#yes this is about the sick punk blog post

[ramp-it-up]

Knock You Down: IV

Photo credit to @thebluemage. Edit mine.

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Finally! Date Number Threeeeee!

This is a follow up to Part III

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This is the final part! (For now) I think that this is one that I will definitely write in answer to asks. I just love these two so so much! Thank all of you for rocking with me on this one. This was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. SMUT!!!! The end of the Slow burn, now it's burning very fast 😅. Cursing, flirting, jealousy, apologies, Bucky cooking (a warning!), kissing, dry humping, dirty talk in both English and Romanian, voice kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected sex (yay Bucky!) And these two are so fucking fluffy. I'm scared, y'all. I want it to be good enough for the build up.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! ��

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

As soon as he entered the Brownsville Arts and Culture Center, James Bucky Barnes was hot. Blood was rushing to his ears and he needed a drink. He wasn’t sick; his symptoms were all due to you.

The black dress that adorned your body contained all of his hopes and dreams, but you seemed to be flirting with another man, twirling for him and then giving him a hug. To add insult to injury, you had the nerve to laugh and smile with the punk. 

You in that black dress was everything in the world that Bucky could want, except maybe you out of that black dress. As his eyes traced down your form, he noticed the 5 inch red bottoms that you had on. Yes. You, out of that dress with just the red bottoms. That was what he needed in his life.

But first, he had to take care of that other man.

—-

“Benson’s work emphasizes the subjects’ spiritual essence over their physical appearance, don’t you think?”

You turned around at the sound of the deep baritone. 

“Well hello, Mr. Rogers. How are you today? Delivering an art analysis given to you by AI? Oh. I forgot. You are an ‘art dealer.’ An art dealer who goes to Soul Cycle in Brownsville all of a sudden?”

Steve clutched his heart.

“Ah. I’m hurt, Y/N. I thought we were cool. But I guess I deserved the air quotes.  I do actually love art. I took some art classes when I was a kid and I still love to sketch.”

“Hmmmph. Okay. I’ll give you that. But how is it that you popped up in my Soul Cycle class? Don’t play me, Steven.”

Steve raised his eyebrow at you and grinned. He understood why Buckiy was so drawn to you. Not only were you gorgeous, you were a spitfire. That was hot.

“I would never try to play you, Y/N. I also actually love Soul Cycle. Used to teach a class in Park Slope.”

“I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, can you?”

Steve’s eyes slid over you appraisingly.

“Speaking of. You look very, very nice today.”

You twirled for him, feeling as safe as you would your brother.

“Nice. Okay, listen. I’m sorry about the other day. I was just trying to protect my friend. And you.”

Steve sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ve never seen Bucky like this. He’s never been this smitten with someone before and let them into his life. But I get it now.”

Steve’s blue eyes were almost as beautiful as Bucky’s.

“Bucky is my family. Since we were kids. He’s always taken care of me. And I will do anything for him.”

He raised his eyebrow at you.

“I can see now that means that I will do anything for you, because I have a feeling that you’re gonna be around a lot. So do you forgive me?”

You considered Steve. He was not too different from his best friend, and you couldn’t hold a grudge. Not after Bucky laid it all out to you last night You opened your arms.

“Let’s hug it out.”

Steve chuckled and gathered you into his warm embrace. You pulled back and giggled, grinning at him.

“So what makes you think I’m gonna be hanging around?”

“Well, judging from the look on Bucky’s face, he’s serious about you.”

Steve nodded behind you, toward the door. You looked that way and saw James Bucky Barnes headed straight for you. 

And he didn’t look happy.

—--

“Good morning, Frumoasă. You look stunning today. The exhibit is amazing, the space looks great and it seems that the right people are in the building.”

Bucky came up and placed his hand on the small of your back as he spoke to you, ignoring Steve. His blue eyes were storm clouds at the moment, and his touch was electric.

“Thank you, James. You’re so observant, I appreciate that. And you look very handsome today.”

You looked him up and down and bit your lip, meeting his gaze and the way he kept eye contact as he inclined his head in response. 

Bucky was attractive as hell in his black on black shirt, blazer and slacks. You noticed that his collar was unbuttoned; the medallion hanging on his chest made you want to take it between your teeth. You stared at it for a moment, imagining such a scenario where that could happen and then met his eyes again, prompting desire to roll through you as Bucky licked his lips. He was right there with you.

You smiled at him in a way that you didn’t smile at Steve. Who was Steve Rogers, anyway? You could hardly remember meeting him as your mind went to the feel of being in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

You sensed an air of proprietariness as Bucky took your hand and kissed it, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Possessive Bucky Barnes felt like a sin you wanted to indulge in. You cleared your throat and looked at Steve, as if surprised to find him still standing there, watching the show.

“Well, I see some board members over there, I’m going to go do my job. Talk to you later, boys.”

You walked away and gave them a wink over your shoulder, and you caught both of them looking at your ass. You shook your head and chuckled as you went on your way.

“You trying to steal my girl?”

Everyone stopped when Steve laughed, his deep boom a distraction. Bucky still wasn’t amused.

“Oh. So you’re in love.”

“What?”

“You’ve never worried about me taking your leftovers or vice versa before. Hell, we’ve even shared–”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Bucky snapped at Steve who put his hands up.

“Whoa, there. Just yanking your chain, buddy; I know she’s special. I wouldn’t dream of making a move on her. Not that she knows I’m alive. When you walked up, I thought I was going to have to take off my jacket so you two could fuck on the floor.”

Bucky was barely listening to Steve as his eyes followed you around the room. One thing Steve said was echoing in his mind: “So you’re in love.”

—-

You floated through the rest of the day on a cloud. The exhibit was a smashing success with the 

Board of Directors in attendance. Securing Howard Benson’s penultimate work from Rebirth was the feather in your cap. 

And you had Bucky to thank for it.

Bucky’s visit was also a hit; he and Steve charmed the board members with the help of Sam and Nat, who arrived later. They all made amends for what occurred that week and you were left very impressed with James Barnes.

After a couple of hours at the event, Bucky came over to let you know he was leaving.

“I will see you later, Frumoasă. I have much to prepare for tonight. Nico will pick you up at 7:30.”

“See you soon, James.”

He kissed your hand again.

“See you soon, Y/N.”

—---

“It is actually insanely attractive how you handled yourself in the kitchen.”

You were seated with Bucky on his couch in his living room, looking over the New York skyline from his Brooklyn penthouse. The dessert had been delicious and the wine in your hand was spectacular. 

“I was sure you’d order something in and just play it off. But I watched you create a meal in front of me, and I should have known that if you said you were going to cook, that you would do just that.”

Bucky’s heart beat double time at what you were saying. He wanted so much for tonight, but most of all, he wanted it to flow naturally. He saw that you were relaxed and open to him, which pleased him immensely.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Frumoasă. I enjoy cooking for my friends and family. Cooking for a beautiful woman is a treat.”

Bucky’s eyes slid over your form. You had changed to jeans and a color block sweater that just put your cleavage out there for the world, which was Bucky Barnes, to see. You also wore the same red bottoms from that day, and Bucky was beginning to think he had a foot fetish as you took them off at his entryway.

You took a sip of wine.

“How often do you do that? Cook for a woman?”

You barely hid your curiosity.

Bucky smiled and drained his glass, reaching over to refill it.

“Not as often as you’d think. Never had any other woman over here. Food is not usually the top priority with them.”

You pouted, which was so cute. Your spark of jealousy inspired Bucky.

“But I don’t want to talk about anyone else. Tonight is about me and you.”

Any uncertainty that arose was quelled by his assertion. You grew warm, so you finished your wine and rose to go to the window. 

“This is the most gorgeous view I’ve ever seen.”

“Absolutely agree.”

You looked behind you and Bucky was still sitting on the couch, hands spread out on the back of it, checking you out. You gave him one of your adorable smiles and he came to stand behind you, and took you in his arms. 

“I want you to know that you deserve everything, Y/N. To be cheered on and protected every day. And thoroughly ruined every night.”

You turned around and his hands went to your hips. It was the perfect moment.

“James?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

Bucky’s eyes dilated, and he moved his hand to your cheek. He licked his lips as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Ah, Frumoasă. I thought you’d never ask.”

His first movement was a subtle brush of your lips. He pulled back to assess the situation, and you didn’t know why, but that made your nipples tighten into stiff peaks. You gasped as Bucky watched you hungrily. 

The air seemed to change around you, and you shivered. He lowered his head so his lips could meet yours again, and this time his mouth was gentle but demanding. You gasped at the spike of electricity that flared between you and Bucky took the opportunity to dip his tongue into your mouth, scorching your lips and soul. With a low groan, he shifted your angle, bending you backward a little to kiss you deeper and ripping a moan from you as you melted against him. 

Good lord, could the man kiss. 

At that point, he was holding you up, one hand on your hip and one hand on the back of your head as you molded yourself against him. Bucky’s fingers dug into you, sure to leave bruises the next day. You relished the thought as you moaned into his mouth again, giving him the opportunity to continue destroying your soul. 

Bucky dragged his lips from yours reluctantly and stared at you, eyes almost black with desire. He brought his thumb up and wiped the moisture from your bottom lip. Motivated, you captured his digit, drawing it into the hot wetness of your mouth. He stared at you, mouth open, as you looked him straight in the eye and started sucking.

Bucky moaned as he pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth, and walked you back to the couch. He extracted his finger, watching the show your lips put on as he pulled it out, leaving them in a delectable pout. 

“More,” Bucky demanded as he crouched down and took your head in both hands as he kissed you again. 

His hands wound up in your hair, tugging gently, then on your back, then your ass as you arched your back to fill his palms. Bucky picked you up, then deposited you on his lap as he sat down on the couch, and you felt how aroused he was. His thick length was where you needed him most.

“Fuck! That feels good.”

Bucky was watching you grind on him like it was the best show on earth. Then he looked up at you.

“Yes, yes it does.”

He leaned forward and captured your bottom lip between his teeth, a preview of how rough he wanted to be with you. Then, he went in for another kiss. That continued for a good five minutes until he pulled away to stare at your swollen lips, and down to your cleavage, which was practically in his face.

When his eyes met yours, you were entranced.

“You good? You want this to happen?”

You nodded and took his hands in yours, guiding them up to your breasts, squeezing yourself with his hands. You rolled your hips, causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Like you said, James. More.”

You continued to grind on him, causing him to just gape at your body moving on his.

“I’ve dreamed of this so many times…”

“Yes? Tell me about your dreams, Baby.”

His hands moved to find your nipples through the lace of your bra and the wool of your sweater. He found them in no time, and pinched them lightly, then more roughly when you moaned.

“Mmmmnnnn. So fucking hot.”

Bucky kissed you again and then pulled away as he stared you down and tortured you. 

“I dream about marking you up,” he kissed your neck under your chin, “to your clavicle,” a kiss there, “and all over this beautiful flesh until I get to your nipples.” 

He looked at you for any signs of discomfort as he slipped his hands under your sweater to find the thin lace there. He found your hard peaks again and started rolling them both in his fingers.

“Then I want to kiss and suck them until you come in my arms.”

“Holy god, Jamie….”

Bucky’s eyes rolled at the second pet name you called him and continued.

“Wake up so fucking hard every morning since I met you. Then, I daydream about how wet and tight you will be after I made you cum, and how good it would feel to… to give you my cock. Do y’like that idea, Frumoasă?”

“Y-yesssss!”

“O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă.”

You almost came right then.

“D-don’t know what you said, but yes to whatever you just suggested.”

Bucky pulled you to him, and then chuckled into your ear.

“It means that I want to make you cum over and over again on my cock.”

You were already making a mess in your jeans, but you knew he could feel you soaking them at the moment.

“Please. Give it to me?”

Bucky groaned and kissed you again, this time encircling your waist in his grip and pressing you down on his bulge. 

“You know I can’t deny you anything. Are you certain?”

“Yes, James. Please…”

He lifted you easily, kissing you as he walked you down the hall to his bedroom, depositing you on his bed. 

“Y’look so fucking good.”

He crawled toward you on the bed and settled between your thighs as you hitched your leg over his. You pressed your core against his bulge and it had you muttering.

“Too many clothes.”

Bucky leaned up and you were fumbling with his button and he with yours. You looked up and laughed. 

“Maybe faster the other way.”

“Agreed.”

You two made quick work of your own garments, flinging them around the room between frenzied kisses. The way your eyes widened when Bucky got naked made his chest swell. He wanted you to always look at him like that.

“Wow…,” you said as your eyes roamed his physique.

His cock seemed massive as it slapped him on the abs.

“Wow, indeed,” replied Bucky as he took you in hungrily.

Your white lace underwear looked amazing against your skin and against your cunt it served to make him hungry.

