#Its pretty fucking good ice cream if I do say so myself

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

*

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together. 

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?” 

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended. 

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air. 

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

#tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #txt x you #tomorror x together x you #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt fanfic #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you

[hockeyandhrsepwr]

this has to be my new favourite fact about Boldy. are you kidding me😂

#Boldy if you see this I also love ice cream & make it for my summer job 👀 just saying #Its pretty fucking good ice cream if I do say so myself #come to BC & ill show you #im only kind joking #matt boldy #minnesota wild #ntdp boys #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex newhook #hockey shit #NHL

[harufluff]

things enhypen say

warnings - minor cursing

genre - fluff, enhypen x gn!reader, established relationship au

wc - about 100 words per member.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated.

bolded is reader - txt version

yang jungwon

"y'know, i feel happier when i'm with you."

"i like how your eyes twinkle." "twinkle?" "mhm, they shine like stars."

"what was your favorite part of the day?" "all of it with you."

"YOII" "what?" "nothing..."

"i'm just gonna steal these...thank you..."

"you're like my pillow. nice and soft."

"i think my parents will like you." "really?" "uhmm alrigh- OW"

lee heeseung

"wanna come play with me and the boys?"

"why do you look so emo?" "what? i always dress like this." "yea. emo." "you're the one dating an emo then."

"you're stupid." "yea i know." "well now i feel bad. ok you're really smart, and cute"

"it's time to wake up, the earth says hello"

"you can go to bed if you want? no?? ok then, you can stay here."

"your finger is so cute." "what the heck hee." "what!! its true!!"

park jay

"crap i'm in love." "my ramyeon is good, right?" "with you." "..." "*chuckles*"

"is my brain playing tricks on me, or are you actually this pretty?" "you're so cheesy...i am this pretty"

"gold or silver wedding band. what do you think?"

"let's move in together"

"if i die, what would you do?" "die." "NO"

"thank you for not making fun of me like the boys do."

sim jake

"c'mon smile, or don't whatever you want. youre pretty anyway."

"why are you looking at me?" "it's impossible to look away."

"don't be a stranger, ok?"

"is that my shirt?!" "uhm, yea?" "wait no!- just keep it."

"pinky swear you'll stay?"

"cmere, you!! give me a damn kiss already!!"

park sunghoon

"i think im different with you than with the boys..." "oh really?" "mhm. its like i'm a rock with them, and i'm cotton candy with you."

"feels like the first time."

"thank you." "for what?" "just for being here"

"stop that, you're making me blush. i look weird when my face is red" "you look adorable when your face is red" "shut up"

"cuddle attack!!" "oh fuck"

"why aren't we dating?" "WERE NOT DATING???!!" "no we are i was just wondering why we didn't before, cause i was head over heels for you since day one."

"i love you." "i love me too."

kim sunoo

"there it is!! there's my favorite smile!!"

"wake up sleepyhead. its time for a new day with your lovely boyfriend"

"i feel comfortable with you." "why is that?" "because i can be myself. i don't have to act a certain way or anything. i'm just me."

"i like your pj's" "thanks!! they're yours..." "well not anymore. now they're yours."

"mint chocolate or me." "mint chocolate." "thats what I thought." "WAIT WHAT- YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE OFFENDED AND I COMFORT YOU WITH HUGS AND KISSES"

"let's make a fort, the watch movies together, and then eat ice cream."

nishimura riki

"hugs" "hugs what?" "hugs please"

"your voice is like music to me." "that's so cheesy." "i know, jake hyung told me to say it to you."

"c'mon it'll be fun!!"

"lets go get bungeoppang together." "can we hold hands?" "that was a given."

"were literally a cliche. nerd in love with popular." "I'M NOT A NERD" "i never said you were the nerd." “ohhhhhhh…that’s sweet, my nerd”

"stay for a while. it hasn't been that long." "it's been 5 hours" "not long enough."

©Harufluff 2023 | Do not copy, repost, or claim any of my works.

#k labels #kflixnet #enhypen #enha #enhypen fluff #enhypen names #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen reaction #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader

[heeseongism]

Ok I'm gonna need more enha dick analysis from u

Shits too funny

Heeseung has been WRECKING me lately can we get one of him please?? I feel like he would rock our socks off fr

omg im so glad you've enjoyed them bby!! jakes, jay and hoons can be found here 🤍

first things first, lets start by stating the obvious

heeseung has the most BIGGEST THICKEST FATTEST LONGEST MOST SCRUMPTIOUS DINO DICK IN THE ENTIRE INDUSTRY IF YOU THINK OTHERWISE YOUR OPINION IS INVALID IDC 😙

even when this dude is soft it look like theres a whole ass baseball bat in there so for the sake of my mental sanity im not gonna imagine how big he gets when hes hard

NOW LOOK AT THOSE PICS AND TELL ME THAT HE COULDN'T DRILL A WHOLE ASS FUCKING TRENCH IN YOUR WOMB WITH THAT THING

i internally debate with myself on whether hes hes got one of those pornhub dom daddy dicks or a subby petite camboy cock,,, i blame his ridiculous duality and his VERY OBVIOUS SWITCH BEHAVIOR but some of you guys arent ready for that convo

like hes either VEINY AF with one of those cocks that literally droop bcs of how heavy they are OR hes got one of those zucchini like dicks I SWEAR I MEAN IT IN A GOOD WAY 💀 ik you guys are probably sick of my analogies ever since i said jake has an inverted ice cream cone cock BUT LISTEN TO ME by zucchini i mean that his cock is smooth and thick but also he has a pretty big tip just google what a zucchini is and you'll understand what i mean 🧍‍♀️ LIKE????????

anyways I think his balls would look rlly cute too- pink and petite yk AND THEYRE CIRCULAR DO NOT TELL ME THEYRE SAGGY I SEE SM PPL SAYING HE HAS SAGGY OLD MAN BALLS NO HE DOES NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP 💔

now heeseung is actually pretty tanned and has a gorgeous amount of melanin but those stupid white washing filters hide it from us ‼ and so i feel like hes the same as jay and has a pretty tanned cock BUT heeseung seems like his tip goes more on the pink side than the red side

in conclusion: heeseung has a big ass fucking dick and its a mfing crime that hes not throwing me on his bed, whipping out his cock, and re-arranging my intestines to the point where i can't even remember what my own name is and the only thing i can think or do is moan his name ALL BEFORE dragging me down the stairs, bending me over the kitchen table and fucking me again from behind whilst putting me in a chokehold with his bulging biceps and pulling me head back by my hair and spitting in my mouth.

im filing a lawsuit.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts

[creativekha0s]

Rhea Ripley x Liv Morgan oneshot! You know one of these times I’ll stop myself from cutting it short before the good stuff happens. But you have to keep the readers wanting more 😅 Anywayyyys, enjoy!

————————————————————————

She was stood up. Again. This was the third time in the last two months and exactly why she hated these modern dating apps. No one knew what the hell they wanted these days or how to make their mind up.

In the corner table of the bar, Liv Morgan sat with two glasses of beer. Well, the one she ordered for herself was empty. The one for her supposed date she downed more than half of its contents while she waited patiently, and then impatiently. She checked her phone one last time at the messages she had sent that were left unanswered before she ended up blocking said person. But in her sudden frustration, that wasn’t enough. Three times in two months? Liv deleted the app from her phone and down the second glass of beer before heading over to the bar counter and took an empty seat at the very end.

“Can I order a Manhattan please?” Liv asked the tall tattooed bombshell of a bartender that she didn’t remember seeing on her way in here earlier, but she was also really excited for this date tonight that she put a lot of positive vibes towards. “You know what? Fuck it, make it two.”

“Coming right up, love.” Liv wasn’t expecting the accent, she stared for a moment with a smile then leaned her elbows on the counter with intrigue. “Rough night I take it? I’ve only started my shift half an hour ago, but every time I glanced toward your table you were by yourself still.”

Liv nodded her head and let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, you could say that. Sort of one of those ‘disappointed but not surprised’ kind of deals.” A frown flashed across her lips. “They didn’t show up again.”

“You poor thing. Well love, my name is Rhea and my job tonight is to make sure you walk out of here in higher spirits.” Rhea put together one of her finest Manhattan drinks she could make and set it on a bar napkin in front of Liv. “Starting right now. Oh, hang on. This one’s on me.” Two shot glasses were set up on the bar counter between Rhea and Liv so Rhea could poor them out two shots of straight whiskey.

“To new friends?” Liv asked while raising her shot glass.

“To not letting down pretty girls.”

“You can call me Liv.”

