#it makes me reflect on my younger self too and all the ideas and expectations i had

[strongheartneteyam]

I wet you like water but she stained you like blood.

Pairing: widowed!dilf!jake sully x younger!female!human!reader

CW: slight sexual language, can be triggering to some, heartbreak, age gap kink, hurt/no comfort, age gap relationship problems, angst, reader reminiscing (pls tell me if I missed anything) 

So, yeah... I never know when I'm gonna come back with another writing. My hiatus n working periods are all a bit unpredictable lol sorry. Anyways... I literally spent the whole night awake n I was struck by a sudden lightning of creativity early in the morning and I edited this chapter n wrote a bit more, but I still haven't slept at all, so, I apologize if some parts of this make no sense at all. I'll fix it when I can. Hope you guys like it <3 ily guys a whole lot :)) obs: this chapter is a shorter one.

Slightly proofread.

Chapter 4 𓆩♡𓆪

They say all's well that ends well

But I'm in a new hell every time you double-cross my mind

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would've been fine

And that made me want to die

The idea you had of me, who was she?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

All Too Well - 10 minutes Version (Taylor Swift)

𓆩♡𓆪

It had been 1 year since the last time you saw Jacob Sully. Or Jakey, like you used to call him. The wound never healed. It still throbbed and bled every time you remembered the words he told you that dreadful day. "I think we should stop seeing each other." It felt like you would never get over him. How can one get over such an overpowering, raw feeling? He marked you forever, like a bruise that seemed to never disappear from your skin.

The flashback came like thunder in a storm, haunting your thoughts with a loud pain that echoed through your mind. What you told Jake that night.

“The truth is I love you. The truth is I can't take this anymore. I'm giving you my everything but you don't seem to be doing the same. You're still guarded.” There was a tense period of silence “Jake… I love you. But I don't think you feel the same.”

Maybe you shouldn't have said anything. Maybe if you had kept your mouth shut, he would still be with you.

Ugh!! Stop that, now, (y/n)! Some self love, please? You're better than this. You deserve better.

You tried to convince yourself of that, at least.

The pain was unbearable at times and almost easy to conceal at other times. It depended on how distracted with work or your studies you were. These days you ran to any distraction that could ease the perpetual angst that squeezed your heart inside its hands all the fucking time. It had been like that ever since Jake left you. What were you expecting anyway? You should have known you were never truly loved by Jake. The love of his life was Neytiri and it would always be, alive and walking through Pandora or dead and with Eywa.

It felt beyond weird to have to hear people talking about Jake and have to pretend he was a stranger to you, someone you barely knew, when he had actually left a mark so strong on you, a memory ingrained in your brain, a feeling, a pain buried inside your heart that made you want to scream and hit your head against a wall. That's how much it hurt.

You would never have his body against yours again, warming you up when it was cold, after you spent the whole day in that damn lab, studying Pandoran plants but all you could really concentrate on was how much you missed his reassuring, protective presence. He made you feel safe for the first time in your life. But now he is gone. Just like every single good thing you ever had in your life. But you know what? Maybe your mother was right, maybe love wasn't really something that could ever last forever.

Did Jake ever really make a real effort to be with you? Thinking back, it was extremely easy for him to just come to you and fuck you anytime he felt sad and lonely. What if you had just been a naive, dumb girl all this time? Were you mourning a love that never actually 

existed? It was always so hard to talk to him about his feelings for you, he never actually let you in, to be honest. All the time you two spent together, you were never able to know if he ever saw you as a partner or just a fuck buddy. 

Oh, but the high… it was worth all the lows. The butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were almost caught fucking in the back of your work room by Norm. Eventually you guys had to tell him about your situationship because, oh well… he already knew what was going on, really. Norm is not a fool or a child. He could add 2 plus 2.

The adrenaline was worth all the tears. And, fuck… you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

𓆩♡𓆪

Taglist:

@aonungsoneandonly

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@fairyyrosee

@myh3artttt

@explosiongamora

@ufiy

@yeosxxx

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@avatar4eva

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@fujimoribaby

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@yeosxxx

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@bakugouswaif

@slytherdor01

#jake sully x you #dilf jake sully x reader #dilf!jake sully #dilf jake sully #jake sully x fem!reader #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully #na'vi x human #na'vi x human reader #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #jake sully angst #atwow x you #atwow x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow fanfiction #✎ victória writes ▢✧࿐

[falmerbrook]

Re: your post about younger you being disappointed in your art now. I’m a bit older than you, and I used to let thoughts like that bring me to tears.

I didn’t start seriously working on my art until I was 19. Seeing people my age put out what I considered to be masterpieces was soul crushing. I felt like I started too late, with art and everything else in life.

But the thing is, I still did art. It’s been a decade or more now and I still make art. I have a degree in Art History. I can competently make gifts, drawings of my OCs. I can go to galleries and take inspiration from what I see. But I’m still not producing pieces on the level of the teenagers I compared myself to in the beginning. Maybe I never will.

Younger me might be disappointed in my art now, or my life in general. But I think about it very differently. When we’re young, we don’t understand how hard things are. Time is very abstract - the idea of hundreds of hours of practice, life throwing curveballs (illness, work, lack of motivation), the fact that there will always be someone younger and better than you. Kids and teenagers can’t really understand it. Because they haven’t lived enough yet.

Younger you might be disappointed, but younger you is naive and arrogant. They have the toxic and immature mindset of “You should be good at something right away, and if you’re not, you’re a failure!”

Instead of feeling upset, feel compassion towards your younger self - your inner child. They are putting so much pressure on themselves, and on you. They don’t understand how long it takes to learn skills, they can’t accept the unfairness that some people are prodigies whose parents have had them tutored since birth to draw like Da Vinci.

The older you get, the more you’ll be at peace with your practice and you won’t compare yourself to others so harshly. Younger you is stuck at a set point in development - they can’t come to peace with it. Don’t let it upset you, use it as a chance to reflect on how much you’ve matured since then.

When it comes to art, all you can do is embrace the practice. Your art is yours, it should feed your soul. Best of luck ♥️

It means a lot to me that you took the time to leave such a thoughtful ask about that little post I made. And you honestly hit the nail on the head. No matter how bad I feel about it, I'll probably never stop making art (in some form) just because it's like a stabilizing force in my life. I cycle between being happy with where I am at with it (even if it isn't to my expectations) and hating it, but I think that's just a normal part of improving, so it least it means I am, even if nonlinearly.

#this made me tear up tbh thats why i took so long to answer it #mine #ask #related: i saw people talking about pewdie/pie's new video and it made me have the most conflicting inner back and forth between feeling #like a failure and being super inspired #i think ive come out more inspired though since ive been relfecting on this ask for a few days #my brain has just been REALLY scrambled for like two weeks #which is why ive been reblogging/posting less too #my hands kinda throw a wrench in everything but what can you do

[drdemonprince]

Following about my previous question about a relationship with a younger person: wasn't talking so much about sex as certain conversations (and wanting not to dump too much stuff on them/not wanting to treat them as a therapist but I guess it's something I wonder no matter with whom). But now I'd be interested to know those boundaries you have with those to who are your previous students or that you approach as if they were :)

Sorry for the delay in getting to this. Thank you for clarifying!

My boundaries with younger people tend to be that I try not to ever make my problems their problems. I want spending time with me to be a source of recognition, support, intellectual and creative encouragement, and maybe a peek into experiences, ideas, or pieces of media that they haven't had the chance to know before, but are interested in.

That really isn't all that different from how I want to treat all of my friends. But I tend to not divulge to younger friends anything currently pressing that's bothering me, or any crisis I haven't really resolved. I think it's fine to speak to any grief I might have or share hard times I've experienced in the past, but I don't ever want any bad experience I share with them to be "hot" and still active. I want it to be kind of cooled and settled and to have already made some meaning of it. I also don't talk about dating or sex with significantly younger friends too much, unless I know them from the scene.

Adults treated me like a therapist all my childhood, and in my early 20s that pattern continued, and looking back, it was fucking weird and disturbing. I never had supportive mentors of any kind, really, and after my grandmother died when I was 13, I ceased having any wise adults in my life who could introduce me to new places and ideas in a curious, reflective way, and who were at all self-aware.

I want to be what I didn't get, or what I did get some brief glimpses of, before the one relative who could provide that died. And I am just generally really squicked out by people making other people responsible for managing their distress. I want my friends, all of them but especially the younger ones, to feel like spending time with me is a place where they can feel heard and can sit with themselves and their thoughts comfortably and feel like there's someone there for them if they have anything they wish to share. I'm not always that person. but it feels really rewarding when i do get to be.

I also think it's really important to bring this energy genuinely, from a place of loving to express it. It's also really important to me that I don't treat young people with superiority or condescension, and I don't expect them to make me feel like i'm being a good person. that's equally gross.

[theuniversein-you]

YOU AS A NCT DREAM MEMBER

✧ ˚ imagine: renjun finds you binge eating at night

✧ ˚ genre: drabble, idol!au, amab!reader, fluff, angst

✧ ˚ warning: binge eating, eating disorder, self-deprecation, mc is underweight

✧ ˚ disclaimer: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. the characters do not reflect the personality of the actual artists themselves, and should be treated as separate beings.

✧ ˚ author notes: omg so this is just smth that i kinda wanna make a series with, an 8th member of nct dream! altho, this drabble is a bit personal for me(i won’t elaborate further) but you must read the warnings b4 proceeding bc it can be triggering to someone!

✧ ˚ word count: 791 words

Sneaking out of the shared bedroom with Renjun proved to be easy than you expected. You expected him to wake up from how you move a lot in your bed, considering he’s been restless ever since the promotions, but he was dead asleep when you stood up from the bed. You didn’t want to disturb his well-deserved rest so you tip-toed away.

Although staying awake late at night is a bad idea, you couldn’t bring yourself to care when you felt a large craving for food. You recently learned that you were alarmingly underweight and it’s been eating up your mind. It became a nightly occurrence where you sneak in at midnight to eat whatever you can get your hands on.

However, you wouldn’t ever steal your member’s food, of course. That’s why you spent a lot on snacks. If you’re lucky and you’re alone, you’re most likely to order. Jaemin has been complaining that you’re hogging the cabinet space and the fridge with the number of snacks you’ve been buying. 

You scoffed at yourself. You didn’t see the younger ones complaining, and you don’t mind when they help themselves with the things you buy.

You opened the fridge, mouth watering at the sight in front of you. You grabbed at the first thing you could see, which is a milk carton. You slid down to the counter behind you, drinking the milk in one gulp.

Tonight might’ve been the luckiest you’ve ever felt since you’ve just recently restocked the snack supply and added the cartons of milk as a mix. You remembered Renjun’s mouth drop when he comes back seeing three cardboard boxes filled with your favorite snacks, ramen, and drinks(you threw in the tteokbokki as a bonus, too) and you stocking the cabinets.

They would’ve been suspicious by now, but that’s the normal life of someone with the same lifestyle you have. You’ve subjected yourself to intense diets to remain perfect in the public eye, and now you paid the price. You only noticed the signs when you felt yourself getting tired more easily than usual and how you would throw up occasionally after a heavy meal.

It was dark in the dorm, and only the light from the fridge is the only one illuminating the room. You grabbed the Honey Butter chips, picking a large amount to fit in your mouth. You eyed your next victim; the box of thin Oreos on the counter.

“(Y/N)?”

You jumped in surprise, not expecting anyone to come in to see your nightly routine. You turned around to see a flabbergasted Renjun looking at you.

“Oh my god, what is this mess?” he exclaimed, walking to your position. He started to pick up the empty carton of milk lying down on the floor. You didn’t even notice that you’d already finished it in one gulp.

Examining the object, he sighed, “So you’ve been the one finishing all our milk supply, and I thought it was Jeno or Jisung...”

Guiltily, you adjusted your sitting position, leaning your thighs against your chest. You didn’t want anyone of your members to see you in your miserable state, especially not Renjun. You are aware that he will be incredibly worried and fussy.

“R-Renjun, I can explain...”

You didn’t notice Renjun sitting next to your huddled position. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing he’ll be squeezing you for answers. Not that it is a bad thing, since he does deserve to know at some point.

“(Y/N)...” he murmured, “You told me you didn’t want to have dinner earlier because you were full...”

“I was, and I’m not particularly hungry. I just felt like eating,” you explained briefly.

He tilted his head, “Just like the other nights you’ve been sneaking around?”

Your eyes widened, turning to look at him hastily. So he’s known all this time...

“Renjun please...”

“No, (Y/N), I feel as if it’s more than just that...” he said, his voice getting softer, “You don’t have to tell me, I just need to make sure you’re feeling okay...”

If it weren’t for you holding the bag of chips in your fist tightly, you would’ve grabbed Renjun and hugged him tightly. You held back the tears that are building up in your eyes. You don’t want to cry, not now. Not when you look like a mess on the kitchen floor.

“We can keep this our little secret, don’t worry.” he said, his shoulder now touching yours after he moved closer to you, “But you shouldn’t ever feel ashamed about yourself.”

You nodded, slowly eating a chip in your mouth.

“You shouldn’t eat so fast though, you might choke and die.”

“That’s true. You want some?”

“Sure, but you’re the one cleaning this up.”

#nct dream fanfic #nct dream series #nct series #nct dream member #nct member #nct 24th member #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct x male reader #nct dream x male reader #renjun x reader #huang renjun x reader #you as nct member #you as nct dream member #renjun x male reader #injun x reader #huang renjun x male reader #nct dream 8th member

[twistmusings]

Hello! I just found your blog and I read a very interesting characterisation of Cater that made me quite interested in him (I haven't seem much of him in game so far so he never really caught my attention).

So I was wondering what are your ideas about Cater, like general hcs... what is he like (personality wise), etc? Are there any misconceptions about him in your opinion? Cause to me so far he has seemed quite one dimensional and I would like to have more added to him so I'm always open to hear other people's thoughts.

Thank you!

I would love to! Cater is like one of my sleeper faves, so I always love getting a chance to write about what I think about him.

Cater Diamond Character Analysis

CW: Discussions of Mental Illness, particularly depression and self esteem issues, very, very brief mention of internalized transphobia for one bullet point.

Canon text examination

Cater’s Halloween Vignette (Miraheze | Wiki)

Cater is shown to be pretty exhausted by the visitors and trying to manage the amount of people who are around for the Halloween events.

He expresses a distaste at having a phone call with a prior acquaintance, and privately expressed distaste at her being persistent in trying to get ahold of him.

He says he prefers not to form deep friendships.He dislikes the idea of being too closely attached to one person because his father would move frequently when he was younger and he would constantly have to rebuild friendships and relationships only to be uprooted again.

Another key thing is to look at Cater’s self-talk here: depending on which translation you’re reading. In the localized version, he says that Lilia could never understand how helpless he fears, but pretty consistently across translations he minimizes and insults himself OR his own feelings.

Cater’s Labwear Vignette (Twisted Translations Tumblr | Wiki)

Cater mentions that he’s got two older sisters who insist on things being cute, so far that he mentions having the mantra burned into his brain. 

Cater is notably upset when one of his mandrakes comes out seeming rather gloomy and depressed, and vehemently denying it when Vil and Lilia point it out. He even goes out of the way to create additional mandrakes that he feels better reflect him and denies the other two exist.

