#it's crazy overanalyzing hours

[tatsumipy]

sparkling rlly is that dedicated to his job in order to pick up that fast onto people's little mannerisms and how they act towards the drinks he make...it seems that choco ball didn't communicate directly with him that he didn't like them and maybe that sparkling just picked up on it cuz he said he doest like fizzy drinks" and choco balls say "i hope he hasn't noticed i don't like the fizzy drinks..."

#im crazy. im not supposed to be overanalyzing this. i only slept a few hours #ill open ovenbreak

[toxicanonymity]

beach walks - prequel.

3.8k surf instructor!Billy x f!reader, night walks AU

WARNINGS: I8+, situationship angst over Joel, infidelity adjacent, forced proximity, smut (mild dubcon?), in public, voyeurism, jealousy. See Billy in action (sex): hot ❤️‍🔥 gif set by @ilovewhiteroses or this video. Skeleton Twins (2014) Feel free to skip this fic if it bothers you.

✨NEXT FIC: Beach Walks

After your late night “swim,” you’re disappointed when Joel doesn’t try to get you into his basement. But he does kiss you goodnight before you walk home. You almost text him and invite him over, but something holds you back. You don't want to mess up the dynamic and scare him away. Maybe he’ll let himself in and get in bed with you. It takes you a while to get to sleep as you realize something has shifted. You're now craving more than his dick and his way with words. You’d be happy to fall asleep in his arms, with or without the morning wood to look forward to.

After this realization, you start overanalyzing things, debating whether and when to text him, reading into how often he texts you and what he says. After a few days of nothing but a dick pic, it feels like it's been weeks. And yet, this was normal before. One night, you break down and send him a pic of a freshly rolled joint with the text, “wanna join?” 

He replies “wish I could, gotta be somewhere early 😫.” 

After that, he seems to text you less and less. He doesn't initiate and barely texts back. You wonder if he’s bored without the chase, so you try to play it cool. You go for walks by yourself, in case he’ll come out and join you, but weeks go by, and he never does. Some nights you hear the weights clanging in his basement, so he must be fine.  

-

One day, you're outside, locking the basement side door, when an unfamiliar Mercedes Benz SUV pulls out of Joel's cul-de-sac. There's a speed bump just before your house, so it has to slow down, and you can  clearly see a woman is driving, and Joel is in the passenger seat. Your stomach drops. He looks more put together, like he spruced himself up for her. She’s pretty. Somewhere between your age and his. 

The keys are shaking in your hand as you unlock the door again. You go back inside with your heart racing. Don't text him again, you tell yourself. Don't do it. But after an hour, you do. You ask what he's up to, and he doesn't answer. He doesn't answer all day, and when he finally answers that evening, he acts totally casual, like nothing is up. Small talk. He doesn’t invite you over. Not so much as a dick pic. You leave your door unlocked and cry yourself to sleep. You judge yourself for caring so much. 

You keep leaving your door unlocked at night, but he doesn't come. Then, one day, he drives by in the same SUV, with the same woman, and you're not sure you've ever seen him so happy. You’re lightheaded. It's a harsh reality check. You’ve never been exclusive, never had a talk. He'd never even taken you on a date. When you think about that, it makes you sick. Is his wife still in the picture? You decide not to text him again. 

You’ve been invited on a beach trip that starts the next day, but you don’t go. You don't have the energy to pack, and part of you is still hoping Joel will just show up at your door one day. But the next few nights, when you walk by his house, all the lights are off. At first, you drive yourself crazy thinking about where he could be, but does it really matter? Your anxiety starts to fade into sadness.

You’ve got to get your mind off it, so you drive solo to catch up with your friends at the beach. 

******

The resort is humble but sprawling. There are kayaks and surf lessons. You're tempted by the kayaks, but on the first day, you just relax on the beach. As soon as you lay out your towel, your friends tell you about the hot surf instructor. Then, later that day, they swear he's checking you out. You catch a glimpse from behind first, and he has a nice back. 

You see the surf instructor at breakfast the next morning, and he smiles at you. It’s a devastating smile that erases all your thoughts for a second. You can’t even look right at him. You look behind yourself, and it couldn't be anyone else he was looking at. He laughs silently, then gets in line next to you. He looks at the eggs on your plate. 