“To Liv.” Rhea raised her glass with a slight smirk and tapped their glasses together before knocking it back at the same time as Liv. She noticed how the blonde wasn’t affected by the stinging sensation in the back of her throat and raised her smirk even more.

Throughout the night, Liv sipped at her Manhattan while she got to know Rhea the bartender, or Rhea Ripley as she soon found out. It was a slower night than steady being only a Tuesday night so Rhea didn’t have much to do other than tend to the occasional patron that walked up. Some tried to get her attention more than others but it was almost to no point, as her attention was completely fixated on Liv Morgan the entire night. They talked about various topics from where they were from, what they did for a living, a few embarrassing stories from their childhood to present, etc.

It didn’t take that long for either of them to memorize each other’s smiles and what they sounded like when they laughed.

Liv was more pleased at the fact that she stuck around here in the first place rather than calling it an early night with some ice cream and late night television. And she was glad that she did. The only depressing part, after sharing another shot with Rhea and ordering another Manhattan, was how quickly the night passed by talking with her.

“Get them in everyone, last call.” Rhea called out.

When Liv closed out her tab for the night, she waited patiently at her stool for Rhea to close up for the rest of the night, the two chatting casually as the bartender wiped down the counter, refilled ice and replace empty bottles. Once everything was in order for the night, the two walked out together as the last two people for the night.

“You sure you’re okay with getting yourself home now??” Rhea locked the front door to the bar and grabbed out her car keys while noticing Liv didn’t do the same. Then she looked at the parking lot and then back to the blonde.

“It’s a long story.” Liv giggled out. “I’m just going through it right now. Got stood up tonight, my car broke down a few days ago, everything’s a mess. But I’m fine with-“

“Oh get in, would ya?” Rhea chuckled and the two got inside of Rhea’s car, taking Liv around their quiet town at the end of the night with light music on the radio playing, she took directions from Liv to find the way to her apartment. When she parked, that was when the tension slightly built up when the radio was the only sound they heard other than complete awkward silence.

“Well Rhea, you certainly performed well above my expectations. My spirits could not be any higher, thanks to you.”

“What’s that saying again? When you love what you do, you’ll never have to work a day in your life?” The accented Aussie chuckled to herself for throwing a cheesy line at her so suddenly and then cleared her throat. “It was great meeting you tonight, Liv, and-“

“Would you be okay with walking me to my front door?” Liv suddenly asked. “I mean, I’m not staggering or anything. But hey, wouldn’t wanna hit my head or anything?”

Rhea nodded her head and turned her car off while hurrying to grab the passenger door on the other side for Liv to exit from. The two walked up slowly to the front door to Liv’s apartment and their slight height difference showed better now that there wasn’t a bar counter between them as the two gazed at each other.

“It was beyond amazing meeting you tonight as well, Rhea. And if I’m being honest?” Liv took out her keys and turned towards her door to unlock it. “Like brutally honest, actually. I haven’t connected with someone like this in, like, forever. And I really would like to do it again, so maybe-“

When Liv turned back around, Rhea had closed the space that was between them, leaning her head down to capture the blonde’s lips between hers. It wasn’t too sudden to take Liv off guard but just at the right time for her liking. Their kiss broke slowly to turn into another kiss with Liv’a hands finding Rhea’s waist and Rhea’s hand cupping Liv’s face.

After a few several moments of locking lips and testing how well their tongues danced together, they broke off and the two chuckled at one another.

“Can I be brutally honest too?” Rhea asked and Liv nodded her head. “I thought about kissing you probably….twenty minutes after we met.” The taller girl bit her lip nervously unsure of where to go from here. “Maybe I should spend the night with you. You know, to make sure you don’t hit your head on anything besides your pillow…”

“Yeah…and in the morning?” Liv asked with an innocent look in her eyes, biting her own lip cautiously as well. “I might suffer a hangover and could smack my head on the corner of my drawer. Or slip in the shower.”

“You shouldn’t even be walking right now if we’re being honest.” Rhea raised her eyebrow and Liv caught the hint instantly. The blonde’s arms wrapped around the taller girl’s neck and Rhea hunched down to pick Liv up and wrapped her legs around her waist tightly. “Much safer this way.”

“So strong, my hero.” Liv giggled with their faces close together, alcohol infused breath coming out of their mouths, with something so much more sparking between them that they both felt. Reaching back, Liv opened her door and crashed her lips back to Rhea’s as she led them inside the apartment, quickly locking the door back up, and carrying her and Liv quickly but carefully to her bed, quick gasps escaping both of their mouths after every time as they craved each other more once behind closed doors.

#liv 4 brutality #writing #liv morgan x rhea ripley #liv x rhea #rhea ripley x liv morgan #rhea x liv #liv morgan #rhea ripley #women of wwe #WWE

[cielomist]

This is very much not april fools related i genuinely want to hear your thoughts /srs but i am begging you can i Pls have a full ass rant abt all your vexen thoughts im backreading through propaganda and youre making me go OUGH - @fuckable-kh-men-battle

HOUGH

i want to preface this by saying i am not super articulate, i am very much a person that just rotates characters in my head at high speeds and doesn't form super coherent thoughts, but by god i know i have a lot of vexen thoughts its just gonna take some time to put them into like, understandable words

under a cut bc im sure its gonna get long. also im sorry that this is so incredibly disorganized.

OK SO

i have loved vexen. ever since i was a kid. i never even played com i just saw him in the kh2 journal and was like "THAT ONE"

(i was also deep in the like… 2009-era deviantart kh fandom, but… 😬)

but getting into the deeper stuff, vexen has this fun little dichotomy of somehow being incredibly cringefail but also EXTREMELY accomplished. he brags about how smart he is, he giggles to himself about it in the castle in days, and it comes across as this pathetic little man just being full of himself, but he also can like, legitimately back it up? he just MADE another riku. he MADE xion, and xion is absolutely extraordinary because she was not supposed to develop as her own person, but he was just so damn good at making just real ass PEOPLE that xion became her own person with her own thoughts and feelings and dreams

one of my favourite scenes is this one. first of all i live for all interactions between vexen/even and zexion/ienzo because GOD. i'm fucking obsessed with dad!even as a concept and i love thinking of the dynamics between ienzo and all his dads and i need to stop myself here or i'm gonna go off on a whole other tangent about ienzo specifically and how fucked his entire life was--

anyway that scene is one of my favs because i just love vexen running through the castle, yelling for his son, because his boss is actively avoiding him. i just assume this is how it always is with him.

also it's been pointed out that vexen, when talking with zexion, will often bend so he's eye level with him and i love that. i adore that.

also speaking of vexen/even and zexion/ienzo, THIS

god sorry i just read ienzo's character file and he mentioned even would scold atw for buying ienzo so much ice cream and i love that mental image. atw is literally king of radiant garden and even's bitching him out for spoiling his 8-year-old

and god VEXEN'S CHARACTER FILE... "I had lost sight of why I wanted to be clever in the first place. I wanted to be clever because I wanted to be helpful to someone." HHHHHHHH even became a scientist in the first place because he waanted to HELP PEOPLE and he got in this spiral of "i need to be smart to help people" and he worked HARD to become smarter and eventually dropped the "to help people" presumably because of xehanort and then when he was recompleted the first time he REMEMBERED WHY he wanted to do all the things he wanted to do in the first place, and in order to help people he gave up his heart, his humanity, what the original organization had been WORKING TOWARDS THE WHOLE TIME and i just. ough.

also in birth by sleep even talks to ven for like, two minutes maximum and from that is able to just deduce that ven's heart is not only completely devoid of darkness, but also that any darkness he DID have was forcibly removed. i don't know where to fit this tidbit in but i think about it a lot.

i mentioned in one of my propaganda asks a post that theorized about vexen's shield, and while i still can't find that post i did remember a fic i read based of of it

i somehow don't have coherent thoughts on his redemption arc in kh3. i get distracted by how pretty he looks when he says he wants to atone i think. but his little monologue when he's trying to convince demyx to help him out... ough. i am personally of the opinion that even was the apprentice with an actual like, medical phd. i think all of the apprentices specialized in different things, and i don't really have a solidified idea for anyone else (though dilan is shown to like flowers in his character file, though i think that gardening is a hobby for him rather than his professional field) but that's my Even's Professional Career headcanon. he absolutely has the entire ICD manual memorized. and rememorizes it every time it updates.

i also think post-kh3 when he was re-humaned he just straight up euthanized himself to be recompleted. he didn't want to wait to regrow a heart and it beat the hell out of immolation, axel

anyway i really wish people wouldn't reduce vexen/even to just being a creepy weirdo; he has SO MUCH to him, but ultimately i think people overlook him because he's not an anime prettyboy and i and the other vexenfuckers are stronger and smarter and sexier than everyone else

for now that's all i've got. if i think of more things i will rb with more vexen thoughts. thank u for your patience as i go insane writing this. <3

(fun fact! when i was in middle school (maybe high school?) i set his japanese laugh as my alarm and to this day i remember it bleeding into one of my dreams via a man in a parking lot laughing at me until i woke up and realized it was my alarm going off for school)

#keetext #vexensweep

[airyairyaucontraire]

Ever get your period a day or two before a trip and wish you could just shove the vacuum cleaner up there and get it all out in one go and not have to deal with that nonsense away from home and your own washing machine and so forth?

