of trump logic that overrides coherent storytelling.

I’m not upset about what happened on Supernatural because I think we missed out on representation. There is actually plenty of ~better~ representation elsewhere, and there will continue to be more as time goes on. The representation issue is peripheral at best when it comes to analyzing what went ‘wrong’ with Supernatural.

The key issue here is that stories need to make sense, not just in terms of plot (although that matters), but in terms of character growth, emotional arcs, etc. The ending of Supernatural is bad because it treated massive pieces of character growth and one of the most significant emotional arcs of the whole show as if it was ultimately inconsequential -- which is bad storytelling and doesn’t make sense.

And YES, we are ‘owed’ stories that make sense. It’s not entitled to want a story to be coherent, because coherence is what makes a story a story, and not just a series of random meaninglessly assembled plot points/fictional anecdotes.

The problem is, Hollywood writers keep writing themselves into situations where emotional coherence basically requires an explicitly queer dynamic (or at least a strongly subtextual one), and then just being like...but these characters aren’t queer so we can’t do that. Instead, let’s end Steve’s arc by sending him back in time to live a heterosexual life with Peggy, disregarding the HUGELY significant plot points related to Steve/Bucky which grounded multiple entire movies within the MCU (Winter Solider, Civil War). Let’s end Sherlock by inventing a random, long-lost Holmes sister never remotely hinted at or foreshadowed and make that incomprehensible plot point the finale, when the entire series has been grounded in John and Sherlock’s relationship.

Let’s make it canonically clear Cas’s love for Dean is the one single act of pure free will in a world with a malevolent God trying to manipulate everyone’s lives for his own amusement, and that Cas’s love for Dean is the only thing keeping the primary story-universe of Supernatural intact, because every other version of Sam and Dean in every other universe kill each other as God intended. Let’s make it clear that Cas’s betrayal of heaven due to his love for Dean is literally propping up their entire universe, but then end the story by pretending like it’s not that important after all. Castiel who?

And it’s just like...THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE! It doesn’t make fucking sense. It’s bad writing. So why would you do it? (I mean, I being a bit facetious here. I know exactly why. Because the precious feelings of homophobes will be hurt, and companies don’t want to lose out on their money)

It’s not entitled to want a story to make sense. It’s not entitled to want major plot points and character arcs and emotional dynamics to have resolutions that follow from what came before in the story.

And I’m sorry, but you are a ridiculous person if you watched Dean grieve Castiel’s ostensible deaths in s7 and s13 (both times becoming nearly catatonic, nihilistic, more self-destructive than usual, and borderline suicidal over losing Cas) and try to argue to me that his shrug-it-off attitude towards Cas’s death/loss in the finale makes any goddamn sense at all.

It is utterly inconsistent with everything that has happened before in Supernatural regarding Dean and Castiel’s relationship. It’s incomprehensibly incoherent and just stupid. (And that is just the absolute tip of the incoherence iceberg because to fully explain why the ending of Supernatural re: Destiel doesn’t make sense we’d have to review over 300 episode’s worth of content, and there isn’t time for that)

I’m just so sick and so tired of being asked to pretend to be stupid because you know, man, heterosexuality. They’re not gay!!1!

The exhaustion I feel, as a queer viewer, in fact is not borne out of lack of representation. The representation issue is very much on an upward trajectory and I’m not worried about the future of TV not being queer enough. I’m not.

The exhaustion and frustration and anger I feel as a queer viewer is borne of having to repeatedly watch stupid endings to good stories because the story can only make sense if you make it queer (you cowards). I’m tired of being asked to develop dumb amnesia disease in order to consume endings to stories that had to blow everything up at the end to (re)enforce a heterosexuality that can only stand on a foundation of utter incoherence and contradiction to monumental things that came before it.

I am JUST SO TIRED of being asked to sacrifice my intelligence, my basic logic and critical thinking skills, and my ability to remember basic narrative beats at the alter of almighty Heterosexuality, supreme ruler of all cultural output and destroyer of good queer things.

Heterosexuality isn’t owed my stupidity, and I’m not entitled for wanting stories to make sense. YOU are entitled for demanding my stupidity when you wrote that dumb shit and expected me to act like it wasn’t dumb simply because it was heterosexual.

No, the heterosexuality is exactly the reason it IS dumb.

#Supernatural #Sherlock #Destiel #Johnlock #Stucky #MCU

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soundofseventeen · 5 years ago

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Under the Umbrella (Kim Mingyu)

Alright y’all...you have my full permission to condemn me for never being on. I meant to have this posted like two weeks ago, but moving is hectic. Anyways, a happy late birthday to @notprincesscharming and @mingyulonglegs and I hope y’all like this! -Bee

Word count: 4962

“Y/N, don’t forget the umbrella,” Joshua called from the kitchen. “The news said it was actually gonna rain today.” He came into the living room, holding a bowl of popcorn, calmly sticking them into his mouth one by one. He eyed your casual attire, wondering if you’d be able to make it without getting wet.

You shook your head as if reading his mind. “They’ve been saying that since...forever ago and it’s been nothing but hot weather. I’ll live.” You sighed when your roommate shook his head at you, and went back to find said umbrella and came back out with a small huff and he nodded approvingly. You had just opened the door, stepping outside and only stopping when you remembered. “Do you need anything?”

“The will to live might be nice! I’m ready to drop out or get hit by a bus….I’m fine with either option at this point.” He flashed you his famous devil may care grin. “Anything will be better than this torture.”

You pulled out all the won in your pocket and waved it at him. “Sorry pal; the best I can do is an energy drink and maybe some ramen if you’re lucky.”

“I can live with that. Make sure it’s not that low carb shit though! Last time, I had a crash so bad that I slept for two days.” The engagement ring on his finger reflected against the sun and it shone on your face, making you turn away with a grimace. The wedding was a week away and you couldn’t believe how soon so many things that’d change. At least you knew that this would always be intact.

“You take what you get and you don’t complain!” You laughed and closed the door, ready to head to town for the week’s groceries since Joshua would be doing the cooking for a few more days. The sky was blue but a hint of the gray clouds colored around it. Rain had been in the forecast for sometime but it had yet to fall and you knew once it happened, the last traces of the humid weather would disappear for the remainder of the year and the cold would take its place.

Normally, you’d be thrilled to bring out your sweaters and blankets and parade down the streets in your favorite boots but lately you couldn’t find yourself to move past the summer or the adventures it brought. You could still taste the watermelon when you speared it with a toothpick and ate it while you waited in the laundromat for the washer to finish its last spin cycle and you could hear the songs playing on the radio while you roasted marshmallows and swatted the pesky mosquitoes while the campfire crackled happily with the attention. And you could smell the sunblock as you rubbed it on your skin even though you didn’t plan on leaving the shade. These memories you couldn’t let go of just yet and you hoped it could stay like that just a little longer until you could accept it. Especially when those expressive brown eyes and warm smiles that lit your soul from the inside out seemed dedicated to searing themselves deeper and deeper into your heart until a permanent mark took its place. You dusted the nonexistent dog hair off your shirt, hoping to shake it off.

The grocery shopping didn’t take as long as you expected it to, so you took the long way home, picking up a few extra things on the way back, even cutting your roommate some slack and picking up some takeout so he wouldn’t dirty the kitchen you spent a long time cleaning up. You didn’t enjoy the hot breeze that hit your face but it still hinted at the summer weather and for that, you were grateful. You walked past a popular restaurant, pausing when you recognized Minghao and nearly waved at him until you saw that he wasn’t alone. Your breath got caught in your throat and you struggled to get it out, your lungs failing you. Your hands trembled a little at the sight and it took all your power not to drop all the items in your hand and turn around. Minghao saw you and he waved, but you couldn’t. You merely walked past the window, not bothering to turn back until you were sure you wouldn’t see either of them. You faked a smile and a good mood for Joshua (which he bought, bless his soul) as you chatted (or rather gloated at how you were right and you didn’t need the umbrella) at the table and when you went outside to take the trash out, you looked at the evening sky once more.

Not a hint of rain.

The relationship you had hadn’t always been this way and you didn’t think you’d even make it as far as it did. You and Joshua had agreed to travel abroad together to experience a life outside of your home while you continued your studies, deciding that you needed a culture shock at least once in your life. You lucked out when you moved somewhere you could still speak English but the same couldn’t be said for others. That’s how Joshua met Kim Mingyu when they became roommates for a year.

Mingyu was someone who understood the basics of English but often had trouble communicating so the pair became fast friends because Joshua spoke Korean almost as well as Mingyu. It’s not that you didn’t have an interest in getting to know him, but you stayed in your dorm a lot, often studying and refusing to leave the place when your social anxiety kicked in, especially when it felt like you couldn’t relate to your own roommate. But when you started spending more time in their dorms, it seemed inevitable to befriend him as well.

He piqued your interest when you saw the photographs hanging all over the place and how good they looked even if he wasn’t a professional. He took a lot of candid pictures Joshua and many other boys you recognized both in your class and around the campus, and you noticed the captions on the back, writing the dates and the activities and the food stains that contrasted against the whiteness of the Polaroid he sometimes used. You were confused when you saw yourself in some of the background photos because you couldn’t remember Mingyu ever taking out a camera in your presence. It surprised you even more when you found out it was more of a hobby than a passion for him.

You weren’t sure what sparked the movement but you just knew that one day he was your best friend’s roommate and the next, he showed you his private world that included bass playing and poetry slams his other friends helped him write. He left after a couple of semesters due to him still being undecided in his major, but exchanged social media to keep in touch with each other’s lives. He was a great friend and even though it hadn’t been meant to have him around for a long time, you were satisfied in knowing you could watch him grow and cheer for him from afar. After all, it was a big wide world and you didn’t expect to cross paths with him again, not when he was destined for great things and his lack of posts on his social media proved it.

Over the school years, you and Joshua hopped around from university to university and meeting new people and being introduced to new things. You two dated around, although no serious commitments ever came out out of that, which sometimes bothered you because of the pressure to find someone hit you out of nowhere but Joshua often encouraged you to shrug it off and have fun. You wanted something serious but also your wanderlust always won in the end and you knew finding someone who was okay with you seeing parts of the world with your best friend was nearly impossible.

Your luck seemed to change when you arrived in South Korea. Tired of always asking your parents to transfer money into your bank account, you obtained a work visa to provide for your necessities and Joshua followed suit. You finally managed to move out of the dorms and into your own apartment with him as your roommate. Granted, you struggled in the beginning but anywhere seemed like a better option than sharing a place with someone you didn’t know.

It didn’t surprise you when Joshua casually announced he was going on a date one night you were doing calculus but you wondered why it had taken so long. When the first date turned into a second and then a third, you felt lonely because he didn’t stay home as much, even though he tried not make you feel left out and you appreciated that. However, you knew that you couldn’t hold onto him forever, especially because he seemed serious about this one. So you sucked it up and let Joshua be, keeping your emotions to a minimum.

One day, while at the hardware store, you were browsing the aisles, looking for the paint section because the living room needed a new coat when you saw a familiar face. He stuck out like a sore thumb even after not seeing him in a few years. Kim Mingyu carefully balanced the bird feeders in his arms and when he struggled to hold onto them, you found yourself running to help when one nearly toppled to the floor. His eyes widened when he saw you but he treated you like an old friend as he chatted away about the old lady near his house who was too old to replace her old ones and your paint was long forgotten. Just before he left, he said it had been good to see you again and it was a small world to wind up there of all places. You left home with a good mood at seeing him even though you exchanged nothing except a small catchup on your lives.

A month later, you found out you worked next door to each other when you had gone out for lunch and you saw him leave a local clinic for his own lunch. He called your name, flashed you a smile and waved you down, heading in opposite directions and all, and you ended up eating at a Japanese restaurant he swore was the best in the area. From there, not only did you try to time your lunch breaks to at least see him, but you finally managed to get his phone number although you quickly realized he was busy outside of work too. He had hobbies that included building cabinets and desks and painting them, and often checked in with the ajumma in exchange for learning her recipes. (He said it was good for future résumés.) He had switched to online courses so he’d have more time to do things so whenever you saw him during the lunch hours you couldn’t meet up, you’d see him with a laptop stuck to his face as he typed away.