You’re not expecting his Australian accent. “Sunny side up. . .good to know.” It takes you a second, then your chest flutters when it hits you. “Enjoy,” he adds with a wink, then walks away. He moves like he has no worries and nowhere to be.

When you tell your friends, they lose their minds. All day they’re talking about what you could do, and speculating about his dick, and whether he’s that chill in the bedroom, too. They think he’s probably a freak. A few hours later, you realize you’ve barely thought about Joel all day, for the first time in weeks, and it feels good. You begin to think maybe a vacation fling could help you move on. Assuming that’s what you’re supposed to do.

Later that day, you're in the lobby waiting for a friend when the surf instructor comes in from the beach. You play it cool, but he sees you, stops, and takes off his shades. He approaches, and you get your first really good look at him up close. He's tall, tan, and shredded, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s got small ear gauges, and a tattoo of something with tentacles winding up his neck. He's chewing gum. 

A mischievous sparkle plays on his eyes as he spreads his feet and crosses his arms. "Saw ya layin’ out, nice ‘n’ dry. . .thought I should let ya know, the real fun’s in the water." 

“Oh yeah?”

He nods. "Love to get ya on a board, if ya don't surf already." 

You laugh. "No, I don't."

He checks you out, then asks, “How ‘bout it?” and waits patiently for your yes. 

"Maybe," you crack a smile. 

"No charge. . .Name's Billy." He extends his hand. As you shake hands, he leans in closer, lowers his voice, and says, "’Lot funner gettin’ wet." As he steps away, he offers, "Come down around five, yeah?" Your tummy is swarming with butterflies as he walks off, and it must be evident. Your friend immediately assumes he asked you out.

—

You go down to the shore at five to meet Billy. Storm clouds are rolling in. Billy is looking at the sky and idly spinning a whistle on a string. He has two boards laid out. As you approach, he looks at his watch. “Punctual, aren't ya?” 

First, he teaches you how to hop up on the board, something you weren’t even sure you could do. Then he demonstrates the right stance, and you can't help but notice the way his thigh muscles swell out from his swim trunks. The teal swim trunks are a little on the shorter side, which is only emphasized by the black, long-sleeve rash guard he’s wearing. Your gaze is dangerously close to his crotch when you pull your eyes back up to his face. 

He looks at your stance, and asks, “Mind if I touch ya?”

“Please,” you answer without thinking.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head playfully. “Knew ya were a bad girl.” 

“I mean,” your face heats up with a smile, and he raises his eyebrows. “I mean I need all the help I can get.”  He indulges you with a contemplative nod. 

“Sure, love.” He comes around to stand next to you. Thunder begins to rumble, and he glances at the sky. 

He crouches down, and one foot at a time, you let him adjust your position on the board. As he begins to stand, he looks up at you and his hand skims up the back of your calf, breaking away at the knee.

He steps a little closer and gently presses on the small of your back. “There ya go.” Then he gets behind you and leans forward, curving his body with yours. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls them back. He’s so close you can feel his body heat. His hands slide up your sides, hitching briefly on the bottom string of your swim top. Then he slots his hands under your arms and adjusts your posture. “Good girl,” he murmurs, then there's a loud boom of thunder. Rain begins to dot the sand before you feel it on your skin. “It’ll blow over,” he reassures you.

-

To wait out the storm, Billy invites you into the surf shack, up past the dunes. He leaves the door open. He doesn’t turn a light on, but there are a few windows. It’s only one room. It's got surfboards, lifeguard stuff, an old TV with a DVD/VCR combo, and a loveseat. In front of the loveseat, there’s a coffee table with a bong on it. Almost as soon as he walks in, he’s taking off his long sleeves. 

“Gets muggy in here quick,” he warns as he plops down on the loveseat. He pats the space next to him, and you sit down. “Suppose we could watch a movie,” he muses and picks up two remote controls from the coffee table. He puts on Jaws at low volume so you can still listen to the storm. He offers the bong, but you decline.

He faces you, resting his head in his hand, with his elbow on the back of the loveseat. You mirror his posture, and he shamelessly checks you out, once again. 