Look, I have to say I am not unappreciative for my good fortune in assorted ways but 2023 needs to pull its fucking socks up. First we spent the first week of the new year with COVID-19 cutting a swath through the household. My dad tested positive on New Year’s Day, his actual birthday. Long-time tumblies will be aware that my dad is a man of multifarious shortcomings but I really don’t think he altogether deserved that. So we’ve spent the week in semi-isolation with the weird feature that as the only adult who didn’t seem to get it, it’s like I’ve been quarantined in my room. (Tested negative daily the entire time, a rare feat for my generally very basic immune system.) There is nowhere to sit except the bed so I’ve basically been bedridden, while ACTUALLY PERFECTLY HEALTHY but endeavouring to avoid my closest relatives’ plague, and I’ve managed to fuck up the traitor muscle on the left side of my shoulder/neck/back axis due to inactivity/odd positions. The best thing that’s happened the entire fucking week is Little Nephew and I went out with masks on to buy Red Niece a new raincoat (Green Niece fits and loves his old raincoat but there’s only one of it) and had ice-cream/a milkshake before we went home, that was the fucking highlight. (Green Niece’s raincoat has a pattern of sharks. Red Niece’s raincoat has a pattern of butterflies and that is exactly what they are like as people.)

(It’s so interesting yet also sad to consider how different Little Nephew’s stillborn twin Harrison would have been from him, had he lived. I sometimes imagine two copies of Little Nephew scampering around here, but Harrison being as different from him as Red is from Green. I wish I could have known him and seen his individual ways. However, I also think “Christ Almighty, two sets of them would break us,” so it’s a bit of a thing all in all and I don’t share that thought with him or my sister obviously.)

My Red Niece comes to see me every day to demand an extremely specific My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic picture be printed off to be stuck to cardboard and cut out for her to play with rather than my sister having to source and purchase MULTIPLE discontinued toys from an earlier generation, and quite frankly even the current generation is not easy to find in New Zealand stores! We have been carefully preparing her psychologically for the fact that there is no printer at the beach house we’re going to for five days next week and she will have to make do with the ponies she’s got. I probably need to put in more time on this but it makes me a bit sad that other than describing the pictures she wants, she doesn’t really discuss FiM with me and as you know, I’ve got thoughts. And a purple wig I’ve worn to cosplay Human Rarity. I wonder where that is, or if I got rid of it in a fit of “The world has changed and this is never going to be my life again”? Because it was a cute wig and we’d make a swell Rarity and Sweetie Bell.

I’m sorry, you know I love Rarity (sobbing) so much

Also, am experimenting on myself and discovered that, per the neurologist’s suggestion, alcohol does reduce my leg tremor problem! Of course it also renders me unfit to drive and possibly to work, but that’s interesting to know, isn’t it!

And the weather’s been verily shit, so rainy, and forecast for rain every bloody day but one in the location we’re going to. There’s always hope for it to be nicer than forecast, I’ve certainly experienced that at times, but still, 2023, get your fucking act together! This is not good enough! You are going to be the Year of the Rabbit soon! Is this good enough for Sailor Moon? No! It is not!

And Little Nephew is having some manner of pre-pubescent hormonal surge that is apparently pretty common in eight-year-old lads and is on an emotional roller coaster which at times renders him dia-bleeding-bolical, my God, the fucking DRAMA

And I’ve just started my period and we’re going away the day after tomorrow

And I would just very much like 2023 to get its fucking shit together because it’s not easy for anyone but WE ARE BLOODY WELL TRYING

#life with airy #oh and kevin bloody mccarthy got elected speaker finally #what’s it like to know you are absolutely bottom of the dogshit barrel but you finally dragged your lousy carcass over the line kev

[miss-ari]

A Non-Comprehensive List of "Foods That Don't Really Exist In Australia Compared to America" In My Experience Thus Far

(Some of these you can find at specialty US food/import stores if you're lucky though!)

Saltine crackers

Graham crackers

Yellow/orange mac and cheese. It is white-ish here, comes in a smaller quantity but costs more, and does not taste the same. I tried making it like I would back home and my partner said "This slaps!" but I thought it was kinda dreadful :x

Twizzlers. Okay a lot of American candies are going to be missing but this is the one that hurts me most. Like, oh no they don't have Mike & Ikes- who the fuck cares.

Funky ice cream flavours in tubs. Australia does ice cream treats really well, you are pretty much guaranteed delicious results if it is individually wrapped. But anything outside of basic vanilla (which tastes VERY different from any American vanilla ice cream I've ever had in my life), chocolate, and neapolitan in a tub is gonna be goddamn scarce. I have managed to track down mint chocolate chip and cookies & cream but they were gross. Anything more complex- think moose tracks, chocolate cherry chip, brownie, rocky road, cookie dough, etc- you are shit out of luck my friend because if they do exist here they come in specialty brand pints exclusively and they are at least $12 a pop, kys

Jif peanut butter

Breakfast or "country" sausages. I actually had no idea that was exclusively an American thing until I moved here. No one knows what I'm talking about and I just gesture helplessly when they ask for details because I don't know what's in those either! I've never had to think about it before! But I better find out 'cause it's time to start making them myself. Send help.

(Good) Mexican food, just as a whole -_-;

Root beer. For some reason they have Ginger Beer but not Ginger Ale and I swear there is a difference but it probably doesn't matter

Ranch dressing?? I'm a good midwestern girl what is this fresh hell

Cheez-its, cheetos, cheez whiz, goldfish crackers- most salty cheese snacks. Your average grocery chain like Woolies or Coles isn't gonna have these and it's a little weird.

Fruit snacks. Presumably because they don't have enough fruit for Australia to legally call them that. I have found some at Costco but that's about it. Side note, the Kirkland chocolate chips bag says "Great for baking and snacking" so they've manually put a plain white sticker with black text over it that says "Great for baking and cooking" :')

Egg rolls. Actually most Chinese American food which. Okay that makes sense now that I think about it but orange chicken my beloved... crab rangoon... egg rolls... They do have "spring rolls" but they are kinda shit! Korean food is everywhere though and it is goddamn delicious. Oh and you can get mochi ice cream 10 for $10 at Coles. There's limited flavours obviously but they have strawberry and mango and that is all that matters tbqh (black sesame is a 0/10, truly awful)

Fritos/corn chips. Tortilla chips exist but are more expensive than you'd expect, and the "Hispanic" section of the grocery store is like. A shelf. Bitches don't even have crema smh

Velveeta

Cool whip

Not a food but Tums or even really generic antacid tablets- I cannot find them anywhere

If we're including not-foods all of a sudden: cardstock.

Candy corn

Lemonade. Australians will insist they have lemonade but it is fucking carbonated!! I'm like no no it's not supposed to be fizzy, it's not like a Sprite. "So it's just lemon and sugar water...?" Yes!!! God!!

Specifically this type of noodle:

Almond bark

Maraschino cherries

Trail mix

And your reactions will vary wildly between "Eh. That's fair." and "Oh dear god, please tell me the US import store takes requests."

#useless text post #might add more as i find them

[peachycolaa]

welcome to hell.

—————————————————————————

hello fellow weirdos

if you know me from my ososan acc, @cyb3rj4rv1s , yes yes i’m very very into eddsworld (thanks to a friend who grabbed me by my fucking legs-)

(also my main acc is @lonelykingjarvis , i don’t really post there, its just garbage reblogs of things i like)

i recently just started liking it again and this is just a lil experiment to see if i can…keep up….with fandoms i like

ahahahahha

anyway if you DO NOT know me,

i go by jarvis online buuutttt my actual name (chosen name, actually, i’m tryna get used to it) is maxx!

i’m 21 years old as of writing this and i guess this is iiiitttt

i go by any pronouns really. call me whatever you want baby, my gender is fluid so, whatevers is fine.

i mainly do self insert stuff because i’m trash. so if you don’t like it, then you can go on about your day, have an ice cream, drink water, just DON’T BE AN ASSHOLE.

—————————————————————————

likes:

• eating

• sleeping

• reading mangaaaa

• ghosts, conspiracies, aliens, cryptids, horror, etc.