The first time he asked you to hang out with him after work happened at the last minute. With work being slow, you were allowed a couple of hours earlier than usual when he had walked out, his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he locked up, assuring someone it’d be okay. He had spotted you the moment he hung up and asked if you were busy. When you told him no, he apologized for asking you last minute but he had planned to go to a concert with his friend Seungcheol, but his sister had broken her arm and they were currently at the hospital and if you’d like to go. You thought about it a moment, quickly weighing out the pros and cons, and agreed. You texted him your address and he promised to pick you up within 30 minutes. Joshua wasn’t there so you wrote him a note not to wait up for you and that you had your keys in case you arrived later than planned and Mingyu whisked you away for the afternoon.

You two hit it off and before you knew it, he became part of your everyday life and you managed to balance school, work, home and now him. He began calling you weekly to see if you’d like to accompany him to do laundry late at night and most of the time, you said yes. Though most of the time he worked on his assignments, he made sure to bring the seasonal fruit in a container for you two to snack on until you complained you were hungry and he dashed to the McDonald’s across the street for a last minute meal. He invited you to a lot of other places that recommended or required a plus one and you went along with him whenever time allowed.

It took you a lot longer that you wanted to admit that he was someone who couldn’t be alone. Most of his personality trait revolved around the fact that he needed constant companionship and it wasn’t a bad thing but when you asked him about it he shrugged and said he liked being around people. But he did, however, invite you to an animal shelter and he rescued a pup that he fell in love with immediately. And then you figured out he liked helping others, felt a sense of responsibility and pride when he looked after people, and when you brought it up to him another night, he gripped the insect repellent little too tightly which made it slip from his hands and fall with a dusty crash next to Aji who woke up scared from her nap. He never thought of it like that and with a shy smile, he placed his hand on your knee and explained his dream to become a nurse to feel that sense of belonging in the world while Ed Sheehan sang contentedly in the background.

Joshua met him again and the two often made plans to hang out when their schedules lined up. Apparently they had a ton of mutual friends and they spent a lot of time together, often making a party out of study dates. You didn’t accompany them those times, instead taking advantage of the peace and quiet to catch up on your work, sleep or latest Netflix binge until your roommate came back.

Joshua noticed the sparkle in your eye whenever he saw you with Mingyu or whenever Mingyu stopped by, but he never said anything in fear of you denying it and pushing Mingyu away because it had happened in the past with a few others. However, he knew it wasn’t his business to interfere with your love life so he let you be, watching you slowly fall in love Mingyu, but also wondering if you’d ever make your move. He could tell that while watching Mingyu spraying your back with the sunblock and begging you to join him for a swim, he’d be your one that got away and he remained unsure if you’d be able to bounce back from that. That was one heartbreak Joshua would not know how to handle.

You swore you could never do that, but it was dusk and you saw him fiddling with the bass trying to keep the somber timbre between Hansol and Wonwoo rapping about hope despite the hopelessness they painted and you could feel Joshua wrapping his fingers around your hand as he let their words of affirmation sink in. You squeezed his hand back in reassurance, his breakdown still fresh in your minds and only let it go when you stood up to give Mingyu his well deserved standing ovation and you realized just how far you fell into the rabbit hole. He met your gaze bashfully and looked away just as quickly, a rare thing for someone as confident as Kim Mingyu. You threw a stray flower in his direction, to which he caught by the pink petal and fumbled out a meek, “thank you,” and walked offstage before anymore attention would be on him.

He might have not been the brightest crayon in the box, with the way he’d suddenly exclaim at a bruise he barely noticed while you talked about the possibility of failing one of your classes or whenever he called you in the middle of the night when you were dead asleep and asked if you wanted to go have dinner because he had just finished building the ajuma’s house for her blue jays (but you rejected those offers most of the time). Rather, it was the way he talked a hundred words a minute when it came down to him teaching Aji a new trick to when he raved about how Soonyoung was his favorite person for giving him extra guacamole so he wouldn’t have to ask for more. And your favorite times were when he’d swipe his eyes happily when he told you about the recovering drug addicts and alcoholics and how long they had stayed sober.

Just like that, you could feel the ache in your chest because you were just one of many of Mingyu’s admirers. He treated you the way he treated everyone else: with common courtesy and basic respect. You could easily find him having a meal with one of his coworkers while on break the same way you knew his everyday hobbies that included people. You didn’t let it get to you; just being his friend was more than enough. You merely smiled when it was your turn to spend time with him, feeling like the luckiest person walking the planet because you had been blessed with an angel...with respects to Jeonghan of course.

You kept him close, often letting him fall asleep during a movie when he overworked himself, and turning the air conditioner on as low as it could go because he radiated more body heat than you ever could and then covering yourselves with a blanket so he wouldn’t get cold and helping him make dinner when he didn’t have enough to go out and pretending you were in a relationship, because when he’d pick up whatever he was cooking with his chopsticks, and blowing on it so he could feed it to you and get your opinion, you couldn’t help but feel how domestic it was, especially if you managed to get sauce on your face somewhere and he’d clean it off with a napkin.

And then somewhere between your own mental breakdown from stressing out over everything and Joshua one day telling you he’s getting married, Mingyu also dropped the news he’d be leaving at the end of the month to Japan to pursue a cooking career which turned your life upside down and you went out of your way to shut him out so the goodbye could be easier. It worked some days, like when you agreed to open or close at work so you wouldn’t bump into him and joining a couple of study groups so you wouldn’t outright fail your classes and even accompanied Joshua to see the caterers that interested him the most. You’d be so tired at night, Mingyu wouldn’t even cross your mind as your head hit the pillow and your eyes closed involuntarily and you brought your blanket as close to your face as you could. And some days, it felt impossible because a piece of Mingyu always seemed to be everywhere: the grocery store, the gym you passed by on your way home, the park and you could recall the details, even the insignificant ones like Mingyu tying tying his shoe and jumping in surprise at the bee that flew in his face, mistaking him for a flower. (Could you blame the bee though? He bloomed fully with the light in his eyes and the clean smell from all the soaps and detergents and fabric softener he threw in the washer, and how beautiful he was to marvel at. You would’ve done the same thing.)

The leaves finally started changing their colors, the department stores breaking out the scarves for the cold weather, the coffee shops with their infamous pumpkin spiced everything, and the night crept in earlier with each passing day and yet, the warm weather remained as if not quite letting you let go of Mingyu either.

And even when the first day of autumn officially arrived with promises of rain in the forecast, you still sighed heavily and wondered when the summer would be over for you.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Joshua said on the other end of the line. “We’re still looking for homes and the person who owns the venue might be late.”

“You have three days until your wedding and-never mind. Be careful both of you. You have your key, right? Okay, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hung up and immediately went to your room to pick up the (overdue) library books as well as the ones neatly stacked up on the kitchen counter. You were thankful that the librarian working today was familiar with you and wouldn’t charge you the late fees and for that you were grateful.

This particular day brought the time of firsts. You woke up in the morning feeling well rested and okay, and when you opened your window, a cool breeze greeted you. You even checked the weather app, and for the first time in a long time, there was no rain scheduled in the forecast. With that, you burst into a sleeping Joshua’s room and announced the good news, and running out to search for your favorite slipper socks and blanket for the special occasion. You didn’t work and you had finally caught up in most of your classes so as a reward, you binge watched all your favorite movies with your roommate until he had to get ready for the final wedding preparations and hopefully find a place to live. He asked you to come with him, especially because the temperature rose and he found it difficult not to laugh at you for getting carried away but you declined, savoring the day until reality kicked in again. That happened sooner than expected when you saw your books and cursed yourself and gave in, switching out of your pajamas for a pair of shorts.

Chan snickered at you when you sheepishly handed him the books, and as part of the deal, handed him his favorite packet of gum in exchange for the override and after picking out new reads, saw you off with a sarcastic yet happy, “See you next time!” and stuck a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth and blew a bubble.

You hadn’t even been inside long but when you stepped out, you noticed the sky had turned a dark gray color. The cold air picked at your skin and you rubbed your hands up and down along your arms to keep warm. It wasn’t a long walk but you didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it. You stopped long enough to put the books into your backpack when you felt the raindrops...and you groaned. The one time you didn’t bring your umbrella and this happened. And you hated the meteorologist in charge of the Seoul weather for not doing their job properly. It fell long and hard with the pent up energy of not doing it sooner.

You had yet to get up but you didn’t have the strength to, feeling overwhelmed as if you had just experienced a betrayal. You were supposed to enjoy the change in climate, not suffocate in it. And just like that, it stopped…but not really. It still fell around you, but it wasn’t pelting you like before. You looked up to see none other than the Kim Mingyu shielding you and himself from the rain. He offered his hand to you, and you hesitantly took it as you stood up.

“What are you doing out here dressed like that? You’re gonna get sick.”

“I didn’t know it was gonna rain. I...had to turn in some books and got some new ones.”

“Doesn’t Joshua hyung take care of you?” The tone he used surprised you. It sounded bitter, almost angry even.

“Joshua had some stuff to do for the wedding,” you mumbled, staring at the wet ground. You didn’t doubt that a few minutes, it’d be pooling at your ankles and you knew that you had to leave. Fast.

“Oh.” He stayed quiet for a moment, but not making an effort to move. “I haven’t seen him lately but please tell him I’m sorry that I’m not gonna be able to attend the ceremony.”

“Mingyu-” You were at a loss for words. “He’s one of your best friends. You need to be there.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’d…” He struggled to say thoughts out, only to fail and choke on them. “I can’t go. He’s one lucky guy.”

You nodded. “I agree. It’s what he’s wanted.”

“Is it what you want though?” He asked.

“Huh?” You looked up at him in confusion. His eyes, often telling the stories of his emotions, stared at you intensely, and you wondered if for a moment, he could see the inside of your soul.

“Does he make you happy?”

“Well, yeah. Mingyu, he’s my best friend-”

“Do you know that he’s cheating on you?”

“What?”

“While you’re over here, probably coming down with a cold, he’s out with someone else. I saw them earlier. They were laughing and holding hands and kissing I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I can’t come to your wedding knowing that he’s gonna hurt you later in life and-”

And you laughed. So hard you cried and with those tears came all the emotions you’ve been repressing and you cried for everything and he held you with the arm that wasn’t holding the umbrella. “Mingyu…” you had to catch your breath before you could speak properly. “Mingyu, I’m not marrying Joshua.”

“Oh thank God you’ve come to your senses.”

“Mingyu, I never was. I could never, not even for all the money in the world. I love him, I really do, but not like that. Don’t you know that by now?”

“But you guys...are always doing things together...I heard you once when he called you about the flavor of cake you wanted...and how you’re always showing up everywhere together....”

“Mingyu, we’re roommates and friends. It has never gone beyond the platonic level.” Except for one drunken kiss you shared a long time ago, but it was a dare. You had witnesses. “We do a lot of things because it’s convenient for us too.” You took his hand and wrapped your pinkie around his. “He’s happy and I’m happy just the way we are.”

“So you’re not in love with him?” He wiped the last of your tears with his sleeve, looking hopeful.

“No...just you.” You dropped your gaze, not wanting to see his reaction, but wating to hear the rejection.

With that, he dropped the umbrella and took your face in his hands, not caring about getting wet. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “I thought, I thought-”

“It’s just you,” you assured him. “It’s always been you, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something as much as this.”

He finally closed the distance between you, enveloping you in a kiss with so much love, it left you breathless. “Let’s go home.”

Mingyu laughed as you stepped on him again but didn’t say anything. Since the band played at the reception, he hadn’t let you take a break and while you had gotten a little better, you still had a ways to improve. He kissed your cheek at the effort, and finally cut you some slack and returned to the table, holding your hand proudly the whole time.

The room was alive with music, the laughter and squeals of the children as they ran across the floor, some of them bumping into the dancers, the compliments of the place and the critiques of those family members who wouldn’t have been pleased even if the venue was made of gold, and still you looked around at everyone, the face of the married man who was still gonna be your best friend, to his friends and their dates, smiling at Vernon and his love, just because you knew their history and how his love denied they were together, even though you could see the Hansol’s ring around the neck, loud and clear for the public to see. (You could hear the conversation despite the noise. “I’m gonna smack you right now. Just walk away while you have a chance.”

“You need to let go of my hand first.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“Sucks. ‘Bye.”

“Chwe Hansol, come back and give me attention. I’m not done holding your hand.”)

As Joshua clinked his glass to get everyone’s attention, he caught your eye and smiled at you. He stated his speech about his move with you and even though many things had changed, things were relatively the same as well. He was uncertain about his future but one thing remained clear: with his love, he could face anything.