You make small talk about the weather and the resort. With his free hand, he idly strokes his own sternum, slowly dragging his middle finger up and down between his pecs. His nipples are pierced – the bars are so subtle you couldn’t tell through his top.  

After a lull in the conversation, you adjust your position to face the tv. He stretches his arm across the back of the loveseat, and his hand is right behind your head. He begins to lightly caress the nape of your neck with his thumb. You don’t flinch or pull away. You chew your bottom lip, and your heart races. His eyes are glued to your body, and you’re barely pretending to watch the movie. 

“So,” he asks, “Could ya feel me starin’ at your arse yesterday?”

You laugh. “No.” 

“Well, I was,” he nods. “When ya were layin’ out.”

Finally you look at him, and when your eyes meet, he begins to let his fingers slowly dance on your thigh, sending a rush of desire to your loins. 

You’re suddenly nervous. You don't remember how to do this. You half heartedly begin to say, “Maybe I should. . .”

“Come a little closer?”  A loud clap of thunder shakes the whole shack. “Nowhere for us to go now, is there?”

He glances at the window where the sky has darkened and heavy rain is coating the glass. His voice drops.  “Kinda like this storm, if I’m honest,” he admits. 

“Yeah,” you quietly agree. 

His thumb separates from the back of your neck, then your halter string tightens for a moment before completely loosening. 

“Oops,” he whispers, looking at you. 

You gasp and your hand comes to your chest to hold the top up as you turn toward him again, bringing your knee up on the cushion. Your face burns and you laugh his name in mock admonishment. 

 "Got a boyfriend?” He asks. “Girlfriend?" 

"No," you shake your head. 

"Wouldn't stop me, anyway.” His hand curves lightly around your inner thigh, stroking your warm skin. His caress gets higher and higher, further toward your throbbing core. “Not if ya want it, love. What kinda feminist would I be then?” He tilts his head and slides his hand all the way up to the crotch of your swimsuit. “Nah, what she wants, she gets,” he murmurs, staring at his hand between your legs. A knuckle nudges the crotch of your swimsuit, and you’re gushing for him. One corner of his mouth twitches knowingly as he meets your eyes again. “And I think ya want it.” God, he’s hot. He’s so hot, and so right.

The hand behind you cradles your head, and his gaze falls on your lips. His blue eyes are dark with lust. He leans in, pauses with his lips about two inches from yours. You close the gap yourself, accepting the embrace of his smooth lips on yours. Soon he tilts his head, and his tongue slides into your mouth. You drop your hand from your chest, and the un-tied strings still dangling on your back precariously hold your top up. As the kiss becomes hungrier, his hand slides easily into one side of your loosened bikini. His fingers bracket your nipple as he caresses your breast then cups with a soft, “mmm,” into your mouth. You’re absolutely throbbing. 

There's a clattering outside, then an unfamiliar voice. "We've got someone out in the surf, down toward the pier."

Your eyes fly to the door, embarrassed, but the man doesn't even look at you. You quickly re-tie your swimsuit. Billy adjusts himself and replies, “Alright mate, let's hop on the jetski.” 

“It’s ready.” The man steps outside to wait. 

When Billy stands up, you see a massive protrusion in his shorts, resting against his upper thigh, and your breath hitches. You accidentally stare, and he smirks when he notices. “Yeah?” he asks with a downward glance. He holds his hand out and you give him yours as you stand up. He puts your hand on the bulge in his shorts. It’s stiff and warm and makes you ache to be filled. “All for you, love.” He drops your hand but it stays there for a split second. 

He pulls his rashguard on and adjusts his shorts, then gives you a short but heated kiss. “Find ya later.” 

—----

When the storm dies down enough, you run up the beach, arms squeezed together in front of you. You grab a towel from the hut by the pool and enter the lobby. A man has just left the vending area, and you do a double-take when you see a bag of takis in his hand, but he's already walking away.  Your heart jumps when you see he's wearing pj pants. But it couldn't possibly be Joel. Not this far from home. 

You brush it off, but for the rest of the day, you can't get Joel out of your mind, except for when you let your thoughts drift to being in that shack with Billy. It's gotten worse than you thought if you're thinking Joel is there on the island based on a bag of chips and someone dressing comfortably on vacation. 