• musiiiccc

• YT

• verrryyyy big sweaters and hoodies

• pasta

• dungeons and dragons

• marvel movies (my favorites are spiderman and doctor strange)

• animalsssss (my favorites are rats, raccoons, and frogs)

• corny jokes, memes, whatever makes me laugh lol

dislikes:

• tomatoes

• olives

• people who try to talk to me when i have earphones in

• …..maybe just irl interaction in general.

• being tired

• the dark

—————————————————————————

uhhhh i guess a couple of words to describe me (courtesy of my bestie @squidzza , thanks cunt <3) isssss

- “super duper nice”

- “dork”

- “patient”

- “realistic”

- “a little bit unhinged”

“and really really sexy and always right and never wrong! omg i love you sooooo much maxx-“ (kidding that’s not what they said)

but i guess that’s how you would describe me? i think that’s true. idk.

as for if i were to describe myself:

- nice, i think. i like to think so.

- open minded

- chill (unless i’m talkin’ ‘bout my faves then i ammmmm gONE)

- very gay (idk why i feel the need to put this but-)

uhhhhhh. i think thats it.

—————————————————————————

i have commissions open on my ososan account and i will be making one for here (ya dude lives in hawaii and it sucks here lol) so don’t hesitate to dm me for more info!

speaking of commissions and stuff,

i DRAW more than i WRITE so writing requests will stay CLOSED for now

now, thats not to say i won’t like…turn down anyone if they forget that they are closed (i will probably fulfill your request and remind everyone that i have them closed)

as for any art requests n shit, OPEN, very very much open

annnddd to those who request anything whether open or closed, I AM VERY SLOW AT FULFILLING RQS PLLEAASSEE BE PATIENT WITH ME i am one person and i have a habit of procrastinating, that and i have a job which means adulting and shit. AIGHT? k. cool.

—————————————————————————

alright people, i may be like…open minded about things BUT i have rules and boundaries:

WILL DRAW/WRITE

• suggestive/somewhat nsfw (i’m not very good at anatomy yet nor am i good at describing it so)

• fanart

• ocxcanon, self insert ships, ship art

• fluff

WILL NOT DRAW/WRITE (under any circumstances)

• anything hateful

• proship

• anything having to do with the irl people of the EW team (fanart is fine but i mean like…THAT kind of stuff, people seem to forget to separate the characters from the irl!)

• anything with minors (is that the same as proship..? idk)

• fetish art

• gore (blood is okay to an extent)

• hardcore nsfw

—————————————————————————

thaaattsss pretty much it!

welcome to my blog <3

- jarvis/maxx

#jarvis’ introduction #eddsworld #eddsworld self insert

[raayllum]

Also, as a general rule, I try not to get too personal, but I was thinking of sharing this yesterday and then with the news today:

I’ve had a kinda weird week. Both very stressful and not, exciting but time consuming around recent life developments, etc. Yesterday I got stuck on the bus in traffic, it was hot and crowded as hell, and what should’ve been a 6 minute bus ride turned into close to 50 minutes. I was late to work.

To make a long story short: I let go of my stress as much as I could, both from fear of being late and from stuff prior in the week, because all of it was equally out of my control and I just had to ride it out. I had good music to guide the way too.

But I also felt for the people around me. We were all hot, uncomfortable, and pretty frustrated with just how slow going the traffic was. There was a mother and her adult son, who seemed to be autistic since he stimmed a bit and wore headphones, and while my autism manifests differently, I can only imagine the hell that bus would’ve been if your sensory stuff was higher than mine. A lot of people were standing because the bus was crowded, too. 

But the reason I’m sharing this story is because it was a worthwhile to myself in mitigating and reducing misery. The bus ride helped re-contextualize the stress I was holding and develop new appreciation for the blessings, ultimately, that had put me in that period of stress (aka when you’re doing something good & exciting but it’s a Big life change all the same). It gave me an opportunity to mitigate other people’s unhappiness.

I complimented a person on their tattoo because it was nicer to look at than the scenery. The made the mother and son start talking a bit more as the mother had a tattoo herself. I asked about his shirt because it seemed like a special interest, although he didn’t go for it. A few other passengers laughed in response or joined in. We were able to acknowledge each other’s misery but also lessen it a little, too — extend sympathy to the bus driver for the mess they had to drive though.

People in seats still got up and shuffled around a bit to make sure an old lady could sit down when she came on. 

I ended up getting off the bus halfway hoping it’d be quicker if I walked, only to see the bus reach my stop about a minute ahead of me with myself significantly out of breath and later for work than I’d ever been (I work as a tutor at the moment). 

At work, my kids were still there and happy to see me. One of my coworkers had given them something to do and then offered / got me a bottle of water from the front. My boss was 100% understanding and sympathetic and my kids were incredibly sweet, saying at the end of the session (which we were able to go late on, too, to make up for the time we’d lost!) they wished I could teach them English and stuff at school because I’m engaging and make things interesting. It was so sweet I almost teared up at my table.

The bus on the way home was over half an hour late and almost full. Luckily, all of us at the bus stop were able to get on. It was much cooler than the first time around and a lot faster, even my patience was more frayed. I got home and had to have some conversations I didn’t particularly want to, but was calm and friendly with my loved ones. I said fuck it to dinner and ate ice cream (and then had actual dinner hours later). 

Which is to say: your own emotional fortitude matters, and you can help restore it both by acknowledging the weight on your shoulders but also how to let it down. And most of all, if you feel helpless, or resigned, if you look at a situation (or situations) as opportunities to help other people — even or especially in small ways — and you do it, if you look for the little acts of kindness other people give, you will walk out feeling better about yourself and whatever situation you’re in.

The world often doesn’t put its best foot forward, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t

#dragons rambles #personal #humans have a very long history of looking for bright spots in the darkness #why do you think we love the stars so

[sober-in-a-nutshell]

Divets

March 26th, 2017

I jolt awake in the bathtub, covered in glass. Warm water is still falling from the shower spicket, covering my discolored body. Small scrapes and bruises decorate my 21-year-old legs. No blood-thank God, but the bathroom itself is dismembered. I blink a couple times as consciousness reclaims my brain. I slept in the running shower? The skin covering my fingertips and toes is transformed into what I imagine a drowning victim’s look like within the first five hours postmortem. I rub the pad of my index and thumb together, disgusted inside this half alive body. The rest of my organs are feigning for hydration-pulling it from my exhausted brain; which feels four sizes smaller than it was yesterday. I move my head from side to side and feel it rolling around like my dad’s old bowling ball inside its leather bag. Dusty, sad, and forgotten somewhere inside the barn behind my ma’s house in the rural Great Lakes. Just like me a few months before my big move to the West Coast. Sad, angry, and forgotten, hanging out in the barn before work, scraping black resin off the side of my bowl like a goddamn crackhead. Work, make money, save it, move to southern California…get to be with him. 

I lay there on the tub floor for fifteen minutes more, trying to piece together last night’s events before things start to get too fuzzy. It starts like any normal night. It was my husband’s friend’s birthday. He’s Irish, so I knew while getting ready for the night that getting piss-drunk is on the agenda. And I froth. I get around his friends and I am the hot, funny, quirky girl from the Midwest that can outdrink men double my size. I love this attention. When my husband’s friends look at me like he is so lucky, I feel immense approval. I’m the pick-me girl. But it is so fucking fake and self-absorbed that after the night is over, I want to piss myself and destroy our apartment piece by piece to sabotage it all. 

I’m so depressed lately that when I get pissed off there is nothing like the sweet relief that falls over me when I commit acts of self-harm. I hit myself, cut myself, and put myself in scenarios where serious trauma could fall upon the sacred shell that God gave me to protect, honor, and love. But finding a fuck to give about the fragility of my life seems harder than anything these days. I cry when the smallest icky feeling comes over me. I genuinely do not have the emotional capacity to deal with jealousy, insecurity, and fear, and the pills that I am getting from my doctor don’t seem to be helping me feel happy at all. Sometimes when I’m sad I’ll pop six just for the hell of it. The label reads ‘It’s best to avoid the consumption of alcohol while taking this medication’. What it should say is, ‘drinking with this medication can cause you to rip your house apart and bust through your glass shower door blind with rage.’ Thank God for the safety glass. It’s the kind that just pops into a million sparkling pebbles. I’m pretty sure it’s the same glass they use in car windows now, in case of an accident. What they don’t know is that last night I was the overturned convertible on the side of the highway. At least she didn’t cut herself. I’ll lie to my sweet landlord, Sherry in the morning and tell her that I slipped in the shower and pulled the door down with me. That should keep my drunken episode from getting us evicted.