The mandrake that he picks to post to magicam is of particular note-- he picks the one that is laughing and jovial. “It’s not Cay-cay if it’s not happy enough to lift people’s spirits, right?”

While those are the most notable instances I can point out, they’re not the only ones. In fact, small facets get mentioned in several vignettes: 

In his Ceremonial Robes Vignette (miraheze | wiki) Cater mentions that he finds the entrance ceremony exhausting after having to wrangle the incoming freshmen, and goes off by himself to focus on Magicam rather than joining the others at the entrance party.

In his Dorm Uniform Vignette (Twisted Translations Tumblr | wiki) Cater is shown to be a lot more calculating and cautious than he portrays himself. He is also noticeably self interested. He will use tools, magic, and other people in ways that benefit him, and even Trey acknowledges that.

In both his Birthday Boy (wiki | Miraheze) and Union Birthday Vignettes (wiki | Miraheze)  we get to hear more about Cater’s sisters and mother. The reason he hates sweets is because they had a phase where they made a lot of them and would always expect Cater to be the one to taste test. His sisters would also sort of treat him like a page boy-- often making him go shopping for them or run errands for them. He even says that he wouldn’t mind shopping with someone like Vil so much, just because he would be able to examine and learn things and get something out of it.

So what does all of that mean for Cater?

To start with: Cater is almost always wearing a mask. He doesn’t want people to get a deeper understanding of him and his inner thoughts. This is one part conscious and one part unconscious. He consciously knows that he’s had to constantly rebuild his friendships when he would have to move-- and even now that he’s in a bit more of a stable location at Night Raven College, he still seems to cling to the values of keeping people at an arm's length. Probably because most of his foundational years have taught him that getting too close to someone would end in loneliness because he would have to give them up.

Unconsciously, you also need to look at who Cater’s stable people in his life have been. Cater talks about his father working at a bank and often having to move for work, and him being at home most of the time with his mother and sisters. Do I think his sisters and mother are terrible? No, absolutely not, but what I do see is that they seem to show very little regard to what Cater wants. If he tries to refuse them a favor they are said to keep pushing him until he does it. So in Cater’s mind, there’s definitely a connection that when he does have someone solidly in his life, they’re going to push him to do things that he doesn’t want to do. At best he probably would expect them to ask him to do chores that he doesn’t want to, and at worst he probably would assume they only want him around because he’s beneficial to them.

Additionally, I don’t think Cater has had a lot of time to find himself. This is, in part, why I think he leans so heavily on Magicam and seems to be fascinated with Vil and his sense of style and fashion. He mentions that his sisters were obsessed with cutesy things, and he admits that’s not what he is really into himself. I think a lot of his interest stems from wanting to explore and discover himself-- and that means that he’s probably experimenting a lot with his fashion and outward appearance in his free time.

I think Cater will struggle with being seen as cutesy. Given his mandrake vignette and the fact that he seems to admire Vil, I think Cater likes cutesy and feminine things a lot more than he would be willing to admit. He’s probably going to take a while to come to terms with that and not feel like it’s something his sisters forced on him.

(NGL, I could very easily see Cater being a trans girl/genderfluid and not even realizing for a long time why they feel so out of touch with themself until they started experimenting with gender presentation later in their life.)

I think Cater is an introvert. You might think that’s strange, considering he’s outgoing and he’s always putting on a cheery facade, but being introverted merely means that he has a social battery that gets drained by being around people. In canon, we repeatedly see him say that he’s exhausted after dealing with people, particularly ones he doesn’t know all that well. I also think Cater desperately doesn’t want to be an introvert, and he has a bad tendency to push himself to his social limits rather than taking a step back to take a few minutes for himself. To him, being an introvert probably is damaging to his image that he tries to portray.

I do think Cater has depression, though whether it’s just that or if it’s a symptom of another mental illness I am unwilling to theorize on. I do think his negative self-talk is telling of him having self image issues and the unwillingness to change because it’s “pointless” are very big red flags that our boi needs some help from a professional.

Finally, I think Cater holds himself to an awfully high standard in comparison to the people around him. He thinks he has to be the life of the party or he’s going to disappoint the people around him, where I feel the reality would be more likely that if Cater said he wasn’t feeling it/feeling well, people around him would be more than understanding that he can’t always be at a 10.

#answered;; #cater diamond #sfw

[the-knaves-world]

Soulmate Connections

Epel x reader

Mentions of food but I think that's it

Thanks to @mymainwastoocluttered again for the soulmates idea bc I think this a bit too fun to write.

Epel was fun to write but this has a mix of much everyone at some point. Two previews but I think I made those obvious

This is self indulgent fluff tbh

Hope you enjoy!

Epel didn't understand the fuss about soulmates sometimes, yeah his grandparents were happy with each other. That doesn't mean that others without their marks are miserable or lonely all their lives either.

Epel was distressed when he was younger because everyone around him was pitying him for not having another half. Epel, however, was only upset because those around him were upset. When he got older he stopped caring about it. There would always be that voice in the back of his head telling him things like 'maybe ya did somethin horrid to not deserve one of them soulmates.'

Epel always believed that he would live the rest of his life either alone or with another markless person. That was a well and dandy plan….until it wasn't and his person quite literally ran into him.

~Your pov~

"This is not my day!" Speeding to the courtyard in an attempt to get away from rook and his decision to annoy you, you didn't expect to run into another person. Let alone run into them, literally.

Feeling a shock of your body colliding with another, you freak out mentally because today really wasn't your day, you pull him and yourself up from the ground. You do notice that you have something red on your wrist and think that while you were running away from rook or when you crashed into the guy, you might have gotten hurt.

"Crap, are you OK? I am so sorry for running into you." Looking back you notice rook walking toward you and decide that now isn't the time to chit chat. "Look, I'll make it up to you later somehow, just come find me in the cafeteria later! I gotta go!" And away you were, hoping that the poor guy wasn't intriguing to rook but at the same time hoping he was intriguing enough to get rook off your case.

After safely making it back to Ramshackle with no hide nor hair of rook, you decided to rest for a few minutes. Plopping down onto the couch, you reflect on the meeting in the courtyard this morning. You never asked the guys name! Well…this is awkward, how were you going to find him to apologize if he didn't, or couldn't, show up at the cafeteria this afternoon?

Well, let's hope he shows then. After resting for a good 5 minutes you decide that you should get grim and head over to the cafeteria. He should be getting hungry and it's almost lunch anyway.

Grim had automatically rushed off to Ace and Deuce and left you only with what he wanted for lunch. So, to get your and grims food, you went.

Standing among other students gave you some time to think as you mindlessly gathered your food. 'Who was that guy anyway?' 

Having the feeling of seeing him before, that purple hair really sticks out….wait! It was that Pomefiore first year! What was his name again? Apple…no it was Epel? Wasn't it?

Taking the food back to your table, you sat next to Riddle, gave grim his food and began to eat. Looking around for the people that could blind with their beauty, well except for rook, it wasn't hard to spot the blonde model and the purple haired guy right across from him.

"Imma have to deal with rook again…damn it." Excusing yourself the promise of being right back, you walked over to the table that Epel sat at.

"Excuse me, epel?" The purple haired man looks up and looks a little relieved for some reason. 

"Hello!" Vil doesn't seem so happy though, was he getting scolded or something? Oh well. "I would like to apologize for running into you today! Rook thought it would be fun to chase me around a bit I guess." You groused out, you really didn't wanna run all over campus. 

Shaking your head slightly you smile at the men present. "I sincerely apologize if I hurt you or messed up your uniform." Ya know how this dorm is full of perfectionists. "It's fine, really. I'm just glad I got ta-." Epel stops abruptly and restarts his sentence. "I am just happy that I got to meet you."

That must be to keep Vil off of his back. This is sad to see. So you bring up the thing that you remember freaking out about. "Hey, you didn't get hurt earlier did you? I remember seeing some red when I ran into you, I want to make sure you weren't hurt when we collided." 

Epel looked up at you expectantly, "you have red on you?" Like that was supposed to mean something other than getting hurt or paint on something. "Yeah, my wrist." Pulling up your sleeve, you check your wrist and briefly wonder why you didn't wash it off when you got back to Ramshackle…meh that's a thought for future you.

That's when you notice that it wasn't blood or paint, it looked like a red apple. That is really weird. That wasn't there before. 

"What the…" Epel laughed and pulled up the sleeve of his opposite arm and showcased his apple marking. "What? Never seen a soulmates mark before?" This is weird and so are the people here. 

"What in the ever lovin hell are you talking about? What is a soulmate mark?" You were more than a little confused. Yeah, you read soulmate tropes in books and fanfic back home but this is real life. Those things don't exist, not really.

Epel and everyone with even decent hearing shot you a look of either horror or shock. "What do ya mean 'what's a soulmate mark?' Have ya lost it?"

For once Vil didn't correct Epel and he was grateful for that. 

"That stuff is only seen in books and fairytales. That doesn't actually exist." You think for a minute and concede. "I mean, I did get nabbed by a carriage and brought to a completely different world so it isn't actually that crazy."

You decided that lunch was more important than arguing about this. "Well my lunch is getting cold and I have flight after this so imma need the energy. Bye, sorry again for running into you epel!"

Jogging over to your table, you sit down and are immediately bombarded about your lack of knowledge. "You seriously don't know about soul marks? Where have you been? I know you're not from here but they just don't exist where you're from?" Cater seems flabbergasted at your world.

"We have that trope but usually in books and fanfic. They don't actually exist, irl." You feel someone watching you. Turning to look for the eyes that were set on you, you find four pairs of eyes, though one pair of eyes were not from the same table as the other three. You fi.d the Pomefiore trio staring at you, analyzing you almost, the other pair of eyes was from a junior across the room. His eyes were gentle and he sent a smile your way then he turned back to the other at his table.

'That was weird but at this point I seriously need to rethink my definition of weird.' Your hand rubs over the apple marking on your wrist and a small smile graces your lips. The lectures from the sophomore and the two juniors about soulmates and soulmate marks continued.

Epel looked over and Vil could tell that there was an itch there, one that had to be taken care of. Love can make one glow, after all vil may be a perfectionist, he was not heartless though. “Epel, go.” The look epel gave him was something between joy and confusion. “Soulmates are not to be kept waiting, or pushed to the side for that matter.” Vil had a look to him that Epel had not seen before. Like he knew that from experience. Epel would ask about that later but for right now, his soulmate was waiting!

“Thanks, Vil!” Epel rushed off and over to sit himself with the other first years and the second and third years of heartslabyul. “Do not say anything rook, I do not wish to hear it.” Rook looked over to the table that sat the savannaclaw students, the person that sat next to leona and had his grip firmly around them. They seemed rather content, however, they both looked over at vil with a sadness that anyone could read. “As you wish, dorm leader.” Rook would have to deal with this later.

“I still don’t fully understand how someone from a different world can be soulmates with one here but I’ll give this a shot. Friday night, we go to Mr. S and get some snacks and watch the stars for a bit?” Epel was happy that you were even giving it a chance. 

“That sounds perfect! I can even make you some apple pie! You don’t seem ta get enough good sweets livin in ramshackle.” You pat Epel on the head and smile a bit. “Sounds lovely, I look forward to our date, apple boy!” “Hey!” The laughter of everyone at the table echoed over to the Pomefiore table and even farther over to the special part of the dinning area, gracing the ears of the fae prince who was happy that his friend found someone else to call on.

“Oh don’t pout Malleus, you’ll find your soulmate soon! Sooner than you can blink.” Lilias' laughter echoed through the cafeteria. Soon indeed.

#twisted wonderland #epel x reader #epel fluff #this was an idea attempt #no clue if this will turn out ok tho #My Writing 💌

[actualbird]

Let's goooo another dragon fic update!! Before I start talking about the fic itself though, never apologise for going on hiatus!! Fics take So Much time to write in general and it's just better to write when you're feeling the motivation to write so that both you and whoever reads your fics can be happy with it. What's important is that you enjoyed writing the fic!!

Also cn server spoilers for this chunk because I have to but oh my god the dragon event. My entire life was leading up to this moment and I can feel all my schips slowly flying away and it's not even going to be in global for a long time yet. All of them look so good????? Whoever came up with this event is a genius and I want them to come up with every single au event after this. I trust them with my life. I'm this close to dusting off my Flight Rising account that I haven't touched in years just so I can make these dragons ingame and actually have them. Reality is whatever you want it to be and I want dragons.

ANYWAYS

Actual fic content starts here xufxgucug sorry for going so off topic. I am a Sucker for creatures with fire affinities. Fire is so beautiful and powerful to me and those traits almost always reflect in the characters who wield and connect with it in media. There's a reason phoenixes are my favourite mythical creature. So Ria's powers being fire? 10/10, no idea if this is from canon or not because I haven't actually read the entire Looming Nightmare card, only a summary, but I love the choice regardless.

Luke joining Ria in the exercises is so cute.....he's such a supportive boyfriend, I love him so much!!!

You know, for as much narrative potential a shifter with two warring selves has, I've just always liked the idea that the shifted creature is just as part of the person as the human self is. I had a huge shifter phase when I was younger, still have one if I'm being completely honest, and I've just always liked this take better than both fighting for control. All this to say that passage in the book? I love it and the choice you made to have it that way so much.

So first I choked when I saw the pamphlet was written by Marius, and then I choked a second time when I saw his writing style. This is the funniest spell tutorial I've seen it my life and I would like Marius to make tutorials for everything under the sun going forward. "haha, normie" gets me every time I look at it. I want to strangle this man (affectionate)

Fruit guy is the best character in this fic. A crazy in shut-in living in the forest.......

Luke wouldn't be Luke without his tendency to call birds chubby xfjxjfxjg poor pigeon. I just know that in some au, Peanut has been turned fron a smol adorable myna into like. A falcon or roc or something, and Luke will still call him chubby. Speaking of Peanut, I cannot for the life of me remember but has he made an appearance yet? I should probably reread this fic to see...

Oh damn genius choice to tie in the value of names to magicfolk to bring in the NXX codenames for Luke and Ria.

When the dots connected with the seal I shot up so fast. Artem selkie!!!! How'd you decide on a selkie for him, actually? The rest of the boys+Rosa I can see the link pretty easily and I'm pretty sure I know what Marius is just. Based on what he's associated with in canon. But it's a little hard for me to see the link between Artem and a selkie.

Celestine being an amazing character as always. Poor Artem, getting bullied for his lack of sense in aesthetics. Knightboy is the best nickname and I hope she never stops using it.

I wasn't expecting Luke to come work for Themis too! I wonder if his role will simply consist of being the muscle or if he'll, in some way, start doing something akin to his detective work in canon.

Not the rose dress being torn!!!! I'm so inexplicably sad about that after reading that Ria didn't want to tear holes in it in the beginning :((( I hope it can be fixed.....

CELESTINE'S RESPONSE FHIFGFIYCOH

I would love details of that vampire and fae case actually it sounds hilarious. Not to Artem but it's fine he made it through

Artem and Vyn's antagonistic relationship persisting through canon is just so funny to me. Not the "my condolences"......