You let yourself imagine what it would be like to let Billy fuck you. Maybe you need this. 

You're restless and don't have any privacy to get off. After dark, you go out to the pool, and quietly slip into the water, ignoring the sign that says “closed.”.

The water is about nipple-height where you are. You face the pool and rest your arms on the side, letting your legs float in front of you. You close your eyes and squeeze your thighs together thinking about what might have happened in that shack if you weren’t interrupted earlier. And just when you’re picturing what Billy looks and sounds like when he comes, you hear his voice. 

"Pool's closed, rulebreaker."

You look toward his voice, and he puts down a bag near your towel. You ask, "Gonna tell on me?"  

He takes off his rash guard and stretches, jutting his chest and pelvis forward with his hands clasped behind his back, then he walks over and dives in the deep end. He swims underwater and comes up for air a few feet from you. When he surfaces, he tousles his hair.

He slowly approaches, wetting his lips. He looks even sexier in the dark. "Where were we, love," he murmurs. His hands start at your floating feet–he spreads them apart, making room for himself between your legs. Then his hands slide all the way up your legs as he gets closer. He pulls you against him and you loosely wrap your legs around him. 

"There ya go," he murmurs, then dips his head and cradles yours. He kisses you long and hard. He pushes his hips forward, pinning you against the pool wall, and his cock stiffens against you. Then he pulls you off the wall and holds you by the ass so his arousal is firmly pressing against your tingling front. You wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks lower into the water. He kisses and sucks your neck, just above the waterline. He’s probably leaving a mark, and you don’t care. You don’t really care about anything but the mutual throbbing between your legs at the moment.

—

You feel someone watching, and when Billy goes after your neck again, you scan the balconies until you see a dark figure sitting on a second floor balcony. You look for a few seconds and can't make out anything. You scold yourself for thinking about Joel and wrap your legs tighter around Billy. His cock swells harder against your clit, and your thoughts are gone again. You moan softly as he grinds you on himself and kisses you needily, from your lips to your neck, your throat, under your chin, back to your lips. Billy pulls your top down enough to feel your nipples against his chest and lets out a sigh that makes you ache all over with need. 

The man on the balcony stands up, steps forward, and boldly leans on the railing and clasps his hands, watching. He’s still a silhouette, and you try not to look right at him. 

"There's, um. Someone watching," you tell Billy. 

"Bother ya?" Billy asks, keeping his eyes glued to you.

You adjust your swimsuit to cover your nipples, and he says, "Guess so, huh. Drink at my place then?"

"I dunno," you say reflexively. 

He whispers in your ear, “Come home with me,” then gently bites your neck and pulls you tighter against his massive erection. You quietly gasp. 

“I can't, we’re going to sunrise yoga.”

“Yours then,” he offers, undeterred and growing breathless with desire. 

“My friends are there.” 

“Mine’s just a few minutes up the beach. I'll bring ya back,” he offers, “Go to yoga with ya.” He begins to move your body against his again. God, you want that hard cock.  Just a few days ago, the thought of anyone but Joel did nothing for you, and now, here you are. 

You bite your lip and hum, “mm,” in contemplation.

"A drink at the bar," he offers, nodding toward the hotel bar. "Then my place." 

You smile and he presses a gentle, closed-mouth kiss onto your lips. You're smiling against each other’s mouths for a second, until his cock throbs against you, and he seals his lips on yours, and your tongues need each other again. He grinds you against him for a few seconds and moans into your mouth before you pull your head away, and remind him, “Drink at the bar.” 

“Alright,” he breathes. His cock twitches against you "Gimme a minute, love. . . Fuck, I can't walk in like this," he laughs.

Footsteps approach, and you pull away from Billy. The footsteps are from a man with shoulder length hair and a mustache. He's grinning, looking down. He keeps walking, and as he passes by he laughs, "hey, I didn't see nothin', man."

Billy looks up. "Tommyyy. Wanna catch a wave tomorrow?" 

"Nah, we're rollin' out in the morning."

"Alright, mate. Good seein' ya.”

The voice of the stranger has jolted you back from your horny stupor.  "I'm actually really tired," you say, facing the side of the pool. You put your forearms up on the side and rest your cheek on  your hands. 