Our beachfront condo is perfect. Within walking distance to the pier and other good foodie spots. Thai, pizza, a couple of cafes, ice cream, and a surf hut.  It’s fully furnished, so nothing is our own. Afterall, I could barely afford to move myself and what I could fit in my car. It’s a little outdated, but Sherry is an older woman. She was a doctor and her husband still practices. They got money, honey. And I am just a waitress. Sherry loved me as soon as she met me, she fixed and helped me with anything we needed at the condominium, and we shared some intimate talks while we fixed the garbage disposal once.

My mom always said I was the daughter she never had. A small fable she made up to make herself, and I suppose me, feel better that her daughter is liable to jump out of a moving vehicle any time she drinks. It must be so frightening for her to know that 36 hours away I am dying inside. I don’t care. I anxiously anticipate her phone call and her lecture, like I’m sixteen again and got caught drinking in the sticks with an older man. When scenes like last night happen and Colin is scared, he calls her for refuge. 

I replay the night over and over again. Shot, cocktail, beer, cocktail, shot, shot, cocktail, shot, shot. I was sloppy last night, but everyone else seemed to be on the same wave. My friend Christine and I laugh and make fun of the hoity-toity women that our  friend is now involved with. I spilled a drink, and we laughed more. Before long ten o’clock turns into two and the fluorescent lights flick on, and the music stops-any drunkard knows what that means. We walk outside and we wait for an Uber XL to take the seven of us back to our beach town by the border of Mexico half-an-hour away. 

Our Uber is a massive van, like it’s time to head to church. We pile in one after the other. Colin and I are together in the middle row and we’re about 10 minutes out now. Everybody in the van must have passed out because after leaving the bar where you had to talk two inches from each other’s faces to hear, the van is now engulfed in silence. I can’t sleep yet. I’m looking out the window and thinking about my nightly routine when I get home, hitting my bong, eating Cheez-Its, not brushing my teeth and passing out. 

A common misconception that we feel as drunks is that we are more desirable the farther down the bottle we fall. This pride befalls me every time I drink and sex with my husband, Colin, is the most leg-shaking, intimate fuck. It has to be a part of this nightcap. I think if everyone is passed out now, I should be able to sneak in a make-out session before we make it home to let him know what’s on my mind. I put my hand on his thigh, lean over and French him all in one swift movement. He instantaneously puts his hands on my biceps, picks me up, and puts me back in my seat, all while saying “Get. The fuck. Off me.” I blink open my eyes and stare into the face of Christine’s boyfriend Kurt. I frantically look around for my husband. He is in the back row of the van and is completely passed out. The car and the night fall silent. Silent with shame, silent with stupidity, silent with the lack of basic motor skills. I send Colin a text from two feet away, “Some weird shit just happened. I need to talk to you.”

We get to Christine and Kurt’s house first. I get out of the van with them because I think I am home. I run to Christine and looked at her crying, “Christine I am so sorry, it was an honest to God accident, I would never do that, I thought Chris was next to me. I am so sorry.” She looks at me sweetly, grabs my shoulders, pulls me in to peck my forehead and says, “Babygirl, I know you would never do that, and I know it was an accident.” Kurt has long since beelined for the house. 

Colin and I get home and we head upstairs. He says, “What did you want to talk about?”

I gulp, “I accidently kissed Kurt in the car on the way home. I thought you were sitting next to me.”

He says, “Wait, you cheated on me?”

“NO. No no no no no. It was an honest mistake and accident. I leaned over, the van was pitch dark, and I thought you got in behind me. I did not cheat. You were right behind me and even if you were not, I would never cheat on you, I love you.” Gobbledegook at this point of the night.  

“What the fuck, Mckenna.”

“I’m sorry.” I’m sobbing. Even more disgusting than my false sex-appeal forty minutes prior, my makeup is running, my nose is dripping, my eyes are swollen red now, because I finally have this human that remains devoted to me, who’s as angry as I am, but loves me for it and I am about to lose it, because the accident sounds vile, I clearly cannot outdrink the men I choose to party with, and I am an emotionally unstable, Trazodone-prescribed wreck. 

Colin goes to bed, obviously humiliated by his sloppy wife. I spark up a small bud of my California dream indica, and whoop, my bong falls out of my hands and shatters on the marble floor. I don’t remember cleaning up the glass, but when I walk to the kitchen the next morning the mess is gone. 

I am now hunched over the tub, using the broom pan to scrape up all the glass from the shower door. I look no better than Gollum, C-shaped posture, wreaking of alcohol even after a four-hour shower, my guts feel like they are rotting from the inside, and my mouth is completely deserted of any saliva. Ha ha. My body is literally trying to suck itself dry. I have small divets in my thighs, it looks like cellulite, but it’s actually where those small sparkly crystals were pressing into my skin between the tub floor and my ass. 

So, my bong is broken. There goes using weed for my hangover. But what happened after that? Colin clearly needed space. I vaguely remember following him around the house like a pound-puppy. Pathetic and shamed. I remember trying to rip the shower door off its track and the sound it made when it hit the floor. Boom. It was louder than a gunshot in our tiny bathroom. That’s the only reason I remember. Jesus, after the bong broke even my consciousness was like, “Welp, time to go.” I don’t even want to be around myself. 

I charge my phone and I have a picture message from Christine. It’s Kurt on the couch making the kiss face of a thirteen-year-old girl with her first digital camera and throwing up a peace sign. It reads... 

“Kurt wants you to know that these lips are exclusively for Christine.” ha. Ha. I’m glad they know I would never do that on purpose. It’s hard to laugh because I have humiliated Colin with my drunkenness, and I guarantee he does not find humor in what happened last night. 

She texts me again and says, “we're going to the pier for lunch, come down.” 

I ask Colin if he wants to go, he says he’s going to play PS4 for a little bit. He’s probably going to jerk-off and imagine he’s not married to me. I can’t be mad, who could blame him. He says he might come down in a bit. He seems surprisingly O.K. today... 

I walk down there, still clearly dealing with the aftermath of the night before. The sand down here has gold flakes in it, and they sparkle and shine depending on the angle you are looking at them. The midday sun is too hot to handle today. At least it’s not humid like it is back home in Ohio. Home. We still call it home even though home is now the city an entire country away. The thought of returning to Ohio in the state I am in, where everybody knows everything, sounds like suicide. The day is full of people on the beach, kids who haven’t yet gained consciousness of the shitty reality life can be, grannies power walking with gallons full of water. That will never be me if I keep going the way I am. I let the water soak my feet. In and out, in and out, like a dance only mother nature knows how to do well. Each wave washes over me a clarity that I am unwilling to acknowledge. I am 21 and I might have a drinking problem. I do not need alcohol to get through my day, but I surely abuse it to the point that it becomes downright dangerous. I don’t want to be the next John Bottom and choke on my own Belvedere flavored vomit. I do not want to go out like that. How ashamed would God be? This moment on the beach feels like one of those cathartic experiences that you see in the movies. Those always feel more romantic and eye-opening than the disdain I feel for myself now. 

Why does Colin love me? Why do I have a drinking problem? Why am I so fucking hateful. Why does Colin love me. I swallow it all now, like a shot of whiskey. I’ll file that away until I have to dig it out when tax season comes. 

I get to the pier. “There she is!” They offer me a beer, laughing, and I don’t decline it. 

#sober thoughts #sober #creativewriting #sobriety #alcohol #drinking #nonfiction

[alex-byers3]

As It Was(Steve Harringtonxreader)

Part 2

We aren’t in the car for very long before Mom tries to strike up a conversation. 

“So,”

I’m laying back in the passenger seat and look over at her, headphones still on and music playing. Mom notices I’m not really paying attention and motions for me to take off my headphones. I take them off and say,

“So?” 

“How have you been?” 

It was kind of an odd question in my opinion, then again I’ve always been super open with her.

“Uh fine, I guess.”

“You guess?”

I roll my eyes. 

“Yeah mom, I don’t know.”

“How’s work been going?”

“It’s been good. I just love scooping ice cream all day.” I let the sarcasm fly. 

Mom takes a turn rolling her eyes.

“But seriously, I do like working at Scoops. I get to work with my friends.”

“You love work so much that you are going to the mall, to go to work, on your day off, to see your friends? Why don’t you go do some sightseeing or something?”

“I think you forgot how small Hawkins is, Mom. And I go to work on my day off to see my friends because they are the only friends I have that are over the age of 19.”

“I’m just worried honey.”

I give Mom a confused expression.

“Why are you worried about me? I’m fine. It’s summertime. The pool is open, Work has great tips, I get to see Steve and Robin every day and I like it. Hell, I love it.”