Omg the flying......there's so much to love in it, from the Whole Entire scene itself to Ria's happiness to Luke holding onto her to be as close as possible.....god i love them so mUCH

I can't exactly write thought out comments for Ria's story and the last scene because all that's going through my mind is AAAAAAAAA but this was such an excellent chapter!!! I loved seeing Ria so happy being able to interact with the outside world and just. Live again. I loved seeing Celestine and Artem and for Ria and Luke to know now that there Is a safe haven for them, somewhere they don't have to fear Ria getting persecuted for being a dragon hybrid. I'm anticipating the meeting with Marius right now and also the less bloody way to do the sigil cjgcgjcjg Luke definitely won't run out of blood now!!! But yes this fic is probably one of my favourites in the entire fandom. It scratches so many of my favourite things and every chapter is a joy to read through. Whenever the next update comes, I'll definitely read it as quick as I can.

🌌

WAHHHH HI HI MILKYWAY :DDDD you know, whenever i get a kilometric length ask after i update/post a fic i always get giddy because i know itll be you. thank you so much for reading ch3 of "yes, she’s my lover, yes, she’s a half-dragon. any more questions?" :DDD

on the current dragon event: GOD RIGHT. whoever was in charge of this au needs a raise and every employee benefit out there. possibly even new ones. I LOVE DRAGONS....I LOVE CHARACTERS TURNING INTO DRAGONS OR BEING DRAGON HYBRIDS....ive never played flight rising myself but ive seen a bunch of it from some people i follow and those are some PRETTY DRAGONS!! thank you for the dragon enthusiasm, it’s so wonderful, i will be so so so ecstatic once this event hits global….

now, onto the fic comment replies :DDD

on fire: fire is SOOOOOO A FAVORITE OF MINE YESSSS. it is indeed a reference to Looming Nightmare, because the dragon there breathes fire at luke at some point. i think. im actually not sure because it’s been forever since ive watched the card and i dont wanna rewatch it cuz i dislike it jhvlkJBAJSFBA;SFA.

on luke joining the exercises: luke does not Need to be doing yoga with mc but hes joining in cuz he supports her dragon needs!!! i think luke would be so bad at meditation btw. his mind goes a mile a minute, he cant clear his head ever unless focused on a Task Of Some Sort.

on the dragon and the self: and yes YESSSSSS I TOO LOVE THE DRAGON/SHIFTED SELF AS A PART OF THE SELF. like, it’s what i adore so much about creature hybrid aus so much, it’s why ive written Several “character turning into/is a dragon” fics: i see the transformation as like….giving a portion of what already exists within the character a Body, an Avenue. to me, creature hybrid aus are just so good when the creature is a manifestation of a part of the self, instead of a complete other

on marius’ spell: writing that spell after writing the very flowery and formal book passage was so funny to me because i shifted tonal gears like CRAZY. but hey, at least the spell was IMMENSELY useful. just also rather infuriating to read JHVSDLFSDJ

on fruit guy: full disclosure, i envisioned him a little bit like Cabbage Guy from A:TLA, HAHA

on chubby winged creatures: a constant throughout all universes indeed!!! maybe even in the new cn server dragon au, luke sees his dragon and thinks “hm, chubby fella” LKFKJBDSLKFJS. also, peanut has not made an appearance yet!!! which suddenly makes me SO SAD, im so making sure he arrives in the last chapter. luke without peanut….oh it feels so not right, he needs his bird buddy!!

on the nxx codenames: YEEEEEE IM SO GLAD U LIKED THAT, i felt so clever for finding a way to bring it in. and also having the rose description of the dress be useful for mc’s codename

on artem the selkie: i will be completely honest that at first, it was because artem is a good swimmer JHVSKJHFSKVHJFSD. but then the more i thought about it (and also talked about it w my gf) the more i saw i liked the few ways it fit—selkies in their human form are very beautiful (artem is pretty), selkies as creatures that can pass easily as human but are different (artem who is among others in canon yet always feeling as if he cant connect, or has trouble connecting with others casually), the Pelt (artem always wears a suit and i thought the coat jacket was a fun thing to turn the pelt into), and also because i thought of artem as a seal and made a mental AAAAAWWWWWWW so loud that i couldnt not do it. this rationale/connection isnt as strong as vyn being a fae, but it was still fun to do. artem in the water looking at them was like

on celestine and luke joining themis: i dont write her very often so it was fun here!! she sees any man and is like “let’s put that guy to work”. also, this is kinda a spoiler but luke wont be working for them for long!!! seems like this guy doesnt have a life outside of his gf rn, hes gotta get something of his own!!!

on the dress: oh nNOOO JHAKVJFSFA SORRY ABOUT THE DRESS. it’s not completely ruined!! mc and luke can still mend it ;w;

on celestine’s response: she was like “what is the most anticlimactic way i can react to the dragon lady and the anxious dog of a man in my law firm”

on the vampire and the fae: that was actually inspired by a tumblr post i saw in passing and haVENT BEEN ABLE TO FIND AGAIN but yeah, all those overlapping traditions and supernatural laws….artem’s also had to deal with werewolf territorial disputes, “unicorn hybrid needs to stop stalking virgin crush and just talk to them” cases, and mages. mages are just mages, idk i see a mage or a sorcerer and think “oh yall must be fun in court” for some reason. theres a lot of fun stuff to think about when it comes to supernatural law, i wish somebody smarter than me could write a spinoff just for these JVSKJHJVSF

on artem and vyn: everybody in stellis knows vyn!! and everybody in stellis is like “aw man fuck vyn” because theyve all been tricked by him one way or another. vyn’s retort is usually that people should stop being so trusting and dull HSJVDFKHD

on the flying scene: im so glad you liked that :DDD that was one of the bits i was so excited to write because oh the romance of being held by your beloved and brought above the clouds in her arms…….luke u lucky lucky boy

on everything else: i am so so happy that you enjoyed this chapter and that you enjoy this fic in general. im flattered it’s one of ur favs because omg!!! yknow, while i was writing this update, i thought basically everybody forgot about the fic (and for good reason, i did take a loooooong time and idk when chapter 4 will be out) so knowing that you like it and that you even wrote this wonderful comment, it really means so much to me ;w;

thank you so so so much for this ask, milkyway!! im wishing you a wonderful day :’D

#commints #asks #milkyway!anon #//holds this ask gently. uve given me the will to live for the month

[icyxmischief]

Also, it was just brought to my attention, not for the first time, that a growing number of content creators on Tumblr specifically would rather their art, graphics, et al be interacted with without any mediation or active engagement, that even tags added to their posts are seen as unwelcome and even rude, that meta and media analysis are now forms of that rudeness. As an educator, as a PhD in the field of visual media analysis, I am reeling and genuinely afraid for the state of critical thinking with younger and younger groups of media influencers and content creators because unlike Instagram or Twitter or other sites, Tumblr was originally intended for the collaboration and recontextualization of original content. Has this changed? Do we never discuss post content in reblogs? Do we simply "stay in our lane" and add it to our blog and always make new posts to express our thoughts and ounter points, even though the posts we are adding onto are didactic tools that help us illustrate the point we're discussing? Do all content creators feel this way, or is this a matter of personal preference?

PLEASE NOTE: I am NOT saying that my view is correct or that my concerns are valid. I could very well be getting out of touch with the function of this platform. But im actually afraid this is indicative of a bigger problem in social media that the collective trauma of the pandemic has worsened: we don't let anything become contentious or controversial, even when it's civil debate, or even when it bears a lot of intellectual fruit ro be reflective of self and others and the things we create to express ourselves. We are all too tired of literally trying to stay alive in a dystopia to face any more potential negativity in our personal spaces, so we just don't "go there." Right? I feel this fatigue too. I get it completely. But it's still a scary trend. We are devolving as free thinkers.

When I make a post, or post an artwork, I know I may only be speaking for me, but I actively expect it to be reblogged and discussed on multiple analytical levels, by a very diverse array of bloggers with different viewpoints. As a painter, I know and robustly respect the idea that the content creator has a right to thei boundaries and to their original work. But does reblogging it to TALK ABOUT IT, to give it more exposure and more varied frameworks for consumption, really constitute rudeness??? I would genuinely like to know.

if Tumblr is becoming another place where intellectual exchange, including (civil, always civil!!!)criticism is seen as an unwelcome "intrusion," then I want to try to respect that (I guess?), but maybe I don't belong here anymore. And maybe it's good I realized that sooner rather than later.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Yee! You nade a second kiss or diss! Thank you! ^^

... I'm ashamed to say that younger me would have said kiss to Kaa. Me now though? I'll give him a snoot kiss. Even if he is a villain, he is a snake and as such that snoot will be booped/kissed. If he was human though?... damn it I'd probably still kiss him, but not on the nose. (Though may I raise you... Naga Kaa? Ok bye-)

I'm gonna say kiss too, but only Patchy (... ok Sideburns can have a smooch too, but after Patchy). I honestly forgot I was fond of these guys, especially Patchy, until I found your blog.

So far this whole list, including Razoul, are surprising me with how I choose kiss for them XD Before I didn't even think twice about this guy, but now I can definitely see the appeal.

Monsieur D'arque though is the first diss. I like some older characters, and he is not one of them XD

The Duke is also not one of them (I'm on mobile so no yellow for me). Two disses so far.

OH MY LORD YOU ADDED THE HUSBAND!!!! AHHHHHHH!! Yes I WILL kiss Scroop despite those fangs/mandibles. I don't care if I get cut (or poisoned, who knows with his species) accidentally or not (bro I legit had like a Fandom heart attack when I saw you added Scroop. Thank you! XD)

Wait, the Cheshire Cat is a secondary villain? I... Honestly I didn't think of him that way, but considering he got Alice in trouble with the Queen I suppose that'd be right. Regardless though, I'd say diss to cat or human version.

Oooooh boy... You know what your doing with this one, making the decision harder since we'd have to kiss the whole Toon Patrol instead of one (or more) of our choosing XD hm... You know what? Kiss. I'm curious how'd they kiss (like if it'd be one of those toony smooches or if it'd be something more like what humans would expect. Not to mention how their personalities would reflect in the kiss, like with Wheezy you'd taste ashes, Greasy is self explanatory, etc)

Nessus... I'll admit, I would say kiss, but I don't want it to evolve into anything more than that, and look at what happened with Meg. So I reluctantly diss.

Chi Fu also gets a diss. Besides, according to him, he's already got a girl

This was so fun! (Especially when you added Scroop! I'm still geeking out about him ngl XD) Thank you for posting! What about you? Who would you kiss or diss?

No worries its fun!! I have a lot more ideas, but I don't wanna overwhelm you ha ha XD

Yes Naga Kaa! Also Naga Sir Hiss and Naga Mr Snake!!

'but after patchy', haha XDD So you like the strong silent type? XD Or eyepatches?~ (I'm with you there- *looks to jim and buckman. tho buckman can definitely afford to get a new one*)

YAAAAY Razoul! And yes I added your snippy husband!!! I'm so glad you were pleased to see him!!! Haha XDD He HAD to go in!

Yeahhh, I figure Cheshire fits somewhere along the Secondary Antagonist-Minor Villain spectrum. He's definitely not a good guy (In the animated version. In the live action he helps the Mad Hatter so he's in, ^^ )

YES I DO WITH THE TOON PATROL!! Also your answer has inspired me!- I kinda wanna make a 'How they kiss' post for them now. Hmmmm. And ohhhh, yeah. Wheezy would taste like licking a damn ashtray.

I respect your reluctant Diss for Nessus, haha XD

My answers are under the cut, thank you so much for asking me! ^^

Kaa: I'm kissing that snake. So yes. Kiss. Snake form, human form, on the mouth, the snoot, the 'cheek'- whatever. I'm giving that snake a kiss. I love him and his Creepy-Winnie-The-Poo voice.

Stabbingtons: YEAH!!!! Both of them. If they'll have me- a lot.

Razoul: For sureeeeeeeee, for sure for sure for sure. Animated or live action ^^

Monsieur D'Arque: I'm gonna be the first yes for him! He's scary lookin, and I like that!

Weselton: Ehhhhh, yeah not for me. @disney-android-foundation brought up a good point with him- he doesn't look very pleasant to kiss. I dunno...

Scroop: Yes I will give the pincer man a kiss XD I'm curious how he would react!! But on the cheek- he's all yours man XD

The Cheshire Cat: I never really liked him, I was very confused about his loyalties 😅 So that's a diss from me.

Toon Patrol: I will kiss every single on of them!! INCLUDING SLIMER AND FLASHER. I love them so much ^^ XD I will give Stupid and Psycho kisses on the heads (Ohh, imagine giving Stupid a little kiss on the top of his hat <3 <3), I will give Smartass a kiss on the cheek and probably Wheezy too, and I will tongue kiss that creep Greasy.

Nessus: Oh yes I will be kissing the big, muscle centaur. If it escalates I just hope that Hercules is around XD Even Hades, even if he makes me serve him for the rest of my life. Even Pain and Panic will do. After all we don't have the phrase 'hung like a horse' for no reason- and I am not super duper keen on getting split in two like a plank of wood-

Chi Fu: Admittedly I am intrigued about how it might feel to be that one woman he thinks is above all the rest- but yeah, no, diss for now XD

[a-moth-to-the-light]

Fruits Basket Diaries, #7: Conclusion

[see part 1 here]

[see part 6 here]

I mentioned in part 2 that I was planning to do an analysis on Shigure somewhere in this series. Well, I've tried drafting it a few times now, and I still have no idea how to string my thoughts on him together. I think that writing about him would require another reading of the series, so that's something for me to look forward to! A note on why he's my favorite character (tied with Ayame, of course) for curious parties, though: suffice it to say that I get very anxious when I feel like I'm being controlled, so Shigure, with his air of uninvolvement in, well, pretty much everything, is my ideal parental figure.

I'll start with a story, one which, if I had bothered to write it down at the time, would have been a poem a few months ago. I used to say I grew up in Texas; that's where I fell in love with writing, after all, and made friends closer than any I had before. But a few months ago, I was walking through my old neighborhood in the state I currently call home, the place I lived throughout middle school and most of high school after moving away from Texas, and I felt a burst of nostalgia for what I can only describe as a second childhood. This, I decided, is where I grew up, too.

I imagined, for the longest time, a lost youth in Texas, a time pre-abuse where I was an ambitious, outgoing person now lost to mental illness, someone who, though I can logically understand her as me, I cannot claim the experiences of because of our disconnection--I feel a gulf between us, a two-year void of pain I still struggle to name. I grew up once, and it ended with flashbacks and panic attacks, my willingness to explore having been brutally burned away, I believed. Now I'm stuck this way, with not even memories of childhood to go back to. But I suppose I've proven myself wrong: PTSD and all, I grew up again in a new place, post-abuse. In my new home, I picked up new kinds of writing with an obsessiveness befitting my younger self; I discovered romantic love, supposedly a staple of coming-of-age but something I had never felt in my first childhood. When I lived in Texas, my life began to branch out, opening up to a thousand possibilities for beauty. Then it all burned down, and then, against all my expectations, the growing started again.