He moved toward you again, kissing up your leg until he got to the edge of your panties and nudged his nose there, making you squirm.

“Smell so good, look so good…”

Bucky kissed at the edge of your underwear,

“I just know you’re gonna taste good too..”

He moved to the center of you, placing a kiss over your lace-covered sodden slit. Then, he looked up at you and smirked before he leaned down and licked you over your panties. 

“Fuck.”

He pulled your panties to the side and gazed at you there. 

Those blue eyes threatened to steal your soul as he gazed at you and confessed, “This is the most gorgeous pussy I’ve ever seen,” and proceeded to lick a rude stripe up the center of you after he tore your panties away.

“Oh my god, James.”

You rolled your hips again and reached down to feel Bucky’s soft hair. He pulled your hips closer and his lips suckled you with more pressure, adding one finger, then two to stretch you out. 

“Gotta get you ready for me, my love.” 

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you moaned through Bucky thrusting his tongue inside you, then pulling back to focus on your clit.

“I c-can’t.. I–”

“Give me my cum, Frumoasă!”

You locked eyes with him as he buried his face in your cunt and shook against him as you came embarrassingly fast, pulling on his messed up curls.

“So fucking delicious. Taste.”

He took your head in both hands and kissed you deeply, and you responded by sucking your essence off of his tongue. You reached down and started stroking his cock, overjoyed and a little bit scared that your fingers didn’t meet around him as he unclasped your bra.

Bucky whimpered as your thumb came up and stroked his sensitive head, spreading his precum over the wide, mushroom cap.

“You’re so fucking huge, Bucky…”

Bucky pulled you toward him as he reached into his bedside drawer for a condom and a bottle.

“And you’re so wet, Furmoasa. We will make this work. Believe me…”

You continued to stroke and watched him as he brought the wrapper to his teeth and him tearing it open was about the hottest act of sexual protection you’d ever seen. Somehow, your mouth ended up sucking his tip as you watched his eyes roll back into his skull.

“That beautiful mouth…”

Bucky put his hand on your head as you tasted him experimentally, wondering if you’d ever be able to take it all. He seemed to read your mind as he spoke next.

“Don’t worry, I plan on us having a lot of practice with this later, but if you don’t let me put this condom on, I’m gonna cum all over your face, Frumoasă…”

You looked up at him and grinned as his cock jumped in your mouth, but you finally pulled off of him with a pop.

“I need to feel you around me when I cum love. S’all I’ve been dreaming of all week.”

Now his chest was heaving as he rolled the condom on, and he pushed you back onto the bed as his hand went to your core once again. You were even wetter than before and Bucky smiled at you, lining up and kissing you on the forehead as he began to breach your folds.

When he slid inside, your fingernails curled into his shoulders and your eyes grew wide. Bucky stopped, concentrating while his cock pumped, barely inside you.

“There is nothing. In the world. Like being inside your soft, wet, cunt.”

“Fuckkkkk!” 

You became even wetter and he slid fully inside you. There, Bucky waited for you to get adjusted around him.

“So fucking tight. And hot. Just like I knew you would be.”

“More, Jamie!”

Smiling, Bucky started moving and you gripped him as he stroked in and out.

“Please don’t stop. Harder!”

Bucky grabbed the headboard and gave you what you wanted. His other hand pulled your hair and his strokes became more intense.

“Wanted to last longer, but I can’t, Baby. So beautiful. Pussy made for me. Cuming soon, but later… O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă. I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

You orgasm whited out your vision and your throat burned as you screamed. Bucky roared, filling the condom with copious amounts of cum. Your cunt was milking him and he hoped it would hold. He stayed sunk into you as long as he could before he had to get up and rid himself of the prophylactic.

He was only in the en suite for a few minutes as you floated in and out of sleep, lust drunk and exhausted.

Bucky climbed back into bed and got both of you situated under the covers, whispering in your ear.

“Stay tonight.”

“Of course. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Both of you chuckled, because you knew it was true. Bucky kissed your ear and waited for your breath to even out. When he thought you were asleep, he whispered again.

“I’m going to be a better man for you, Frumoasă.”

“You are exactly who you need to be, James Barnes. Just keep moving forward. Tomorrow is another day to do that.”

After a few more minutes, you spoke again.

“Tomorrow will only be a week that we’ve known each other. Imagine that.” 

Bucky buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Guess I better wait until tomorrow to ask you to marry me.”

You laughed a sleepy laugh.

“You got jokes.”

“You know me, Frumoasă. A professional comedian.”

But somewhere in the dark of Bucky Barnes’ closet, a diamond found some light and sparkled.

——

The next morning is here ;)

Please, please! Let me know!

[tiredaf23]

Hot take, hot take:

If your disabled and downplay other disabilities just because you're more disabled than them, you're fucking entitled and ableist.

I'm sick of going through the cripple punk tags and it's just people who have larger disabilities shitting on people with more "generic" ones. Stop saying people with fibromyalgia are "privileged" when you have a spinal cord injury.

Is it shitty you're heavily disabled? Yes. And I'm sorry you have to go through that every day, and I genuinely hope you all can get through your day and stay safe, especially in such an ableist society.

I'm talking about the people who fight ableism with ableism because despite them being in the cripple punk tags, it's not fucking punk.

And another thing: if you take people who say ADHD is "paralyzing" (it'd 100% not, that's ADHD freeze and should still be taken seriously because it's a sign of burn out) and you cannot say that you've heard it in real life and you STILL generalize people with ADHD, I'm biting you.

Because what is people's problems with taking tiktoks and running with it? I can whole heartedly say I've came across real heavily disabled people, not online, who have cussed me out for saying I need a cane. I do. I just don't have one because doctors are refusing to see me.

You're not punk for generalizing other disabled people and using your own disabilities to cover it up.

"B-But this person with scoliosis was saying something about how they need a wheelchair and I'm right there and only people who can't walk at all need wheelchairs 🥺🥺🥺🥺"

Disrespectfully, shut up.

Tldr is: People can be ableist and disabled. Keep ableism out of punk tags.

I want to clarify because re-reading this it could potentially rub off the wrong way: I'm not talking all bout all disabled people. Just the people who are actively entitled and ableist. I have a few blogs in mind when making this post, but I won't mention them as they have a lot of supporters and I don't want to be harassed (one of the blogs has harassed other people online and encourages their fan base to by doing so).

I'm tagging in system tags as well, as I am a system and don't want endos on my post. I consider this a boundary, not a cross-tag

[eazy-peazy54]

"Welcome, babies. To the Fruity Pebbles Castle of Torment: a scary castle with 100 rats."

~~~

There comes a time once in every f-slur's life to make an intro post for this god forsaken hellsite.

Now is that time.

~~~

GREETINGS, TO EVERY FOOL WHO HAS MISTAKENLY STUMBLED UPON THIS TUMBLR PAGE!

(This is my sick ass and very cool intro post!!)

SOME MAY CALL ME A MAD SCIENTIST, OR A "RINGMASTER-TYPE," BUT MOST THINK OF ME AS SOME SORT OF WEIRDO WHO THINKS THAT BILL CIPHER IS "SO ME FR" AND TYPES LIKE THAT FOR FUNZIES IN HER INTRO POST SO SHE LOOKS COOL.

(The last one is true, I'm truly a nerd trying to impress you all so you stick around and like me. In all honesty I'm just a kid who wants to be both Bill Cipher and also a vampire. I wanna bring a real Will-Woodian vibe to your function [aka your dashboard.])

THIS BLOG IS ONLY A GLIMPSE INTO THE ENIGMA OF THE LONG AND VAST MAZE THAT SOME MAY CALL A "BRAIN." I PREFER TO CALL IT A MIND-HOLE.

MIND-FUCK, MIND-HOLE, SAME DIFF.

ANYWHO, ONWARDS!

🧪 ABOUT ME: ~ My name is Peazy ~ She/He/They ~ Bi ~ Minor ~ I PROBABLY HAVE AUTISM!! (we can tell) OR ADHD OR SOMETHING !! OR BOTH!! PROLLY BOTH!! 🫀 WHAT I DO: ~ I shitpost. A lot. Mostly, actually. But I am ALSO: ~ An artist! ~ Singer-Songwriter ~ Starting a band! (Mr. Amnesia and The Surrealists, check us out if we ever drop anything!) ~ Writer (of both real stories, and fanfiction!) ~ Creator of the Mary Bell Township ARG! (check out my TikTok and Youtube links if you're interested.. :3) 🐇 FUN FACTS: ~ Once again, I make music! ~ I'm making an ARG that I might make a sideblog for, so stay tuned! ~ I am allergic to gluten ~ I fuckin LOVE cats ~ I'm somehow Goth and Emo and Scene all at the same time?!?? ~ I play the pianooooo!

💫 CURRENT HYPERFIXATIONS: ~ Will Wood ~ LITWTC/Life in The World to Come ~ Gravity Falls ~ My own ARG ?? somehow ?? Don't ask, I don't know how this happened.

~ Moral Orel

🌊 FANDOMS: ~ Will Wood ~ LITWTC/Life in The World to Come ~ Gravity Falls ~ Smiling Friends ~ Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix ~ Portal ~ Once again, my own ARG somehow.

~ Moral Orel

~ Sonic The Hedgehog

~ Hatsune Miku/Vocaloid

~Undertale

~Deltarune

🎹 MUSIC I LISTEN TO: ~ this list is never gonna be EVERYTHING i listen to so bare with me

🎼 GENRES: ~ Goth ~ Emo ~ Vaporwave ~ Alternative ~ General "Weird Kid" music ~ Rap ~ Swing ~ "Indie" ~ Folk ~ Punk ~ Hyperpop ~ Basic white girl music that I will not admit as to specifics 🎶 ARTISTS: (in no particular order) (also this is NOT all of them) ~ Will Wood/Will Wood and the Tapeworms ~ Lemon Demon ~ Tally Hall ~ Oingo Boingo ~ DEVO ~ That Handsome Devil ~ Crystal Castles ~ Glass Animals ~ Man Man ~ Tyler, The Creator ~ Kendrick Lamar ~ Desert Sand Feels Warm At Night ~ Infinity Frequencies ~ POiSON GiRL FRiEND ~ Girls Rituals ~ Black Dresses ~ Jack Stauber ~ Mitski ~ She Wants Revenge ~ Joy Division ~ New Order ~ Joey Valence & Brae ~ Chappell Roan ~ Gorillaz ~ SOPHIE ~ Charli xcx ~ Kesha ~ MF DOOM ~ TV Girl ~ Ethel Cain ~ Lamp ~ Panchiko ~ Yaelokre ~ Radiohead ~ Billie Eilish

🕯️ AESTHETICS IM INTO: ~ Yes, this needed its own category. Hush hush. ~ Gothic (I'm goth don't come at me for putting it in the damn aesthetics) ~ Emo/Scene (SAME SHIT APPLIES AS THE LAST ONE) ~ Frutiger Aero (and anything relating) (<- I will yap about this for ages hold me back) ~ Frutiger Metro ~ Southern Gothic ~ New Wave ~ Utopian Scholastic ~ Vaporwave (IM AN OG PLEASE CHAT) ~ Weirdcore (NOT THE ONE YOU'RE THINKING) ~ 2000's/Y2k (once again NOT THE ONE YOU'RE THINKING) ~ Twee (oopsie daisy) ~ Whimsigoth

~ Halloween shit ~ General vibes of mad scientists and circuses ~ Whatever the fuck Will Wood has going on

🎪 OTHER INTERESTS: ~ Danny Gonzalez, Drew Gooden, Kurtis Conner ~ Flamingo ~ Making PLAYLISTS RRRAAAGH ~ Aesthetics (ask me about this shit I will yap for ages) ~ Liminal Spaces ~ Jfashion ~ Gyaru fashion ~ Other Subcultures ~ Everything creepy! ~ Song analyzation ~ Vampires ~ Circus stuff ~ Mad scientist stuff ~ HALLOWEEN ~ Playing piano! ~ YAPPING

🏷 TAGS TO LOOK OUT FOR: ~ #asks :3 - everything people yap to me in my inbox! ~ #fanfic shenanigans - I want you to take a WILD GUESS. ~ #peazy's yapping - general stuff, or long posts of me yapping ~ #long post - again, take a wild guess. ~ #reblog - like a normal reblog, but I said something in the tags! ~ #art reblog - same as the last one, but art I really liked and had something to say about! ~ #important - actual important things, like awareness posts and all that good jazz :) ~ #mutuals/#THATS OOMF 😭 - MUTUALLSSSS

~#mary bell township/#mary bell township arg - my arg! Arg content goes under both tags, but there’s usually more content under #mary bell township :)

🔎 OTHER SOCIALS: ~ TikTok ~ Instagram ~ Youtube ~ Ao3

🦇 DNI: ~ Jokes on you, there is none! Except... ~ Homophobes, transphobes, nazis, racists, terfs, radfems, pedos, proshippers ~ Blogs who solely post NSFW (a few suggestive things are fine! but if you're posting straight-up PORN or only nsfw and only smut, then no thank you brother) ~ Adding on to that, if you have a NSFW side blog, that's fine! ~ Also don't tag my posts as NSFW pretty please. I'm a minor, and if I'm talking about my mama, I mean my mother. ~ people who don't fw bagels /j ~ Either way, I block as I please!