Mom doesn’t say anything. I know what question she is dodging. I don’t blame her. There were a lot of things we don’t talk about after El closed the gate. 

“Do you have nightmares?” She finally asks.

We both look ahead on the road. I watch my mom take a few turns down the streets until I answer.

“Not really.” 

That was a lie. I keep looking ahead at the road.

“Alex…”

“Sometimes.”

I know she’s looking at me. I know she knows I’m still lying.

“Honey, you can talk to me.”

“I know. But honestly, I just don’t want to think about it. I dream about it enough.”

“But maybe—maybe we do need to talk about it.”

Mom grabs my hand gently and squeezes it.

“Not right now.”

“Okay.”

Mom lets go of my hand and she turns into the mall parking lot. She pulls up to the front and I get out of the car.

“Alex?”

I shut the door and peer into the car as mom rolls the window down.

“I love you.”

I blow her a kiss with my hand.

“Love you too, Mom. Have a good day at work.”

I watch Mom’s car leave the parking lot and I head inside StarCourt Mall.

As usual, the mall was hustling and bustling with people. Too many people. For someone who hates being around people, you’d think I’d pick a job that didn’t involve a busy mall and having to deal with people’s bitchy attitudes. Honestly, if I didn’t work with Robin and Steve, probably wouldn’t last long. 

I made it to the Food Court and see the ‘Scoops Ahoy’ sign in its blue LED light glory. I walk inside and see two girls at the register.

“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck-twenty-five.”

I see Steve’s head pop up from behind the ice cream case, handing the pretty curly-haired brunette the cone. 

“Anything else?” Steve asks.

She shakes her head and hands him cash. I smirk to myself. It sounds awful, but I was just waiting for Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington to fuck it up.

“Ooh, Purdue. Fancy.” He comments. The girl was wearing a college sweatshirt with ‘PURDUE’ printed on the front. 

“Yeah, I’m excited.” The girl replies and chuckles. 

I cross my arms, now invested in this interaction, and it's hilarious because Steve hasn’t noticed I’m here.

“Yeah, you know, I considered it,” He starts saying, handing the girl back her change.

Oh no, Steve doesn’t.

“Purdue, but then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real-life experience, you know, before I hit college, see what it feels like.”

The girl and her friend exchange weird looks. But Steve continues his rant.

“Kinda like, uh, I don’t know, see what it’s like to earn a working man’s wage, you know? Uh…I think that’s, like, really important.”

“Yeah, totally.” The girl says. She definitely says it in a mocking tone, but oblivious Steve doesn’t know social queues. Her friend snickers.

“Yeah, anyway, this was, like, so fun. We should kind of like, you know, I don’t know, maybe hang out this weekend or I don’t know. Maybe next weekend or—“

I run my hand over my face. There it is. It was embarrassing to witness.

“Yeah, I’m busy.” The girl replies.

“OH, that’s cool. I’m working here next weekend, so…you know the following weekend’s better for me.”

He’s trying to recover from the rejection but he’s sinking.

“No. I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Oof, a tough blow to Harrington’s ego.

“Okay. Bye thanks.” Her friend says. Both girls move past me. I look up at Steve, and I can’t help but grin.

“It’s my first day here!” He calls out, but the girls are long gone.

“Wow, that was really sad,” I say.

Steve makes eye contact with me and groans.

“Of course, you were right there. Why?”

I fake a frown as I walk up to the counter.

“Ouch,” I put my hand over my heart, acting hurt.

“I didn’t mean that,” He starts, now completely flustered.

“I’m teasing, come on Steve.” I smile at him.

His face relaxes a bit but he’s interrupted by none other than,

“And another one bites the dust.” Robin appears with her whiteboard. Steve lets his head hang in annoyance before turning around to face Robin. She was giving us a clear view of the infamous board. It said, “You Rule & You Suck” in both columns. 

“Looks like you are oh-for-six, Popeye.” I snicker. I reach across the counter and rub Steve’s shoulders, as he stood there slouching. Robin laughs and adds the sixth tally mark in the ‘You Suck’ column. I came around the counter and stood next to Steve. 

“Yeah, yeah, I can count.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest, pouting like a 3-year-old.

“You know that means you suck.” Robin states.

“Yep, I can read, too.” Steve huffs.

“Since when?” I look up at him, earning a small shove into my shoulder from him.

“Hey girlie!” Robin says to me.

“Hi, Robin.” I laugh.

“You know what? It’s this stupid hat. I am telling you, it is totally blowing my best feature.” Steve rants. 

“You have a best feature? Lex, you didn’t tell me?” Robin pretends to be shocked. 

“I swear I didn’t know Robin or I would’ve told you.” I walk up to the pony wall window.  “You guys are awful.” Steve rubs his hands over his face.

“Yeah, company policy is a real drag,” Robin says.

I turn to face Steve, leaning up again the counter. 

“You know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered, uh you know telling the truth?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him. 

Steve exchanges looks between his two favorite people(even though he claimed daily he hated us).

“Oh, so you mean, that I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson, I make three bucks an hour and I have no future? That truth?” 

“Hey, some girls dig the whole daddy issues and lost puppy vibes,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. 

Steve chucks a pen at me, hitting me in the boob. I laugh, making no effort to block it.

“Hey, twelve o’clock!” Robin points behind Steve. Steve and I both look and sure enough a gaggle of girls come into the shop.

“Oh, shit, oh, shit, Okay…uh…I’m going in. Okay?” Steve panics.

“Steve, just be yourself and scoop the ice cream,” I say.

“You know what? You know what? Screw company policy!” He throws me his sailor’s cap and I catch it. 

“Oh, my God, you’re a whole new man,” Robin says.

“Right? Ooh.” Steve chuckles and shimmies his shoulders before turning to the customers.

Robin and I have giggling so hard at this point. I know this isn’t going to go well.

“Ahoy, ladies! Didn’t see you there!” He shouts to the girls. They look mortified. It was fantastic. 

“Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Oh my god,” Robin exclaims. 

I can’t believe he just did that.

“Can I get you guys a little taste of the Cherries Jubilee? No? Anybody? Banana Boat? Four people, Four spoons? Share it in the booth? Anybody? It’s hot out there.” Steve just kept going.

“Robin?” I turn to her behind me.

“Yeah?” She manages to get out in between the chuckles.

“Can I see that marker real quick?” I held out my hand.

She smiles and hands it to me. I add a seventh tally to the board.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington smut #steveharringtonxreader #stranger things season 4 #joyce byers #jim hopper #joyce x hopper #will byers #mikewheeler #will x mike #fanfic #ao3fic #slow burn #friends to lovers #smut fic

[fakeosirian]

tagged by @gender444 hiiiiiiii thank u :D

currently reading: not in the middle of anything right this moment (im usually not i read books all at once pretty much lol) but the last thing i read was either medea or twelfth night can't remember and the next thing is going to be one of the Multiple books i bought 3 months ago on a trip that i still havent gotten around to (so either litcrit about medieval lit, litcrit on race in crime fiction, or uh. gideon the ninth. LMAO) i tend to prefer nonfiction esp since most of it is nonfiction. about fiction. so i use the works referenced as a reading list LOL

favorite color: TOO HARD TO CHOOSE i like color schemes more than individual colors tbh. big fan of dark red, forest green, and turquoise (with a dark brown as the neutral to balance it out mmm) so ill just say that so i dont spend 4 hours looking at swatches LOL

last song i listened to: idea/intent - the beths

last movie i watched: dungeons and dragons over a month ago (for someone who went to film school i Do Not watch movies very often. LMAO) despite watching it in an EXTREMELY TOO LOUD THEATER after taking an edible after a 2 month break (aka i was like O_O the entire fucking time), i had a Very good time. it's a peak 7/10 film. like ok it's not a 10/10 but it doesn't need to be and frankly shouldn't be. the platonic ideal of "they did absolutely everything they needed to do with this and not a sliver more" if that makes sense. also it's made for the chris pine girlies of 2013 (aka me) so im contractually obligated to enjoy it

sweet vs spicy vs savory: yeah kinda silly question agree lmfao savory i guess?? i like sweets but my tolerance for them is soooooo low/i get nauseous easily (the only exception to that is ice cream) + i like spicy stuff but i have to be in the mood for it too. i'll literally never be unhappy with something savory so.

currently working on: arguably like 4 different things because i'm still learning how best to manage my time without punishing myself lmfao the last thing i Literally Worked On was a scene for a far future chapter of foyf because i had an idea for how i wanted it to play out/i've had a lot of luck figuring out plot details by putting like. keyframes down basically. and filling in the middle bits. otherwise its that + Basically A Self-Guided Graduate Thesis (my house of anubis video essay series that's already unspeakably long and i haven't even taken notes on s3 yet.) + career-related writing portfolio bc im getting some ✨rejections✨ + director's cut of my capstone film from a couple years ago because she is. rough :) i'm very good at deciding to do something for Enjoyment and then stressing myself out for NO reason :)

tagging: @4th-and-roebling @lovelyamneris @soupforsoup @redvawx @windowsdestruction and anybody else that wants to do it :DD

#im trying to keep track of which mutuals ive tagged before but i keep forgetting orz #so like. fr if you want to and i havent tagged u before I have now. In my heart #alex lore

[ink-herrscher]

present

— veliona & herrscher of sentience

— herrscher of sentience x fu hua (mentioned)

genre : fluff

warnings : swearing, adult topics

wordcount : 1,706

summary : how many kisses can senti get from hua in one night? the answer is yes.