I can see Fruits Basket, now that I've finally finished the series, as a manifestation of this change. During my first read, it was just a coping mechanism to deal with depression; during the second, a window into the mind of the haunted self who had read it the first time around. This time around, all hell broke loose, but in the best way possible--I've written about all sorts of topics in Fruits Basket, left a thousand sticky notes throughout the 23 volumes, surprising myself with how much of this writing is about, well, not-abuse. PTSD often makes me feel like I'm living the same few years on infinite loop--recreating the same relationship dynamics, feeling the same intense emotions, shutting down in the same way I did all those years ago. But these days, I have so much more to say than I thought I did--I grew up again, and that means so much has happened in my life that trauma hasn't stolen from me. I have so much to talk about--years' worth of varied, vibrant life. I had my second childhood, years spent in a new, colorful world just waiting for me to explore it. Don't get me wrong, my worst years will probably have me in a stranglehold for a good long while, but I realize there is so much more to me. I'm a lesbian genderqueer-being-thing who loves talking about all things queerness; I'm a hopeless romantic who, while tired of love, can't quite bring myself to erase it from my life; I'm a childish adult who sees my mannerisms reflected in Tohru, Momiji, and Ayame.

In short, Fruits Basket was exciting. Throughout the time I spent reading the manga this summer, I was vivid, constantly chattering and giggling to myself about some idea or other in the story. I never feel more like myself than when I'm bursting at the seams with a thousand things to say, so Fruits Basket, with its buzzy, energetic plot and dedication to developing its ensemble cast, made me feel more human than I've felt in a long while. I'm so glad I finally got to finish reading this series, a project five-ish years in the making!

From the start, the characters from Fruits Basket have been a family for me, models for the messy but also loving and colorful life that I so badly craved back in 2017, when I first encountered volume 1. And now--now I have that life. I grew into it, growing up again, throughout high school, and now some of the newness is gone--I'm more settled at my writing desk; my tastes in music, books, and people are much more established; all my future loves will emerge, likely more successful, from my experiences with my first ones. Though there will always be new things, I now have a home, both metaphorical and physical, I can call my own and return to after a long day of the chaos that is this world. Fruits Basket was once the only family I felt connected to, a source of warmth and light I couldn't find elsewhere; today, I'm blessed with more than one family, and my mind is a source of warmth all on its own. I'm proud to say that I became what I loved so much about Fruits Basket back in 2017: messy, loving, colorful.

So, um, wow. Yes, Fruits Basket holds up; I think it actually got better for me over time, my more experienced self able to find even more richness in it than I did before. In chapter 69, Haru tells Yuki that he thinks the unknowns of student council are good for Yuki, and I love how, in Fruits Basket Another, Natsuki Takaya gives only limited glimpses of original main characters, obscuring their faces and making few references to their current lives and personalities. She leaves her original characters to their unknowns; for the longest time, characters like Tohru, Yuki, and Kyo had very limited agency, but once we let them go at the end of Volume 23, she respects their ability to be whoever they want now that they're free. So, for the time being at least (believe you me, when I decide I want to reread this series no library can stop me), I'll leave everyone from Fruits Basket to their unknowns, to lives that get to be completely theirs, and I'll face my own. If I can become chock-full of words and experiences in just a few years, able to blabber on and on about all sorts of things in Fruits Basket that I never would have thought deeply about before, I can only imagine the range of possibilities for the rest of my life. Right now, I'm thinking a walk sounds about right. It's sunny out!

#six grows up #thanks for joining me during this series! tracking my reading in this way was really fulfilling and i can't wait to do it again :) #overall fruits basket has officially earned a place on the faves list!!! #have i known this since i first read volume 1 five years ago? yes. but i felt like i needed to finish it before i made anything official-- #fruits basket diaries #fruits basket manga #fruits basket #cw abuse #cw child abuse #cw ptsd

[ndx94]

One thing I have found about myself is that I'm world-weary but still worldly...

After the Sewol I started to see how unfair society was. Maybe I was more ignorant than others, but I really used to think that being poor just meant you didn't have a lot of stuff. I didn't realize it meant being in constant danger from recurrent crises. But after the Sewol I realized so much of this world is set up to preserve the rich and really in some ways the poor are hunted for sport, or just held as cheap. There's a Russian author who said people even value their own lives more when they have money but that being broke cheapens one's self-esteem / self-worth.

This is a lonely world. Sometimes I reflect on my own greed. I wanted the best of everything for myself. I realize in retrospect that I was trying to live happily alone. I wanted the best music, the best food, all the free time in the world. Because I didn't have children and because my parents were well-off, I felt little obligation to take care of others.

I didn't realize how many people are just trying to survive - just trying to be safe. Although some people hoard money and don't trust God, I don't think it is wrong to save. Although some people turn to pleasure too much - they just want to eat and sleep and be somewhat stimulated - I don't think it is always wrong to pursue well-being.

But Man was born to live by faith. For all the fancy things that scientists and artists and philosophers can say about the Sewol ferry, and for all the promises that governments can make to their people and individuals make to themselves, the most important thing is having true faith in God.

Honestly, when I was younger I used to want to die young. I didn't really want to face some things in life. And when the Sewol happened I thought, Good, they died while they were still happy teenagers, surrounded by their high school friends. They didn't have to go through all kinds of losses and transitions. I thought God was merciful to them. But in retrospect I'm not sure God wanted the Sewol to happen; God is not the author of evil; and it's unfair to cut someone's life off before they have the chance to become an adult and live for others.

God is sovereign, but He doesn't interfere with Man's free will. If people illegally modify their ships and overload them with cargo, such that they are in danger of capsizing and sinking, God won't always interfere with the natural laws of physics. Sometimes we think that we can manifest things like dreams and desires and that our thoughts and words have mystic power... but for me, honestly at times my faith is weak. I'm not sure it is God's will for everyone to be so prosperous that they can feel truly safe in this world, "free from fear" as FDR would say. I think some of us have to learn courage in the face of danger. I could be wrong. Anyway, for me I feel like I have to overcome fear.

So I turned 39 on 4.7 and the Sewol anniversary was 4.16. I honestly never expected to live this long. I didn't have plans for my late 30's. When I was in my 20's and teens I just wanted to be a writer. I still want to write but I'm not sure that is the most important thing. I'm trying to pursue a career as a teacher and thinking, at the same time, about transitioning into a technical field. I still want to write a novel about Korea. I have an idea for a novel based on the Sewol: a couple meet and fall in love in Bundang (a rich suburb of Seoul), and marry and go on their honeymoon, in late 2013. 2014 comes around, and they have all kinds of plans for the future - they are happy to live in the Korean nation - but then the Sewol comes and traumatizes everyone. They become embroiled in the politics but also the terrible poetry - a vessel called "Time," a steel sarcophagus. In the end they decide God is sovereign in all things, but are left with unquiet hearts. The dream breaks, and they realize that they have somewhat wasted their youth. They just want to build a safe life and be happy and perhaps have children together.

[mitigatingacademics]

I was first introduced to Mr. Hopwood in Carrissa Byrne Hessick's Punishment Without Trial: Why Plea Bargaining Is A Bad Deal.

My review of that work can be found HERE.

I was struck by the absurdity of Mr. Hopwood's heavy reliance on the idea that we all, seemingly without exception, go through some sort of 'felonious phase' during our youth.

That this is expected and relatable.

His entire worldview seems to emanate from the truth and acceptance of this supposition.

Accidentally stumbling upon his memoir on Kindle Unlimited and, owing either to a desire of wanting to give him a fair shot to explain himself, or just hating myself enough to feel the need to suffer through it, I couldn't pass it up.

Suffice it to say, I got what I expected.

I gave it a generous 3 stars on Goodreads. Would have gone for 2.5 if that were an option.

The storytelling, especially in the beginning was engaging and well written. He lost me in the latter parts, though.

Examples of what, in my opinion, are telling snippets, along with my commentary, can be found under the cut.

"…it is a fact that the men of our family surely bristle against authority when they are young, and I was no exception." (p. 37)

I mean, if we're going to claim genetic determinism from the jump, we should have known what we were getting into, right?

Boys will be boys, etc.

Without even attempting to explain the ridiculousness of the thought processes involved, Shon tells his readers that his ultimate reason for proceeding with the first of his five armed bank robberies was that he had failed to show for a court date related to writing bad checks and his arrest was imminent, anyway.

Might as well go big and go to prison, yeah?

"Every Friday night Ryan bought a large, expensive box of nachos with everything. And he was smoking weed with everyone, me included." (p. 75)

Prison sounds like hell.

Glad to hear you were seriously reflecting on why you were in there.

"…having a few black friends made me feel more normal, like the time back in the Navy and in the happy days of bank jobs. It also set me apart as someone a little different in prison, and I think I wanted that." (p. 78)

A somewhat eyebrow raising take on race relations, reflections on more enjoyable times on the run committing felonies, and admitting his own desire for exceptionalism. A lot to unpack there.

"When you think about it, the world is full of people doing good work because they never got caught doing that very stupid something when they were younger and crazier." (p. 101)

Absolutely not.

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

I'm not saying this statement is not EVER true, but the VAST MAJORITY of us DO NOT go on violent crime sprees in our youth that we need to repent for in adulthood.

The "stupid" acts of a young person =/= AGGRAVATED FELONIES.

Absolutely not.

Refers to what, in all other realities, would be a sexual assault experienced by his girlfriend as a "too-hot date" that "taught her a hard life lesson." (p. 137)

This made me feel a little sick, to be honest.

There is still a part of me that hopes I've misinterpreted his meaning, but I don't believe that's the case.

Attributes his assigned counselor asking him how he's doing as an indication that he was "on a different path than most"

"I always tried to talk to guards like equals. I used to tell them that we all had the same goal, which was to make it through our time as easily as possible and then go home." (p. 140)

"Humble" and "self-aware" don't seem to apply at all.

Despite earlier mentioning that the prison staff "weren't exactly helpful" in his jailhouse lawyer endeavors, the special treatment and exceptions to rules applied to others that he received from the prison to "help out" with the Fellers SCOTUS brief were nothing short of stupefyingly outrageous.

"The months and cases rolled by. I was cranking out documents like a print shop. I had lots of time to work on cases because my back hurt so bad that I was bed ridden on and off for six months. Basketball falls and weightlifting had seriously damaged my lower back." (p. 199)

So sorry about the recreational injuries you incurred during your hard time paying your dept to society.

He speaks ad nauseam (one too many times to be ignored) about the incompetence of attorneys that allowed for other inmates to end up in prison.

Where he also was.

And deserved to be.

For the CRIMES he had committed.

"Lock-downs were a respite from the multitude of legal questions from guys who regularly mixed up words like 'retroactive' and 'radioactive'." (p. 234)

Shon seems to be a person with enough intelligence to often come across as repentant, grateful, God fearing, etc. ...but the way he sets himself apart (and above) others always seems to make its way through.

Once released, he got a job at a printing factory working with Supreme Court briefs.

"They had already found a good candidate to fill the job before I even applied. They were about to make the phone call to complete the hire when my resume arrived." (p. 251)

...so he cost a qualified non-felon a job.

"The Cockles had long been trying to capture Seth's attention and a portion of his business." (p. 252)

...and that's why.

Because the the business was interested in a contact he never should have been able to make while practicing law from a jail cell.

"Later, I learned that a few of my friends with serious convictions who had gone to law school had also scored federal appellate clerkships. I don't think that would've happened had Judge Brown not said yes to me first." (p. 311)

...and why is that exactly? Because you're the only Felon, esq. exceptional enough to be a trailblazer?

Finally, almost more than anything else, I take issue with the hypocrisy of the religion he finds towards the end of the book.

He cites God for his ridiculous good fortune, but makes no explanation as to why God fails to bless so many others in similar ways.

Exceptional in God's eyes, too, I guess.

I could feel my blood pressure rising just typing up this review and I am ever so glad to be done with it.

#Books #Book Reviews #Shon Hopwood #Law Man: Memoir of a Jailhouse Lawyer

[sugar-spice-everything-vice]

Thoughts re: Shameless as I near the end

Shameless has this tendency to be progressive but not that progressive like there’s a like drawn there and sometimes it’s subtle and sometimes they make it really obvious and that’s so cringe to me

Like the stuff with Liam’s schools name is very much making fun of older generations getting mad about holding people accountable cause history but at the same time it is actually also making fun of the younger generations for wanting to hold everyone accountable because everyone’s problematic and that just feels like such disingenuous lib shit; very Gen X, bill marr (?) energy

It also has this issue where sometimes it presents progressive ideas and doesn’t really do anything with it like they’re presenting it simply for the facade of progressivism like they’re waiting for applause or a pat on the back which is very lib shit and also very cringe

And it’s interesting because I feel like this becomes more prominent in the later seasons which is pretty consistent with it being around the time when gen x starting to become more “conservative” cringe libs as the younger generation starts to get a voice and that voice is more progressive

The writers are self reporting here really

I think they did the rent/landlord stuff fine

I think the way they handle the medical system screwing over poor people is fine 

I think they did the cops being pieces of shit and the whole system being fucked which makes the “good cap” narrative pointless fine although the conclusion they come to is lacking, I find (but what do I expect when they do anything with Carl)

I have mixed feelings about their take on gentrification; mostly fine yes but feels very complacent like in a it is what it is way; and arguably it is what it is and it’s a reflection of real life but that’s just not satisfying to me cause it is fiction and it isn’t real life; the places where they choose to draw the lines are telling I think 

Perfect example - the show is very homophobia bad and gay is okay but we draw the line at bisexuality and taking that seriously; like…very telling

They’re like immigration bad until we can use it for a joke and then we’ll forget about it after we’ve gotten our applause for including that cause we care but we don’t care that much 

they need to do better at committing; which does mean making the story more focused. I think that’s why the earlier seasons feel different from the later ones; the older seasons are more focused more centralized more contained to the south side; but then they started making it less focused, less contained, bringing in outside stuff, countrywide stuff, trying to make too many statements, trying to do too much and not committing enough to all the things they bring up. Don’t bring up a whole theme if it adds nothing to the story and it’s not a thing you’re actually exploring or addressing. It makes the story unfocused; chaotic in a bad way 

I think this overall may be where a lot of my frustration with the show comes from; 0/10 not based enough

But 10/10 for Carl’s existence 

#i just have one episode left guys #shameless #thoughts

[sellieellie]

things aren’t great at the moment.

i think im done with connor. it’s just too much. it’s one thing dealing with my new discoveries about my sexuality, but i also just don’t think he’s good for me. hes fucking scary when he’s drunk and i just think that’s where i draw the line. if i think he’s gonna hurt someone, or me, then i can’t respect myself and give myself to him at the same time. not only this, but he’s mean. he tells us to shut up for no reason or he screams at people and it makes me so anxious. and i can’t be with someone who constantly has me in fight or flight. it’s just not good for my (already extreme) anxiety. im just too fragile for all of it and i need someone who’s gentle enough to deal with that.

not only this, but im not even sure i was attracted to him in the first place. i think i was just attracted to the fact that he was attracted to me. and that isn’t healthy. i hate to

make a comparison to spencer, but when i liked him and he would hold me or make moves on me i wouldn’t feel embarrassed or anxious. but when connor does, i do. i just want to be loved so much but i respect myself too much to be loved by someone who won’t love me right.

he also just seems to have no regard for himself or his future. and if he can’t care for himself, how is he supposed to care about another person? i think he needs to heal before he starts something again or he’s just going to have another toxic relationship.