Billy groans in disappointment, but he gets it. 

"Maybe tomorrow night," you muse. 

"I've got a set at Aqua tomorrow. You should come."

"A set?" 

"I'm a DJ. And as for tonight. . ." He gets close behind you and murmurs near your ear. "I won’t leave ya like this. What kinda gentleman would I be?" Thank God. He snakes his arm around your front. The stiff shape in his swim trunks presses against your crack. 

He cups your whole pussy, and his middle finger prods at the fabric right at your entrance. "Gonna let me in here next time, aren’t ya?" he whispers and begins to rub you over the fabric. Pleasure is building in your core. You begin to lose yourself under his expert touch. "Yeah, there we go." He slides his other hand up under one side of your top and his bare palm covers your nipple. You could cum any second with his hardness grinding against you.

He slips his hand into your swimsuit and rubs your clit as he palms your tit. Your head falls back, he kisses your neck, then you let it happen.  You gasp and try not to be too loud as your final ascent begins, with Billy slowly rutting against your backside, breathing heavily in your ear.

—----------------

Joel doesn’t have a great view, and his eyes are tired from the sun, but he keeps watching. He’s convinced himself it’s not you, that he’s just been driving himself crazy thinking of you.

Even from a distance, it’s really hot to see. It reminds Joel of your last hook-up. Desire stirs in his pants, and he’s going to have to jack off. Maybe he’ll send you a jack-off video—he can do that now. Joel palms himself as he turns to go back inside. Then, you moan loud enough that he freezes with his hand on the sliding door. He’s heard that moan too many times.

. . .Did he just watch you, in the pool with Billy, hours from home? He tries not to look back as he goes inside and closes the door behind him.

He’s not jealous. Not jealous, he tells himself. 

He has no right to be.

You don’t owe him anything, and he knows that.

He’s fine. Not freaking out.

Joel’s a chill guy, even without the weed. But his ears are hot, and his heart is pounding so hard he can hear it. He smacks the wall and yells, “FUCK,” as a picture frame falls. He tries to shake the pain off his hand. 

What are you even doing here? 

“You alright, man?” Tommy asks, muffled through the wall. 

Joel rakes both hands through his hair and takes a few deep breaths. 

“Joel?” Tommy asks and cracks open the door between their rooms. 

“Yeah,” Joel answers as he sits down on the bed. He interlaces his fingers behind his head, elbows pointing forward. “I’m just stupid.” 

------

------

thank you for reading!

#f!reader #night walks!reader #the skeleton twins #night walks!joel #FIWB #toxicanonymity ☠️ #cuck!joel miller #joel miller angst #our favorite white boy #boyd holbrook #boyd bungalow ☠️ #billy x reader #billy skeleton twins #beach walks #boyd holbrook smut #👱‍♂️

[dojunie]

MESSENGER; HRJ [PT 4: COFFEE VS TEA]

➥ PART 4 OF MESSENGER; a small smau about a stranger, a whole lot of animal pics, and a relationship you would never have expected to come from texting a random number written on a public bathroom mirror.

➥ WC: 1.7K

[PREVIOUS PART] [INFO/MASTERLIST] [NEXT PART]

a/n: first written bit! lets see if i like this formatting in an hour and if not pretend you dont see me changing shit around 💪

current tl: @matchahyuck @theboyz-jacob @hoeshi17 @neoteez01 @hibernatinghamster @luvvsnae @shwizhies @skynightgalaxy @ihrtnyu @kunvibing @liliansun @txpxwxk @is4b3ll3s @rxnexxi @rum-gone-why @she-is-dreaming

.

.

.

THE LINE RINGS FOR ABOUT TWO ENTIRE SECONDS BEFORE EVERYTHING GOES VERY, VERY QUIET— And it’s only within that silence that you seem to realize that you might’ve just done something… weird.

Thoughtlessness was what had you pressing that call button (or maybe there was thought behind it; just the type that tired, sleep deprived, stupid people would have). Regret hits you like a brick when all your brain's neurons finally seem to reconnect. What the hell are you doing? You don’t know this guy! You don’t even know his name— not to mention that he doesn’t know yours! And somehow, before common sense caught up to you, you thought it was the logical next step to call him?