And you looked at Mingyu again, staring at you with a smile on his face, and you kissed him softly. Because as long as you had him, the world could hurl whatever it wanted at you.

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myfutureme88 · 4 years ago

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The Maya

This year has been a monumentally transformative engine that, coupled with quarantine, made it more effective as a tool because it allowed me the time, place and space (distance) to be introspective.

I remembered this documentary called, “Inner-Worlds, Outer-Worlds: Akasha.” There was a moment where we were shown a tree, which reminded me of a ‘live x-ray’ because instead of seeing the bark and the surface-details, we were instead shown a ‘map’ of energy flowing in and out of the tree.

The narrator stated that the Illusion that is reality appears so real to us, because the vibrating photons that make up the actual particles of energy that is the tree (and all other energy in, and around the tree) are moving slow enough that they are perceived collectively (rather than as individual and separate particles) as “Matter”, because our frame of reference is capturing the moment that the wave function of energy(the particle and wave are one and the same, they exist simultaneously so the energy is just another way of viewing the tree as a wave) collapses into a particle because of the actual act of a viewer’s observation, and thus the Material World suddenly is a colorful, texturized field where energy concentrates into the what we can then translate as collective concentrations of clouds of probabilities that our eyes can’t understand as it is, so our brain translates that concentration of energy/information into objects, such as the tree, or even us.

Our minds, for the sake of us being built for survival, translates everything that our eyes can perceive in this manner. It happens so that we can be able to process the natural world and be better equipped to have evolved efficiently and effectively enough to maneuver in this 3-dimensional plane of existence. (avoiding danger / seeking out vital life giving requirements such as food/water)

In order for our brains to be able to do this as effectively as they do, a trade-off occurs. Our brains do not have the volume capacity or processing power to be able to absorb,analyze and produce all of the visual media in our field of view, so for the sake of it being ‘stuck’ trying to determine how to render ALL of the infinite amount of raw data around us, it ignores the layers and layers of the world that we can’t see.

This happens because of how small these particles are, and also, because the rate at which the particles vibrate (known as the ‘resonant frequency’), is happening much quicker than the eye can observe it happening)

*think of it as the frame stills that make up a motion picture movie, the individual frames are moving fast enough so that it gives the still-images the illusion of movement.

Due to this phenomenon, we accept totally and completely, the limitations that are inherent within us, we view energy not as a wave, but as fixed points suspended in an ever shifting matrix--but our eyes cannot possibly make sense of this, nor can it even perceive it happening on the scale it happens on.

With every gift is a curse, and with every curse, a gift. There is a duality to reality that is inherent in the nature of the fabric of existence. Two sides of the same coin--two angels that make up a vector. Those points appear to overlap and that overlay creates the projection of object permanence. (the property of materials so that our minds understand that an object stays intact and ‘real’ even if it is removed from our line of sight, it exists apart of us being able to witness it.)

We accept this duality as a single event due to our physical limitations and survival requirements it is determined that this is the most efficient method of handling all of the rendering our brains do so we can witness the world as our eyes absorb it.

The ‘curse’ is that by evolving to process information in this way, everything that is instantaneously determined to not be vital, or information that is not perceivable due to the immense tiny nature of the sub atomic world, is deemed as noise, or it just simply cannot be perceived.

Over time this creates a situation in which brains have become hard-wired to be keenly aware of patterns. Patterns are like readily stored stencils that our brains are trained to recognize quicker so we can be even more immersed in this field of energy manifesting itself as matter. Yet, we can understand now the illusion of Matter,(objects that exist in matrix of our field of vision that have intrinsic properties unique to the phases: gas, liquid, solid, plasma and otherwise,that matter ‘likes’ to manifest itself in) It is an illusion because these particles are ‘vibrating’ and the rate at which they dance determines how it will group together and be rendered as, however when we try to look deeper, we find that the energy cannot be seen at it’s smallest particle--and further more, it is not alive, so where is this vibration coming from? There is nothing there moving it, yet everything in the universe is being ‘moved’ by ‘something’.

Thus we are biased in our observations, we need to remind ourselves not everything is all it appears to be, for example, there are curves, densities, shadows, angels that give this entire illusion ‘life’ by rendering depth into it, so this ‘object’ that is spinning it’s make-up (which at it’s core is really just best understood as a cloud of probability that exists in the physical plane) It must be understood that energy exists in a state referred to ‘super position’ which means that if you were to try to look for the exact location of this probability cloud, you will not find it, you can only predict where it can both be and not be simultaneously. And this duality of both existing and not existing is both indistinguishable and inseparable from it’s identity which is really just the way an object manifests on the 3-d plane. So we are seeing clouds of probabilities acting as if they exist, but they simultaneously do not exist in the location we are perceiving it to be rendered from. It is as if everything is a projection of some sort, projecting itself into the simultaneous projection that exists as the universe.

the information collapses into an object, but the raw data is still rendered in the final cut of the manifestation. example above, the geometry that manifests in nature, we also see sacred geometry in the sunflower arrangement, the shells of sea animals and much more.

Our minds must never do ourselves the disservice of not adding this information back into the visual representation that we are instantaneously gifted with while our eyes are opened and absorbing the world as we can filter the light through our eyes and into their appropriate synapses to produce information we translate as visual sight.

I’ve spent a good majority of my life needing to keep a zone of safety near me at all times because of the fear that I would be overloaded by factors that haven’t manifested yet, either it would be fear, self-loathing, anticipation, the suffering that comes from desire and all the other forms the illusion will manifest itself to hide inside of itself the source of it’s creation:it’s identity as a vehicle of transporting an emotion. We as human beings then catalogue the emotion into a pattern we call language, which by definition, limits the possibility of what the illusion can be by us only being able to identify it by what we see and translate the object to be as it relates to this collective--the object’s ‘name’/identity. A tree can only be a tree because it is a tree, therefore the infinite possible variations for objects collapse into one possible shape--a tree. To name it is to negate it, to collapse the field into a state slow enough to be contained long enough to create a resonance in us that we morph by sound. So much information is lost in this translation that we have forgotten the layers of the unseen that is the real reality.

It makes our ability to gouge the efficiency of our own cognition, to work at such a lower frame rate that we are in essence, accepting the illusion and shortening the energy into bursts that over time hurt us, because an object exists as a beacon, as a pulse in the matrix as a collective of swirling probability, the math then outfits itself with the translation we choose in the moment the wave collapses.

I negated an entire universe every second my eyes are opened, I choose a narrow band to live out my reality in and eventually accept the flavors of probability that this swatch has pre-loaded, i.e the cycles we find ourselves mixed up in so often in the scope of our days, weeks, months e.t.c. until we ‘do the work’ which is ambiguosly refered to as a floating noun(person/place/thing) probability variable (the cycle of sadness, or the cycle of pain)

The work refers to us being able to access the state of existence that reality is really, at it’s core, and in abundance, and create micro-shifts in time-space to access the deeper pockets of swatch selections.

If I see less patterns that perpetuate to me the familiarity of my environment being a place I recognize ( example, I am peering out the window of a train as it speeds past a station I am familiar with, my eyes will recognize the cumilitive clouds of collapsing probabilities as ‘mineola’ station. It isn’t until we piece the narrative together that we weave the moment of recognition into reality(oh I saw this, and this, and this. therefore, I believe this is Jamaica train station because ‘this wall’ is associated with a location I know to be in that area.)

The more we think we know, the more we limit the world. This arrogance comes with a price. You will never see all the signals available there to assist you in navigating more effectively through this crowded matrix of clouds of dense possibilities where we like to loop our familiar emotions, no matter how played out, over and over again. Because beauty is the easiest universal law and the only absolute truth. But beauty being an absolute( a law that is uniform, beauty is the moment of recognition from observing a pattern we translated as having the quality of ‘beautiful’ for it’s near-instant recognition of it. ) But we accept it with the a curse ( beauty is a gift, the curse is the shadows and vectors that this projection carries behind itself like the tail of a comet, a cloud of probabilities that allow for further customization but those controls are tucked into itself for a more neat and instant representation of the material world to be readily available for our filters to generate the illusion for the efficiency of survival. But we must chose to thrive rather than to just live, so we ‘look’ ‘deeper’ ironic because those two words can also be applied to the same way we will ‘see’ the tail of this probability comet, not with our eyes but with the law of beauty and the knowledge that all things are dual, and that the trade off for beauty is that it is cropped, the ugly is simply attached to a portion of the object of beauty that we cannot see from this ‘perspective.’

We cannot simply accept our role as passive observers because we are far from that, it only appears that we are passive because we inherit the limitations of the trade off of maneuvering in a 3-d world, that our scope of filtering out raw data as a whole is limited by the engine that renders an object into a particle from its wave probability--aka the very exact ‘moment’ of collapse, we are the ‘collapsers’ our folding of the data in over itself to render it in this matrix.

We are the wardens of our prisons, our world is the illusion we chose to occupy first in our choice to collapse the universe into that cycle of pallets we identify with the familiar emotions associated with them: pain and suffering. We chose, in every moment even if we can’t grasp that we do have a choice, by giving up the ability to see the choice, we accept the default and superficial illusion as is. We tuck ourselves into a suffocating cycle we make harder for us to reach out of.

So the age old, ‘the mind first, the body follows’ is a very valid and densely packed sentence that has layers of nutritious food-for-the-soul reminders in it.

We can move faster or slower than the illusions around us, but as long as we do not vibrate at the frame rate that the illusion is wanting to be rendered in, we can elude it’s echo into cycling itself around us.

There is a duality to us too-- we are a conscious projection of probability made up in the flavor of a ‘give/take’ energy. The choice of which is the curse or gift, the give, or the ‘take’ depends on what we choose to collapse the matrix around us to pair us up with at the moment, we never, however, cognitively understand this as a choice because it exists faster than our eyes can capture it collapsing.

This is why the ancients said love is a tool, it is just the name, the flavor of the ‘give’ energy, which comes out of us to flow outwards when we are vibrating at a higher resonance. The take, is another term for the feeling that manifests differently for everyone translating it into a feeling we understand and identify as.. usually it is an emptiness, it is a void that needs to be filled constantly yet this hunger can never be satisfied because it is not a fixed state to arrive at, it is simply an intersection that exists only to feel carry the void inside itself. We create the cell and the torture we chose to punish ourselves with, by subconsciously choosing to think in terms of thoughts that make us vibrate in a resonance that will only attract more of this type of energy as cycles we experience over and over until we choose to love again.

The curse of our existence is the take energy. We are manifested as biological beings hard-wired for survival, not ‘thrival’ so remember, survival is max-efficiency, low energy output.. this is a self-limiting vehicle engineered to be easily distracted by a slow rate of resonance so we can function in a 3-d world without being overloaded by stimuli we can’t possibly process that much of instantly ( we only absorb a small amount of the data we are actually seeing, in fact there is a phenomenon where the brain actually engineers the illusion to simply ‘correct’ what you’re seeing--for example, look at your nose. Your eyes are spaced out just so that there is a blind spot right over your nose, but your eyes overlay vision in the cortex in such a way that that blind spot appears to be filled in by repeated data from the opposite eye, ex: instead of creating a point at which two lines intersect, we can create a similar structure to mimic it : x and )(, the overlay we are seeing is the curve of the image reflected by the other eye.) (the nose is the point at which those vectors intersect, but our eyes cannot ‘see’ it, so the brain corrects it so we can process information without the distraction of a delay, because a delay in a world of ‘fight-or-flight’ evolution meant a lag, and a lag meant a disadvantage, and that use to mean certain death in a world where the matrix we live in can manifest into a universe of probable scenarios that are unfolding, collapsing, dying--both being and not being--until you choose the way it collapses into the collective illusion we understand to be reality.

I leave you with this, “ take what you need, leave the rest.” Don’t ever be mad at the data, it is just raw, untapped, potential energy. Be a creator, stop being a taker. Accept your responsibility as the creator of your universe by stop neglecting the duality of reality, you leave the probability to random and you give away your power. You are only as sad as you want to be, happy as you want to be, you are who and what you wish to be--in every moment, in every function--we choose, either by defaulting our power away and resorting to entering that intersection of overloading ourselves with enough lag to feel the illusion of the ‘weight of emptiness’ or we can we active and resonate higher by accepting, by removing the friction of desire, when you desire, you actually push away the item you want, creating the resulting and lingering flavor left over that we translate as desire, or want.