and i hate how much anxiety this is causing me. because i don’t want to hurt anyone but it’s invevitable at this point. and it makes me feel like shit because i don’t want him to think i was stringing him along while i was just trying to figure out my feelings. and i also don’t want it to affect the dynamic of the group or make things awkward for anyone else. i just wish the group would’ve thought about it before they pushed us together and i wish i would’ve thought about it before i pursued it. but i was also younger back then. i feel like i’ve done so much self reflecting the past year. i don’t know.

im just scared to talk to him about it. im so fucking afraid. because i know he’ll get mad but im not sure how he’ll react. i like to think he’d never get violent with me but i truly have no idea. i hate how scared i am of him and i hate how long ot took me to differentiate between being nervous in a sweet way to see him versus being straight up afraid of him.

i think i might just have to come clean. and tell him (in expectation that he won’t share this info because it’s quite literally my childhood trauma) i grew up in an environment where there was constant yelling and things did sometimes get physical so violence and loudness just bothers me to an extent where it has a negative affect on not only my body but also my mind. and it kind of makes me scared of him because my past has taught me to be scared of things like that. and if we want to continue this relationship i think we both need to work on ourselves first if we want to be with each other. because i obviously need to work on dealing with my childhood but he also needs to work on dealing with his anger and his alcohol issues. and i need to protect myself from the stress i feel when im around him because i never know if he’s gonna be sweet or mean. and i know that he’s genuinely a good guy and that he has good intentions but im just not able to deal with this. and i’d still love for him to hang with our friend group because i know they’re his friends too but maybe we just have to keep our distance. and if he doesn’t want to change for me, i won’t force him to but if he doesn’t change then i will no longer pursue what we have. id love to stay friends if he wants to but i can’t deal with this.

im just scared. the last thing i want to do is hurt anyone but he’s hurt me and i don’t even think he knows it. i hardly even know a version of him that isn’t drunk. it freaks me out.

i feel like im talking in circles. totally my bad.

i think im gonna go over what im gonna say with bella first. maybe the high schoolers as well. i just know the girls will understand and i appreciate them so much.

i just know it’s not fair to me or to him to keep stringing this along if im not 100%. especially after he just found out i like him. i feel like im doing what was done to me last summer and i feel so fuckinh guilty about it. i hate knowing that i might hurt someone. i know he’ll pretend that it rolls right off his back but it’ll hurt him. and i hate that im the cause of it. but it has to be done. maybe i don’t mean as much to him as he does to me. maybe he hasn’t been thinking about this constantly like i have. maybe he’s just not there.

anyways. hoping that i have the opportunity to talk to bella more about this soon. and i hate to do this, but spencer may be able to offer some advice as well. im not sure if we’ll ask him or not because i know he’ll always take connors side i think and try to play wingman. idk. we’ll see. im going to bella first.

as for the other parts of my life, things aren’t awful. they’re just a lot. everything is stressing me out to no end and i wish i could sleep for a full week and not have to talk to anyone or show up for anyone or anything. part of me wants to get really sick for a second so i can just chill. maybe flu or something. idk.

this is also gonna sound so privileged, but the thing that kept me going at work last summer was that i got to spend my money on things that are important to me but lately all i’ve been spending on is stuff for my sisters wedding of others birthdays and it makes me lose all motivation. i haven’t bought anything but food for myself with these paychecks so far. it fucking sucks. but it is what it is i guess.

im also getting increasingly anxious about mom. she never feels okay and i feel awful about it. i wish i could do more to help but all we can do right now is wait.

im also thinking about dropping out of my dorm and deciding to commute. i just don’t love my roommates and i don’t want a repeat of last year. it would also save a lot of money, which we need right now for moms surgeries.

but yeah. that’s pretty much all. i wish i had more good stuff to say but my heart is just full of anxiety and sorrow lately. idk. things aren’t great. i wish they were better. hopefully they will be soon because i don’t know how much longer i can deal with it.

[jeanmoreaux]

i know i’m awfully late and no one really cares bc it’s already old news and everybody knows, but fearless (taylor’s version) is so good wtf

#and the humming parts in hey stephen have been stuck in my head for days now #and i’m so not mad about it #/// #i have not been online a couple of days bc i am really busy with uni atm #but i listened to fearless tv on release day and every day since and i am mildly obsessed again #i love her mature vocals with these songs!! #i just really connect to them on a different level know?? is that weird?? idk #it definitely makes me nostalgic listening to these songs #really transports me back to my much younger self #it makes me reflect on my younger self too and all the ideas and expectations i had #funnily enough i think i like the rerecordings as much as the old versions and some song i actually prefer taylor’s version #her vocals just improved so much #and the production is so good too #i mean tell me why is just such a good song but she made it even better somehow??? same goes for the piano version of forever&always!! #i feel offended how dare she #i realized i haven’t been listening to fearless a lot in past couple of years which is such a shame #even tho there are so many bops #aaahh okay i just had to get this off my chest bc my family and friends don’t care #so i needed to dump this information on someone #and what’s the internet for if not rambling about the things you like but no one you know irl cares about #hope you are all having a lovely day <3 #mish rambles #ts #okay i’ll probably be back in a couple of hours 😅

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

twelve hours, m | jjk | ... and now

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You have twelve hours to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you. He's about to get married. You're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. Long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. Nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.

this is part ii | click here for part i | total wc: 23k

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse and graphic violence, including the reader becoming physically scarred and having panic attacks; rich, this bachelor party is on a fuckin' YACHT, the best man is LOADED; JK and reader interacted in high school; angst and fluff and feels; cheating; this is mostly smut XD; (in part i) high school smut + intense adult smut (fem reader, striptease, semi-public sex at school, nipple play (he's a bit obsessed with them), dry humping, m-masturbation, handjob, cumming on tits (and diamonds), cum-eating, mirror kink, spitting, tit fucking, m-receiving oral, scratching / biting / marking, penetrative sex, doggy); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV

non-idol!AU; film director!Jungkook x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader — ft best man, art trader!Kim Taehyung; dancer's bodyguard!Kim Namjoon and bodyguard!Kim Seokjin

> eyebrow pierced, tattooed, and long black-haired JK (with undercut) in a black suit because that's what we need in this life > look for TXT's 'you and me and the sky at 5:53' :)

--

time left: 06:49

No.

Don’t leave me.

It was the same then as it was now.

Jungkook reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. Her eyes widened, pivoting quickly on her toe, snapping her heel down and cutting the turn short, black skirt flaring out. The swift glimpse of her legs in the high slit, the gentle bounce of her breasts in the slinky fabric. Her manicured hair bounced, dyed blue-black and giving her skin a surreal quality.

He held on.

Please don’t disappear.

“What?”

Her brows knitted together. She didn’t pull her arm away, but she was steadfast in her posture, not letting him push her around. Not that he ever could.

“He asked me to escort you back,” Jungkook found himself saying. “If not for your sake, then for his peace of mind. I don’t want to be a liar.”

Her features softened.

His fingers around her arm, touching that soft skin once more.

I care. I care a lot.

Jungkook realized that, in a way, he had never moved past those classrooms, those touches, those kisses, those moments.

“You can let go now.”

She said it patiently. Always patient with him despite his overzealous and sometimes clumsy antics, putting up with it even when she didn’t have to. He looked into those eyes and found those walls were falling away, little by little. Winged liner, red lipstick, it didn’t matter, it was the same expression, defiant eyes and hint of a scowl on those lips. Ready to fight, but not him.

She was always a fighter and the opponent was always life itself.

“I don’t want to let go.”

He didn’t expect himself to say the truth, but he did.

She smirked, reaching up, her fingers covering his tattoos for a moment, placing them on the back of his hand. This warmth. This feeling. It was not the same as the rest, and he knew that now.

“Hm, well, you must realize this looks a bit awkward. You wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression, would you?”

Wouldn't want someone to see you talking to me, right?

“You will let me escort you?” he insisted.

She pried his hand from her arm and lowered it, turning the other way.

“You are welcome to do as you like. I won’t stop you, golden boy.”

-

time left: 06:41

He followed you, surrounded by moonlight reflecting off water.

It streamed through the windows, lighting the red carpeted hall along with the dim sconces. You found yourself stepping in each lighted square, avoiding the thin dark beams of the windows, a little game for yourself, like how children avoided the cracks in the concrete sidewalks, except you were on a lavish yacht wearing Louboutins with a handsome man in step behind you.

It was quiet and yet it wasn’t. Small sounds, footsteps, distant muffles of talking through the walls, the faint sound of bass as you walked away from the party, the sound of the ocean ever present, your own breathing.

Jungkook’s breathing.

Familiar.

Once yours.

You looked to your right, to the window, seeing his reflection. His profile, hands in his pockets, tattooed arm standing out against the black background of his clothes, dressed formally but always a bit sheepish about it, as if he wasn’t sure if it looked good on him, but it always did, even the school uniform. He still had the youthfulness about him, even as a man.

Your eyes found his and he was watching your face in the glass of the window.

You stopped abruptly, pivoting on one heel to face him.

Impulse.

Your younger self would have bristled, glaring, accusing the eyes and snapping, what are you looking at?

Jungkook started, realizing you had noticed, and tripped, his black hair suddenly disturbed and tumbling over his eyes as he struggled to catch himself, hands flying out of his pockets.

You caught one, lacing your fingers with his, and gripped tightly, yanking up.

He righted himself, gasping. Looking up, bent over and long legs awkward, somewhat like a fawn trying to get on its legs for the first time. Those big brown eyes, parted pink lips. Familiar.

Your joined hands fell exactly where the window beam was, shrouded in shadow.

“Something on your mind?” you chuckled, shaking your head.

He straightened. You loosened your grip on his hand, but he held on. You frowned slightly, raising your brows.

He swallowed hard.

“Can I hold your hand? Please.”

Back then, you would hold his hand, hiding behind corners and dashing past, holding your breath, light steps, leaping from shadow to shadow, bodies close, breath mixing. Showing him all the secrets of the school that you had found while wandering, a fun little game with a reward at the end, school uniform being shed, skin to skin, his body against yours, his heartbeat in time with yours, his lips on yours.

You shrugged and turned back around, his hand tightly around yours.

-

time left: 06:35

Jungkook held her hand.

In an instant, he looked down, staring at their joined hands.

This was different.

And then he saw them.

Scars, all over the back of her hand. He could feel the scar tissue on her palms too, lines on her fingers even though she was holding him loosely. He had memorized every centimeter of her beautiful hands from back then, and these lines were not here before. These were not scars from living life. These had been cuts, healed now, unseen from far away and even up close. Perhaps they had been filled in with tattoo ink in a color to match her skin tone so they were less noticeable.

No one would know unless they were holding her hand or looking for it.

Without knowing it, Jungkook clutched her hand tighter, a sudden ache in his chest.

He had found bruises on her sometimes.

I fell down the stairs. It's nothing.

He had found welts.

Stupid fight with some dumbass.

He had found a criss-cross pattern of cuts on her leg.

I tried to jump over a fence and fucked up.

He glanced at her other hand loosely by her side. The same. He could even see her palm and there were many, many lines, all over her palm, healed cuts. Drugs? But he knew it wasn’t. Not because he had a romanticized idea of who she would be in his head, but because that was the nice answer.

That was the reasonable answer.

“Oh!”

“Excuse me, miss.”

His eyes flickered upward to see a young woman in a short midnight blue dress pausing, looking from her to him, cheeks flushed, not being subtle about it. The glittery fabric picked up the moonlight, accenting her curves and long legs. Pretty.

But not sensual.

Not immaculate.

Not teasing and sculptural.

The grip on his hand tightened so much that he inhaled sharply, fingers nearly crushed by her hold.

“Have a nice evening,” the woman in black purred, edge of ice indicating the stranger to move along, or, more accurately, fuck right off.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, and yet.

His heart skipped two beats as she dragged him along.

He had no problem looking away from the other woman and fixate on the back of that neatly pinned, blue-black hair, graceful shoulders, corseted waist, swaying hips.

And her hand in his, not letting go.

-

time left: 06:22

“This is it.”

You turned to see Jungkook looking around, mouth open, gawking at the entrance of the intricately carved wooden door. It was one of the grander, first-class rooms. The red doors were much farther apart and the sconces here were glided with glass-blown lampshades, casting swirls of orange across the white walls, dimmed now from the late night.

“It was nice to see you again.”

It was, even with the bitter taste in your mouth that seemed to linger.

His eyes came back to you, dark brown and clear, focused on only your face, long black strands framing his cheeks, the small mole underneath his lower lip trembling.

“I hope you have your happiness now, Jungkook.”

You did.

You felt a strange, unmovable pressure on your chest. The time wasn’t up yet. You could still try. You could keep your hold on his hand and drag him into the room and hold him close to you, skin to skin, lips on his, and show him all you’ve learned. You could. You could see it in those eyes. He would follow you now, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe for old times sake, maybe out of impulse and bad choices.

You let go.

You let go, because you didn’t want to be a bad choice.

Not to him, Jeon Jungkook.

“You were my small happiness, back then,” you said softly, feeling yourself smile.

It was better not to have regrets. At the time, even you didn’t know how important he had been. The thought of being withdrawn from that school and not being able to see him again made you fight back for once, and it ended in the very thing you didn’t want. It fucked up your hands, it fucked up your life, but somehow you found yourself here now, in expensive clothes on an expensive boat with expensive tastes, able to make a choice between selfishness or selflessness.

Maybe you hadn’t changed much after all, since you found yourself choosing the latter.

You turned away and pulled your hand out of his.

Or would have, if Jungkook hadn’t grasped your hand tighter, yanking you back and shoving you against the door of your suite. Your hand automatically raised to push him back, but he put his whole weight on your body, sandwiching you between the door and himself, making you gasp, trapped between dead timber and muscular hardness.

Now his face was in your face, breathing hard, dark brown orbs shaking and shining with wetness.

You froze, lips parting.

“You were my happiness too.”

He was panting, warm exhale on your lips.

“Not a small happiness. The happiness.”

He squeezed your hand like you were going to disappear.

“I didn’t know then, but I do now,” Jungkook shuddered, towering over you even in your heels. He stared into your eyes. “Your smile.”

You blinked slowly, confused.

“Your smile. I’ve never seen it reach your eyes.”

Heart racing, suddenly breathless.

“Except when you thought I couldn’t see, like when my back was turned or my face was turned away from you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, long black hair curtaining your faces, sending you back to the shadows. “I saw it though, in reflections. In windows. In mirrors. In those beakers in the science room.”

Was that so? Had that been you? You made it a point not to smile back then, because there had been nothing to smile about. But maybe… maybe when eyes weren’t on you, maybe when you yourself didn’t notice, but, somehow, Jungkook had noticed.

You realized that your introspection had diverted your attention from him, so you made eye contact again, airless at his closeness. Your eyes and his, lost in sweet dreams.

“I want to kiss you.”

He tilted his head and hesitated.

“I want to kiss you all the time,” he said to your lips.

His expression was clouded with shame. It was ugly. It made his handsome features ugly and you didn’t like that. You wanted to make it go away. You closed more distance, fingers pressing down on the back of his hand, your other hand raising and resting on his hip, lashes lowering.

“Then kiss me,” you said to his lips.

-

time left: 06:13

Jungkook kissed her.

From then and now, it was the same.

Euphoria.