You’re stood in front of your desk with your headphones in your ears probably looking crazy as you stare at the screen, thoughts in sudden overdrive trying to figure out how to ‘Oops, butt dial!' your way out this— when it stops ringing.

Now connecting, Duck Boy.

“…Hello?”

Oh.

Your spine stiffens nearly upright at the sound of his voice. His... voice. Him. Duck Boy. Who once only existed in your mind as a selfie and a few bossy-yet-endearing texts, and now you’ve got a selfie, some texts, and a voice. 

Christ, why is your mind spinning like you’ve just unearthed some sort of incredible clue? It’s not like there’s anything stopping you from just asking him to meet up or something since this stupid mystery game is really only being perpetuated by you— but still, you find yourself overanalyzing the single word, the surprisingly low drawl of his tone (his voice is much, much deeper than you thought it would be), even the clarity of his speech and diction.

However. Again—and you can’t even blame the exhaustion for this because you feel wide awake now— you do something weird.

Too busy marveling over how he sounds, you completely forget to respond.

“Mystery girl…?” Duck Boy says again, startling you. “If you’re doing this to keep me awake, I’ve got to say— still kind of falling asleep over here.”

“M’was— Headphones,” you blurt. A lie. Your headphones have been in your ears for about two hours now as you worked on your architecture project, but he did not need to know that. “Was putting in my headphones. Hi.”

“…Hi.”

A shuffling on the line, like he's sitting up or shifting or something, and then he laughs a little bit in the ensuing silence. “You called me and broke your coveted mystique just to tell me hi?”

“No. I’m distracted. I'm... making tea. You don’t appreciate my hello?”

God. Three more lies. At least it’s not for long because this, plus the slight embarrassment washing under your skin, jumpstarts you into turning on your heel and darting into the kitchen. 

“I didn’t say that,” he hums. “You sure like putting words in my mouth. I meant, because you called me all gung-ho like, I was expecting a little more than a greeting. A quiz, or something. A game plan.”

“I have a plan.”

Holy shit, in the span of fifteen seconds you’ve turned into the biggest liar in the world. What plan? You hadn’t even fully recognized you were calling him until he picked up! “It’s twenty questions. The ultimate stay-awake game. I’ll ask such thoughtful questions that your brain will start to steam in that airport.”

This seems to catch him off guard; He snorts a laugh, a loud, pretty sound that you assume is immediately muffled because he’s in public. You’d been in the middle of setting a kettle on the stove when you heard it, and couldn’t help but smile a little widely in triumph. You made him laugh. Cool. 

“Is that so?” he snickers.

Slightly loosened up now, you shrug. “Of course. Let’s open it up with something easy. Coffee— or tea? There is a right answer.”

“How is there a right answer if you’re asking me what I like?”

“Between coffee and tea, of course there’s a right answer. One is good, crafted from nature and angels and all that is pure; a perfectly warm drink that soothes illness and brings joy to those young and old. And the other one is bitter and evil and rhymes with moffy.”

He laughs again. Shit. Should you consider becoming a comedian? Is this weird giddiness how they all feel when they get people to laugh? 

“I’m sure you’ve probably just never had good coffee,” he tries, “It’s not all bitter—“

“Are you putting forth your vote? Coffee? The devil’s choice of beverage?”

“No! You’re annoying. I like both.”

“That’s not the question I asked you, Duck Boy.”

You don’t even realize you’ve called him the name you refer to him as in your head. It slips out easily, a product of ease and amusement and familiarity— which is surprising to say when you’ve only been talking to this guy for a few minutes— but he doesn’t even seem to phase himself, only groaning as you badger him for an answer.

“Is it illegal to like both?” he asks finally, feigning hastiness. “Different occasions. Coffee to wake me up, tea to cool me down. Next question.”

“Don’t get too hasty, because the next question is in the same vein. What do you eat with your tea or coffee? Snack wise?”

“I would say I like bread with both,” he says confidently. “Like croissants? I really like croissants.”

“Something must be wrong with you.”

“What—“ You almost hear how he sits up, immediately affronted. “Hey!”