PHEW, FINALLY THATS OVER WITH. BEEN MEANING TO MAKE ONE OF THESE FOR A WHILE NOW.

ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED LEARNING ABOUT ME, AND IF YOU READ THIS FAR..

thank you! :)

It means a lot!

NOW,

BEGONE.

[awesomehoggirl]

8, 10 & 16? also im so sry u have covid :((

10. do you have a favourite classic novel?

yes but i prefer american classics so my answer is little women :3 and Ok kill me i fucking love catcher in the rye. and breakfast at tiffanys duhhh

16. how do you organise your music playlists?

ive spoken about this on my blog before but Neurotically to the point the activity of playlist making brings me both great stress and the only relief in this sick world. i split up playlists mostly by genre or theme. i have 7 main ones, all 100+ songs long: britpop and 2000s guitar music, 90s-2010s dance/electronica, 90s 70s-80s post punk and new wave, grunge and riot grrrl, soft grunge and riot grrrl, and 70s rock and roll. genre and decade exceptions can be made, but too many and the playlist needs to be redone. when ordering songs i usually i do it by sound or theme and try to have songs blend into each other, but i have some done alphabetically, some chronologically following a narrative, some keeping album cover in mind. if i dont like an album cover i cant put it on the playlist (for this reason i only listen to the bob dylan version of big yellow taxi despite preferring the joni mitchell version). if two album covers look bad next to each other the playlist needs to be reordered. a playlist cannot have too many or too few songs from the same artist. there has to be balance and sometimes, for one golden moment, i am able to achieve it. this is one of my all time favourite ways to pass the time

[daemonhxckergrrl]

I posted 25,257 times in 2022

731 posts created (3%)

24,526 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@littlemisspipebomb

@transgendercyborg

@catgirldick

@wizardpotions

I tagged 3,165 of my posts in 2022

#daemon.md - 845 posts

#grrl.rb - 485 posts

#<- prev - 103 posts

#shitpost.txt - 85 posts

#userCache - 85 posts

#gender - 70 posts

#patternBuffer - 55 posts

#progblr - 40 posts

#fuck capitalism - 39 posts

#linux - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#is infinitely more punk than spending £100 on boutique distressed + 'aesthetically' patched jeans from a company using overseas cheap labor

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I was today years old when I realised that bc "hail" literally means "call/greet", the phrase "hail satan" implies no deference to hierarchy

189 notes - Posted April 14, 2022

#4

Getting Linux-y (for Windows refugees)

a casual users' GUIDE to the basics

Linux ? isn't that for nerds ??

yes. no. we're breaking down stereotypes here !! this post is aimed at casual users who care about freedom + privacy, are sick of the direction Windows is heading, or just curious c:

i'm talking social media, email, web browsing, online shopping, pdfs, document writing, funny meme edits, youtube/netflix/plex, spotify, dvds + cds + mp3s etc.

i'll mention gaming and running specific Windows-only software briefly, but that's outside the casual scope i'm going for d:

Arm thyself ! and decipher !! arcane secrets be upon ye !!

it's key knowledge time !! ^w^

Linux isn't Windows, but it's not completely alien :o

much like Tumblr, one curates their Linux experience. there are flavours of Linux (terminology: distribution/distro) aimed at power users who like to DIY, and there's ones aimed at normal folk that are ready to go. for the sake of this GUIDE i'm recommending Linux Mint:

its interface is similar to Windows,

it's popular as a user-friendly choice

and it has both excellent support and software

(note: i ran Mint for years, and when coming back to Linux i chose it for my gaming pc because it's easy to set up and well-supported)

key information:

Linux doesn't use drive letters :o

your C: drive is / (terminology: root directory)

your personal files (C:\Users\Username) live under /home/username (terminology: home directory)

other drives (internal and USB drives) live under /mnt/drive-label or /media/username/drive-label (terminology: mount point)

Technical Note: all hard drives and SSDs, before they get a mount point, are referred to as /dev/sdX (eg /dev/sda, /dev/sdb etc.) for HDDs and SATA SSDs (partitions are /dev/sda1, /dev/sda2 etc.), and /dev/nvmeXn1 (/dev/nvme0n1, /dev/nvme1n1 etc.) for NVMe drives (partitions are /dev/nvme0n1p1, /dev/nvme0n1p2)

however, Mint manages all this for us and stuff just shows up in your File Manager much like they do in Windows Explorer c:

Software is typically managed similar to the way App Stores work; Mint has Software Manager that lets you install common programs

the only wrinkle here is Mint supports both Mint-specific sources and a thing called Flatpak, which is like a universal App Store for all Linux distros

the Update Manager keeps both your core system and your programs up-to-date. unlike Windows, by default it will only update when you tell it to ! no more rebooting into Windows Update and waiting 10 years ^w^

it's possible to have both Linux and Windows on the same laptop (terminology: dual-booting); you choose which one each time you turn your laptop on

the Linux Mint Forums are a good place to ask questions, seek advice, and maybe even offer your own !!

additional places: Official Community Website, community-maintained subreddit, community-maintained Discord Server, Official Troubleshooting Guide

i think that's the basic info taken care of.

Let's start with the preparation, or PRE-paration

for this GUIDE you'll need:

See the full post

215 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

#3

Firefox Quick-setup (5 steps !)

for everyone considering the switch to Firefox: here's your 101. we're going for 'sweet spot' privacy/convenience* here. minimal steps, maximal result.

the steps:

download Firefox, install and run

disable data collection, verify Total Cookie Protection is on

(optional) import settings from your old browser

switch from Google to DuckDuckGo

install uBlock Origin and Privacy Possum

*aka "i hate targeted ads but i'm not Snowden"

details below the cut !! also, optional steps for more privacy d:

step 1: download Firefox, install and run

windows and mac: click the link to the download page linux: use your distribution's software manager/app store (or package manager) to install firefox if it doesn't already come with your installation

it should look something like this when you open it

step 2: disable data collection, verify Total Cookie Protection is on

type about:preferences into the address bar and press enter. there's a ton of settings here to explore at your leisure, but we want to head to the Privacy & Security tab and scroll down to Firefox Data Collection and Use

See the full post

236 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

#2

okay but alt girls in summer dresses yes and yes

422 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the human brain is a marvel of biological engineering, but in the way a horse is

677 notes - Posted September 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[donnerpartyofone]

The following is crazily tangential and I'm realizing that it centrally involves a quote I misremembered, but anyway I promise I'm going somewhere with this:

A week or two ago I noticed these fliers popping up around my neighborhood advertising something called "Untitled (Garden)" by the Artmageddon Collective. The fliers were pretty crude, just white-on-black scrawl printed off a computer; I immediately recognized the aroma of a pseudo-punk art-as-protest project, and I just sort of ignored it. Then it turned up, much closer to my home than I might have preferred. The chainlink fence stretching between a row of apartments and an (awesome) sculptor's workshop was suddenly festooned with just, like, a bunch of trash: Beat up old toys, bolts of dirty fabric, broken costume jewelry, and the general type of thing you would sensibly throw in the garbage. Then folding chairs and a bench showed up along the very narrow sidewalk--which would be a lousy place to hang out in any case--spray painted with a borderline-illegible logo. Then the gate opened, and inside was...you know. A bunch of junk. The raw, filthy lot inside was dotted with a few folding tables and...I guess some stuff that might facilitate growing plants? But mostly it seemed to be a lot of plywood pallets and beat-up containers and dusty tents, and it just looked like a great place to get tetanus. Outside, a hand-drawn sign requested donations of seeds, bulbs, planters, and other stuff that may or may not be plant-related. It seems like it sometimes hosts some sort of market for people to peddle their little DIY wares, although the photos the collective posted online are not especially compelling: The vendor I can see most clearly offers something called "Lyric Realm: Poets And Musicians In Hand Drawn Maps", and I honestly have no idea what the product exactly is (I mean "hand drawn maps", yes, but what about the rest of the qualifiers? And why??) Overall, it's just really unclear what the motivation is for this whole thing, and it looks like a) something that was assembled by unsupervised children, and b) something you don't want your children running around in unsupervised. Somebody could get hurt, or sick.

I think it's very unlikely that members of the (sigh) Artmageddon Collective are reading this blog, but if you are I will just say that you have as much right to do whatever you're doing as I have to make fun of it. Although I'm a little worried about the old time neighbors, especially those people right on the end who have a permanent memorial installation for their lost loved ones butting up against the beginning of your dirty, broken toy gallery.

Anyway, the reason I was thinking about all this is just this question I have about how aesthetics factor into social revolution. I had misremembered a quote from John Waters that actually has to do with online actions and communities; I incorrectly remembered him suggesting that general-millennials are sorely lacking a compelling fashion statement to go along with their resistance movements. Of course I was just projecting because that's what I actually think! For the sake of argument, this was the quote:

It got me thinking about how in leftist, change-motivated communities there is this tension between the desire to be visually outrageous, and the fear of subscribing to any established aesthetic philosophy that could be potentially cliched or stereotypical, or otherwise conformist in some way. Like the chaos of originality is an appealing concept, but unless you're a total genius, it doesn't usually produce a compelling look. Especially in the last 10 years or so I've seen a lot of absolute shit looks among people who are trying to lead politically progressive lives, and honestly? If you kind of look like a dirty old clown, it's really hard to take anything you have to say seriously, even if you're right and it's important.

I think there must be a lot of people who think that in order to express their rejection of a stagnant and conservative past, they absolutely have to choose fashions that absolutely no one has chosen before--and of course, the obvious pitfall is that there are a lot of fashions that normally go unused because they are bad. They're ugly and a bad idea, and not just according to one culture's taste, but like...objectively so. I accept that some people might be out to specifically offend others with their appearance, but intuition and experience tell me that most of these folks might be trying to alienate some of the people some of the time, but mainly they are trying to find their own form of beauty. Unfortunately they are doing this by just choosing the opposite of whatever is normally accepted, which is actually its own form of rigid, systematized, non-chaotic thinking. It doesn't tend to produce anything fresh and inspiring.

Incidentally the real opposite of the tyranny of fashion is what my first, and maybe only real punk friend started doing in high school, and she never stopped, which is to just dress like a fucking banker or something. She knew absolutely everything about underground music and was way ahead of everyone we knew re: useful forms of rebellion, and she just had no interest in attracting attention by looking freaky. On some level her refusal to aestheticize her philosophy was the most punk thing about her, in a collection of very punk qualities.

Anyway: Besides the conversion of a nearby vacant lot into a crusty pedestrian mall, the other thing that got me on this track was my piece about Julian Beck. I think he and his whole story are totally fascinating, but I'd be lying if I said I really loved avant-garde theater, or even theater in general, and the documentary I watched on his group The Living Theatre was more or less what I expected. You have these guys who believe that they are way out on the bleeding edge of enlightening revolution, that they are throwing off the chains of every oppressive standard and stereotype that has gone before...and yet something about it feels totally stereotypical. There's a certain mannerism of the intellectual far-out mind-blower that has become so familiar that I almost felt like I was watching a Christopher Guest mockumentary instead of a real document of a certain time and place when people were plunging themselves willingly into chaos in a desperate, noble search for change. Some of the performance footage is actually exciting, it has this explosive rock show energy that's genuinely impressive, but there's also a lot of overly familiar "acting crazy" and this speech affectation that--even if it is different from the mainstream--is just that, an affectation, a predictable fashion gesture disguising itself as the battle cry of a revolutionary.

I'm not even a complete outsider to all this, on some level I'm coming from a place of feeling sorry for people I have known and loved. There has been a good number of people in my life who felt that their only path to liberation was in rejecting everything that came before in pursuit of pure originality...and I watched this kind of ruin their lives. They couldn't touch anything that they felt had become culturally acceptable in pretty much any context. They lived in fear of becoming acceptable themselves. It warped their personalities and it warped their art; I mean if you're always avoiding whatever the mainstream says, that means that the mainstream is always dictating what you can say or do. Just because you're doing the opposite doesn't mean that you're not inextricably tied to mainstream mandates, and if you get really infected with this paranoia you can start self-censoring to the point that you don't really know who you naturally are or what you might naturally enjoy.