The café is a quiet haven amidst the ocean of noise outside.

It was a relief, stumbling into the shop. Outside was chaotic; too many people were packed into the mall like sardines in a can, and the heat of their skin grew more uncomfortable with every wave of crowd drawn into the bright flashes of sale in every shop. It was almost impossible to breathe out there, but here, it’s calm, as if stepping into another realm entirely removed from the outside.

Senti sighs. Her milk tea is almost drained. Idly, she bites her straw and blows air into the liquid. It disturbs the shards of ice hanging onto the surface of the tea and drowns them in bubbles.

“You’re useless.”

Veliona shoots her a deadpan look and rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry for not being good enough, Master.”

She’s three-parts snark and zero-part helpful. Senti groans, stirring the remains of sugar and boba around in her drink. A gentle orchestra washes over the café, stringing another Christmas song like a lullaby. It’s supposed to be calming, maybe, but Senti is so close to bashing her head into the table and hoping it knocks her out of this place and straight back to her bed at home.

“Are you sure you got nothing useful from her?” she asks again, leaning back in her chair. “Like, nothing at all? Even just something she might want? Anything.”

There is a slice of ice cream cake at the corner of their table. It’s Veliona’s order, left untouched while she finishes her cup of coffee. Her self-control is admirable, really, but to Senti, it’s just an easier steal compared to having to fight for it while she’s already eating it. Veliona shoots her a look as she leans over and takes a spoonful, but doesn’t comment on it.

“Listen,” she says. “We literally have never talked before. I tried to make small talk before pushing the conversation there, but she wasn’t taking the hint. What was I supposed to do? Ask her directly what she wants for Christmas because her girlfriend was too much of a wuss to ask her herself?”

“I’m not being a wuss.” The cake is a bit too sweet. Still, she takes another spoonful, and this time, Veliona slaps her hand away. Senti scowls, but gives it up. For now. “I’m the one giving her the gift. I can’t ask her what she wants.”

“No, I think you’re just being a wuss – and stop fucking stealing my cake and order your own!”

Senti rolls her eyes. “Killjoy.”

“And you’re a goddamned beggar,” she grouches back. “How are you so shameless when stealing my food when you can’t even ask your own girlfriend what she wants for Christmas?”

“For the last time, I can’t because it’d ruin the surprise!”

“Yeah, because it isn’t obvious if I ask her myself.” Veliona scoffs. “It’s not as if I’m your only friend in the base, right? And I have absolutely no reason to ask her about her preferences aside from, I don’t know. You ordering me around?”

“She won’t figure it out.”

Veliona takes a sip of her coffee. “Hua’s not dumb, Senti.”

Senti puffs her cheeks.  Outside, the light warms the glass, although it is more like an afterthought of heat compared to the winter breeze. A lone snowflake drifts by and falls too close to the pane, and it dissolves to condensation before it can imprint its shape on the window panel. Senti presses her cheek to her palm and sighs.

“Whatever. Can’t you just call her right now and ask?”

“No.” Veliona glares at her. “Just because you have absolutely no shame doesn’t mean I don’t either.”

She frowns. “Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Veliona shrugs. She empties her drink and pushes it to the side. “Dunno. Is that pretty head of yours only for display?”

Maybe she should order her own cake. She’s craving one now, too. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Speak for yourself, lover girl,” Veliona scoffs. “I can’t believe I’m wasting a perfectly good afternoon with you, of all people.”

She’s already done her Christmas shopping. It was easy, really. She came in with a clear idea of what she wanted, and was done before Senti could even pick which store she wanted to go to first. She peers at the shopping bags reclined around the foot of Veliona’s seat, and groans in despair, burying her face in her arms.

Dammit. Why is it so hard to buy gifts for the old timer? It shouldn’t be this hard, but she’s absolutely stumped.

“There, there,” she comforts, but it’s the most unsympathetic attempt ever. “I’m sure she’ll like one of those knitted sweaters grandmas like these days.”

“She’s not a grandma, Vel,” Senti mutters.

“Could have fooled me.”

Senti hesitates, tilting her head in thought. “Okay, maybe she is a grandma,” she admits. “But I’m not gonna buy a gift that enables her stupid old ways more! Hell, she won’t even let me hold her hand in public. She’s like, stuck in the 70’s! Next thing you know, she’s gonna tell me only married couples can fuck, I swear to God.”

Veliona wrinkles her nose. “Too much information.”

“I don’t care about what you think.”

The slice of cake she held off on is already gone. In the blink of an eye, she’s on her feet, gathering her bags on her arms. “Oh, all right, then. Looks like I’m not needed here anymore. Bye~”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Senti grabs the hem of her dress in panic. “I’m sorry, your Royal Highness. Your humble servant didn’t mean to insult your all-knowing wisdom and –”

Veliona smacks the top of her head, but sits back down, anyway, smiling. Her bags clink against each other when she lays them carefully back down again. “For fuck’s sake, shut up with that stupid nickname already.”

“Ouch.” She grumbles, clutching her head. “Fuck you. Stop pretending you don’t like it.”

“Fuck you, too, you dork,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Just give her a book or buy a cake or something. Just make up your damned mind.”

“She already has a whole library at home,” Senti sighs. “And she doesn’t like sweets that much. And anyway, those are all too impersonal. I can’t give her something like that.”

Veliona flags down a server to order again. Following her initiative, Senti picks up her menu and browses for a dessert, too. “Well, what does she like? Or does she have something that she needs right now?”

Hm. Even when she racks her head, nothing comes up. Hua has always been so . . . unmaterialistic. But Senti has to find something she’d want, somehow. It’s the first Christmas together – her first gift to her ever – and it has to be special.

She groans and rubs her hand over her face. “I don’t know.”

“This is going nowhere. I can’t believe you don’t know her at all.”

A server finally approaches. Veliona points to something on her menu and looks at Senti.

“I’ll just have another milk tea,” she sighs. God, what she won’t do for a can of beer. She’s overthinking about this damned gift too much. Her head hurts. “And I know her, okay? It’s just that . . . the old timer has never really liked anything.” She pauses. “No, what’s worse is that she’ll definitely like anything I throw at her as long as it’s from me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Senti shoots her an exasperated look. “Idiot, if she’ll like everything I give to her because it’s from me, then it’s harder to find something that’ll make her . . . dunno. Speechless. I want my gift to be special and unforgettable, you know?”

She curls her lip. “Don’t look at me. I don’t even know her that well." She hums, tapping her cheek thoughtfully. "Then, what about just making something for her rather than buying something?”

Senti perks up. That sounds good. “Make her something? Like what?”

The server returns with a flourish, setting down two more drinks on the table. Senti pouts at her friend at the lack of dessert.

“I don’t know. Write her a love letter or something.”

“A love letter,” she repeats blankly, and closes her eyes. They’ve already wasted so much time just talking, and she still doesn’t have an idea on what to give as gift. This is becoming really tiring. “I’m not an awkward sixth grader, Vel. I’m not gonna fucking write her a love letter.”

Another sigh. Senti takes a sip of her tea, and purses her lips. She’s already too full from the last one. She doesn’t know why she ordered another one impulsively. What a waste.

“At this point, I am going to wrap you up and stuff you in a box and send it to Hua. You’re cool, but I’m literally at my limit.”

Senti falls silent. The ice on her drink dances with the straw. “You think she’ll like it if I . . . gift myself to her?”

She almost feels embarrassed. There’s no reason to, but a heavy flush rises up her cheeks. That would be a good gift, won't it? Maybe she can get a ring for her. A promise ring. Like a symbol that she is wholly dedicated to her. That she pretty much owns Senti: body, heart, and soul. A vow from her to Hua, that she won't ever be alone again because Senti will stick by her side for all eternity.

That's right. What would be a better gift than Senti herself? Veliona is a fucking genius.