Stop wanting, start giving, give your universe the chance to be. or take your seat in silence, when you GIVE you actually receive, and when you TAKE you actually repel. The thing you are taking is all an illusion, you are essentially pouring nothing into a cup and expecting it to kill the thirst you manifest to torture yourself to distract yourself long enough to linger in these cycles we find ourselves in our lives in.

True power is in the giving up of power, because one only has no power when he reaches out his hand to grasp power, because he CHOOSES to manifest himself in the reality that the power was not IN his hand in the FIRST place. That was never offered to you because this is the hidden choice menu that we give up being able to see in order to not experience the lag of the 3-d world.

Free yourself from mental slavery. Give yourself the love you yearned for but didn’t know was possible or that it could exist. Manifest it and it is yours.

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ca1e70-deactivated · 5 years ago

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a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:

name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity

im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years.

i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)

whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)

ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might “develop it in my twenties” which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS

i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like “why dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champ” and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritism

the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went “huh free game” because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid.

im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsis

i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*’s city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years later

i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth “beth” davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.

talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves “lying” or “hiding things” from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his “rap career”)

every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best.

one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went “she has potential, you know.” then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile “lots of it” and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)

theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever.

he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.

i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment)

im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OH

hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.

ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.

the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair.

he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going.

THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY

#theres probably so many more i mean #ive been on parp for at least 5-6 years now #ive been on cherubplay probably the same amount of time #and my memory is totally shot to fuck but these are just what i know ive done in the last YEAR #or thought were wild enough to remember #i put it under a read more bc frankly its really fucking long #and i dont want this to represent me entirely #these are also heavily situational based and not like. emotion or reaction based much?#some of them are #i guess i could rename this to like. things ive done on parp #but theyre technically still headcanons a lot of them can coincide with whatever #so theyre not very specific situations #anyways #this took me an hour

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dwindledglow · 5 years ago

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001. MEET ISLA

FULL NAME: isla renee monroe. PREFERRED NAME: isla. NICKNAME/S: is. DATE OF BIRTH: may 15th, 1993. GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis female & she/her. ORIENTATION: hetero. RELIGION: agnostic. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: engaged to kendrick parker. OCCUPATION: sports agent, ceo of monroe corporation and actress. RESIDENCE: montauk, east hampton.

002. CHECK ISLA’S BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: quebec, canada. NATIONALITY: canadian and american. ETHNIC BACKGROUND: hungarian and canadian. LINGUISTICS: french and english which are her native languages, spanish, german, portuguese and italian in a fluent level and she can lead a conversation in japanese. EDUCATION: she attended university of birmingham where she got her BSc in physiotherapy and, later, she attended queen mary university of london where she got her MSc in sports and exercise medicine. CRIMINAL RECORD: despite some mishaps along the way and almost being charged for public lewdness and, later, having allegedly assaulted a paparazzo — which was settled in a deal, isla has a clean record. BIRTH ORDER: first. FATHER: lawrence jude monroe, born on may 19th, 1966 in toronto, canada, passed away on august 11th, 2006 in los angeles, california. lawrence was a high-profile hockey player and the founder of monroe corporation. MOTHER: audrey gabrielle kelly, née jones, born on october 29th, 1968 in montecito, california, residing in los angeles, california and working as a communication and media teacher at the university of southern california though she used to be a successful sports reporter. SISTER/S: elizabeth sophia kelly, born on june 8th, 2002 in malibu, california, residing in los angeles, california where she also studies. she’s one of two children audrey had in a second marriage, making her isla’s half-sister. BROTHER/S: anthony dean kelly, born on april 7th, 2000 in malibu, california, residing in los angeles, california where he also studies. he’s the first born of audrey’s second marriage and, thus, isla’s half-brother. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: kendrick parker. CHILDREN: bella nicole parker, born on june 9th, 2018 in montauk, new york. zoe eliza parker, born on june 9th, 2018 in montauk, new york. kyd lawrence parker, born on january 14th, 2020 in montauk, new york. OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: none. EX/ES: joseph taylor. PETS: gliss and qana, two french bulldogs and brooklyn, an english bulldog.

003. GET UP CLOSE & PERSONAL

HEIGHT: 5′5″ or 168 cm. WEIGHT: between 117 lbs or 53 kg and 125 lbs or 57 kg. BODY BUILD: isla has a naturally willowy and curvy frame, something in between a hourglass shape and the classic supermodel-rectangle one — leaning more towards the first. she's not overly slim but she has the average weight for her height, and she has curves in the right places. her body isn't the most defined but she has a toned frame and she has more lean muscle than fat. isla has a big bust — 32C —, a flat stomach and long legs. EYE COLOR: she has cerulean blue eyes but, on occasion and depending on the light, they might look a grey-ish blue. EYESIGHT: whereas isla doesn't have any kind of issue like miopia or astigmatism, she has severe eye fatigue. she can get away without wearing anything but for activities that demand a lot of focus, such as reading, and when it comes to spending time in front of a laptop, as well as reading or watching television at night or in places where the light isn't the best, she needs glasses to stop her vision from going blurry. HAIR COLOR & STYLE: naturally, her hair is more of a caramel brown shade but, currently, it’s more of a chocolate brown shade. appearance and the way she portrays herself is very important for isla due to her career both as a sports agent / ceo of a world renown company and as an actress. naturally, her hair is straight and when the girl is in a rush, she opts for keeping it that way, using few products and a straightener to sleek it back. when she has the time, she prefers to spend some time making loose, beach waves or a few loose ringlets so there's some volume to her hair. if she's home or off-duty, she'll not waste much time on it and will often try to get her hair out of the way by throwing it on a ponytail or some kind of messy bun. if she has events, she likes to mix it up and often leaves the more elaborate hair styles to a trusty stylist. DOMINANT HAND: right. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: her electric blue eyes paired with her angular facial features and plump lips are, perhaps, the most notable characteristic when it regards isla. there's almost a vintage quality to her features, something outstanding and that distinguishes her from other girls — and most people, in general — out there. likewise, her willowy figure is one of her most obvious, notable appearance features. SCARS AND MARKS: she has a few scars here and there, courtesy of her clumsy moments, but it’s nothing major or particularly noticeable. other than that, she has a few notable moles spread out on her tummy. TATTOOS: she has a small knife with a rose lying atop of it on her left hip — reference —, she has nineteen tattooed in cursive on the side of her left hand, her dad's favorite number, and she has I of III on her right ankle — a matching tattoo she's got with her two siblings. she has a b behind her right ear and a z behind her left ear, respectively representing her and kendrick’s daughter’s bella and zoe. PIERCINGS: she has her regular lobes pierced. VOICECLAIM: barbara palvin. ACCENT & INTENSITY: to this day, and in spite of having lived a good portion of her life between los angeles, new york and england, isla still has her quebec accent intact and it's still as distinctive and as intense as it has always been. ALLERGIES: lactose intolerant, white chocolate, vanilla. PHOBIAS & FEARS: solitude and oblivion. MENTAL & PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: she has rhinitis. ALCOHOL USE: in social situations, she does drink. SMOKING: she stopped smoking ever since she started trying to get pregnant. NARCOTICS USE: not anymore. when she was younger ( read from fourteen to sixteen ) she did heavier drugs such as heroin, ecstasy, shrooms and cocaine and she used to smoke weed and, occasionally, do adderall to focus during college. INDULGENT FOOD: occasionally, when she’s down in the slumps or having major cravings. SPLURGE SPENDING: it doesn’t happen often, it’s rare for isla to lose her mind and splurge. GAMBLING: no, never.

004. DIG DEEPER

CAN THEY DRIVE? yes, she can drive. CAN THEY COOK & BAKE? yes and ish. CAN THEY CHANGE A FLAT TIRE? yes. CAN THEY TIE A TIE? yes. CAN THEY SWIM? yes. CAN THEY RIDE A BICYCLE? yes. CAN THEY JUMP START A CAR? yes. CAN THEY BRAID HAIR? yes. CAN THEY PICK A LOCK? yes. EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED? extroverted. DISORGANIZED OR ORGANIZED? organized. CLOSE OR OPEN MINDED? open minded. CALM OR ANXIOUS? calm. PATIENT OR IMPATIENT? in-between. OUTSPOKEN OR RESERVED? outspoken. LEADER OR FOLLOWER? leader. OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? a balance of both. TRADITIONAL OR MODERN? modern. HARD-WORKING OR LAZY? hard-working. CULTURED OR UNCULTURED? cultured. LOYAL OR DISLOYAL? loyal. FAITHFUL OR UNFAITHFUL? faithful. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? a balance of both, leaning more towards night owl. HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER? not heavy, nor light. an in-between. COFFEE OR TEA? coffee. DAY OR NIGHT? night. TAKING BATHS OR SHOWERS? showers. COCA COLA OR PEPSI? neither. CATS OR DOGS? dogs. NETFLIX OR CINEMA? cinema. SHOWS OR MOVIES? movies. LAPTOP OR GAMING CONSOLE? laptop. HEALTHY OR JUNK FOOD? healthy food. ICE CREAM OR FROZEN YOGURT? frozen yogurt. PIZZA OR HAMBURGER? hamburger. LOLLIPOPS OR GUMMY WORMS? neither. BEACH OR POOL? beach. SNOWBALLS FIGHTING OR ICESKATING? both. LITERATURE OR SCIENCE? science. HISTORY OR ART? art. CHOCOLATE BARS OR COTTON CANDY? chocolate bars. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION? playstation. FACE-TO-FACE OR PHONE INTERACTIONS? face-to-face interactions. DRAMA OR SCI-FI? drama. HORROR OR COMEDY? horror.

005. ISLA’S FAVORITES

FAVORITE ACTIVITY: working out. FAVORITE ANIMAL: caracal. FAVORITE BOOK: requiem for a dream by hubert shelby jr. FAVORITE COLOR/S: black and red. FAVORITE CUISINE: mexican and spanish cuisines. FAVORITE DISH/ES: poutine, nachos, tacos, huevos rancheros, chili, paella, gazpacho and fideuà. FAVORITE DRINK/S: watermelon lemonade, caipirinha and margarita. FAVORITE FLOWER/S: lotus, yellow hibiscus and plumerias. FAVORITE GEM: ruby. FAVORITE MOVIE: it’s only the end of the world, although she loves anything by xavier dolan. FAVORITE SONG: sleep on it by gallant. FAVORITE SCENT/S: peaches, the scent of the earth after it rained, lavender and leather. FAVORITE SHOW/S: how to get away with murder and scandal. FAVORITE SPORT/S & TEAM THEY SUPPORT: basketball, american football, hockey, baseball, soccer and volleyball. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR: summer. VACATION DESTINATION: vaadhoo, maldives.

#── ✰. ┊ isla : — HEADCANON. ❜

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mohini-musing · 5 years ago

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Lost in the Noise

Chasing Ghosts universe

The backpack is stocked with all the necessities for navigating the crowds in summer heat – water bottles, sunscreen, lip balm, and a bottle of CBD oil because Steve thinks it’s a good substitute for Tasha’s usual calming options. James humors him. Mostly because if he hears one more statistic on the benefits of natural remedies over chemical compounds, his brain is going to dissolve and run out his ears. You would think they were heading out with a pack of children rather than three fully, well, fine semi-functional adult shaped humans. Particularly when Steve tosses a handful of fruit gummies and chewy granola bars in the mix. James refrains from pointing out that none of them are going to want the sugary treats in 95+ degrees of too damn hot.

Taking Tasha to events like this is something akin to trying to keep up with a herd of cats after they’ve bathed in catnip and consumed a half dozen Red Bulls. She turns in dizzying circles from giggly and happy as a little kid to terrified because someone brushes against her. There’s no predicting what it will be, and James would be very happy to hole up in the house and swear off these family adventures altogether.

He can’t though, because Pride is a thing. A crowded, drunken, overwhelming thing that Steve feels very strongly is an obligation to attend. James is just grateful that he doesn’t feel the same way about the upcoming 4th of July downtown debacle.

Tasha emerges from her room in what might be the most reasonable attire he’s ever seen her in or the most outlandish. Tiny denim shorts and a tshirt that reads: I am the one your parents warned you about. James cocks an eyebrow in question and she grins back at him.