I think the first time I started thinking about this was during the early 2000's UK Invasion in the comics world. All those writers had a whole thing about conformity and social revolution that had this vibe of like, 1960s counterculture by way of the '60s revival of the 1990s. The most obvious example was Grant Morrison's book The Invisibles, which involved a superhero team of non-conformists fighting some transdimensional beings that obviously represented the forces of conformity. So the good guys came in these very recognizable flavors: there's your punk, your mod, your raver, etc. And I read enough of it that obviously I couldn't have hated it...but I kind of did. At a certain point I resented the assertion that these characters represented pure originality and freedom, because to me they all looked like very specific living cliches from Astor Place or whatever your regional equivalent is that's full of corny crust punks and modern hippies and kids trying to look like Willy Wonka or the Mad Hatter. You know what I mean. Just because you're broke doesn't mean you can't be a fashion victim!

So I'm including all these John Waters gifs because I think he is one of the few people in history who was able to pull off that chaos agent thing, of organizing rejected materials into something new and ingenious. His philosophy of good-bad taste and bad-bad taste is obvious in his work, but for most of us inferior Earthlings it's hard to re-articulate; we just know it when we see it, hopefully. But unless you're really taken with the spirit of something you Must Say, don't give in to the delusion that being chaotic is the same thing as being original. In all likelihood you're just undermining your own point by looking ridiculous. And you might even be ruining a perfectly good vacant lot.

The Not-Blogtober That Haunts Us

If you were born in the 1980s, then you are likely to be part of a whole generation of viewers who were lulled into a false sense of security by the newly-minted PG-13 rating and subsequently scarred for life by the Preacher Kane in POLTERGEIST 2: THE OTHER SIDE. The guy is so iconic that I must have assumed he was somehow real, because it took me years to finally look up anything about Julian Beck. As it turns out there is a lot to know about Julian Beck! I didn't even get every single one of the highlights into this piece, but I supposed anybody who reads it can find out more for themselves:

Beck was the co-founder of The Living Theater, a revolutionary performance group who got themselves arrested everywhere they went. The more I learned about Beck, the more surprising I found it that he had any relationship with Hollywood at all, however brief. But actually there were a number of political dissidents in POLTERGEIST 2, including Native American activist Will Sampson and Zelda Rubinstein, who was outspoken about the AIDS crisis early on. I wonder if you could somehow count stuntman Noble Craig, who lost three limbs in Vietnam and who you have probably seen in a number of horror roles including POLTERGEIST 2's "Vomit Creature". I have a whole tee shirt of him!

[did-you-fall-for-a-shooting-star]

Its. So fun. When people dont see what you put in a reblog. And yell about the same things. On a post from. 4 months ago.

Like. Buddy. Ive already addressed exactly what you just said. Fuck off.

[reallyromealone]

Yandere! Mikey x male reader

Its my first time writing yandere stuff and it's a weird transition from fluff so please don't be mean to me about it I did my best @the-punkrock-punk-rock can testify I'm a weenie who eats basically anything

Also I find it so fun when people find my shit posting account like "how? It's such a super secret name" as if it weren't literally a word shorter than this blogs name

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

The worst day of (name)s life was when Manjiro Sano broke up with him.

Mikey had began changing for the worse and (name) tried desperately to hold on.

To be there for him.

To give him love.

But the blond didn't even break up with him in person.

Just a scrap piece of paper.

'im breaking up with you'

That's all it said and god he wanted it to be a sick joke, for Mikey to come out and hold him close but he knew it was nothing more than painful truth.

Time had passed, (name) managing to pick up the pieces of his broken heart and it wasn't the same but he managed.

Took down the pictures of them together, put his clothes and belongings in boxes and in storage as it just became to painful to look at.

Put the engagement ring he was going to give Manjiro--- no it was Mikey now, Manjiro left long ago.

He couldn't bring himself to get rid of the ring, it held so much power over his heart and mind.

A reminder of just how much he loves the other.

He had to leave for a bit.

Tokyo brought him so much pain.

And it gets harder to ignore the rise of 'Bonten'

That was four years ago.

(name) was now twenty four.

His job had brought him back to the city that never sleeps.

"Tokyo I'm home..." (Name) mumbled as he made his way to the apartment, his cousins and friends already there setting up furniture "Hakkai, I think that leg goes here..." Chifuyu said with uncertainty as they tried to put together a coffee table as the Kawata twins, (name)s cousins were arguing lightly about putting together his bookshelf "what's going on here?" (Name) asked lightly, a soft smile playing at his lips as the room halted and all eyes were on him.

He barely had time to process the bone crushing hug he was pulled into by the four men, all yelling and complaining about him being gone for so long "I got you your first two weeks of groceries so you don't gotta worry about that" Mitsuya said from the small kitchen, the man still looking elegant as ever.

(name) smiled appreciatively as the four let him go slowly "hey guys I'm home" he said softly and frowned when three out of four were on the verge of tears, Nahoya no longer smiling.

"we missed you so much... What happened?"

"he really left like that?" Mitsuya said in shock, surely Mikey wouldn't have left so coldly... even for him it was strange.

Mikey always made a point to tell (name) his feelings face to face.

No secrets, no avoiding.

But one supposed he did become colder over time and you had to be stupid or living under a rock to not know what he's been up to these days.

"He's returned to Tokyo" Sanzu stated to the Bonten leader who was staring out into the city, somewhere in there was his former lover.

"I see..."

Mikey would be lying if be said he didn't miss his ex boyfriend, the only light in his life.

But he had to go.

It wasn't safe for them to be near one another at that time.

But now all the dominos fell into place.

He had set cameras and mics into (name)s apartment, heart warming at the others voice he missed daily.

"should we begin the plan?"

"yes"

(name) was excited as he began his job, a simple job as a bakers hand and helping unload supplies from the truck and coming early in the morning to help prep for the day.

Life began to slowly build up for him, good friends and family and a job he loved.

That was until he came in.

Haruchiyo "Sanzu" Akashi.

He changed drastically, still unreasonably pretty but he looked a bit more... unhinged so to say.

He was still an intimidating presence to say the least.

"(name)?" Sanzu said with a very convincing act, pretending he was shocked to see the other and (name) bristled slightly before offering a soft customer service smile "hello Sanzu, it's been a while" (name) said calmly "what can I do you for?"

"his usual"

(name) froze at the order, he didn't even need to ask who it was for, he knew.

He ordered the same thing every time.

Mikey really hasn't changed in that regard huh?

"it will be ready in ten" (name)s voice was clipped as he moved swiftly to prepare the order, bagging it and filling the overly sweet beverage and capping it "it's 1,253 yen" (name) said simply as Sanzu handed him way more than needed "keep the change" he said with a smile before walking out.

He got the food and a wonderful realization.

(name) was fragile still.

Perfect.

Mikey was watching the cameras, facinated by his sweet little lamb going about his day to day.

It was (name)s day off and he decided he wanted to bake a cake.

God he was precious! His sweet little housewife was just absolutely darling!

Mikey couldn't wait to have him bake cakes for him!

He had ordered everything for his penthouse, everything (name) could possibly want.

Now he just had to make his debut.

Weeks had passed since (name) had seen Sanzu, but he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on him.

Everywhere.

Even in the shower.

It was unsettling to say the least.

Like no place was safe for him.

He had finished a shift late, having done some overtime for his boss and just wanted to pass out at this point.

Unlocking his door, he almost dropped his bag when he noticed what was seated on his coffee table.

(favorite flower).

The flowers he gifted Mikey their first date.

How did they get in here?

Panicking (name) grabbed his phone, panicking as he tried to dial the police as something heavy knocked him out.

"shhh, don't worry it will be all ok now" a voice rang in his barely conscious mind.

"Mikey is ready now"

Waking up, (name) felt heavy and groggy.

Snuggling into the soft bed and warm blankets, he sighed as strong arms held him close.

Wait what?

Panicking, (name) pushed away from the arms as the stranger groaned, obliviously annoyed.

"go to bed..." An all to familiar voice rang out and (name) felt his heart leap to his throat "Mikey...?" He whispered horrified, the familiar black eyes staring back at him in the dark room.

"I'm back baby..." Mikey whispered and pulled the other close, ignoring the panic struggle from the other "I'm sorry I had to go baby...I'm back now though so you don't gotta worry" his voice was groggy with sleep and years ago that would have brought him warmth.

But now it made his blood run cold.

Pushing him away (name) tried to run out only to fall mere feet away as something tugged on their ankle.

Something cold and heavy.

Looking back, shackles sat tightly in his ankle and Mikey just tutted as if he was scolding a small child "baby we can't have you running off now...come now" he practically commanded as (name) took in the other, a complete stranger to the man he once loved.

He was colder now.

Those eyes lacked the warmth they once had.

"fuck you!" (Name) practically spat as he desperately tried to get the shackles off "now now, that's no way to talk to your husband no?"

"what the fuck are you talking about?!"

"you're my little wife now, I decided that a while ago... I saw the ring ya know? Before I left" Mikey said softly as he came forward and knelt infront of the other, catching (name)s ankle when he attempted to kick him and applying slight pressure as a warning to behave before kissing the others ankle gently.

"back of the second drawer beside the fridge"

"I accept your proposal (name)~"

"nonononono! You left me! You fucking kidnapped me you psycho!" (Name) yelled out and Mikey payed no mind to the others little tantrum as he pulled him closer by the ankle, the sound of metal chains clanking.

now now, don't be mean..." Mikey whispered as he lifted up the struggling man and dropped him on the bed "we can discuss this more in the morning, remember good boys get a reward" Mikey said with mock kindness "and bad boys have to watch their friends loose fingernails" he continued with the same kindness as he gently a traced a finger along the others cheek, stopping at the others lips.

Panic bubbled in (name), the threat very serious as he shook slightly "so will you be my good boy?" Mikey asked and (name) stayed still and Mikey grew slightly impatient "I asked you a question" his voice grew serious as he grabbed the others jaw with slight pressure "y-yes..."

"good, now let's sleep baby, we got a big day tomorrow!"

[jungkxook]

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. ��It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[universal-kitty]

1 for the AU meme for your ship with REGGIE I MEAN WRENCH

Reverse Self-Ship AU Meme

[ referencing This Post ]

What kind of blog does your f/o have?

A general self-ship blog! It's largely focused on the game and pictures of the MC- me!- but he also ship-posts a LOT in reference to his self-ship. Like... As far as "balance" goes, the blog is probably structured about...70% game posts (with majority being his own screenshots), 30% his self-ship content (commissioned art, fanfic [his and comm'd], etc.)

Do they selfship on main?

Yes and no. His main blog has largely been abandoned after he started self-shipping. Said sideblog used to also be a "gaming" sideblog, before he got neck-deep in the game and decided to just give in.

So the blog isn't a main blog, but it might as well be, since it gets more love than most of his accounts. (His Twitter is second-most used. He still retweets pics from the game or fanart, tho.)

Do they look like a regular fan?

More or less, yeah! He still dresses as he did in his OG canon (so very punk, wears his full, electronic mask OR a "face mask" that's all deco'd up), but when lazing around at home or going to a convention, he'll start wearing merch. Maybe on bad/need-comfort days, too.

Otherwise, you'd be hard-pressed to know the shit-talking punk at the local gig is a huge self-ship nerd in love with a video game character.

Quiet reblogs or lots of gushing?

SO much gushing. It's why he made the blog! His friends were sick of him filling up the group chat with his gush-posts, so he understood...and made a blog about it, instead. (Marcus follows it and cheers him on; it was sorta his "fault" that this happened, anyways.)

He's shy to gush on other people's posts/art/etc., so you'll see him get quieter there...but it's very not uncommon for him to make a post after the reblog and gush there, instead. So he doesn't embarrass himself with far more public gushing.

Lots of analyses of your character and your source or incoherent blabbering?

Both! Incoherent blabbering is what most people get after the content runs dry or he doesn't have energy/time that day to get more content... Though he uses his rudimentary people skills (of which he admits to having little) to analyze the game and my character.

...He's also the Fandom Troublemaker as he sometimes posts hot takes in the tags. Largely that he fully believes none of my romance interests are good enough for me and I deserve better, etc. etc. He's a little shit and doesn't pretend otherwise, but there are DEFINITELY people in the fandom who are sick of hearing him, LMAO. (Those who don't have him blocked at this point try to troll... Only to typically get hacked. Bigger "crimes" get worse off, too; Wrench and Co. don't hold back. He's a nuisance, but he's THEIR nuisance and they'll help him shoot back when someone gets really bad.)

Do they have a headcanon blog?

He's considered it, but ended up just following HC blogs, instead. He's admittedly pretty jealous and very picky on what ships he likes (which are few and far between, especially in-canon), so... He'd rather separate himself from that side of things.