But Veliona takes one look at her, and barks a laugh. She slaps a couple of bucks onto the table and grabs Senti’s hand and drags her out with one swift move.

“Hey!” she protests. “Where are we going?”

“Buying your gift before I lose it and leave your ass hanging, duh.” She throws a look behind her shoulder and examines Senti. “We’ll get a lingerie, some silk rope, and maybe a couple other toys for you two to play with. Thank me later.”

It takes a couple of seconds to sink in. When it does, Senti's already red face turns hotter. “Hey, wait! Stop! I didn’t mean it like that!”

#herrscher of sentience #veliona #fu hua #sentihua

[bad-thinking]

Perfect days (Japan, 2023) - breaking through the pseudo peace

So, I heard about that movie that is good, that it reveals something important that is not that apparent at the first glance. That did sound like worth watching, especially the fact that it did not contain much of the action, but rather series of scenes and slow dialogues not pushing the audience to focus from one shiny - effect loaded image to another. That sounded encouraging. Additionally, my friend, whose opinion I value, told me how amazed he was. Therefore, I could not say: 'no' to that movie.

The purpose of this post is not to summarize the movie for you, if you want to read about it, go to imdb. I write it from selfish reasons purely, I simply want to express my reflections upon having it watched. i find myself drawning in questions and observations after watching a movie or reading a book and I hope that writing it down will clear my head a bit. With that being said, let's get to the nitty gritty.

I am disappointed with the movie. For the most part of it I was just bored. I am not surprised with anything, I haven't gotten any new insight. That is true that at first I assumed the movie to be just naively positive, but movie slowly revealing its true message didn't surprise me either. I must admit, I haven't guessed at first what director aimed to convey. Main character goes through the life in a very simple way. He cleans toilets, lives in poor conditions, he barely speaks, he is very diligent and cares about his work, even though his job is perceived as disrespectful. It does not seem to bother him. He cleans the toilets every day very precisely, he even overdoes it, coming up with his own tools and ways to make it better. How to read it? "Oh, well, it does not truly matters what you do, what matters is your attitude". Is this really true? The main character carries that slight smile on his face, and you can interpret it as a sense of inner peace. "He is absolutely at peace with his ordinary life, not having any desires, not needing anything from life, transcending ego, seeing and valueing what is more important than ego based materialistic goods or statuses". Isn't that what all the spiritual gurus feed us with? " Abandon what is material, status, it is not your real nature. Learn to be in the 'here and now', learn to see through your desires, look at the freaking sky, watch clouds and resist participation in the rats race, endless competition and comparision, striving towards oblivion (whatever that could mean to you)." Pretty much.

Can you be happy cleaning toilets as the cherry on your cake representing life? As a cherry being a representation of your life achievement? Can you? And what role does the routine play for you? Ah, you read about how habits make you a better person? How you can improve yourself? How routine is healthy? How to fucking read this... Really. I believe routine is needed, I certainly need it, because otherwise I will think unnecesarily too long about what I want to do or what i don't want to do and why. It is a freaking nightmare. Therefore, I decide to skip the process of analysis / overthinking and just go with the routine, then at least I know I will progress in some direction. I don't trust my wants and likes in the moment because I think humans are lazy beings by nature, and our minds are bastards trying to soothe us with brain ice cream, making us stay comfortable and stupid. Why the hell have I mentioned routines? Well, I tell you why. Main character fills his days with routines. In the movie it is shown how every day he makes the "bed", has a meal, a can of coffee, washes himself, cleans the toilet being careful about the details, using a mirror checking if he did not miss anything, any dirt. He is smiling. He is patient. He does not talk. Is this peace? Why is he similing when I feel something disturbing? When I feel sad watching him? Is this my projection? Am I just placing in him my unmet ambitions? Why is he cleaning the toilet after other people smiling? No, no, no. He crushes. At some point he crushes. I will not describe how that happens. But the bubble of artifical peace breaks. The structure built of small daily activities falls apart. He knows he failed at life, he knows he colors his loneliness and void with dilligence and service. He cries. You can see tears in his earlier smiling eyes. And that moment is beautiful. Why? Why is it beautiful if he cries? It is beautiful because finally he is honest with himself. He lets himself see the truth. He knows he is a prisoner of this day and the days to follow. He knows he cannot escape it. And in this prison he is all alone. I wonder how his life looked like before. He is that schizoidal? We don't even hear his thoughts. He seems empty. I think he covered up his sadness and separation. Is he sad because of the job he has, not being fullfilled, or rather loneliness? It depends on what I would project onto him. And, honestly, I rather feel sad because of him not even knowing his potential, not even giving himself a chance to explore it. I am not that sad when I think about his loneliness. Or separation. At the end, people wanted to be for him, to some extent, they seemed to care. He however was very encapsulated in his own world, world that also seemed however deprived of anything colorful. What was there really? I think deep down disappointment and despair. But again, this is my projection.

So the question is: are we able to accept reality, even if not fullfilling our need for exploring own potential and expansion? Are we able to just sit on the bench, look at the sky, see clouds passing and be happy that the sun shines at my face? That I have food to eat and roof above me at night? That I am fairly healthy? I know I cannot. I know I need to feel I walk the right direction in my life. That I am aligned with my potential. That I listen to my call. Then, I don't have to eat well, I can barely sleep, I can be under stress. It is worth all of this, I can be separated too, I am already anyway, I can be in an unstable environment, not knowing what will happen. All that is bearable because I know, I am aligned with my inner self, and I hear and let myself be guided my my inner call. The voice screaming to me. We need the ability to follow it. A dose of independence and great deal of bravery. Be sentivive, be genuine and be brave. Be smart too. Don't be naive. Don't pretend you are okay to yourself, to others you can. To yourself, you cannot. At least, not for the most of the time. You need escapism from cruelty or difficulty? Sure, laugh it off, smile, pretend you are fine for a while, but don't let yourself stay in it, treat it as a break. We all need a break from harsh reality and that is fine. As far as I recall, a psychoanalyst, Winnicot, was advocating for this too. I quite like him. Who is able to stay in this reality all the time, you have to give yourself a break and lie to yourself a bit, saying how all right everything is. But don't get lost in it.

Having written this, I must say, it did help me to clear my head, it does feel lighter definitelly. To my non existent audience reading this post - I am thinking now that probably what I stated at the begining of this post about not being surprised and disappointment was a bit of a exageration. It was not overall that terribly bad. Writing down questions and reflections helps to appreciate more the creation.

#perfect days #movie review #film #favorite movies #inner peace #routine #sadness #loneliness #separation

[bouquet-of-clumsy-words]

All the odd numbers please 🙏

1: Virgin? - Absolutely not 3: Do you smoke? - I do not, I vape occasionally but I'm not really a fan of smoking 5: Do you take drugs? - Nah, not for me 7: Have tattoos? - I do, currently 5 9: Got any piercings? - Noo, i always wanted a lip ring though 11: Best friend?- Would have to be my friend Maddi, she's a good egg. I don't reaaaally have any close male friends, not really a lad type guy 13: Biggest turn ons - I mean, Just look at my blog nsfw one and voila but honestly, GIRLS. 15: Favorite movie - TOUGH ONE to answer just.. ONE MOVIE but probably, Interstellar, I bawl like a child 17: Someone you miss - AAAY lets not get me too much in the feels right 19: A fact about your personality - I'm fucking hilarious 21: What I love most about myself - I'm kind and caring? sounds cheesy but I love my pals and people in my life, world is so full of shit and we gotta rely on eachother right? 23: My relationship with my sibling(s) - Pretty good, call that trauma bonding I guess. My older sister yeah we've been through it. 25: My idea of a perfect date - Open and just.. honest. doesn't have to be anything particular but just raw (not in that sense u pervs) 27: A description of the girl/boy I like - They're a blue haired midget 29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend - for another friend, like its a horrible experience but when someone trusts you with information it's like.. you can't betray them but also moral compass is going brrr 31: What your last text message says - Sorry, Order 98992316 was cancelled. 33: What words make me feel the best about myself - Ooof, i'm not sure. I just guess things will be okay? gotta have some delusion amiright? 35: What I find attractive in men - Idk really, like good jaws maybe 37: One of my insecurities - WOW everything. Idk I used to struggle with my weight and convinced myself I was horrible so I kinda stopped eating sadly. 39: My favorite ice cream flavor - Honestly I'm down forwhatever but the vegan B&J Cookie Dough is chef kisses. 41: Where I want to be right now - Probably in bed cuddled up with my cats 43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately - Honestly, Kiera Knightley could stab me and I'll say thank you.

#About me #thank you for asking kind anon! #tried not to get too deep in the feels but I am DEEP