“Accurate, right?” she giggles.

Fantastic, James thinks. She’s already blitzed. He’d like to point out she’s being an idiot. Instead, he smiles and agrees with her. Sometimes it’s just easier that way. He looks up to see Steve lifting an eyebrow in question as he cocks his head toward Tasha. James shrugs. Surely this doesn’t come as a shock anymore. His kid sister is trouble in a very pretty package. Steve shakes his head and rummages in the cabinet for a package of what look suspiciously like baby wipes to add to the mix in the backpack.

They pile into the car and make the short trek to the festival, parking in an overpriced lot near a church. There’s some really special irony in that one, James muses as he stands in line to pay the automated lot kiosk. The walk to the festival area is a quick enough one, but keeping track of Tasha is definitely going to be an adventure. She’s hopping around and balancing on raised edges of sidewalk like a little kid. Her pupils are wide despite the glaring sun and James spots the telltale twitch at her jaw as she begins grinding her teeth. She’s rolling. Lovely. It’s 400 degrees outside, and she picked a drug bound to make her dehydrated.

“Oooh! Shiny!” Tasha squeals and bolts to a tent filled with rainbow flags and gemstone necklaces. She’s petting a necklace within seconds, picking out a set of earrings to go with, and heading for the vendor to claim her prize. A quick swipe of a credit card later and they’re off again, James gripping Tasha by the hand in hopes of keeping her from getting away.

That turns out to be the least of his worries.

Free Mom Hugs the sign reads, and James knows they mean well. It’s such a kind gesture, really. There are people wearing shirts emblazoned with everything from Free Mom Hugs to Free Fist Bumps and all sorts of options in between. He spots Free Pastor Hugs on a tall and powerfully built man in clerical collar and Free Bro Hugs on a kid with hemp cargo shorts and dreadlocked hair.

James vaguely remembers seeing this movement on social media. It’s pretty amazing, really. The idea that people are going out to Pride and offering some love to someone who needs to be told they’re a valid human. It’s not really his thing, hugging a stranger, but from the looks on some of the people holding tight to the free huggers, it’s a thing bringing serious joy to people whose thing it is.

“Jamie! Hugs!” Tasha squawks, and she’s off and launching herself at the pastor before James can pull her away.

James braces for the hugfest to go seriously south, but Tasha returns to them after cuddling nearly everyone within reach grinning like a maniac. Steve looks like he’s trying to decide what kind of alternate reality they’ve wandered into. The kind where miracles actually happen, James decides when Tasha bounds back to them happy as can be. She hops into his arms and he picks her up like a kid while she wraps her legs around his waist and hold on. Her breath is warm against his neck but it’s the tremble in her core that concerns him. She’s smiling, but she’s also vibrating. Happy, but much, much too high.

When she returns her feet to the ground, it’s to lead them into the main festival area, a crowded knot of booths and grassy pathways. Everything from the local clerical organizations to bars seems to be handing out rainbow swag, and before long the backpack is filled to brimming with all manner of goodies. James doesn’t want to think about the flavored lube Tasha collects in every color of the rainbow, nor the tube of ”no, seriously, it’s sunscreen” Steve gathered from the health department.

It’s when Tasha comes to a sudden stop that it all goes to hell. The foster agency they were both placed with has a booth. It’s filled with photos of smiling kids and bright posters about making a difference for youth. James grabs her and steers her the other direction as quickly as he can, hoping he’s intervened before her good mood can go careening off into the land of so much not good.

She blinks at him and mutters that she wants a drink now. He’d argue, but he wouldn’t turn one down himself. Steve’s fast to take charge, tugging them both toward the alcohol vendors. He all but shoves them into chairs at the first table they pass and calls back that he has drinks handled. He’s a keeper, James thinks when he returns with two beers in his pockets and a pair of very fruity scented vodka laden travesties for Tasha. She downs round one in seconds, and Steve puts a second in front of her with a murmured encouragement to maybe breathe a little.

Drink number two does the job and they resume festival exploration with Tasha’s good mood intact. They don’t go back toward the information tents, veering instead into the area with the music stages. There’s a drag show running full tilt at one and something that looks dangerously like karaoke at another. They wander into a couple more vendors and spend far too much on CBD oil lip balm, various lotions, and a good number of items Tasha declares to be shiny and fun.

It’s unspeakably hot, and even though James has spent more than his share of time in 120+ degrees, he’s completely done with this thing within a couple hours. Tasha is, too, if her increasingly unsteady steps are anything to go by. He squeezes her shoulder and leans down to ask if she’s ready to head home. She nods, and he notes that her face is somehow both red with heat and pale beneath flushed cheeks.

The car is boiling, and Steve turns it on and blasts the AC before he lets anyone get in. James has the good sense to put Tasha in the front, but her steadily wilting demeanor doesn’t give him much confidence that it’s going to help their fate. They’re barely in the driveway when she hiccups, a hand pulling sluggishly toward her lips.

“Dammit, not in the car, Tasha!” Steve grunts, reaching across her and shoving the door open with one hand while James grabs her shoulders and shifts her toward to open space. They manage it before sour vodka cocktail erupts from her lips.

“Gross,” she whines when she’s finished.

“No arguments there,” James replies, tugging her to her feet and guiding her around the puddle of sick.

Steve’s bounding along in front of them to get the door, which he holds open while James all but carries Tasha over the threshold.

“Don’t feel good,” she tells him.

“Thanks for that enlightening tidbit,” he shoots back. He wants to lecture her for being an idiot, but instead he guides her into the little hall bathroom. The floor is bare, but she doesn’t seem to notice the cold linoleum on her knobby knees as she curls up hugging the seat of the toilet. Her breathing is ragged and pitiful.

James pats her between her shoulder blades, telling her he’s there and it will pass. He doesn’t tell her it’s going to be okay. It won’t, probably never will, because this is where Tasha goes every time she hurts, or spooks, or get angry, or is uncomfortable in any way she’d rather not feel. A part of him knows she’s not so much a recreational user as a functional sort of addict, but it’s a truth he doesn’t want to acknowledge today. Maybe not any day. He’ll keep cleaning her up until she’s ready to do it on her terms.

#chasing ghosts universe #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #james barnes #veteran bucky barnes #amputee bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #foster care - age out #AU - foster care siblings #pride month #drug use #alcohol #emeto #hurt/comfort

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filmmakersvision · 6 years ago

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Top 10 Hindi Films of 2018

January 13, 2019

by Inakshi Chandra-Mohanty

1. October

October is like poetry unfolding on screen. An amalgamation of visual pleasure, a heart-warming score, and some of the strongest, most emotional performances of the year, this film is the definition of beauty. With an extremely simple plot, October thrives on the humorous antics of the eccentric Dan (Varun Dhawan) as he develops an unspoken bond with Shiuli (Banita Sandhu). As the trailer stated, it’s not a love story, but instead a story of love. There is the love between mother and daughter, which is tested time and again as the mother (Gitanjali Rao) is pushed by her brother-in-law to take Shiuli off the ventilator. And on the other hand, there are the selfless emotions that Dan has for Shiuli. His feelings for her are never explained, while what she feels for him can never be known. There is so much more to explore in the film, so many more nuances to touch on, which is why it is the best film of the year.

2. Tumbbad

“So jaa varna hastar aa jayega.” When children cry at night, mothers say phrases like this interchanging the villain (for example, Gabbar Singh), to make the children go to sleep. It has become such a popular phrase in the media, that the Tumbbad writers used it as the catchphrase of their film. This mythological horror fantasy film told in three phases, deserves to be recognized for being one of the most imaginative, surreal films made in Hindi cinema. A combination of frightening visual effects, a heart-racing background score, mindblowing cinematography, and creative storytelling, this film is about a man who encounters a mythological demon while searching for an ancient, hidden treasure in his ancestral ‘haveli’ (mansion) situated in the village of Tumbbad. Behind this unique storyline, is a very basic concept of greed in human nature. However, the film manages to present it in a fresh way. The best aspect of this film is the fact that it is a pure entertainer, which is commercially viable. The regular Indian film-going audience would love this film, if they were taken to see it. Unfortunately there is no known name associated with the film, therefore most of this audience has not even heard of the film, let alone gone to see it.

3. Mukkabaaz

Though many people characterize Mukkabaaz as a film about boxing and the hardships sports players in India face, I believe that it is at its core a love story. The heroine, Sunaina Mishra (Zoya Hussain), is the driving force behind the hero, Shravan Kumar Singh’s (Vineet Kumar Singh), passion for boxing. The first time he sees her he rebels against his good-for-nothing, but powerful coach, Bhagwan Das Mishra (Jimmy Shergill), who also happens to be Sunaina’s uncle, in an attempt to impress her. Throughout the film, his motivations, his passion, and his support all derive from his love for her. And even his decision at the end of the film is for the safety and happiness of Sunaina. His passion for boxing is secondary to his love for his wife, which is proven again and again by his actions. Mukkabaaz is Anurag Kashyap’s first attempt at creating a love story and is much better than his latest film, Manmarziyan, which after a certain point, becomes frustrating. Not only is Mukkabaaz a fresh and unique love story, but it also contains elements of Anurag Kashyap’s trademark style, so no true Anurag Kashyap fan will leave the film feeling disappointed.

4. Andhadhun

For many critics and audience members, Andhadhun is being lauded as the film of the year. It is no doubt a great film. The writing is intelligent for the most part, the direction is crisp, and the performances are phenomenal. But in my opinion it is fourth on this list primarily because I viewed it less in comparison to the other films of this year, and more in the context of Sriram Raghavan’s body of work. If compared to his other films, Andhadhun is closest in style and storytelling format to Johnny Gaddaar. Both are told as flashbacks. Both begin with a small mistake spiraling out of control. Both are an ode to 60s and 70s Bollywood crime capers. Both have elements characteristic of a neo-noir. And both are extremely intelligent edge-of-the-seat thrillers, with twists and turns at every moment keeping the suspense high. However, Johnny Gaddaar has a far tighter script than Andhadhun, especially in the second half where Andhadhun becomes slower and slightly less interesting due to the introduction of less entertaining characters. Therefore, Andhadhun is still one of the best films of the year, but my love for Johnny Gaddaar prevents me from rating it higher on this list.

5. Raazi

Bias is the biggest weakness of any film based off of real events. The director’s most difficult obstacle is to not let his/her own views reflect on the objectiveness of the story, while still keeping the emotions intact. With Raazi, Meghna Gulzar has so brilliantly manipulated the audience into empathizing with every character in the film, regardless of nationality, therefore feeling patriotism regardless of country. After watching this film, you won’t hate Pakistan, nor will you hate India. You will just hate war altogether. Everyone will leave the theater feeling patriotic with no specific country in mind. Raazi follows the character Sehmat (Alia Bhatt), the daughter of an Indian spy, who gets married to a Pakistani military officer, Iqbal Syed (Vicky Kaushal), in order to gather information on the Pakistani military plans during the Indo-Pakistani War of 1971. Sehmat is such a well-written character with multiple dimensions. On one side, she is bound by her patriotism towards India, and the promises she has made to her father. And on the other hand, her growing love and affection for her husband and his family comes in the way of her mission. Ultimately, she is torn between these two and can no longer distinguish between right and wrong. There are very few films, which explore so many emotions and so many different sides to an issue with minimum bias, and Raazi is one of them.

6. Mulk

In the current times, when the Hindu-Muslim animosity is still fatal, and when anti-Muslim hatred is spreading widely throughout the world, a film like Mulk is essential. The film explores the backlash and ostracization Muslims face from Hindus and even from their own community, when the word terrorism is applied to a member of their family. After his nephew, Shahid Mohammed (Prateik Babbar), turns to terrorism, it is up to a respected advocate Murad Ali Mohammed (Rishi Kapoor) and his daughter in law Aarti Mohammed (Taapsee Pannu) to reclaim their family’s honor and fight for their prestige, as the whole family is prosecuted in court on charges of terrorism. The issues discussed in Mulk are tackled with sensitivity and minimum bias by writer-director Anubhav Sinha, and are made to resonate with the audience through the poignancy of the film. The film is not a landmark film, but it is an important one and hopefully it will allow people to gain a broader understanding of the type of anti-Muslim hatred that plagues the country.