But this time, it wasn’t clumsy with colliding teeth and too much tongue that did nothing, sloppy with no purpose. This time, his lips were soft at first and so were hers, breathing in each other’s scent. She smelled warm and musky, like blackberry and evergreens, expensive and lush, but somehow still her, still that girl from back then, comforting and intense, sometimes with the hint of metallic blood, but that never bothered him. Her hand on his hip, stroking it under the layers of fabric, making him shiver, caressing the back of his hand with her fingertips, delicate sigh in his mouth.

The faintest flicker of tongue on the edge of her upper lip, swiping down into his open mouth.

He moaned, feeling the strong wet muscle thrust into his lips, coaxing his tongue, teasing, pressing her body to his, breasts against his chest, their deep open necklines exchanging heat in the air between their skin but not quite touching, and he found himself letting go of her hand, reaching up to grab her breasts.

Her fingers closed around his wrists, forcing him to stop.

He gasped in her mouth, eyes opening.

“They’re not stress balls, Jungkook,” she snickered.

He was breathing hard, ribcage shuddering, heartbeat thundering in his ears, getting louder as he realized her red lipstick was a little messed up, feeling the stickiness on his own lips.

“You need to slow down. You can’t just grope me out in the open.”

His impatience spoke for him.

“Why not?”

His voice was low, octave deepened from lust.

Her lips curved into an amused smirk. “Oh? You have changed. You used to be so worried about someone seeing us. If anything, you should be more worried now, considering your beloved.”

“She’s not my beloved.”

She was still holding his wrists, but her head tilted, watching his eyes carefully. He sucked in a shuddering breath, feeling the guilt.

“We… we thought it would be a good idea. Because our friends told us we look nice together. It would help her career. I wouldn’t have to invest too much into it.”

He felt ashamed, but he didn’t look away because he didn’t want her to think he was lying.

“I never found a smile like yours. I accepted that I never would.”

Her eyes darkened.

“It’s dangerous, Jungkook. Ill-advised.”

He smiled and he didn’t know if it reached his eyes because his vision was blurry.

But he knew it wasn’t a lie.

“You always were. I should have chased you to the ends of the earth, even if you were only a ghost.”

He lifted his hands, hers with his, and cupped her face, running his fingertips over her cheeks, smooth and soft skin, transported back to that moment in the abandoned literature club room, her face cast in an orange glow, actually swirls from glass-blown sconces, but the past and present connected, turning it into rays from the setting sun that lit up her features, and he said what he had said then, because it was the truth.

“You’re really pretty.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You are.”

He leaned forward and kissed the side of her lips gently.

She chuckled.

“You really are something, Jeon Jungkook.”

Her hands let go and she reached into the deep neckline of her dress, plucking something from the corset. His eyes widened as she pulled out the key card from between her breasts, smirk dancing on her lips. She winked at him.

“A lady has many hiding places.”

She flicked her wrist and inserted it into the door, unlocking it without looking.

The door opened and they stepped into her room.

-

time left: 06:02

“Hnnnnnnngh…”

“Dude can snore.”

“Help me turn him to his side. Don’t want him to vomit in his mouth and asphyxiate,” Kim Namjoon grunted, helped by Kim Seokjin, jerking Kim Taehyung’s body to the side. They backed up and Taehyung immediately flopped to his back, snoring away.

Seokjin thinned his mouth into a line. “Seriously?”

“Ah, here, let’s roll up the towels and use them to prop him up.”

“He’s not as cute as she is.”

“Well, she also doesn’t get piss drunk... ever.”

“Still a better cuddle buddy. Comes with built-in pillows.”

Namjoon blinked at Seokjin and shook his head, letting the odd comment slide. They managed to jam the bath towels next to Taehyung and force him to lay on his side, placing a pillow in his arms that he immediately hugged, squeezing it tightly. The snoring lessened as well.

“Guess we should go back,” Namjoon sighed, rubbing the back of his short hair.

Seokjin scoffed. “No, we shouldn’t. They’re probably all over each other as we speak.”

Namjoon frowned, raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Really? I don’t know. She seemed very hesitant about it. She said she didn’t love him.”

Seokjin snorted, somehow still elegant with his handsome face. “You really believe that?”

“That’s what she said.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what everybody says when they don’t want to admit they’re in love with someone.”

“That’s also what people say when they are, factually, not in love with someone.”

The black-haired man raised his hands and held up his index fingers, wriggling them in the air and bending them ninety-degrees, squiggling them around each other and poking the tips together repeatedly. Namjoon blinked at him.

“What are you doing?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes as if it was despairingly obvious what he was doing. “A visual representation of what they’re doing right now.”

Namjoon contorted his face in confusion, raising an eyebrow.

“… Becoming worms…?”

Seokjin groaned. “Having sex, Namjoon.”

“… How is that…?”

-

time left: 05:53

The door to his dreams unsealed and they tumbled inside.

The orange glow of the hallway lights spilled into the room, bleeding into the cool glow that came from the open windows, curtains pulled back to reveal the shimmering sea and bright moon, a contrast of artificial dusk and true nightfall. She pulled him in by his belt, hooking two fingers under the leather, step by sweeping step, grace that made him breathless, orange and silver and shadow, all mixing together, and then the door closed and then the sea and the moon replaced the sunset dreams.

It was a heavy thunk, closing with finality.

The room had many ornate mirrors in it to make the room seem bigger. The had gold vintage frames of different shapes and sizes, reflecting the contents of the room, the large bed and red silk sheets, the black leather chairs and black marble table bolted down to the floor, the matching marble vanity laid out with several black leather cosmetic bags, all zipped up neatly. The had small details on them – red zippers, silver locks, the designer logo engraved into the leather. The suitcases leaning against the wall matched the cosmetic bags, three of them, one larger than the first two.

Jungkook breathed her name, raising his hand, fingers spread.

Her fingertips touched his, halting him.

“Let me do it.”

He spied his expression in one of the mirrors.

The silver moonlight lit up his face and his eyes, reflecting the lust and trust in them.

He looked back to her and nodded.

“Okay.”

Glamour. Fantasy. Descent.

That was the only way he could describe the way she moved, glamour in the way her hand slowly retreated from his, a steady wave and sweep, clearly deliberate. Even in smeared lipstick, the small smirk was present on those lips, stepping around him with a swing of her hips and gentle clicks of her black patent leather heels, the slinky fabric flowing with her actions and also clinging to her body at the same time, using the arc of her stride to spread open the high slit. Letting him watch. He almost turned to follow but she placed a few fingers on his arm, purring softly.

“Don’t move.”

Fantasy, the way she slipped behind him like a shadow, and then Jungkook had to look up into the mirrors, catching glimpses of her behind him. There was no music, but she moved as if there was. If anything, the sound of the waves seemed to form its own music, and he was suddenly more aware of it, the splashes against the hull of the boat mixing with the bass of his heartbeat and the wispiness of her breath, stepping up behind him, body heat making him gasp, looking into a mirror to his left, a window illuminating his right, her hands slipping between the space of his ribs and upper arms, fingers spread like wings, warm exhale on his neck.

No words.

Just a simple kiss to the base of his head and her lips murmuring his name on his skin.

Descent.

One by one, teasing the buttons apart, her fingers ghosting the exposed skin, his heart racing as he watched those hands, peeling apart the button placket, unwrapping him like a decadent sweet. He watched his own expression framed by long curls of black, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, small mole below quivering, seeing more and more of his chest being exposed, somewhat self-conscious, but there was something spellbinding about only being able to see her hands and forearms, pointed black nails decorated with crystals that caught the light, undoing all the buttons until she reached his pants.

“I can–”

“Shh. Don’t let your impatience prevent you from enjoying your own striptease.”

His cheeks heated a little and he lowered his hands, breath hiking as she firmly gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it out. Jungkook took a step back, his back hitting her chest, and gasped again, feeling the softness, but she adjusted her position so her body wasn’t touching his anymore, chiding him playfully.

“Never had someone take off your clothes, Jungkook?” she chuckled against his neck, making his hairs stand on end.

“Ah, well…”

He watched those deft fingers undo the last two buttons. Then they spread apart his black shirt, reaching in, fingertips spreading out over his abs and pecs, tracing the contours of his muscles, switching between her nails and the pads of her fingertips, prickling and dainty. He couldn’t sure her face, but he saw his, and only now registered his own moans, so absorbed by her sensual movement and her touch that he didn’t even realize the embarrassing sounds falling from his lips.

“Not… since you…”

She snickered. “Seriously? What fool wouldn’t want to tear the clothes off this lovely body?”

He could feel and see his flush in the mirror. He looked away quickly, down to her hands exploring his body. “Well, I just… figured it’s easier if I do it. No one has ever been like you.”

“Hmm.”

His hands raised. He traced her knuckles, causing her to pause, caressing small circles on his sternum.

“You want to tear the clothes off my body?” he breathed, not daring to see his own reflection and know his reaction to whatever her answer was.

“I do.”

He placed his left hand on hers, heart beating faster and faster.

“Not tonight though.”

He pulled her palm away from his racing heart, not wanting her to know her effect on him, letting it linger beside his ribcage.

“Tonight, I will show you all I’ve learned, because I was always a better student than you, class representative.”

He found himself laughing a little, suddenly sheepish. “Yeah. Your name was always in the top five percent. I was pretty bad at school. I don’t know why everyone voted for–oooh…”

Her fingers touched his nipples, rubbing delicately, sending strange shivers all over him, shallowing his breath, making him look up and see his dark nipples being teased by expert hands. Her nails nicked them lightly and he whined in his throat, feeling them harden against her fingertips, surprised at the arousal from the simple touch, something he never paid attention to or cared about. His hair was covering part of his face.

Jungkook reached up and pushed his hair back, pressing his chest into those hands.

Saw one of her eyes behind his head, sharp and sultry with winged liner, twinkling as she watched him.

“I voted for you because I thought it would be funny since you weren’t even trying.”

He didn’t really have a response for that, too busy looking at his own face and body, shivering as she tweaked his nipples and pushed them in slow circles, his arms descending to lower the shadows, letting them suspend by his sides.

She shifted beside him and half of her lips appeared, on the toes of her heels, whispering close to his ear, seductive and dark.

“You were good-looking then, and you’re even more handsome now, Jungkook.”

The sound of the ocean, the silver moonlight shining off her blue-black hair giving her skin a surreal quality, almost doll-like, the mirror reflecting his expression, desire and anticipation.

She removed her hands and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking it down.

He inhaled sharply and her face disappeared.

Dress shirt stripped from his body and flung away, the crisp black fabric flaring out, a shadow cast aside.

Jungkook spun around.

-

Does this man know the meaning of calm the fuck down?

You rolled your eyes inwardly as you witnessed Jungkook turn around, facing you again even though you told him not to the move. He had always been like this, overzealous, but he didn’t seem as clumsy as before, although…

He grabbed your tits.

Hah.

He blinked rapidly, surprised. “Huh?”

You shook your head and knocked his hands away, sighing. “Pasties, Jungkook. To cover my nipples.”

You reached into your dress and scooped your breasts out, trapping them between the v-neckline. His eyes bulged slightly when he saw the smooth black satin circles flush to the apex of your breasts. They fit perfectly, seamless so they were unseen even under the slinky fabric of the black gown.

“W-Whoa…”

“What? I’m a burlesque dancer. Of course, I have fancy nipple covers. This is basic wardrobe.”

He tilted his head. “I’ve never seen any like these. They look like they’re part of your body.”

You tutted. “Obviously, they aren’t. You know I have nipples.”

And you reached up and peeled them off, flinging them aside carelessly.

Jungkook gasped, staring at your nipples with wide eyes.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen nipples,” you scowled. “You better not be a virgin with how hot you’ve become.”

His hands shot up and you grabbed his wrists again, forcing them back down.

Jungkook whined, eyes shifting back up to you, begging to touch them.

You stiffened slightly. What kind of reaction was that?

“They’re so big,” he whispered huskily, visibly shuddering, shaking with the craving to touch them. “I remember they were soft. And…” His breathing hitched, trembling in your hands. “I remember they tasted so good. Amazing. No one has ever tasted as good as you.”

His eyes flickered back down, biting his lip. He tried to break free, but you held. A single glance exchanged and you let go, realizing he was going to do something other than attack them. Instead, he collected the straps of your dress and pulled them back up, slowly, moaning as the slinky black fabric skimmed over your breasts, your prominent nipples sticking out, hardening from the light friction.

“Fuck, that’s so fucking sexy.”

Well, maybe he did have some appreciation for the visual after all.

“You see why I need the pasties.”

He pulled the straps up, whimpering as he watched your nipples strain against your dress, lifting your breasts in the confines of the fabric and lowering them, lifting, lowering, repeating the gesture.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Jungkook… are you bouncing my tits on purpose?”

His dark brown orbs darted to you. Guilty.

“Um… y-you won’t let me touch them…”

You weren’t sure whether to sigh or to laugh. You just shook your head, backing up out of his grasp. His hands were still outstretched, lips forming a small pout. You almost regretted it, but his expression quickly changed as you casually flicked down the straps, freeing your breasts again, dropping his hands and linking them together under his waist, waiting, now invested in what you had in store.

Oh.

He chewed on his lip and gave you an expectant look.

A flutter in your chest.

The side of your lips curved upward, tongue sliding out to graze the edge of your upper lip before disappearing.

You reached back, leisurely undoing the fastenings of the corset, sweeping your legs so the high slit flared apart, turning around, letting him witness the slow undress. Every action was deliberate, the wide arc of your leg moving the skirt aside to prevent you from tripping as you turned without using your hands, the wide stance of your feet to relieve pressure on your heels and to prevent the dress from sliding down too soon, and even the position of your fingers, poised so you could run a nail down your spine as two of them pinched the hook-and-eye and separated them, traveling down to the top of your ass. Every movement was thought out, details that made up the bigger picture, constructing your ultimate goal.

A sensual striptease.

You caught his reaction in a mirror to your right.

His sparkling brown eyes were wide, jaw dropped.

A lot of people had seen you take off your clothes, but no one made you feel as satisfied as Jeon Jungkook, then in his school uniform and now shirtless in his slacks, hands twisting in front of his crotch.

Then you saw your face.

You were smiling.

You really did smile when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Another glimpse at his face and you found him staring at you, silver moonlight glinting off his eyebrow piercing and flooding into his eyes, bringing out the stars within.

You released your hand and your dress tumbled to the ground.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, your name drifting from his lips.

“H… Holy shit…”

You did have an amazing waist-to-ass ratio.

Proper corset training and specific hit workouts to perfect your craft contributed. You couldn’t simply be pretty. You had to be strong and flexible to do the stunts and to walk in your red bottoms for the entire performance. Christian Louboutin didn’t make his shoes to be comfy. He made heels to make feet look enticing and sexy.

The price to pay for glamour and vanity.

It did give you some powerful calves though.

You lifted one shoe, flashing that blazingly red sole of your heel, balancing on one leg for a second.

This was to prevent you from getting tangled on your now fallen dress. You tightened your core, shifting your weight, knowing it would give Jungkook an irresistible view of your plump derriere in your high French-cut black satin panties, the particular style adding illusion to the already stark proportion.

In short, your ass looked fucking fabulous.

You stepped out of your dress, one leg, then the other, taking care not to step on it, adding a little flourish of your hands to create those body lines, ever the performer. You glanced at the mirror and was pleased to find Jungkook hadn’t moved, although his hands were now firmly open, palms down on his crotch, whimpering in his throat.