Do they try to roleplay as you?

Also no! 😂 Again with the jealousy/clingy thing... However, he does do F/O Takeovers! He loves those and getting to write out his ideas of how I act, how our relationship is, etc.

(He is definitely the type to icon collect, tho. Another reason why he loves Takeovers! Finally, his screenshotting and editing skills are put to use...!)

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

sometime in this last week, or this week coming, my blog has turned/turns 10. god. a decade old. a whole ass chunk of my life i’ve spent on this hellsite. when i began on here, i was a kid. a lost, lonely, depressed and anxious 15/16 year old kid. a kid scared of her future. a kid confused about her future. what to do for uni. to change schools or not??? to do drama/acting at uni or english/philosophy or to move 8hrs away to another regional uni to “escape” her “washed up, dead end hometown” that was so typical of all the pop-punk music that she was listening to at the time.

she was a tad overdramatic, loud, “funny” (as described by her school friends) and terribly forgetful in regards to homework and school assignments. she was angry at the world, most especially the catholic school she was fucking sick and tired of attending. but she was convinced that since she was the so-called “funny girl”, that she simply couldn’t be depressed or anxious. she believed herself unloveable because she didn’t look like a weird mixture of hayley williams and emo-pop queen lights. but now, i no longer believe that i have to look like the women that i looked up to in the ~emo scene~. fuck beauty standards. i am loveable.

in the years since joining tumblr, i’ve managed to get through business college, my undergrad degree and, well, failed out of postgrad due to obvious burnout and health issues amongst other things. although i’ve lost many friends irl and many followers/mutuals online on here. for those who’ve stuck around to see me get through all of this, thank you. to all the friends/casual mutuals that have since deactivated or only followed me for a short time then unfollowed; thank you.

like obviously i was never/have never been a massive popular blog on here, like thebootydiaries or vampireapologist (who has since deactivated a couple of months ago) with tens of thousands of followers. my follower count is still close to the 8,000 range at 7,892. obviously that’s still a lot of people (and of course, porn bots lmao and many, many non-active blogs), enough like one super old post from like 2012 tumblr pointed out, enough for a small to medium sized city or town, or something like that. i don’t know how many people i’ve really reached. i really don’t know how i actually amassed this small army of people.

i am aware though, that on other platforms like snapchat (lmao does anyone even use it anymore in 2021???)/instagram/youtube/tiktok etc, i’d PROBABLY be considered as some type of ~micro influencer (🤮🤮)~. hell, i actually had a bot slide into my notes about being one on here on this hellsite back in 2019. i don’t know if i’ve ever actually ~influenced~ anyone on here with my shitposts (when i started making some) or my personal posts. i don’t know my reach. even though, now, i do occasionally get featured on buzzfeed listicles (although pay me buzzfeed along with the OPs of those original embedded posts), i still don’t know how many people i’ve reached… and even with my very occasional checks of google analytics lmao. on top of this, grappling with the loss of followers at times is much, much easier than it was when i began on here and the first few years following that. i know that my follower count doesn’t determine my worth and stuff.

but over these 10 years, i have grown. i turn 26 this year. back in 2011, 15/16yo me never thought she’d be here. she was partially down the suicidal thoughts hole, with things about ~picturing her funeral and wondering who’d bother to turn up. if only she could pretend to be dead for a day to see who’d give a fuck~ and 16-18yo me was defs down it with her HSC hellscape thoughts in 2012/2013. that 3rd floor tafe/tech women’s bathroom window drop and the thought of scarring her class for life (and that cool dude from catholic school that she crushed on who ended up at tafe with her) with jumping out of it onto the concrete below. instead, she just posted on fb about ~being a failure~ etc which ultimately did lose her a bunch of facebook friends lmao. it was practically the same thing. her mental breakdown after the end of her hsc, where she let her earrings go green and get infected in her ears because “fuck self care, bc what the fuck is it??? i’ll never get better! let me fucking wallow in my self loathing bc it’s the only thing that i’m fucking good at!!!” so i no longer have my ears pierced. oh! it was just all too fucking much!!

i am happier today. i no longer have those semi-suicidal thoughts. hell, i almost died in 2020 from a fucking bowel aneurysm, after my stomach tumour excision surgery. that forced me to put things into perspective. i appreciate the little things . i appreciate the very few friends that i actually have. yes. i’m still depressed and anxious. some days are still shitty and hard. but nowhere as hard and shitty as they were back when i began on here 10 years ago.

how the fuck last 10 years have gone past, with my ass on here; clearing out my blog and caring more about doing that than my uni work (lmao whoops); having made some lifelong friends both internationally (from the US) and long distance domestically in australia, it’s been a long ride; i honestly have no fucking idea. obviously over these past 10 years, i’ve debated with myself over and over and over again whether i should delete/deactivate this account or not. would it make me healthier??? more than likely. but then when i have meltdowns or just inner ramblings i have to get out somewhere, where else to post??? on fb?? obvs not. it’s “attention seeking” or the like on there. no one will read them. no one will resonate. but on here??? even if i got/get one “like” in the notes or one “yo i feel this” response in the tags or replies, it feels like i’ve reached someone??? okay yeah. i know this place IS NOT therapy and i’m not using my followers as amateur (or probs even actual professional) armchair psychologists…. which is a thing i think people need to stop doing internet-wide: but that’s a whole other post that i reblogged a few days ago lmao. i really need to get another therapist, actually lmao.

but it’s the community i’ve found hard to leave. i have what feel like friends, when i’ve never been employed (still as of yet); and when all of my irl friends/acquaintances are working and doing the whole ~adulting~ and ~grown up life~ thing right. it’s also the frenzied rabidness of spite with hating staff’s godawful ideas. the memes. oh the memes. and also the RaWrInG 20s XD emo scene reemergence on here that’s kept me here. the messy petty drama from time to time of big blogs fighting it out.

this place really is bizarre and fun sometimes. and also the fact that i can still hide behind the ridiculous “roaring pikachu” URL that i made all those years ago. i am anonymous. it’s freeing. but on fb it’s all like “WHY WONT YOU ADD A BANNER IMAGE AND TELL US 20 FUN FACTS ABOUT YOU!!!!!???? LET PEOPLE WHO HAVENT SPOKEN TO YOU IN 10 YEARS KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU BECAUSE WE’RE ALL FRIENDS HERE!!!” and the same goes for Corporate Hellscape Facebook™️ (linkedin) but in the professional sense instead. y’all know fuck all about me really. besides my posts. and i love that and live for that. okay yeah. y’all know more about my mental health than my fb feed obvs… which is probably a terribly unfortunate thing. but still.

over the last 10 years then, my superiority complex for being ~so original and intelligent~ or whatever the fuck i had in high school, has all but ebbed away. i’m not that smart just because i went to uni. hell, i literally did NONE of my in-class work and none of my philosophy readings in uni….. so i have fuck all idea of how i got through undergrad like that lmao. i’m not original when so many people can articulate the same thoughts that i have, but like, sometimes better, on a post (even though sometimes/most of the time the Tumblr User Hot Takes Tuesday™️ takes on here are fucking awful lmao). but still. originality is not something i really have anymore. or really had in the first place lmao.

so will i deactivate after these 10 years, like i’ve been saying for so, so long??? i honestly have no idea. but just know. thanks guise. have a nice gpoy selfie day XD. grab your wands. your tardises. grab your war paint. grab your whatever the fuck other fandom specific stuff that was one that hella cringe post from 2011 til 2015 random tumblr. that relic is as old as time itself. just as this mysterious roaring pikachu is for someone whose too loyal to leave this W E B B E D H E L L S I T E that’s just as much of a train wreck as she is. lmao.

[dittydipity]

i decided to sort of live blog(?) my thoughts while watching detroit:evolution like i did with d:a, and since i don’t want to spam the tag i put everything into one post, so watch out for the very very long post ahead

ok that’s a sick logo intro. always a sucker for neons

f in chat boys

nines: i’ll see in you court / gavin: let’s do it baby, i know the law

THE BANTS

leave chris alone damn son

wait that was just the intro?? hello???

ooh i can tell this opening theme was inspired by the opening theme of dbh and the whole intro cinematic definitely reflects that. this theme does have an element of unease and suspicion that the original didn’t have and i think that’s great

ok right off the bat: nines using pavlovian conditioning on gavin to make him ‘behave’ is 100% canon

carla is killing it as tina, you go girl

gavin with braincells? big brain gavin???

nines @ dpd black market intel people: that’s illegal people can’t do that

wow nines really pulled a “what the fuck did you just say about me you little punk? i’ll have you know i’m the most advanced android model and i have a database in my brain with over 200,000 english words”

OKAY THE ‘BLOW A KISS TO YOUR FACE AND A MIDDLE FINGER TO YOUR BACK’ MOVE IS PHENOMENAL catch me doing that on the daily

ada: hi / gavin: she was all over you nines

gavin: so are you two gonna fuck / nines: wuhhguhwh *red led* excuse me *offended noises* i do not have the capability to “””””fuck”””””

gavin: dude look it’s a suspicious individual that could be extremely pertinent to this case / nines: so tell me about your feelings

hi i both love and hate the fact that their positioning makes it so that gavin can’t see nines’ led

also i do love how every moment of this feels packed with importance. the silences, the pauses are just as important, if not more, than moments with dialogue and action. the acting from everyone and the micro-expressions are done so well that i sometimes forget that this is all acting and not the actual characters. the camera work accentuates all of this by focusing on things we maybe wouldn’t have noticed on our own, or things certain characters don’t have privy to that result in that sweet, sweet dramatic irony

ah yes i hate it when i accidentally drop a dismembered arm from my entirely inconspicuous crate. at least my bright glowing neon blue boa is here to keep me company and hidden from any possible law enforcement officers that may be on stake out

idk about you but if i was a seasoned criminal i too would be rocking sickass sunglasses and a feather boa. got to dress the part

me getting interrogated by the police for being found with a dead person’s body part on me: 😎 *finger guns*

gavin+nines: cool motive, still crime

dude michael how are your eyelashes so goddamn lush and long

gays in chat: T e n d e r

“this will all still be here in the morning”

buy one ‘this’ and get one nines free

gavin: i’m fine / narrator: he was not fine.

nines: i think i will give gavin a biology lesson as he recovers from a nightmare

music music m u s i c

gavin: please don’t remember that / [nines will remember that]

gavin: oh god oh fuck we can’t let him know we have feelings and emotions like a person

all these different parts, is someone building a super android with parts from specialized androids?

google how do i marry scene lighting

tina and chris are the only thing keeping this family together

ada sorta sus tho

hi welcome to therapy in an alleyway in front of a bar with nines. this will go very well.

ada very sus tho

nines: hey ada this extremely suspicious dark alley with a dead end isn’t the way back to jericho

oh god gavin has the braincell that’s why nines doesn’t oh no

f in chat bois

on GOD the lighting is incredible and the ambient music??

oh ada is amanda but shortened goddammit

o o f ada throwing nines’ words back at him

tina holds 99% of the dpd’s braincells. mvp

gavin: tina is no longer my best friend (still obviously friends), nines is now my best friend

props to maximilian for lying still for so long that’s impressive

gavin: pouring his heart out / nines: WAKE ME UP. WAKE ME UP INSIDE. CAN’T WAKE UP

“i hate you.” “you love me” OHOHO HOW THE TURN TABLES

kamski, making rk900: this prototype model can have a little ability to kiss. as a treat

and they bounce back so quickly i’m-

chris is all of chat

let tina be detective 2k38

chris: don’t- / gavin: imma bust a cap in her ass

NINES WITH A CROWBAR WHAT WILL HE DO

get his ass kicked i guess

local detroit football coach commits tax fraud

octopunk gang said ace rights but also made a 75 minute movie to back it up

this credits music??? turn up for WHAT

once again the octopunkmedia crew has created an incredible work of art and film, shoutout to everyone in the cast, crew, and everyone who supported this production!

[s1cparvism4gna]

PuNK

WARNINGS: SMUUUUT, cursing

Pairings: Rafe Adler x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch , @courtenbae , @tiecladartist

Author’s Note: I’m now going to be posting my fic chapters on this blog instead of the other. As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged 💕 enjoy! 😉

Chapter 6

Lyric’s POV

The next week at work was… strange to say the least. First of all, I’d never been so well rested. Second, I had gotten a call from the dive bar that some fancy guy came in and bought all the Floral and Fading tee shirts. All of them. ‘Who needs 150 band tees? That are the same….’ I thought. I tried not to think much of it but we made a lot of money from it. Enough to get groceries and laundry done and enough to splurge on getting my nails done for Italy (which I still couldn’t believe I was even going!). The third reason, which was the strangest of them all, was Rafe. He was acting weird. And by weird, I mean he’d been smiling more and saying his morning greetings pleasantly. Instead of yelling bloody murder when he asked things of me, he’d temporarily step out of his office to physically look at me and pose his questions. And he’d say things like “please” or “would you mind”.... I was almost convinced he’d been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone. He would let me go home early, he would extend my lunch breaks, and he even invited me to join him at lunch. On more than one occasion. To which I immediately but politely declined. It was too much too soon. It felt like a trap.