7. Laila Majnu

It is very difficult to recreate a timeless, epic love story in a period where in film, practicality and realistic situations have begun to take over the classic notion of love. Making people believe in the intensity of emotions and craziness of love is a complicated task. The plot of Laila Majnu is a basic love story, boy meets girl, they fall in love, and their family enmity causes obstacles in the path towards their union. The first half is full of clichés yet remains fresh because of the new faces, the beautiful music, and the strong chemistry between the leads. However, it is the daring second half, when we see the love being torn apart, where Majnu’s separation from Laila causes him to succumb to depression, that makes this film worthy of being on this list.

8. Stree

After Bhool Bhulaiyaa, here is another brilliant horror comedy that has truly left the audience frightened by some scenes but has also managed to make them laugh extremely hard in others. A town is terrorized by a woman, called Stree (Flora Saini), who abducts men, leaving their clothes behind, and Vicky (Rajkumar Rao) attempts to solve this mystery and rid the town of ‘Stree’ forever. The three male leads, Rajkumar Rao, Aparshakti Khurrana, and Abhishek Banerjee, as well as Pankaj Tripathi have impeccable comic timing, which is supported by the hilarious dialogues. And yet the film still lives up to its role as a horror comedy since it is filled with scary moments and jump scares, the essence of which are not affected by the comedy. Stree is an overall entertainer, and its box office success is proof of that.

9. Pari

Pari was harshly criticized by film critics and the audience because it promised a horror film, yet it was not scary. However, its approach at creating a unique universe and widening the imagination of the audience is commendable. Pari is the story of a man, Arnab (Parambrata Chatterjee), who takes in an apparent victim of abuse, Rukhsana (Anushka Sharma), after her mother is killed in an accident caused by his car. However, everything is not as simple as it seems and soon Arnab realizes he has been dragged into a very dark world filled with conspiracies and supernatural forces. The line between good and evil has been blurred, and he no longer knows whom to trust. Though not scary in the moment, it leaves people with nightmarish thoughts and goosebumps afterwards, as the concepts and characters, which are thoroughly developed, are quite frightening. It would have been on the same level of Tumbbad if not for the weak script that completely derailed in the second half. However, despite that, the film works, partly because of the daring to try something new, and the brilliant performances, especially by Anushka Sharma, which will continue to haunt you for days.

10. Blackmail

At the time of its release, this film went almost completely unnoticed, due to bad PR and few noticeable actors. When I went to see the film, there were only two people apart from me in the theater. However, this black comedy is such a hilariously entertaining film. A man, Dev Kaushal (Irfan Khan) returns home one day to find his wife, Reena (Kirti Kulhari), cheating on him, and instead of confronting her like any normal person would, his sadistic mind convinces him to anonymously blackmail her and her lover, Ranjit Arora (Arunoday Singh). What begins as a simple plan, turns into a convoluted game as Ranjit’s wife, Dolly Verma (Divya Dutta), an employee at Dev’s office, Dolly’s father, and a private detective get involved. Though I do believe that a lot more could have been done with the story to make more comedic situations using the unique characters, the film was still thoroughly engaging due to the witty dialogues and brilliant characterization, emphasized further by the amazing performances.

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sortasirius · 6 years ago

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Whiskey Burn

Pairing: Steve/Tony

Words: 1467

AN: I literally can’t stop being emo about Steve and Tony, so this is simultaneously an angsty Endgame fic and a fluffy 2012-esque fic.

As usual, threw it up on my AO3 here!

Steve didn’t like to drink. Generally, it made him feel foggy, disoriented, unlike himself.

He had heard once, from Tony, that being drunk made him funny and fun and removed the “stick up his ass.”But those occasions were few and far between, generally after a successful mission, a celebration of some kind. Those were the nights were they would order takeout, after the people in fancy suits and dresses had left, and they would sit around the sunken living room, the glittering New York skyline at their backs and they would just...talk.

Even after they left Avengers tower and moved to the compound in upstate New York, they would regularly eat dinner as a family. Tony would waltz in with ten pizzas from the city and would slam them down on the table, calling down the hall, “kids! Dinner!” Whoever was home for the time would gather in the media room (Tony insisted on a formal living room for entertaining guests, which meant that it was never used) and would play video games on the TV, eat, laugh, drink, the works. Steve always loved it when Tony would come to the compound, he always brought in a breath of air that Steve didn’t realize he had been longing for.

Steve almost never drank outside of these gatherings, and he certainly never drank when he was feeling sad. Not, at least, until Tony had snapped his fingers and saved the world at the cost of his own life. Steve had found a pristine bottle of Tony’s scotch in the rubble of the ruined compound, and had taken that as a sign that he needed a drink. Really, really bad.

Tony had told him once that drinking alone was the highest form of self care. He had been joking, but Steve decided to try it anyway. He waited until everyone had left the facility for the night. He had insisted on staying, in case there were any stragglers of Thanos’ army that hadn’t been turned to dust. Bucky and Sam had tried to stay with him, but Steve had insisted that they go stay at the hotel nearby that most everyone else was staying in. They had gone, reluctantly, maybe seeing that he was in desperate need of a minute to just breathe, without anyone else there to witness it.

He sat in the glowing florescent light of the underground barracks that had remained intact after the battle, staring at the golden colored liquid inside the bottle in his hands. His hands shook a little as he pulled off the wax sealing the bottle and took a swig. It burned and made him cough, but the heat that settled in his chest seemed to ease the knot of grief that was twisting like poisonous vines around his heart.

He remembered once, he thought it must have been Natasha’s birthday, they were sitting around, sprawled out on the floor and the couches and chairs, a fire crackling in the fancy fireplace, and Tony stood up, a tad unsteady on his feet and had proposed a drinking game. Steve had agreed enthusiastically, and the rest of the group had been almost astounded, but he had already had three shots of Thor’s space liquor and was feeling much, much less reserved than normal.

“Fuck yeah, Cap”, Tony had said, and he had, without further ado, grabbed two beat-up Gamecube controllers and had said, “Whoever loses at Smash takes a shot.”

It had turned into an almost all-night affair. Steve had gotten really spectacularly drunk and had called uncle when Natasha’s King Dedede had annihilated his Samus without taking any damage (mostly because Steve had wasted two lives by walking right off the ledge of the level).

They had all ended up stumbling off to bed at around four in the morning. Bruce was already groaning about his undeniable hangover, Clint and Natasha giggled all the way to Clint’s room, Thor, having drunk too much of his own liquor was singing “Jingle Bell Rock” under his breath, and Rhodey, trudging off to the room reserved for him when he visited, was cursing Tony for killing him in Smash one too many times. Steve and Tony were left in the living room, the fire the only light left in the room. Tony was, inexplicably, trying to clean up some of the mess left from the party. Steve had attempted to help, which had led to them banging into each other and laughing and then...

Steve tried to shake himself out of the memory, but the sound of Tony’s laughter and his breath on Steve’s neck was so strong he could physically feel it. He took another swig of the scotch, hoping it would drown out the memory with a different kind of heat, but then, the scotch was Tony’s. Unwillingly, he was sucked back into the memory of Tony’s hands locking around the collar of his pressed shirt and him whispering, half-slurred,

“Where did you get this shirt? Old Navy?”

Steve laughed, he could smell Tony’s cologne and gingerly reached out to touch the silk of his embroidered vest, having shed his suitcoat hours before.

“Not everyone can afford a two-thousand dollar suit, Tony,” Steve whispered, his hands grazing Tony’s own collar and the flushed skin of his neck.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Old Navy, I was gonna say you should wear these shirts more often,” Tony said leaning in to Steve, so they were almost nose to nose.

Steve remembered the way his breath had become erratic, matching his heart and Tony stretched up to kiss the shell of his ear.

“Tony,” he had whispered, half drunk on the alcohol and half drunk on the moment, on Tony himself.

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” said Tony, looking at Steve with seriousness written on his face.

“I-” Steve had wanted to unequivocally say yes, stop, we shouldn’t be doing this, but he didn’t mean it. So, instead of talking, he leaned down and kissed Tony. It was perfect, exactly what it should have been. Steve could taste the scotch on Tony’s tongue, and Tony’s fingers began to fiddle with the buttons on Steve’s shirt, and he began to pull him towards his own room-

Steve wrenched himself out of the memory, looking up at the too bright lights in the barracks, pretending that the sting of the lights were what was causing his eyes to water. Tony wasn’t there, even though he could feel his skittering touches lingering on his skin. Tony wasn’t there, even though he could taste Tony’s tongue in his mouth. Tony wasn’t there, because Tony had saved the Universe, and Steve was alone. Achingly, horribly alone, with nothing but a half-empty bottle of scotch and the promise of a hangover in the morning.

Instead of pushing the memories of Tony down, he let them come, memory after memory of fights, kisses, anger, laughter, and everything in between. The tears came more readily now, like a pool that had sprung a leak, a steady stream down his face. He hunched against the pain, clutching the bottle in his hands and cried until his head hurt and his eyes were red and puffy. Natasha had told him that crying was a good form of healing. Between the drinking and the crying, he was taking all the dead’s advice right now.

Steve eventually set the bottle down on the ground and got up to turn off the lights. His own unsteadiness was welcome, because it hopefully meant that he would sleep and wouldn’t dream of Tony.

Most nights since Tony died, his mind either gave him memories of sheer bliss, of Tony curled around him in the morning, of his beautiful hands curling around Steve’s arms, of his laugh, or it gave him the terrible moments, of anger, fighting, leaving each other bloody and angry and filled with resentment. Steve didn’t know which was worse.

He lay in the military-style bunk in the barracks, listening to his own breathing, and, as he drifted off in a whisky-hazed sleep, he swore he could hear Tony’s voice, his ragged breathing in Steve’s ear, his moaning low and vibrant in expensive silk sheets that cost more than Steve’s entire wardrobe. Steve felt like he was paralyzed, like he was trapped in a different universe, one where Thanos had never come to call, and he and Tony could spend their entire lives in Tony’s bed, looking out across the city they both loved so much, holding each other as the lights of New York twinkled like the most beautiful stars in the universe.

Steve didn’t like to drink, but if drinking gave him these knife-sharp memories, he was willing to keep a bottle of Tony’s favorite scotch handy for the bad nights.

#stony #stevetony #endgame spoilers #endgame #spoilers #avengers #steve rogers #tony stark #superhusbands #writing #ficlet

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letholojimin · 7 years ago

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14: THE EPILOGUE (JJK)

STUCK SERIES - PART 14

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Themes: high school au to uni au, badboy & fuckboy jungkook

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Word Count: 5,184

Summary: After being labelled the school’s biggest bad boy, Jeon Jungkook chooses to live up to the title. What he doesn’t know is that his arrogance will lead him to you.

SMUT WARNING

13 | EPILOGUE | MASTERLIST

To Jeon Jungkook, you’re the only girl in the world.

As both you and Jungkook grow older over the years, your love grows in strength. There are times wherein your loyalty and faith in each other is tested yet every obstacle only proves the greatness of your feelings for each other. Days bleed into months and months bleed into years and when you and Jungkook are accepted in your shared dream university, both of you and your families could not be any more ecstatic.

Your parents had arranged for the two of you to live in the same apartment with the condition that you had separate rooms. Both of you were speechless when you had found out about the deal between your families and you quickly agreed, happy that you were allowed to stay under the same roof at all. It was a lovely thing that your parents trusted each other’s because they had full support of the two of you’s relationship.

The boys had chosen varying courses, but they stayed within the vicinity. Your friends had decided to go to other colleges that were in different places from yours but you knew that you’d never replace each other because after all, high school was the golden time to make friends that you’d have for the rest of your life.

Now that the two of you were currently in your second year, you’ve had your fair share of college problems- constant exams, terror professors and college parties. You also knew how many girls had wanted your boyfriend, some even trying to steal him away at parties but he’d always been by your side so you’ve never had a problem with that.

Both of you sleep in the same bed, though, and the deal of your parents was intact because you had two rooms but the other one was pretty much left unoccupied. Both of you never get used to the feeling of waking up beside each other and starting the day with small talk or intimate moments to the sweet aroma of food cooked by one of you. Piece by piece, you felt your life coming together and slowly but surely, you knew you had found the one who you want to be with forever- because forever doesn’t seem that long when you’re with him.

Because he makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world because to him, you are. He takes you out to diner dates, dinner meals, movie theatres, long drives. He holds you close to let you know he’ll be there if you ever cry. He kisses you slowly on nights wherein you’ve had a long day and he takes care of you when you’re scared about your future- whispering in your ear that you are his past, present, and his own future as well.