“Soon,” you promised, and you would keep it.

He nodded, swallowing hard.

You turned your fingers inward, hooking each index finger on the sides of your panties, rocking your hips slowly, lowering your lashes, following the beat of the sea, tugging down the right side a few centimeters and then the left, listening to his breathing and controlling yours. You bent over slowly at the hips, sticking your ass out, listening to his low moan as your glistening slit was revealed, sliding your undergarments down your thighs and calves, placing them carefully onto the floor.

You gradually straightened, breathing out, keeping it as one smooth motion.

You stepped out of your panties.

Now you were clad in only your black patent Louboutins and black diamond choker.

This time, you found your reflection in the mirror to delicately correct your smeared red lipstick with your fingertips. Good enough. You nodded at your reflection. The corners of your mouth curved upwards.

You turned to face him, showing Jungkook your smile.

-

This smile was real.

The smile she only showed when she was with him. He didn’t know if that was a valid thought or not, but he liked to think so. Besides, no smile meant as much as this one. That he was sure of, because he had been chasing this smile for all these years before finally accepting that he would never find another one like it. It was too precious to belong to anyone else.

His smile.

If his dick wasn’t trying to rip open his pants, Jungkook might have cried seeing it for the first time.

He couldn’t speak, too afraid he was going to lose it right then and there.

She walked towards him.

No, walk wasn’t the correct word. Strode, strut, glided, fuck, he didn’t know, she just moved as fluidly as a shadow and water combined, silver moonlight glistening off her skin and her diamonds, and he knew he would never love the mere act of walking more than when he watched her move.

She stilled.

He stopped breathing.

Her foot raised, toes tracing the inside of the heel, raising the pointed toe, balancing it on the stiletto, and she flicked it backward, causing it to tumble and somersault backward, falling to its side.

Fuck.

She thought of everything.

She balanced on tiptoe and did the same to the other shoe, discarding it with a swift tick.

He made a less-than-elegant noise of her name mixed with a needy whine.

“P… Please…”

Jungkook was quite sure he was a hair’s breath away from ripping off his pants to get some relief.

She finally made her way to stand in front of him. Smile so close now, emphasized by painted lips.

Her hands closed over his, peeling them away from his crotch, holding them loosely. She leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. Deep, meaningful, nothing flashy. Drew back, still smiling.

This smile.

He wanted to protect it forever.

“I should have told you that I love you, but I didn’t know it then,” he whispered.

She chuckled.

“I know now.”

She was lowering herself as he spoke, tilting her head at him, inviting him to continue. Getting to her knees, positioning her feet right under her ass, neat and orderly. His hands dropped, leaving hers on his belt, undoing the buckle, her gaze still on him. Looking up at him with amusement, diamonds glittering on her throat, perky tits and nipples, thighs on display, kneeling in front of his crotch.

“I love you.”

Jungkook meant it, every syllable.

He never meant it more in her life.

“I know.”

What?

She casually undid his belt and slid the closure open, unzipping his slacks.

“Wait… what?” he sputtered, blinking rapidly.

“I know you love me,” she repeated calmly.

Jungkook had time for a single blink before his pants were yanked down to his knees. He started, almost falling over, but her hands came up behind his legs and gripped them, keeping him upright.

“Careful,” she purred, stroking the backs of his thighs.

He jerked his head down, hardly able to breathe, shock blossoming as she leaned forward, hot breath warming his black boxer briefs. Eyes on his face, pink tongue extending.

“O-Oh, fuuuck…”

She planted her tongue over his hardness and soaked it with saliva, wetting the fabric and tracing the outline, molding his underwear to his length, sending him into gasping shivers, heat from her tongue and then her lips closing, blowing a cool stream over it, hot and cold, sensation and deprivation, too much and not enough, placing kisses all over and he flinched with every one, savoring the feeling, the touch that was familiar and unfamiliar, everything he wanted.

“W-Wait… that’s dirty…”

“Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.”

Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.

Pants racking his torso, looking down, and it was the same but different, her lips kissing up his abs, his chest, back to his face, holding him to her, lipstick smeared and now on his skin. Open mouth to elegantly parted lips, gasping as she collected her breasts and pressed her nipples to his chest, squashing the softness to his pecs.

“Spit on my cleavage,” she breathed.

“W-What?”

She raised an eyebrow, knowing that he heard her perfectly well, squeezing her breasts together and rubbing them on his chest, sending the electric sensation of her large nipples dragging across his heartbeat, rolling her shoulders to the beat of the sea, bathed in silver moonlight.

“Spit on my tits, Jungkook.”

“I… c-couldn’t… do that to you…” he moaned, pitch hiking with pleasure.

She didn’t chide him to cover his mouth this time, instead smirking wider, licking her teeth. “Sure, you can. Do it, golden boy. Spit on me.”

She hooked a leg over his hip and grinded her crotch to his wet one, causing him to whine, knowing his cock was so close to her pussy but not yet skin to skin, the soaked fabric barrier driving him insane, his hands coming up to grip her waist and press her down on him, staring into her eyes, inhale shaky and erratic.

She smiled, teasing, sculptural, his.

“You trust me?”

Jungkook was drunk on something he didn’t understand and it was love.

“Yeah…”

He leaned forward, capturing her lips, an intense, burning kiss. She smiled into his kiss, and he knew she was aware of his nervousness, but she remained patient as she always was, pressing back daintily, taking his breath away. He broke apart, trembling.

She nodded, telling him it was okay.

He collected saliva at the tip of his tongue and looked down, spitting into her cleavage.

It shot out of his mouth, splattering over the swell of her breasts and onto his own chest. His ears burned, self-conscious at the dirty act, but she moaned deliciously, backing up, his saliva dripping down and stuck to the inside curve of her breasts. He had a moment to appreciate the image, the most beautiful woman in the world with her diamond choker and his spit on her tits glistening in the moonlight reflected by the sea.

“Wow.”

That was all he could say as the image burned into his memory.

She smirked, falling to her knees, tugging his black boxer briefs down his thighs, his stiff cock popping out, bobbing in the air at the suddenness of its release, and then trapped once more, except this time not in drenched fabric but in her soft, saliva-covered breasts – or his saliva, depending on how he thought about it – but he couldn’t think about it, abrupt pleasure shooting up his spine, throwing his head back in a moan, eyes darting everywhere, surrounded by mirrors, reflections of his face, his long black hair a wild mess, his facial features consumed by wanton lust, his throbbing cock jammed between her breasts and her body sliding up and down, her large nipples rubbing against his crotch and thighs, oh, fuck, the sensation insane, soft and rough and wet, her perfectly pinned hair leaving only the curls at the ends bouncing from her effort.

She spit down his length, adding to the lubrication and her name burst out of his mouth in an erratic groan.

“F-Fuck…!”

She pushed his cock up, almost uncomfortable, but then her mouth closed around the tip, tongue swirling, and he was lost again, ecstasy as she switched to blowing him, pressing her breasts to his thighs, smearing the saliva on them too, covering his cock in red lipstick, soaking every centimeter with saliva, running her tongue over the veins and the head, his hands clenching into fists, close, so close, and then she popped her mouth off, leaving him near tears and in whines.

“P-Please, let me cum, please…”

“I want you to cum on my necklace,” she panted, planting his cock in her cleavage again, lacing her fingers over it, pressing the head down into the slick skin, shock of her words and the escalating pleasure, his chin lowering and staring down at glittering black diamonds and the engorged tip of his length popping in and out of her breasts.

“You want me to… cum on your necklace…?” he echoed hollowly, in utter disbelief.

“Fuck yes, I do,” she grinned, tip of her tongue flickering at the edge of her lips. “Cum on my diamonds, Jungkook.”

Well, fuck.

This was the worst surreal and hottest moment of his life.

He clenched his jaw and thrust his hips into her chest, adding to the stimulation, chasing it, seeing her grin grow, devilish and devious, squeezing him tighter, faster, faster, faster, his hands and his body shaking, gripped by pleasure and her hold, panting her name over and over, his prayer, his drug, his lifeline, trying to hold out, the line inside him pulled taut, thinner and thinner, snapping.

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

His hips jolted and he forced them upward, her head tipping back as the thick red tip popped out, twitching and splattering thick streams of white, painting the black diamonds with his white orgasm, clinging to the jewels and her collarbones, dripping down, covering her with his strong and masculine scent. She lifted her body, trapping his jolting cock in her breasts, and he moaned helplessly, rutting against her skin, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins, uncontrollable flinching and shuddering as more dribbled out, milked out by the tightness.

“Oooooooh, f-fuck… fuck, I’m s-so sorry…” he gasped out, wincing at the mess he made.

“Ah, shut up, Jungkook.”

In awe, he watched her back up slightly, strings of his orgasm all over her breasts, chest, and diamonds.

She smiled and dipped her fingers in it, coating them with his cum and bringing them to her smeared red lips, licking them off one by one, pink tongue slipping between her elegant digits, moaning as she drank up his taste.

Eyes on his, drunk on him.

-

time left: --:--

Kim Namjoon leaned against Kim Seokjin’s shoulder, listening to the other man’s deep breathing.

They were sitting on the plush green couch in Kim Taehyung’s room.

The night was quiet, nothing but the sound of the waves coming through the open window, a light breeze as Namjoon watched the moon reflect off the ocean. Seokjin had already fallen asleep, head resting against the back of the sofa, tired from the day’s events and needing the rest. Namjoon felt the drowsiness beginning to weigh on him too, using Seokjin’s wide shoulder as his headrest. He had opened the window to prevent the room from getting too stuffy.

It would have been more comfortable to be in that giant bed with the one he was paid to protect, but he hoped she was in good hands now.

He smiled to himself, watching the silver moonlight dance off the choppy waters.

His mind went back to those moments, moments when he had to hold her shoulders and remind her of who and where she was, moments when he sat and waited as she clenched her teeth and a skilled medical tattoo artist filled in those white scars all over her hands, moments of when she finally sat him and Seokjin down and told them why she sometimes woke up at night, screaming and crying, yelling the names of past demons.

She had told them she was sorry, sorry for being weak, sorry for not taking responsibility.

Seokjin had scoffed, smacking her lightly on the head. “Are you an idiot? You have been through enough. Stop it with that nonsense. It’s part of our job, so let us do our job.”

After that, Namjoon would make it a point to check up on her at night, reaching over to soothe her brow as she slept, relaxing her face with gentle touches. He wanted to be there in case she woke up from a nightmare, and it became a habit, until Seokjin too elbowed himself in the bed, muttering that she always got the best digs anyway, so why shouldn’t he? He was handsome enough, after all.

They only accompanied her to events or appearances.

It bothered Namjoon to think that sometimes she was alone in her own home, waking up screaming and crying, and that he couldn’t be there.

He wondered what would come of this.

Jeon Jungkook.

Did he know that if he broke her heart that two ‘big-scary-dudes-with-massive-shoulders’ were going to find his ass and rearrange it?

Hm.

Namjoon closed his eyes, letting the night take him under its wing.

-

time left: error

The black diamond choker was on the vanity, covered in Jungkook’s cum.

Both of your clothes were on the floor, shoes, pants, dress, undergarments, strewn all over, a mess, along with a now cold, wet, white bath towel that smelled like semen and saliva. It had what was left of your red lipstick on it.

One of the designer cosmetic bags was open.

There were condoms scattered on the bed now, thrown over the red silk sheets.

Jungkook was holding your hands, palms up, tenderly kissing them.

It felt strange, his soft lips on your scars.

Most people didn’t realize it. It wasn’t something they looked for or thought to think twice about, because to them, your hands had always been like that. It would be rude to comment or mention it even if they had noticed.

But Jungkook had known your hands before they became like this.

“It’s why I stopped going to school.”

He kissed the pads of your fingertips, looking at you with those dark brown orbs.

“Did something bad happen?”

You smiled, somewhere between sad and apologetic.

“I wanted to make sure that I could still see you, but unfortunately I ended up doing the exact opposite.”

He squeezed your hands tightly, giving you his own smile. “Still, you came back to me.”

You chuckled ruefully. “Not with the best intentions.”

The silver moonlight highlighted all your favorite features, the cupid’s bow of his lips, the tiny mole underneath, the wrinkle of his nose with his smile, the stars in his eyes.

“You’ve always been dangerous and ill-advised for me, but I always liked that about you.”

You arched a brow. “Hm, you were a shitty class representative, huh?”

Jungkook shrugged. “You weren’t really a class delinquent either.”

You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. “Look at you. What kind of class presentative gets all these tattoos?” you teased, dancing your fingers up his right forearm and elbow, tracing the outlines of the script and graphics, following the swirls of the clouds and flower petals with your nails, listening to his shallow breath at your touch. “And an eyebrow piercing? Are you trying to tell everyone you’re one of the cool kids now?”

His lips twisted into a small frown. “Am I cool?”

You shrugged. “Every time I hear about the cool kids in our grade, it’s just about how they got knocked up too early or how they dropped out of university, so you tell me.”

“I haven’t gotten knocked up.”

You gave him a look, bordering on impatience.

“Wait, I mean–”

You raised a hand and planted it on his chest, pushing him down on the bed.

“Enough. Stop talking, please.”

You crawled over his body, placing your hands by his head, looking down at him. Jungkook stared up at you, long black hair splayed over the pillows. He was definitely a man now, sharp jawline, manicured brows, slight dark circles from long nights, and, as you leaned down, expensive cologne now, still light and clean but with a twist of sharpness and sweet fruit, still with the same warmth. Your lips pressed against his jaw, leaving kisses, sinking your weight onto him, skin to skin, his gasps under you, and now it seemed like you were back in that time, his teenage self and your teenage self, the same eagerness as his arms surrounded you, running his hands down your back, but now he added his nails, making you hum in approval. He did it more, scratching his nails over your spine as you kissed his jaw, his throat, his ear, jingling his earrings with your tongue, whispering against his skin.

“No one has ever been what you are to me.”

You didn’t bother using past tense, because it wasn’t.

You sat down on his thigh, his semi-hard cock twitching against your skin, turned on by your kisses and your tongue toying with his ear.

“You weren’t even very good, you know. You were kinda shit. Too impatient.”

He shuddered, tensing his forearms against your sides.

“I’m b-better now…” he whimpered, turning into a moan as you bit his ear and rubbed your wetness on his thigh, painting it with your juices. You kept it slow, leisurely, with even pressure.

“Still…”

You lifted your head, bringing your fingers inward, slipping them into his hair, pushing it back, caressing his temple with your thumbs.

“I have loved you all this time, Jungkook, even back then when I didn’t know what love was, when I was only chasing a feeling that was different from all the others.”

His eyes widened, stunned by your words.

“Ah, nevertheless, I came back too late.”

“No.”

His hands on your back, holding you tightly to him.

“I want to kiss you all the time,” he whispered, words from long ago, bringing them back. “And I will.”

He raised his forehead and touched yours.

“I know it’s not fair, I know it’s bad, I know it’s terrible, but I’ll be fucked up if you can’t be right here, with me.”

His lips to yours, small kisses and closed eyes, hiding his tears behind his lashes.

“You are the happiness, and if you continue to love me, I will never let you go.”

That’s what Jungkook said, but the sentiment was slightly interrupted by his cock being so hard that it was actually raising your thigh up into the air.

You smiled against his lips, chuckling.