By the time Thursday rolled around, I had everything packed to go. The air in the office was as normal as always. Everyone was tired and complained about how shitty their morning was. Everyone but my coworker Winter who was solely interested in Rafe and I’s upcoming trip to Italy. But for all the wrong reasons…

“I just think he might have a little crush on you is all.” She said, scribbling in her journal and typing up something in her computer. I snorted rather loudly as I sipped on my coffee.

“That’s bullshit if I ever heard it—”

“Just hear me out!” She exclaimed, low enough for only the two of us to hear. She stood from her desk and scuttled over to sit on the edge of mine. I leaned back into my seat, legs crossed and lips pursed to keep myself from bursting into laughter.

“Please. I would love to hear your reasoning.” I said, awaiting her answer as if I was waiting for the punchline of a joke to kick in. She pushed her blonde hair behind her ears and leaned towards me.

“First of all, it’s really not that far off. He relies on you to get shit done around here. If you weren’t here, he’d be a wreck, this office would be a mess, and half of us would lose our jobs. Two! You haven’t even seen how he’s been looking at you lately—”

“He doesn’t see me—” I interrupted briefly, tugging on the collar of my light pink turtleneck and sipping my coffee.

“Bullshit. The other day when you two were in a meeting, you got up to do something for Mr. Ackles and I looked up for a split second, glanced in the conference room…. I swear to God, he could not stop staring at you. I mean everywhere you moved in the room, his eyes were on you.” She said to me. I crinkled my brows and opened my mouth to refute but truthfully I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m his assistant! He’s probably making sure that I don’t fuck up—” She made a face for me to shut up. So I tilted my head as she continued.

“And let's be real about this: we can not act like he’s not the most attractive man in the building.” She winked at me, looking around to make sure he wasn’t around. She wasn’t wrong. Rafe was very attractive. I just never stared long enough to be under his thrall. And I never would. He was much too uptight for me. “Ricki, look. You’re 32. You’re not gonna get any younger. And that punk act you’ve got going on isn't gonna last forever.” I scoffed, trying my best not to be offended. I put blood, sweat, tears, money, and sleep loss into my musical career.

“Wow…” I laughed, blinking at her a bit.

“Not saying that you won’t make it but… isn’t that type of music generally for the younger crowd?” She asked me. She wasn’t really helping herself.

“Keep on callin’ me old, Winter….” I warned her in a half joking tone.

“I just think that if it turns out that he really does like you, you’d be stupid to not at least try it out—”

“Okay, you know what? I don’t care how he looks at me. The man dramatically spits out coffee if it’s not the right temperature. Why do I need that kinda stress in my life?”

“Because he’s rich.”

“I don’t care about that. He’s a shitty person.” I said simply, ending the conversation as I grabbed a file from behind her and opened it to read. She gave a frustrated sigh and crossed her arms, looking at me in disappointment. I glanced up from the file and she was still standing there. “Was that all?” I asked in a slightly bitchy tone. She shook her head.

“You’re unbelievable.” She said, smacking the back of my head playfully and sitting at her desk.

“Unbelievably SICK!” I retorted, flipping her off momentarily and she chuckled. Just then, Rafe came stalking into the office.

“Good morning, Mr. Adler!” Winter greeted, like the kiss ass she tended to be. But he ignored her.

“Ms. Lewis, could you meet me in my office please?” He asked as he quickly walked by.

“Yes s-” Before I could even finish my answer, his door slammed shut. I blinked, unsure of what to even think. He was happy all week… ‘I hope he’s still happy…’ I thought as I stood. Winter and I exchanged glances and I entered his office. He was scarily quiet, his hands gripping onto the edge of his desk until his knuckles were white. His briefcase laid sprawled out on the floor; I assumed he tossed at the couch and it didn’t make it. I carefully closed the door behind me and walked towards his desk. Once again, I couldn’t help but ask. I rested my hands on one of the seats in front of his desk and crossed my ankles, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Are you okay?” I asked. He gave a deep sigh before curling his fingers into fists and punched the desk for a second. I jumped at the sudden noise as he sat down.

“No, Lyric. I’m not okay. I was but not anymore.” He answered through gritted teeth.

“What happened?” I sat down in the seat I was leaning on, smoothing out my skirt as he paced behind his desk. He began with a huff, already seeming more irritable the more he dwelled on it.

“Tell me… have you been keeping up with Samuel by any chance?”He asked as calmly as possible. I gave a nervous chuckle.

“What- do you think we keep tabs on each other like teenagers?” I answered. Truthfully, I hadn’t seen him in a very long time. I was almost disappointed. Almost. Rafe’s cheeks seemed to turn a faint pink for a moment as his poker face faltered a bit.

“No, no- I just…. I figured since you two were so close in the office that maybe you kept in touch...” he replied in a boyish tone.

“Are you jealous?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit clearly he wasn’t feeling it.

“Lyric, please… This is serious.” His tired green eyes locked with mine and I could immediately see that whatever the problem was was truly stressing him out. So I gave him a break.

“No. I haven’t heard from him.” I told him. He hummed at my answer and scratched at the stubble that attempted to appear on his chin. “Rafe, what’s going on?” I asked, beginning to feel concerned. He seemed to be doing a few breathing exercises before he answered.

“It seems that some of my research has gone missing.” He said, holding onto the back of his seat for dear life.

“And you think Sam took it?” I asked.

“Well he is a thief, after all… I wouldn’t put it past him.” he grumbled, putting his head in his hands. My eyes widened.

“No shit.”

“Yes shit. He didn’t just magically come out of thin air. I…” he paused to carefully choose his words. “I bailed him out.”

“Oh. Shit…. How long was he in for?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it.

“14 years…” he replied, running his fingers through his hair.

“For stealing?! What did he steal?! The Hope Diamond?!”

“Oh no he uh…. he killed a guard on the inside.” He mumbled.

“HE WHA- he what?!” I snapped.

“Yeah. Congratulations. You were flirting with a murderer.” He said in a sassy tone. I chuckled and denied it.

“No… I wasn’t...flirting-”

“You were just being friendly?” He said. I smirked at him.

“Oh piss off!” I said, playfully hitting his forearm. I half expected him to look at me like I was crazy but he just smiled small and huffed in frustration, resting his forehead on his desk.

“Ugh this is the fucking worst…” he said. “I bet he’s on his way to Italy for that cross now.”

“Okay cool- but it’s an auction. Last I checked he was broke as hell and the security will be so tight…. So don’t worry about it, okay?” I said, calmly. He searched my eyes for a moment and nodded. His shoulders dropped and he seemed a bit more at ease. I put a comforting hand over his and ran my thumb over his knuckles. “It’ll be fine. We are going to go to Italy, sip some wine, eat some pizza, and get all dressed up for this auction. And you’re going to walk out of the estate with this cross. I’m manifesting it. I am putting it into the ether.” I said as positively as possible. His eyes never left mine and his grip had tightened a little in my hand.

“Of all the fine cuisine that Rome has to offer, you still want... pizza?” He chuckled in amusement.

“Of course! I want real Italian pizza, okay? With melted mozzarella and fresh tomato sauce and all the seasonings! Not one from down the street...or a frozen box.” I said and the look he gave me shocked me. His eyes seemed to trace over every feature of my face and his cheeks faintly blushed again. For a second I began to wonder if this is what Winter saw. This look that he was giving me right now. That shy look of longing. He smiled and retrieved his briefcase, sitting it on his desk as he avoided my gaze.

“Very well. I’m sure there’s a decent pizzeria around.” He said, taking a seat.

“Yes!” I exclaimed as I stood to leave. “So remember! Don’t worry. You’ve got this all under control.” I said, backing out of the office. And with that, I went back to my own desk. I sat down with a sigh. I couldn’t shake the look he’d given me. I suddenly hated Winter for making me notice it. Something about him was no doubt changing and I was interested to see what. I sipped on my coffee and continued to work until the day was out.

Finally, it was time to go. I pulled my suitcase from under my desk and dragged it to sit next to me. The office had gone home for the day and my last order of business was to leave Winter instructions on what to do in our absence. I was literally shaking with excitement. I’d never been anywhere outside the country before. I couldn’t wait for a bit of warm weather. I was freezing my ass off here. Rafe seemed to keep his cool since I talked to him last and to be completely honest, I was glad about it. The last thing we needed was his temper on a whole 9 hour flight. After a while, he appeared from his office and closed his door behind him with a tired smile.

“You ready?” He asked me. I shot up from my seat and threw on my trench coat, making sure I had everything together.

“Absolutely!” I grinned.

“Allow me.” He said, lifting the handle of my suitcase and dragging it along behind him. I was surprised at him. I always knew he was a gentleman but I’d never been on the receiving end of it before.

We walked to the elevator that took us to the rooftop and waiting for us, on and ready, was the big white company plane. I stopped for a second as I watched Rafe board the plane to just appreciate the experience I was about to have. “Are you coming or are you just gonna stand there?!” I suddenly heard Rafe shout to me above the deafening engines, tearing me from my thoughts. I nodded and ran towards the plane, trying not to twist my ankles in the tall heels on my feet. He stretched out a hand to me and helped me up the small flight of stairs. We were greeted by the pilot and a stewardess and shown to what was pretty much a lounge on this plane. The interior of it all was absolutely gorgeous. There were lavish beige recliner seats and a couch to match. Portable desks were made cherry oak with golden cup holders and the carpets were a deep wine red with gold accents. Red curtains covered the windows and there were even decorative pillows and blankets— everything was made to match. When I sat down, the stewardess came in and immediately began asking us if we wanted food or drinks… or alcoholic beverages.

“We’ll take dinner here.” Rafe answered before I could even open my mouth. “I’m sure you’re starving by now, right?”

“Uh… yeah.” I whispered, shedding my jacket and sitting on the couch.

“What do you want?”

“What would you recommend?” I asked, truly unsure of what I wanted.

“Jack back there makes this roasted garlic chicken with vegetables that’s just… magic.” He chef’s kissed the air and I widened my eyes with a giggle, sitting back in my seat. I’d never seen Rafe so expressive.

“Well then I’ll have that!” I smiled. I watched him grin as he began loosening his tie, undoing a few buttons and rolling up the sleeves of his collared shirt, putting in an order for a seasoned fish and potatoes.

“Very good, sir. May I get the two of you started on drinks?”the stewardess asked.

“Chateau Margaux Red, in a chilled glass please.” He answered, opening and reaching into his briefcase to pull out a few folders and a pen. Then she turned to me.

“And for you, miss?” She asked with a kind smile.

“Um…. whiskey?” I answered vaguely.

“Is there a brand you prefer?”

“Um….. no. I usually just order whiskey and I get... whiskey.” I giggled nervously, scratching my head. In the corner of my eye, I could see Rafe smile a little, his shoulders bouncing from a light chuckle.

“Get her a glass of Glenfiddich.”He said and the two nodded at each other in agreement.

“Two glasses…. maybe three.” I corrected him and he laughed again.

“Yes,ma’am. I’ll be back shortly. We should be in the air in about 10 minutes.” She told us as she gave me a smile. I returned it and sat back on the couch, my fingers tapping on the arm. I was nervous about flying, I’d never flown before. But I couldn’t let him know that.

“You okay?” He asked suddenly.

“Yeah…. just… really want a cigarette…”

“Hmph. I didn’t know you smoked.” He said casually.

“Uh yeah…. I’m tryin’ to quit.” I mumbled.

“Well good. That shit does fuck all for your lungs anyway.” He said and I nodded with a smile. He just kept on surprising me. Ever since we left the office, it was like he’d become a different person. I’d never heard him swear so much leisurely. “So um, I still have a bit of work to do before we touchdown in Italy. I’m gonna have my earpiece in so—”

“Of course! I can be quiet.” I chimed. He just chuckled.

“After dinner, Lyric.” He smiled.

“I knew that.” I mumbled in embarrassment.