He strips you bare and caresses your cheek before he kisses your lips and when the moonlight hits your face, he still wonders how you’re his. His hands lock on your waist and touch your core to which his fingers create sparks- he marks your neck and grinds into you and calls you a work of art.

He treats you so well to the point that you wonder how he’s real- how you love a man so pure and angelic. You don’t know how to reciprocate at times because he gives you everything in turn for your love and sometimes you doubt if you’re ever enough. These are the nights when Jungkook tucks you in, his scent radiating from you because you’re wearing his shirt. These are the nights you cry silently, sobbing into his chest. These are the nights his heart breaks because of your tear-stained cheeks.

He knows you are perfect and you are more than enough.

There are days wherein you bury yourself into school work brought about by your heavy major, and he offers back massages to you to ease the tension on your shoulders. Jungkook worries that you’re overworking yourself as you tend to forget about your health during these times, so he brings you healthy food for you to eat and makes sure that you have three meals a day.

Then there are days wherein he comes home wasted, and you take care of his busted lip. You don’t know what caused it but you make sure that overall, he’s alright. The next day you find out it’s because of another man whose girl is running after him and you wish you could take the pain away because something like that is not his fault. You bandage his fists and place advil and water on the bedside table for when he wakes.

There are nights wherein he cries too, worried about his life ahead. He says that you’re the only clear picture in his mind when he thinks about the future, worried that he might not do well in his current academics even though his grades are nothing short of stellar. You know he is passionate in everything he does, putting his best efforts in to make sure that his work is always outstanding. You comfort him on these nights wherein it all gets too much for him, telling him that you’re always there for him.

It’s just on one particular night though, that Jungkook screws up.

He comes home drunk off his ass, hair disheveled and by that time, you’re already waiting for him. It is rare that you do not accompany him to parties but today, you just weren’t feeling it. You had failed a long quiz the morning before considering it was a party on a Friday night and you didn’t think it was a good idea to celebrate or drink the night away. Jungkook was invited by the host himself though, and since he promised to make and appearance, you had let him go by himself.

There was never any instance of disloyalty in either parties so you’d never worried about that. Jungkook wasn’t the problem, it was always the girls who came dressed up like pimps hoping that it would allow their chances of him giving in after throwing themselves at him to increase. You were always a little bit iffy about them because they were all snakes who’d stop at nothing to get what they want but you never realized that they would go to this extent.

It’s hard for you to fall asleep with no warm body beside you so you always end up waiting for Jungkook on your bed, watching netflix or scrolling through social media. You find yourself doing the latter on this particular night and when the snapchat stories keep playing, you didn’t expect to find your boyfriend’s face on there.

Jungkook is on fucking fire, moving on the dance floor like the god he knows he is before some skinny brunette appears in the frame and the snap continues. She walks closer to him, close enough to leave you worried and she begins grinding against him. In this moment you see red.

He doesn’t push her off- instead he pulls her closer.

His eyes are closed and then suddenly, the girl’s lips are on his and the snap cuts off there, the last parts of the audio being wild yelling over the bass at the bold action of the girl. In this moment, you see blue.

It takes a moment for you to realize that tears are loosely streaming down your face, stuck in disbelief from what had just happened. It can’t be him, you say to yourself. But it is him and you know it.

When Jungkook comes home piss drunk, you walk him to your shared room. You’re careful not to show him your face as he stumbles through the living area because he might see your puffy eyes. He falls down on the bed the moment he reaches it, falling into slumber right after his head hits the pillow.

It’s when you stand in front of the bed that you start crying again, the shattered parts of your heart lying all across the floor. You had tried not to inhale all that much when you were close to him, afraid that there would be the scent of another girl’s perfume on him. Heated moments like those on the dance floor only lead to one thing, and you can’t bear to let yourself know anything about that.

You bring out the bag you use for road trips, packing jeans, shirts, sleepwear and essentials. You change out of the shirt you’re wearing, heart hurting even more when you realize who the owner is before putting on a sweater of your own and matching track pants, slipping on your sneakers after neatly folding the cloth lent to you and placing it at the bottom of the bed.

You take your phone and your bag, holding your car keys in your hand. The metal feels heavy in your palm but your chest feels heavier when you take a deep breath before stepping outside, the cool air hitting your face. You lock the door behind you, walking towards your car and placing your things inside and eventually sitting down in the driver’s seat, putting the key in the ignition.

Love has its ups and its downs, but you never knew that the fall could hurt that much.

That night, you have a road trip alone.

The next morning, Jungkook wakes. There’s no advil or water on the bedside table and there’s no warm body beside his. There’s no smell of food or any kind of noise from outside the room. He gets up slowly, spotting the shirt you were wearing when he left for the party neatly folded on the corner of the bed. Immediately, he is confused because it is a Saturday morning and you hadn’t informed him of any plans you had. He checks the kitchen counter to see if you’ve left a note where both of you usually do if you head out but there’s nothing there.

He unlocks his phone which is almost drained of any battery to call you only to be led to voicemail.

“Y/N, baby, where are you? I woke up and there’s no note here. Maybe you just forgot to put one, but you never forget so please call me back. I love you.”

Jungkook sighs, opening his other messages. He sees several ones, the most recent one from a guy he’d recently met in one of his classes.

Daniel – 9:16 am

Holy shit man, you were so wild last night! What the fuck was that with Sohee!

What the fuck was that with Sohee? Who even was Sohee?

Jungkook – 11:37 am

What do you mean? Who the hell is Sohee?

He decides to check his other messages to see if he could figure out what had happened. He’s anxious about what he’s going to see but he knows he didn’t do anything wrong or bad last night. Right?

Taehyung – 3:42 am

Jungkook, I will actually fucking kill you when I get to your apartment today. You fucking wait.

Jimin – 2:09 am

I can’t believe you, Jungkook. You screwed up. Big time.

Seokjin – 2:03 am

If I were you, I’d be fucking running to Y/N right now. Heard she saw Sara’s snap. You little shit- I’m going to beat you the fuck up. Why the hell did you go to Alec’s party when we all know about his shit reputation?

What the hell? Where was all this coming from? Hastily, he opens his snapchat to check Sara’s snap, clicking on the circle to see a bunch of videos from last night. He clicks on most of them before he reaches the 10 hour ago mark which meant that they were from around 1:30 am. He watches intently, waiting to see what you could possibly be worried about.

After a few snaps, he finds himself watching a video of him aggressively dancing to the beat of one of the house songs, people surrounding him from every angle to watch him dance. All of a sudden there’s a girl with hair the same shade as yours, height nearly the same, slim and clad in a little black dress. She walks over to him, and his palms are suddenly clammy. When she grinds on him, he eyes grow wide and when he pulls her in closer, he almost drops his phone. “Fuck,” He mutters and when he sees the next snap, his breath hitches in his throat.

His lips are on hers and with that, Jungkook’s world stops and his phone falls to the ground.

It’s two days after the party and there’s still no trace of you. Not long after seeing the video did he find out that some of your shirts are missing, your favorite jeans are nowhere to be found and your converse and rubber shoes have disappeared from beside the front door. He breaks down, realizing that you’d left without any notice on purpose and sweat beads at his forehead as he tries to figure out what exactly had happened the night before.

You looked like her, so he didn’t have any second thought when the girl grinded on his crotch and kissed his lips but when he opened his eyes and saw that hers were not the same shade as yours, he’d pushed her off and hailed a ride home from one of his sober friends, stumbling through your door.

He remembers that you helped him until he reaches the bed and his head hit the pillow, causing him to fall asleep right away but what he doesn’t remember is how you looked like. If you already knew at that time, why did you still help him? Why did you leave only after he made it home, which was where you were?

Question after question bombard his brain, voicemail after voicemail left in your inbox. You don’t answer any of his texts, you stay silent on twitter and it’s like you disappeared off the face of the Earth. He finds his heart breaking, incredibly guilty and sorrowed that you had walked away from him and he was so sorry for his extremely stupid mistake. This was the biggest regret he’d ever had in his entire life.

When Taehyung arrived later on that day after the party, he yelled at Jungkook from outside the apartment and called him all sorts of things and hit him with a wide variety of profanities before he realized how silent the younger one was. When he finally saw Jungkook, he saw that he was crying silently, eyes puffy from earlier tears. In that moment, he swore he had never seen his own friend so heartbroken so he stopped talking, took his brother into his arms before the maknae finally spoke.

“Hyung…” He whispered, voice cracking. “I can’t believe I did that to her.”

Two days and a night spent in a small hotel room in a city between your hometown and your college spent crying, you find yourself in front of your doorstep back in your old city. Your parents welcome you home, overjoyed at how you had found the time to come back even though your college schedule was busy. You told them you were homesick and that you missed them so much which was the reason why you were there. They quickly believed you and when they asked where Jungkook was, you replied with a simple ‘he’s in college,’ before trudging up the stairs to your old room.

The place is still the same as before, the bed neat and the tables a little bit dusty but otherwise, it’s still home. You turn on the air conditioner and strip in your bathroom for a hot bath before breaking down again, leaning against the wall as you let your tears fall down. Eventually, the water runs cold and you’re forced to get out, spending the rest of the day holed up in your room. When your mother knocks at your door to invite you down for dinner, you politely decline and after you remember how it felt like when Jungkook made love to you on top of this bed, you cry yourself to sleep.

It’s Monday when Jungkook hears from his parents that they had seen you around town and wished that he would come home too. Without a second thought, he packs his bags and cuts all his classes for the day, relieved when he finds out that there’s nothing important scheduled. He takes the drive down to your shared hometown and arrives after a few hours, wanting nothing more than to visit your home. He goes against his will and heads to his parent’s place which he hadn’t stayed in since he was in sophomore year before his family agreed to let him room with Taehyung and Jimin.

Later that night, he drives over to your home just to be faced with your parents who tell him that you aren’t there and that you’d gone out with Jinah, a family friend. They tell him the girls number and with the disguise that you’re one of his closest friends, she tells him that you’re at a nearby club.

A few minutes later, he pulls up at the parking lot of the club. He enters the place, wondering how there could be so many people partying on a Monday before spotting you taking shot after shot at the bar counter before this guy approaches you, taking your hand to lead you to the dance floor.

He forces himself to watch, praying for the strength not to intercede with you both. At first, it’s innocent- hands to yourselves, but time passes and his fists balls at his sides when the man reaches over to place his lips on your neck and press his fingers to your hips. Jungkook snaps, trudging over to the guy and punching him square in the jaw.

You shriek, surprised at the sudden action brought to the person in front of you and when the man who assaulted him continues, you swear you recognize the raven hair. You recognize the shirt too- it’s a black material with an intricate font on the collar area and your heart stops. “Jungkook,” You whisper, not believing your eyes. You’re fazed for a moment, before realizing that he was beating the living shit out of this man so your nimble fingers press on his shoulder, urging him to stop.

He does, and you both make your way out. There is a cut on the top of his cheek from where the man had landed a strong hit. Jungkook’s knuckles are split open from the impact brought about by skin meeting skin and your chest hurts seeing him in this state. How is it that even after what he’s done, you still want him? How is it that your heart calls out for him even if your mind is so against it?

Jungkook’s in pain. Not physically- that is incomparable to the sting he feels internally brought about by seeing your face again after days of not knowing your whereabouts. That has been the longest time you had gone without each other and when he sees that you don’t even know what to say at this point drives him insane. The tension can be cut with a knife as you walk to his car, and it only gets thicker once the two of you are in it.

His scent surrounds you and before you know it, you’re toying with the hem of your short dress, unable to speak. Jungkook refuses to drive, though, and instead he looks at you. You’re tugging at loose strands of cloth, fingers fiddling about and he can see your obvious discomfort. It only hurts him further to know that he’s the reason behind this, behind mutual pain.

Before you can speak, he starts.

“Y/N, what that snap didn’t get was how I pushed her away right after she kissed me.” He explains, hoping that you give him another chance. You continue to look down at your lap, so he continues.

“I don’t know who she was, I wasn’t in my right mind and when he started grinding on me, I thought she was you because I would touch anyone else or let anyone else do that to me. Only you, baby. Only you.”

“I know I love you. You know it too. I know there are moments where I fail to show you that and I know I screwed up but baby, believe me when I say I’m so unbelievably sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you because I love you.” He’s tearing up, words coming out in broken whispers.