“I guess I’ll bring a towel when you get her cocktail splashed into your face.”

“Maybe two. She has a lot of internet friends.”

“Hm.”

You lifted your head, smirking.

“Well, I can’t say it would be the first relationship I’ve ruined, although those were far more indirect.”

-

Jungkook tried to make the moment romantic, but her naked body was on top of him with her wet pussy rubbing on his thigh and his dick was coming back to life right in the middle of his speech.

Still, he couldn’t really complain, because at the moment he was ripping open a condom, on his knees between her legs, rolling it down, eyes roaming over her body lines, poised and elegant and sexy, her hair flared out on the pillows, still neatly pinned up, some kind of sorcery, but that didn’t surprise Jungkook, for she had always had her spell on him and he was better for it.

“You want missionary?” she teased.

He bit his lip, nodding.

“I want to watch your face.”

Her tongue flickered out on the edge of her upper lip, accenting the high point of her smirk.

“Good, then I can watch yours.”

He positioned himself in front of her, pausing for a second, unsure now, but she simply grinned and reached between her legs, one hand on his length and the other on his hip, digging her nails into his ass and shoving him inside her.

“Oh, fuck!”

She seemed highly amused, but he was gone, sudden tightness and wetness enveloping him, pitching forward and catching himself on his palms, sinking into red silk, the intensity bursting from his core and washing over him, shuddering and gasping as she gripped his ass with both hands and sank him down into her pussy, down, down, drowning in the feeling, diving into the depths of pleasure, fuck, he felt it everywhere, her walls clenching and wrapped around his length, the sensitive head rubbing against the ridges, and the emotions that rushed through him as he looked into her eyes, a little humiliated that it affected him so much, a little shocked at how good it felt even with the condom, and a lot of lust and trust and love, all rolling into one, and she purred his name, smooth and silky and gentle, and he couldn’t help himself, slowly rolling his hips and smacking down hard, burying himself to the base, eyelids fluttering, feeling it radiate over his body.

“Too... hard?” he choked out, trying to be considerate, desperate not to fuck up.

She shook her head, snickering.

“Not even close.”

“How can I–?”

But she didn’t let him finish, tapping the mandala flower tattoo on his right elbow and he raised his arms, at loss for words and breath when she raised her legs to his shoulders and tugged his forearms back down, his hands landing on the bed once more.

Oh no.

This was tighter.

“Fuck me, Jungkook, and make it rough.”

I can’t talk or I will blow my load in two seconds.

He nodded, tensing his jaw, and smacked his crotch down, her thighs smacking against his chest.

Oh, fuck me.

He wished he could sound less desperate and less ruined, but he simply didn’t have the capacity for that any longer, tumbling into a series of wild moans as he built up the pace, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into him, too much sensation, soft thighs, wet tightness squeezing his throbbing length, her hands on his upper arms, holding on tightly, his name falling from her mouth along with her erotic exhale. He loved every sound she made, every single one, her moan, her hiss, her growl, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, that’s it, give it to me, Jungkook, loved the way she looked at him, a mixture of bliss and slyness, loved the sound their bodies made, a harsh rhythmic smack, louder and louder, messing up the sheets, her head tipping back, eyes closing, fuck, yes, gonna cum if you keep going like that, so he did, hard, firm, powerful slaps of skin-to-skin, feeling so good but holding himself back, biting his lip hard and moaning in his throat, not willing to orgasm until he made her do so, at least twice.

Jungkook was being ridiculous, he knew, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost it too soon during his first time inside her.

“Mmm, fuck, Jungkook, fuck!”

A sharp throb and then a cascading effect, brutal massages of his length, and he didn’t even realize it, pausing for a second from the strength of her orgasm, his cock clenched all over and squeezed, shocking pleasure that made his eyes roll back, struggling with every fiber of his being to not explode, edging himself by ceasing his thrust, and then he drew back and rammed back into her, clawing up the sheets to press her further down into the bed, nearly bending her in half, but she didn’t seem to mind, gripping his arms and raising her hips to meet him, deeper now, the head being constricted even tighter by this changed angle, him sucking in a deep inhale, smelling blackberry, evergreen, and sex, the sweet smell of her pussy, reminding him of sitting on the bus on his way home and catching that scent on his hands and clothes, not regretting it, loving her mark on him.

It was better now.

Better because he was actually in her pussy.

And better because her teeth caught the side of her lower lip, a second of lost control, lashes lowering, moan in her mouth, his name, his name, his name leaking from her lips.

“Oh, Jungkook…”

He would never tire of it.

Never.

It burst again, a lewd squelch, and the insides of his thighs were soaked with viscous honey, clinging to his balls, violent throbs around his jerking length and Jungkook was gone, gone, everything accumulating at the peak and shattering down, his deep moan flooding the room, shooting his orgasm into the condom as his quivering cock was clenched all around, unbearable euphoria that he welcomed, letting it consume every nerve and vibrate through him, a feeling he never wanted to end.

He let it swallow him, her ocean, her moonlight, her night, and he promised himself that he would never leave.

-

All in all, Jeon Jungkook hadn’t changed much. That was alright. It was clear that you both had unfinished business in the past that was being hashed out right now.

Through sex, because how else?

He was behind you, both of you kneeling on the bed, his breath on your skin, murmuring your name, wonderment and desire, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulders and neck.

“You can bite me, you know.”

He nipped at your skin experimentally. You pinched his finger on your upper arm, the little sheepish emoji on his middle right. He squeaked and bit harder. You hummed approvingly, lowering your hand.

“You’re turning me into a crazy person,” Jungkook mumbled to the curve of your neck.

“You were already a crazy person. You just pretend you’re not.”

“That’s not true…”

You gently peeled his right hand from your arm and yanked him forward. He inhaled sharply, hard chest hitting your back as you tugged his arm forward, curving it around you.

“What non-crazy person blacks out the inner part of their elbow and tattoos the bone on the outer part as well?” you accused, rubbing his muscular forearm against your nipples, smirking at his moan, his shiver traveling through your back and to the sparks of pleasure radiating from your breasts at the lovely friction.

“Um…”

That was as far as he gave you as an answer because he had no good answers.

“Mhm.”

His hand curved around your left breast and he ran his fingers over it, tugging at your nipple. You leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Well, maybe you had been a bit harsh. He had changed. Less clumsy now, attaining his own irresistible sensuality that he probably wasn’t even aware of, considering the wavering in his tone.

“You’ve probably had better than me, huh…”

“You would be surprised at the complete inadequacy of the human race when it comes to sex, Jungkook. Most people don’t give two shits about listening to their partner’s wants.”

He pinched your nipple and you moaned, rubbing your ass against his crotch.

“You always do everything I want and even things I didn’t even know I wanted,” he mumbled.

His cock was getting the hint with every rock of your hips, rousing at the soft friction. You listened to his rapid breathing, amused, the amusement turning into fond irritation as you felt his free hand slide between your bodies, tucking his hardening length between your ass cheeks, now slowly and non-discreetly humping you.

Well.

Can’t say you were surprised.

“You’re not that hard to read, Jungkook.”

He was leaking all over the top of your ass, ramming the head into your tailbone, now both hands on your chest, forgetting to answer, too absorbed in touching you, tugging at your nipples in time with his rocking hips, lips back to your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving marks. There was power in his hold, passion and desperation, a needy whine vibrating in his throat, faster, harder, pinching your nipples and rubbing the tips, pulling slightly, pleasure from his lips and his hands, your own reaching back and clawing at the small of his back, leaving scratches, yes, please, harder, mark me, make me yours, and you chuckled at his declaration, you were always mine, Jungkook, and he moaned your name in affirmation, licking up your neck, hot shaking breath ghosting your ear.

“Wanna fuck you from behind.”

You sunk your nails into his skin and brought your fingers outward, flicking your wrists to leave sharp lines of lust, his moan in your wake.

“Do it,” you drawled, voice saturated with need.

He pushed you down and your caught yourself with your hands, clutching fistfuls of red silk. You heard the rip of another condom and his groan as he encased his aching length, one hand on your ass, and you spread your legs, his knees fitting between them, the head grazing your wet opening and he slid in with a shudder, filling you up and stretching you out, a little pain that dissipated as he squeezed your ass with two hands, sighing with satisfaction with you.

“I know I said I want to kiss you all the time, and I do,” he panted, stalling.

You smiled, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Jungkook looked back at you and he reached forward, driving deeper into you, making you mewl for him. He plucked the pins from your hair, one by one, undoing the perfection, tossing them aside as he spoke, shrouding your shoulders and face with cool-toned black, surreal and glamorous.

“But I think I’ve decided I also want to fuck you all the time.”

You smirked. “You don’t take much convincing, I must say.”

He eased the last pin from your hair and flicked it aside.

You heard it fall to the floor.

That one wouldn’t be found in the morning.

He grinned. “Maybe I already knew you would be amazing.”

Instead of replying, you leaned forward and then smacked your ass back into his crotch.

Jungkook reeled, hand flying back to your hip, grabbing it tightly as you roughly pushed back into him, his natural response being to thrust forward, compounding the pleasure for you and for him, looking forward again and tipping your head back, letting go, moaning for him, his hardness twitching with your sound, loud and getting louder, bodies tangled, bed creaking, clutching your ass for dear life. You lifted one hand and brought beside your hip and Jungkook gripped your forearm, your body naturally dropping lower, deepening each thrust, and that was it, the uncontrollable need resonating in his deep voice, forcefully pounding you into the mattress, thighs, crotch, balls slapping into your lower half, carnal and wild and visceral, his name and your name mixing together, filling the room with the sight, sound, and smell of sex, so strong, fuck, he was so fucking strong, and so were you, a shock every time your bodies connected, until you were wailing with the ferocity of orgasm, squirming and clutching his forearm as he held yours, clenching around his length, but this time he didn’t stop, fucking you through it, gasping for air.

“Oh fuck, yes, fuck, do it again, cum for me again, fuck, feels so fucking good, feels like you’re choking my cock…”

And he brought it out of you again, your right hand punched into the sheets, your left in his hold, moaning for him, Jungkook, fuck, Jungkook, for him then, him now, him forever, ecstasy and elation, hitting a high you thought didn’t even exist, lust and trust and love, raising your torso and slamming your palm onto the headboard, rattling the whole damn bed.

“Fuck!”

Slamming back onto his cock and squeezing hard, Jungkook gasping at the suddenness of the harsh throbs around his length, jolting inside you and spilling another into the condom, your head whipping to the side, spotting a mirror and there he was, head thrown back, long black hair touching his shoulders, open mouth, eyes rolled back, chest shuddering, your name a shaky moan, holding you tight, his right arm travelling, wrapping around you and lifting you up, and then it was you in the mirror, your body against his, skin to skin, his dark brown orbs shifting down, feeling your eyes on him, and then he was watching your reflections, seeing your joined bodies, panting in unison, both sweaty and spent.

You smiled at him, lit up by moonlight and mirrors.

He smiled back.

And then his hand was on your chin and he turned your head to face him, tilting his head and kissing your smile, seeing it not its reflection but the real thing, no longer only when you thought he wasn’t looking.

-

time left: 00:00

“Oi.”

Jungkook didn’t recognize that voice at all. He concluded must still be dreaming.

A finger podded his temple.

“Oi!”

He started, but the arms encircling him pinned him in place, not letting him and his naked body leave the bed. Softness pressed against his back, bare nipples rubbing against his skin. He froze.

His dick was rock-hard.

A black-haired man in a black suit with a disturbingly handsome face was glaring at him.

“You animals made a fucking mess.”

“Go away, Seokjin.”

Jungkook squeaked, unable to talk because one of the hands holding him was dancing downwards under the covers, wrapping around his impossibly stiff length. He prayed it wouldn’t start moving up and down, but it did. Slowly. Not enough, but still too much, because he didn’t really want to get jacked off first thing in the morning while someone was very clearly assessing whether or not to cause extreme bodily harm to him.

Well, he did want to get jacked off first thing in the morning.

It was the bodily harm he was less enthused about.

The man named Seokjin squinted at him and it took every fiber of Jungkook’s being to not make a goddamn peep as her fingers ghosted the head, smearing slick pre-cum over the slit.

“I want to take a shower.”

“Then go take a shower. I left towels for you,” she mumbled behind Jungkook’s back.

“Namjoon’s in the shower right now.”

“Then order us some breakfast.”

“I sent Taehyung to do that. Also, it’s noon.”

“Couldn’t you order room service?”

Seokjin shrugged and Jungkook realized his shoulders were huge. “He said he had a friend who worked in the kitchen and was going to reserve us a table.”

She raised her head, resting her chin on Jungkook’s right shoulder and pulsing his cock with her right hand under the sheets. “Taehyung has a lot of friends, doesn’t he?”

Seokjin looked at Jungkook pointedly.

“Er… yeah. T-Tons…”

Those brown eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Jungkook suspiciously. “He seems like a dork.”

“I like dorks. That’s why I keep you around.”

Seokjin stuck his tongue out childishly and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Namjoon!”

“I’m done!”

“Finally,” Seokjin grumbled, walking off and yanking the bathroom door open, barging in unceremoniously.

“Gah!”

“Gah!!!”

-

“Oh, fuck, please, d-don’t…”

“It’ll only take me a second.”

You dove under the covers and Jungkook clapped his hands over his mouth, your grip on his twitching length moving fast and tight, rubbing your tongue on the hot head, and you were right, it only took a few seconds, and then Jungkook was hissing through his fingers, now, fuck, now, and your mouth swallowed his cock, not a moment too soon as thick spurts of his orgasm shot into your throat, coating the back of your tongue, savoring his smell and his thighs under your breasts, rubbing your nipples on the muscle.

“N-No, stop, stop,” Jungkook whimpered desperately, grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up, your head popping out, smirk on your lips.

You opened your mouth and showed him your tongue covered in his cum.

“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me…”

He hurriedly nudged your chin and you closed it, grinning.

Dangerous.

Ill-advised.

Jungkook grinned back at you helplessly, holding your smiling face in his hands.

---

some time later

“I have two towels.”

“She didn’t throw her drink at me.”

“Damn. I even seduced the bartender a little bit to get those plush cotton ones.”

“She asked if she could keep the ring so she could sell it and give the money to her secret, less good-looking boyfriend so he could buy her a new ring.”

“Oh. Wait, what?”

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “I said sure, because it wasn’t like the love of my life couldn’t afford her own diamonds.”

“Ah, true, true.”

“I might be slandered for a little while on the internet.”

“Nah, you won’t. Maybe for like, six hours. Then everyone’s attention span will be somewhere else. Also, your taste upgraded in their eyes, from social media influencer to burlesque dancer.”

You grinned, raising your hands to create a finger frame of your index fingers and thumbs, enclosing the handsome face of Jeon Jungkook, long black hair, silver brow piercing, dark sculpted eyebrows, big brown eyes, defined jawline, shapely pink lips, mole of his nose and cheek, and finally that perfect mole underneath his lower lip, appearing as he smiled at you, confused at what you were doing.

“Even though we all know you’re just a hopeless sucker for the class delinquent. Tsk tsk.”

His grin grew mischievous, walking over to you as you lowered your hands.

“Well, I was a shit class representative anyway.”

He leaned down to kiss you, smile to smile.

Twelve hours.

Sunset to night.

-

fin.

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you