Just as the stewardess said, we were in the air in no time and starting our flight to Rome. We held a light conversation over dinner, sort of like an ice breaker. Contrary to what I originally thought, he was actually kind of funny. Or “punny” rather. We talked about work, people in the office, how he couldn’t stand his meetings with certain people and we had a list of them that we both agreed were the absolute worst people; for similar reasons too. Afterwards, he delved into his work and I curled up on the couch, playing a few games on my phone as I listened to music, continuously drinking glasses of whiskey until I couldn’t feel my face. I couldn’t help but take a few glances at him as he worked though. The veins in his forearms that bulged as he scribbled on papers and the sharp angle of his jaw as he threw his head back when he was exhausted or frustrated was hypnotizing to say the least. The muscles in his chest making themselves present beneath his collared shirt and vest, the few strands of hair that tended to fall out of place by the end of the workday, his striking green eyes… ‘Stop it, Ricki. It’s Rafe. It’s your boss. You shouldn’t look at him that way…. Why are you even looking at him that way?!’ I thought suddenly. I scoffed and turned my phone off to close my eyes; maybe I could get a nap in somewhere on this flight. Before I knew it, the warmth of the food in my stomach, the low vibrations of the plane, and the comfort of the couch paired with the multiple drinks I had seemed to be enough to send me to sleep. Then I began dreaming…

I was in the office. It was after hours by the looks of things. When I turned in my seat, the workroom was empty, all the desk lamps were on and I was the only one there. Looking down, I was dressed in a simple white collared shirt and a pencil skirt that seemed to be a tad shorter and tighter than normal. But it didn’t phase me one bit. Hard rock music played off of my speaker rather loudly and there was an unfinished email typed up on the computer before me. I sighed and turned around to continue working when I heard Rafe’s voice calling me. “Ms. Lewis, I need your assistance please!” He yelled. Like always, I groaned loudly and went stomping towards his office. When I walked in, he was sitting behind his desk with his legs kicked up on the edge. His hair was disheveled as I secretly realized I liked, the buttons on his vest undone and his tie loosened, the cuffs of his sleeves rolled off of his wrists displaying a fancy watch. I leaned into the doorway and placed a hand on my hip with a touch of attitude.

“What do you want, Rafe?” I asked, completely out of character. If I ever answered him like that for real, I would probably be fired. But instead of yelling, he just let his eyes run over my body, biting his lip with intrigue. I cocked my brow and crossed my arms, tapping my foot impatiently as a devious smile flashed across his face. My heart skipped a beat as he took his feet off the desk and turned his attention to his computer.

“I’m having a bit of trouble getting this PDF to open. Would you mind…?” He asked me. I blinked at him a moment and sighed.

“Yeah. Seeing as I have to do everything else for you.” I replied in annoyance. I started over to his desk and he moved out of the way. Not necessarily standing up, more like just rolled his chair away from the computer. I leaned over as he rested his head in his hand on the desk, so obviously gawking at me as I typed away. Suddenly, he reached out and pushed a lock of hair over my ear, his finger stroking my jaw and his hand running over my shoulder then down my back. His touch caused a stir in me and I let out a shaky sigh but I continued to work. The file wouldn’t open. It didn’t make any sense. I did what I would’ve done on my own computer. I opted to try again.

“What is it that Samuel has that I don’t?” He asked me suddenly, his hand rubbing circles at the small of my back. I was taken aback and snapped my head to stare at him. The look on his eyes was something hungry and needy; like he was trying to hold back from doing something.

“I… um—”

“What can he give you… that I can’t?” He asked, his hand slipping past my hips and over the rounds of my ass. My heart began to race as his fingers traced down the back of my leg. I almost went weak when he graced over the sensitive spot just above the back of my knee. His touch was so electrifying that I could barely think. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched my reactions carefully.

“He… I don’t—”

“You don’t even know do you?” He seemed to smirk as his fingers ghosted over my inner thigh, slipping by the split in my skirt a bit. He gripped onto my thigh tightly and as he stood, his fingers brushed over my clothed clit. “Do you even want him? Hm?” He breathed into my ear, pulling my hair off of my neck and letting his nose trace my jawline. I had forgotten what I was even doing in his office to begin with since he started touching me. I took a slow and deep breath as his cold lips pressed against the warm skin of my neck. I closed my eyes with a shiver as he began massaging my through my panties. “Answer me, Lyric.” He demanded, slapping my ass rather harshly. I gasped from the contact and my hands began to shake in excitement.

“Rafe, I—”

“Mr. Adler…” he corrected me.

“Mr. Adler, I don’t know what you mean…” I sighed.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way you look at him… Why don’t you look at me that way, huh?” He asked, lifting my skirt as he stood behind me, running his hands over my ass gently. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Ms. Lewis?” He groaned as he pressed himself against me, his hands now firm on my hips as he pulled me close to feel his growing hard-on. As he ran his hand up my spine, I felt my back arch for him. He continued to spank me until my cheeks turned red and the cool touch of his fingertips eased the pain. His fingers hooked around the hem of my panties and yanked them down my legs. He used his foot to kick my legs apart and carefully scooped up and handful of my hair, pulling on it a bit. He ran a chilling finger up my slick cunt and licked his fingers for a taste. He moaned in my ear as I let out shallow breaths.

“Just as I thought. You taste delicious…” He said and he continued to stroke my wetness until I was all worked up and began to finger me roughly. I was left groaning in need.

“Mr. Adler… please…” I whimpered, his fingers diving in and out of me.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” He asked in a deep alluring tone.

“Please fuck me—”

“Please fuck me, who?”

“Mr. Adler! Please fuck me, please!” I cried out. With a frustrated grunt, he pushed everything off of his desk, not caring about the mess and laid me down. He undid my blouse and cupped my breasts, leaving sloppy kisses all over my chest and he undid his belt. I didn’t see it but boy could I feel it as he entered me. He sucked on my nipples a while as I got used to his size and his hand travelled up to my neck, squeezing lightly as he began to move. He kept it slow, drawing out the feeling of my clit dragging along his length. I couldn’t keep myself from whining as he rolled into me.

“Fuck me harder.” I said suddenly. “Please fuck me harder, Mr. Adler.” I moaned, staring him right in the eyes. He gave an almost evil chuckle as he removed his tie from his neck and wrapped it around my wrists tightly, pushing my arms above my head. He hiked up my legs to wrap them around his waist and he began to drive into me. He hovered over me, staring into my eyes with so much lust and want as I squealed and moaned beneath him. He alternated between slow and fast paced, ramming into me until I felt myself beginning to come undone.

“Keep it up and you’re going to make me cum, Lyric.” He growled through his teeth, resting his forehead against mine with a satisfied lightly dimpled smile. And it was a damn gorgeous one at that.

“Cum in me. I want you to…” I shuddered. He laughed tiredly, cupping my cheeks with his surprisingly soft hands and kissing me deeply.

“Whatever you want…” He said darkly, his hand dragging from my cheek to my neck again. And this time he used both hands to choke me gently. He snapped his hips into me repeatedly, tears beginning to well in my eyes as I started to see stars.

“I’m gonna… I—” Just as I was about to release—

I felt a hand run down my shoulder, gently shaking me awake. When I opened my eyes, I was met with those striking greens and I gasped in embarrassment, moving away. Rafe has woken me up, sitting on the edge of the couch with a tired smile.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.” He said kindly as I sat up, a thick fabric falling off of my shoulders. He’d covered me with his jacket. My heart raced under his touch and I could feel my face burning as I looked into his eyes. “We’re about to land. I figured maybe you’d want to see the sky view.” He told me, pointing to the window behind my head. I turned my head to see a beautiful sunrise over what looked to be the Colosseum. I gasped and rose to my knees like a child to get a better look. All of the beautifully sculpted buildings and the bluest waters…

“This is amazing…” I said unknowingly.

“Wait until we actually get into the city.” He said in a soft tone of wonder similar to mine. I looked over at him and we shared a smile. This weekend was going to be an adventure for sure...

Full story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26598127/chapters/64850665

[geometricalien]

oh dear i'm super duper late but I have a lot of questions about your wips!! I wanna know more about sick Akashi, nekoma pirate crew, BoKuroo/BokuAka midsommer, Pining + Jacket, The truth burns and destroys, feeling good, Punk Noya, Strawberry Blonde, sunspot and the merman au!!! Thanks babe <333

Hi Vee!!! This is it, I spent wayyyyy too long on this, I think my finger is cramping from typing. But thank you for asking, I love sharing my ideas, sorry if it’s incorherent.

This is super long so it’s under the cut, saving people room

Sick Akashi 

So, it’s based off of a line prompt “I’d like it if you’d stay” and as the title suggests, 3rd year Akashi gets sick, sorry Vee it’s not fatal, Furihata comes to Rakuzan to check on his friend after he doesn’t answer his phone. The entire premise is Akashi works himself sick with his various responsibilities he takes on as “perfectionist who can’t show any cracks at all”. I don’t want Bokushi Akashi showing up so it’s minus the mental break elements. (also technically in canon terms it's after they have merged so yeah) I feel like they deserve a cute little “nurse” the other from a sickness ficlet. And… maybe… sick Akashi confesses…….. It’s almost a writing challenge for me because Akashi has a more polite sophisticated way of thinking and speaking, so cough yep

The rest are Haikyuu aus so buckle in

NEKOMA PIRATE CREW 

Admittedly this is more loose, less of a solid idea. It’s Yaku centric, and how he went from a merchant from his grandfather’s company searching for lost merchandise and became the first mate who keeps track of the ship's finances and keeps their captain Kuroo on track. Other things of note, he meets Kuroo first as a pirate on another ship who stole his merchandise, Kenma is a sea witch (is that science or magic? That's always the question), and about halfway through the adventure they get Lev on board as a new member. So yeah! Kinda a fetch quest but on of my favorite fanfics is legitimately a fetch quest so it's okay fjdkaljf

BoKuroo/BokuAka Midsommer

This is based off of a fanart by desdelasombra my friend Shayla showed it to me and we threw this idea around together, we really don’t want to write it but it's also spectacular. So it's the movie Midsommar, right? Bokuto is a “gatherer” bringing his friends to come join in his village’s rituals. But we didn’t want anyone to die (except for Kenma sorry he’s dead as the substitute for the main character’s sister), so a grieving Kuroo comes with his boyfriend Bokuto, joined by their friends the smart studious and jaded Oikawa and bright bubbly Hinata. Obviously the three react badly to the first ritual and Bokuto doesn’t understand because for him it’s always been a joyful experience and he wanted to share it with his friends. A Lot of things happen, but most important is Akaashi and Kuroo dancing under the may pole together. BokuAka was in the past when Bokuto was home so part of this is them coming together as poly and escaping the final scene of the movie. Again this is very painful but that art is beautiful and the world is better for it being created

Pining + Jacket (KuroLev)

Again this is a line prompt about lending a jacket because it’s cold and it had so much potential for pining and who is the most pining bastard that I know? LEV and Shayla told me about KuroLev and somehow this happened. It’s currently going to be a sequence of drabbles of Lev pining after Kuroo, what else could you ask for? Uh? Lev confessing to Kuroo and them going out??? Sorry I can’t hear you over the exquisite angst and pain of one sided love that I want to explore

The truth burns and destroys

GOOD CHOICE, I began this on saturday night and it has earned a very special place in my heart. Sometimes I fear that my writing is like a lazy pool, sure it's nice and easy and smooth but there isn’t an intensity or raw emotions, BUT THIS this accomplishes what I want. And I’m really glad, its metaphor and imagery heavy but it really captures their emotions and thoughts without it sounding like I’m a 7th grader writing my first fanfiction glances to my abandoned wips from that time. Okay, Vee, I am a glutton for punishment and angst and I choose to pursue cheating fics. But specifically where and how they build the relationship up again after finding out. So, I was reading a KageHina cheating fic and how the character’s reacted felt off somehow so at midnight I wrote this snippet to fullfill my craving, you know what they say the best fanfiction is self indulgence. Here is a short excerpt,

He wants to brush this aside and continue their lives. He wants to wake up next to Tobio and still be seen the same way. He doesn't want anything to change. 

Tobio is his favorite book. He has read it time and time again. Highlighting, underlining, cherishing. So Shouyou is able to read the silent begging in his eyes. The right clenched fist. 

"Shouyou," a deafening pause "What is this?"

Please lie to me.

…

It stretches on. The eternity of silence. They sit together holding on to the last hope they have. Shouyou memorizes those beautiful hands, each crease and bump. Hands that helped shape him become who he is and that reached out unwaveringly. 

Tobio sighs a world ending sigh. 

Shouyou was the one who created their world, it's only fitting that Tobio is the one who destroys it.

In summary I like angst, I want to feel something 

Feeling good

AAA, okay uh, This is a BokuAka pop star au. Akaashi sings “feeling good” at a big charity event hosted by Akashi (... yes I am AkaFuri trash and I can and will sneak them in anything and everything I write) while he is singing he walks down a big staircase remembering moments in his relationship with Bokuto, how much they have grown and how much he loves him. I love the concept! But I tried to write smut in the beginning of it and OOF THATS A NO. I actually have the majority of it written but I do want to add more emotions and thoughts (the lazy pool writing) and make it Ao3 friendly because I have all of the lyrics for feeling good in it as “post signs” for what he sings and that’s against their rules. 1 major aspect of this fic is it's all leading up to the point where Akaashi says “I love you” for the first time to Bokuto after finishing the song, on stage, in front of everyone and on every screen broadcasting it.