“I always tell you what I can’t tell anyone else because I trust you more than myself. I tell you how you’re the only constant thing I see in my future in this ever-changing world and these days have been hell for me because for the first time, I had to picture my life without you in it. I was so damn scared and I can’t let you go, not without you knowing that you are the only one for me, that I didn’t kiss that girl back. I have to let you know that I am yours- from my mind to my soul, you have me wrapped around your finger.”

“Y/N, please. Please know how sorry I am, please say something.” He’s become more desperate now and you’re afraid to look up because if you see how beautiful and broken he looks, you might start crying. But it turns out you don’t even need to see him for water to prick at your eyes, threatening to spill.

When you blink, still fumbling, you finally speak up. “Nothing happened?”

It’s a whisper, one that would never be heard if not for the silence of his car, but it’s enough for Jungkook to reach over and clasp your cold palms in his bruised, warm ones. He responds right away, worried if he doesn’t speak, you’ll let go. “Nothing, baby, I swear. I would never ever cheat on you.”

“Do you promise?”

Your voice cracks and you look up at him for the first time, well aware of the tears on your cheeks.

Jungkook stops breathing, guilt overcoming his entire body because he’s the reason behind your pain- both of you are hurting but if he hadn’t gone to that fucking party, you’d still be in his arms right now.

“I swear upon it.” He whispers moving closer to you to hold you cheek in his palm. His thumbs wipe your tears away, pulling you in closer until your foreheads are touching. It’s dizzying to hold you like this; you are more intoxicating than any drink or any drug and he is addicted to you.

“I love you, okay?” You say, closing your eyes and breathing out. “I love you so much that it scares me. I know that there are so many prettier, smarter, hotter girls running after you and I thought you’d finally given in. I kept hoping that you’d stay mine and you’d proven that you would and that you will. I love you.”

“I’m yours just as much as you say you are mine, Jeon Jungkook. I hope that you know that.”

With those words, you close the gap between you two and connect your lips. Immediately, you can taste the mint he always pops in his mouth when he’s driving. Jungkook tastes the tequila you’ve previously consumed and he kisses you slowly.

You move over the center console to straddle his waist and he gladly lets you sit on his lap. It’s him who breaks the kiss to stare into your eyes before he mutters something almost inaudible. “Your eyes are the only ones I would ever fall for.”

These are the words he says before he places his hands on the sides of your hips possesively, not being able to stand knowing that another man had held you like this only mere minutes ago. He nudges your nose with his before he tilts his head and he places his lips back on yours.

You sigh in content, happy to feel his body so close to yours after sleeping alone for the past few nights. You weave your fingers through his hair and reciprocate before he sucks on your bottom lip for entrance.

You take it slow, his other hand trailing up your side to cup your cheek. Jungkook swipes his knuckles gently across the skin before biting lightly on your lip, causing you to gasp. You open your mouth and his tongue swipes against yours. Before you know it, you’re gripping on his shirt, hand balled into a fist as your crumple the fabric.

His strong thighs tense under you, and a low groan resonates from his throat when your tongues start massaging each other. He sucks slightly on yours, eliciting small sounds from you. Jungkook kisses you the way he knows he’ll drive you insane- sensually and slowly, holding you close and savoring your presence.

Your mouth moves south, and he breathes out. The moment Jungkook inhales, you latch your lips on his neck. You suck lightly on different parts, near his collarbone, below his jawline before you reach his adam’s apple and continue to leave marks. Jungkook sighs when you start sucking on his sweet spot, right below his left ear.

The boy in front of you throws his head back on the headrest, allowing you more space. Throaty growls escape from his lips as you continue pleasuring him. When you finally halt your movements, you’re sure that the mark will turn out purple after a few moments. You press chaste kisses on it before wetting it with your tongue, finally disconnecting from his neck.

“Baby, I missed you so much.”

Both you and Jungkook make your way back to your college one day after, and come Tuesday night you’re forced to book a hotel room because the traffic is simply unbearable. Both of you are drained from the long drives and you head to the room immediately, preparing to sleep for the night.

Jungkook isn’t exactly ready to let you fall asleep for the night yet though, despite the fact that it’s already nearing midnight. That night, he takes off your clothes slowly, taking in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips.

Your breaths come out in pants, body calling out for him. Few days without him seemed like a really long expanse of time and as he places his large hands on your unclothed breasts, you happily relish in the feeling of familiarity.

It is during that time that Jungkook reciprocates the marks you had left on him the night before, nibbling slightly on the skin on your collarbones. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear before stripping down himself, not being able to handle the need he feels for you.

“Jungkook…” You call out, desperate for him to do something as he aligns his length in front of your entrance. “I need you.”

That’s all it takes for him to plunge his length into your warmth, your body causing him pleasure. He forces himself to take it slow. He grinds his cock into you, the natural curve of his length reaching deep within. “Mine,” he whispers, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yours.” You reply, clasping at his back, desperate for something to hold onto to keep you grounded. His skin slaps against yours, hips hitting hips, bodies jutting forward in an attempt to feel more of each other. Jungkook’s sweat beads on his hairline and you let yourself sink down into the mattress only for your back to arch back up to meet Jungkook’s chest.

He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you in place so he can thrust into you harder and deeper and your body writhers underneath his touch, sparks where his fingertips press onto your skin. “Yours.” He breathes into your ear, pushing harder. Your high is building up quickly and your stomach knots, eager for release.

Jungkook places his fingers on your clit, rubbing the way he knows will stimulate you the most. “Mine.” You yell, screaming out his name as you come undone. Your body goes limp as he rides out your high while chasing his own, painting your walls in his own while liquid.

He pulls out moments later and both of you fall asleep, holding each other near.

When Jungkook wakes up the next morning, you aren’t beside him.

He panics as he runs his hands through the covers only to find that you aren’t there and he swear he worries because he’s reminded of how you left so abruptly only a few days ago. Jungkook gets up, naked and everything only to feel the cool breeze hit his skin, seeing that you’re leaning against the balcony.

The sun is rising and the clock in the room says that it’s just a little before six am. Your body is clad in a bathrobe, your hair loose and untamed. The wind blows your locks in all sorts of directions and he reaches for another robe inside the closet. He puts it on and joins you outside, not missing the way the sunlight hits your face at the most beautiful angle.

“Good morning, my love.” Jungkook greets, placing a long, meaningful kiss on your forehead. “Good morning, Jungkook,” You mumble lazily, wrapping your arms around his torso. He’s got you in a hugging position at that moment, and you never want to let go.

“What are you doing out here at this time?” He questions, and you feel the vibration of his lips against your skin. “I was thinking.”

“Hmm?”

“Of how much I love you.”

Jungkook can feel himself blush, heart fluttering at the unexpected answer he got. He smiles against your forehead, happily relishing in the moment you’re lucky enough to experience. By now, the sun is peeking through the clouds and is almost about to fully rise. “Y/N, marry me.”

His words catch you off guard and you look up at him, surprised. “What?”

“Maybe not now, maybe not until we figure out the rest of our lives,” He continues, holding your hand. “But one day, please,”

“Marry me.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. You tiptoe slightly and bring your head up so your lips can meet his because already, you’ve got an answer.

“Yes, Jeon Jungkook,” You start, tears pricking your eyes.

Love has different ways of appearing in your life. It can be in the form of your parents who take care of you and prepare you for the world ahead of you since the moment you are born, it can be in the form of your best friends who listen to you when nobody else will, and it can be in the form of a raven-haired boy who shows you all the colors of the spectrum only to accentuate red- the color of his deep passion.

When the time is right, “I’ll marry you.”

and the epilogue is finally here. thank you so much to everyone who has read and supported this series, you are the reason why i was motivated to continue this even though it got hard at times. i hope you enjoyed this rather angsty ending and i hope you enjoyed the transition from how they were a high school couple to a college couple! i might write extra scenarios for this, so please send in asks and watch out for that. thank you so much for supporting stuck, my first ever tumblr series, and i hope you continue to read my work. thank you so much- thank you, thank you, thank you.

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patriotsnet · 3 years ago

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Why Are Republicans Red And Democrats Blue

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-are-republicans-red-and-democrats-blue/

Why Are Republicans Red And Democrats Blue

The History Of Party Colors In The United States

Why Red for Republicans and Blue for Democrats? | America 101

Prior;to the United States presidential election of 2000, which party was Red and which was Blue was largely a matter of which color a news outlet chose.;On the October 30, 2000, episode of the Today show, Tim Russert coined the terms red state and blue state.

As far back as the 1888 election blue was used to represent the northern Union states and red the south, but this wasnt consistent throughout time . In the 70s and 80s the major networks starting using lighted maps to illustrate election results. Democrats were often coded blue and Republicans red, but it wasnt consistent. This inconsistent coloring continued throughout the Clinton years and up to the Gore Vs. Bush. This can all be varied by old videos and articles.

Democrats And Republicans: Blue And Red Or Red And Blue

Lycaon pictus said:If you mean “conservative” in the sense of “maintaining as much of the status quo as humanly possibly” there’s a good case that they still are. The Democrats are the ones trying to keep the social safety net intact, while Republicans want to replace it with uh I’ll have to get back to you on that.

Nerdlinger said:The age-old question: On US electoral maps, should the Democrats be blue and the Republicans red, as is recent American practice, or should the Democrats be red and Republicans blue to better reflect the colors more associated with their ideologies on an international level?

ColeMercury

ColeMercury said:Democrats blue, Republicans red. That’s the convention that’s been developed, so there’s no point in flipping it around just because. And if your justification is ideology, the Democrats aren’t a socialist or social-democratic party so they shouldn’t be coloured red anyway.

zoomar

zoomar said:Wow, with my vote it’s exactly 50-50.I don’t know how the current color coding got started, but it makes no sense. Red is almost universally associated with the left. Blue has a less clear ideological meaning, but if you use blue, it should by default refer to conservatives in the US. I vote for Red=Democrats, Blue=Republican.

19942010

While Many Conservative Parties Around The World Are Associated With Blue In Us Elections The Republicans Are Denoted By Red And The Convention Is A Relatively Recent Development

For those who dont follow US politics closely, aspects of the vote might seem confusing from how the electoral college and popular vote work to which swing states can .

The uninitiated might also be unfamiliar with the maps and graphics on TV showing states turn red and blue as the results are announced heres how the colours work.

Recommended Reading: How Many Republicans In California

Red States And Blue States

Since around the 2000 United States presidential election, red states and blue states have referred to states of the United States whose voters predominantly choose either the Republican Party or Democratic Party presidential and senatorial candidates. Since then, the use of the term has been expanded to differentiate between states being perceived as liberal and those perceived as conservative. Examining patterns within states reveals that the reversal of the two parties’ geographic bases has happened at the state level, but it is more complicated locally, with urban-rural divides associated with many of the largest changes.

All states contain both liberal and conservative voters and only appear blue or red on the electoral map because of the winner-take-all system used by most states in the Electoral College. However, the perception of some states as “blue” and some as “red” was reinforced by a degree of partisan stability from election to electionfrom the 2000 election to the 2004 election, only three states changed “color” and as of 2020, fully 35 out of 50 states have voted for the same party in every presidential election since the red-blue terminology was popularized in 2000.

The Psychology Of Tie Colors In The Race For President

Have you ever asked yourself the question why we only see red and blue ties on presidential candidates as of recently? Some might argue that candidates will choose those ties that best reflects their partys identify, meaning red ties for Republican Romney, and blue ties for Democrat President Obama, but this is only partially true.

Take Tuesdays Presidential debate for instance. Romney wore a bright blue and white striped tie while Obama opted for a burgundy-red piece, a change that I was very happy to see. Pre-debate I was actually hoping that Obama would be wearing a red tie a color that is synonymous with power, confidence, and excitement all things Obama lacked in the first debate.

Obama is Taking Charge, Wearing a Burgundy-Red Tie

I am now making the argument that Obamas red tie helped him step up his game during the last debate. Not only did the tie grabbed the audiences attention, but I strongly belief that it gave President Obama a boost of confidence after taking a look in the mirror.

The psychology & emotional effects of colors is definitely nothing new. In fact, psychologists have been researching the meaning of colors for decades, if not centuries, and evidence does indeed prove that certain colors do evoke certain emotional responses in people. This is nothing new to presidential candidates who pay attention to what colors to pick out for a public appearance.