Punk Noya

I have a love for feral boys, especially feral alternative punk boys (and girls and humans) so this whole idea is that Noya goes to another school for high school, embraces more punk aethsetics, and on the first day of the preliminary tournaments he hears the rumors about a high schooler in a gang, getting up to nasty things, and he decides to confront them. He finds Asahi, rants him out and leaves. The plot then follows canon, at the winter tournament Karasuno faces Dateko, Karasuno loses even more badly because Noya isn’t there. Asahi quits volleyball, BUT Asahi and Noya run into each other at the store and talk leading to friendship which leads to romance. Idk man, I want more punk haikyuu characters, it gives me life. Alt Yamaguchi is my favorite but onwards we go

Strawberry Blonde

!!!! So this is Mitski’s song and to give a vague idea this is a pining Kageyama fic where he tries to pull away from Hinata and that back fires. (I  do have more to say but I’ve been typing this for over an hour and I’m getting really tired fjkdaljl) There is one paragraph that I love, so here it is! Kageyama and Hinata are practicing by themselves outside of school and they are playing pepper (its a volleyball warm up practice routine where you partner up with someone pass, set, and spike the ball to each other sesquentially) Hinata goes to spike the ball and for a moment Kageyama sees it, 

They are at nationals and they made it to finals. The crowds are screaming, but everything except the court is thrown into shadows. They are at match point of the final set. Everything is at peak intensity and at the center is him. Flying in the air. Orange hair waving with the momentum. His loud take off echoing in the gym. Arm poised for the kill. Eyes sparking with ferocity and passion as he aims. And finally, tipping the world over is the loud slap of his hand, sending the ball to the far side of the court-

This was actually going to be finished and posted in time for Haikyuu season 4 coming out and the manga wrapping up.... clearly I failed my goal fjdaklfj

Sunspot

You don’t know this about me but I love royalty aus, and this is BokuAka Prince Akaashi and Knight Bokuto. This was a short snippet of this grand idea I have for them where they run away from Akaashi’s inherited destiny together. It has potential to be really wide and expansive with the differnet teams as different kingdoms (AGAIN ILLUSION OF CHOICE, that fic really influences me doesn’t it fjdskalj) But this was a short glance at Akaashi taking a break from studying and watching Bokuto and the other knights practice duel. The title comes from the fact that Bokuto is a sunspot in Akaashi’s life, and his day is substantially better basking in his golden shining light.

Merman au

I’m so glad you asked about this and its technically the one I’ve written the most for since it's actually the one I posted on my haikyuu writing side blog. But brief recap, long term it’s a BokuAka little mermaid au but instead of a sea witch it’s an underwater deity who makes “wishes” (it's a deal) with every royal who is born. And Akaashi has a lot of siblings: Ushijima, Oikawa, Suga, Terushima, and Hinata, and its in that order. So I have information on every sibling’s deal, what they wish for, what they give for it, what happens to them in the future, romantically and otherwise. But, this is the one I haven’t updated in over a year, I am working on it!! I’m currently on Koushi’s (suga’s) wish/deal, its just taking forever. If you want to learn more about it I’ll link it in parts  1  2  3  4

BUT I will work on Suga’s part and then Terushima’s and then to the meat of the idea with Akaashi. 

If you have made it this far, thanks, you are cool as always. My brain and fingers is ded. 

[kaaras-adaar]

Repost, don’t reblog! Tag 6 muns you would like to get to know better when done!

Name: Owl Nickname: K, Kmod Age: Old Faceclaim: I am a fun sized owl. Pronouns: He/him Height: 5′3 Birthday: October  Aesthetics:  Punk, mohawks, leather boots, deep reds, birds, knights, armour, space, owls, metal music

Favourite muse(s) you’ve written: Kaaras is going to have to be my favourite. He’s just... so much to me now, and we’ve grown so much together. He’s made me so happy, I’ve met so many people through him, and had so many wonderful experiences with him as well. He’s just been a blessing. DA helped me out of a huge depression of my life, and I will never forget that. Kaaras is my knight in shining armour at times, even if that sounds lame lol.

I would say my second is Tobi over on my multi. I love getting to write an antagonistic muse, and I originally wrote antagonists when I first began writing, so I have MISSED that. I love Kaaras and how kind and loving he is, but I just REALLY like writing antagonists. I love getting to be dark and gritty with all the details and I get to do that again with Tobi.

What inspired you to take on your current muse (that you are posting this on): Originally, Kaaras’ blog was made for me to post my playthrough with him. I have a friend who didn’t play games but was interested in him, so I made this blog as basically an archive for all of my art, writing and playthrough vids of him. Someone asked if they could write with me, and I said yes. I was hesitant to, since my last RP experience was pretty dull and boring on here from my last fandom, but people really took to Kaaras. And he’s just grown more and more, each day, thanks to everyone <3 6 years later and still going :) 

What are your favourite aspects of your current muse: That he loves his job as Inquisitor. Honestly, I don’t see many people writing Inquisitor’s that take their role as purpose and duty like Kaaras does, and I think that makes him unique. He doesn’t feel burdened by his role, and if he does, he is thankful no one else has to carry it. So, I believe that Kaaras FITS the role of Inquisitor really well, and that’s something that I love about him, but I’m also so damn proud of him because of it as well.

I also love that he comes off as this really kind and loving person, but he takes forever to get to know. It means its hard and relationships with him take a really long time to grow, but I like that. I love growth and slow burn. I love getting to still learn new things about him, even though I’ve been writing him for such a long time. I love seeing how blunt he is at times, and how he embarrasses me with his terrible dad jokes and when he’s overly romantic that it makes my heart sick and I feel like I’m going to die from sugar overload. I love that he’s moody, even though it sends me insane at times because I never know what the problem is. I love that Kaaras is KAARAS. He’s himself, and I have no control over anything he does anymore. I love that he is himself, and that makes him so much realer for me.

What’s your biggest inspiration when it comes to writing: For one, my passion for my muses, and the world around me--I get inspiration from any source I can get. Most of all, though, it’s all of you guys and your amazing muses. You’ve made Kaaras grow, you’ve inspired me to toss him into so many situations and force him to deal with things so he CAN grow. And sometimes that makes him take a step back, but that’s still character growth, even if it’s been a struggle for us mods in the background.

Favourite types of threads: Anything that makes our characters grow. I LOVE slow burning romances. But I also love fluff and angst, and horror and just DOMESTIC things. I love all threads. <3 I love seeing him laugh, cry, break, angry, everything. I also love when things are awkward and uncomfortable. Kaaras can’t get along with everyone, but that doesn’t mean we can’t write together. I like that challenge, and I like getting to see all the different sides of Kaaras, which isn’t always possible depending on other muses.

Biggest struggle in regards to your current muse: His moods. It will always be his moods, and sometimes his moral high ground. Sometimes Kaaras is (to be blunt) a snob... His morals can make it seem like he’s on a high horse, and putting others down. I find that can be a challenge because I don’t want mods to take it personally, Kaaras is just... like that. But his mood swings are also very intense sometimes that he can be happy one second and then internally fuming the next. As a mod, it impacts me more than most might things since I’m a very empathetic person, and I get very in touch with the characters I write, I want to put myself in their shoes so I can write them the best I can, but that at times does mean mood shifts can be a challenge. Also, I just don’t like making mods uncomfortable, but it’s a part of RP. Just know that mod =/= muse :) 

Tagged by: From my old blog  Tagging: @lathsuledin @theharellan @chiefambassador​ @trevelyanmagic​ @many-tales-told​ 

[conversationswithcole]

What’s It Feel Like to Be a Flake?

For as long as I can remember I have been the type of person who gets this idea in their head and thinks this is it. Despite all of my past ideas that I have not seen come into fruition, this is the idea I’ve been waiting for. 

Spoiler alert: it is never the idea. 

The truth is, I’m a flake. I claim to want to do all these different things and then when it’s time to take action to get them done, I bail. The idea will rapidly expand in my mind, filling my body with this surge of adrenaline that makes me feel invincible. I continue to day dream about how it will pan out and watch my future play out like a perfect movie in my mind. I’ll take this energy to start my journey and then as quickly as it began, it all washes away with the tides of the ocean. 

I have countless books I’ve started and never finished, television shows left unwatched after two seasons, art projects that are halfway painted and fitness goals I’ve never reached. I repeat a list of things I want to do, habits I want to form, challenges I want to complete, and careers I want to pursue and almost nothing sticks. 

I’m full of excuses and the sick part is I’m totally aware of it. I try to convince myself that they’re justifiable but in reality my self-awareness of this unfavorable character trait eats me alive. 

I cannot seem to wrap my head around it. If I am so painfully aware of this part of myself that is harmful to my well-being, why does it continue to transpire? It’s a constant loop of emotions from beginning to end. It’s actually very similar to the pattern of emotions I get from a night of intense binge drinking. Unfettered excitement for the night to begin, followed by the feeling of euphoria as the night unfolds, and by the next morning, when it has all come to a close, I am on my near death bed swearing off alcohol for the rest of my life. I build myself up to believe I am the Queen of the whole damn world and nothing can stop me when a new vision pops into my head. I go from that feeling of being invincible to feeling like I will never accomplish anything for the rest of my days. When I don’t see these so called desires to completion, I destroy my self esteem. I belittle my character and decimate my self worth with the harshest words in the book. Things I would never say to another human being for the pure fact that they are so loathsome yet for some reason I find appropriate when looking to describe my own self. 

I saw this quote on Instagram one day that read, “if you truly want something, nothing will stop you from getting it. If it does, that means you didn’t truly want it in the first place.” It haunts me. It makes my head spin. Does this mean I never really wanted it in the first place? How can that be possible when I felt it in my bones? This can’t be true, life doesn’t go as planned, you can’t control your future and situations arise all the time to throw your plans off track. You’re allowed to have a sudden change of heart, life is all about living and learning. I’m not a flake, I’m just exploring all of my options, right? There’s still time, I don’t need to rush, I’ll make it happen eventually.

I can sit here and go back and forth tearing myself apart for not fulfilling a plan I set out to complete, and then look to the left and compile reason after reason to justify my unfinished work as a sorry attempt to help alleviate the feelings of being complete and total trash. I am the angel and the devil on my shoulder.

Now I must ask myself, why do I feel this way about my actions? Is it because society has sculpted this idea of what makes a successful person? Am I not confident enough in myself to succeed? Am I so fearful of the possibility to be crushed by failure that I would rather just not try at all? Or is it because it actually is a horrible character trait and I am in fact trash?

I worry so much about what others think of me when I rattle off my ideas and then they disappear. It literally almost happened with this blog. When I wrote my first few posts I was full of that giddiness you get in the beginning of a new relationship. It’s been a few weeks since that first post and I’ve written nothing new. My boyfriend called me out on it and I felt shame. I quickly responded with anything I could think of to make it seem like I had not given up on this dream, yes dream, of mine because I couldn’t bear the embarrassment of yet another unaccomplished goal. 

Honestly I am having a difficult time writing a conclusion to all of this because I still can’t fully convince myself I’m not just a piece of trash. I would like to blame my skewed method of evaluating myself and my en devours on the toxic and corrupt media that has created these unrealistic standards for success that can be so debilitating people lose their lives over it, buuuuuuut I know that sometimes it really is my own fault. I am a human who makes mistakes but I am also a human who chooses what she does and does not do. Sometimes things arise that derail your plans, or even destroy them, but sometimes the only thing standing in the way of what you want is your own self.  Sometimes I am only human, I can’t be perfect and I need to understand that there are so many different ways to measure success that only I can be the judge of my own triumphs. Things don’t always go as planned and they don’t get finished because The Universe has a different path mapped out for me, but sometimes I really am acting like trash and I give up and there is no other reason that my goals went unreached except for the fact that I got in my own way.

Now I can take all of this information next time I find myself spiraling into this cycle of success versus failure. I can evaluate the situation while being kinder to myself when I fail, but realizing when I caused my own downfall and combat that with the drive to go further than I expect from myself. 

Or I can continue to be the same person I have been and follow the same pattern over and over again until I die. 

I wonder what it’s gonna be.

Editors note: I was stuck between two titles for this post, both a spin off of the name of a 2000′s punk rock song. It was a hard decision between the current title, which is a play on the Taking Back Sunday song “What’s It Feel Like to Be A Ghost” or “I’m a Flake”, a play on The Used track titled, “I’m A Fake”. Emo kids never die.