“Bread? Like just… straight bread? Yeast and egg and flour? With something as bitter as coffee, you’re not even going to have a donut or something? Lord, not even a muffin?”

“I don’t care for sweets! What do you like then, since you’re apparently the chooser of everything good?”

You lean against the counter, absentmindedly watching your kettle as you sigh theatrically, stretching like someone would before they run a marathon or swim a thousand meters. “You’re asking the wrong person this question,” you warn. “I could spend the next hour talking about snack combinations. Chamomile tea and banana nut muffins, a slice of frosted lemon cake with a taaaaall mug of double-steeped Earl Gray. I’m something of a savant in my field, you know. I might have to make you sign an NDA to protect my trade secrets.”

Duck Boy scoffs but you’re pleased to hear what sounds like a hidden smile— maybe even a grin. 

“Consider it signed,” he says. There’s another shift, a sound like fabric rustling, and then he sighs as if he’s just made himself comfortable; which, in an airport terminal seat, must be a fruitless effort. “I have nothing but time, Mystery Girl.”

Your tea was pretty great, all things considered. A London Fog with two teabags instead of one, a capful of vanilla essence to sweeten, milk and sugar— the perfect wind-down drink. It was no wonder then, when you returned to your room and found yourself heading for your bed instead of returning to the desk to continue your insidious diorama floor plan project, that your eyelids started to get a little heavy about fifteen minutes into twirling your finger around the headphone wire while talking with Duck Boy. You have been up for the last day after all, class and practice and studying, and tea at this hour always ends up knocking you on your ass after about half an hour.

The sudden onset tiredness isn’t helped by the fact that talking to him is so easy, either. 

It’s effortless. Who would have thought that the guy who routinely scolds you through text, periods and capitals and perfect grammar everywhere, could actually crack a few good jokes? It’s his dry humor that gets you, a deadpan delivery that had nearly made you spill hot tea on yourself three times; but you made him bark a laugh so loud at one point that he got the evil-eye from an airline attendant, so the scoreboard’s still in your favor.

Whether or not he can hear the sleepy lull in your voice through the phone, you’re not sure. He does seem to take the reins on question-asking though. Little things like your favorite color, musical genre, if you’re a homebody or the type to always be out and about. It’s a lot of good information (more than you ever thought you’d learn about some guy you dialed on a whim three weeks ago) which is why you’re a little salty that you had to go and fall asleep in the middle of all of it.

The last question you remembered had been after a small quiet, a breath of time where your eyes had been closed and he’d been humming, contemplating what to ask next.

Your tea was finished. Your laptop had timed out a long time ago which meant your room was only being lit by the kitchen light outside, a small sliver of warm white light.

“Do you— Do you do any extracurriculars? On campus?”

“Mystery breach,” you’d mumbled belatedly, attempting and failing to blink the bleariness from your eyes. “Look at you, trying to sneak that question in there. You already got to see me first. Now you want to know where to find me on campus, too?”

Immediately he flustered, stumbling for a response like you’d somehow managed to hit the nail on the head, but in your state you didn’t think to look further into it. “I’m kidding. At this point I’d probably give you my SSN if you asked for it. I play volleyball for the school, if that counts? I was on debate club in freshman year but I got kicked out for agreeing with my opponents too much.”

A beat, like he was mulling over this information, and then, “You? Agree with someone? That’s interesting, considering how much it seems you like to argue with me...”

“You’re different,” you yawned. “Very different. Being forced to debate with people I barely know on topics I don’t care about kind of sucks. But I actually like talking to you.”

“Oh,” he said. “…Is that so?”

"Right," you laughed and closed your eyes one last time. “I would never lie to my dickpic buddy.”

.

.

.

[A LITTLE WHILE LATER]

a/n: pls leave a like if you enjoyed! it motivates me to work on this every time i see a notification about it LOL

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[crplpunkklavier]

thoughts on vongole, and kristoph as a dog owner

DISCLAIMER: i am not a professional in dog care nor training. i have had and trained a dog for many years now, but he is not a retriever. i've studied up on other breeds out of curiosity (and due diligence tbh). if anything i say here is factually wrong and you know more, feel free to reach out!

Kristoph: Ah, yes, she's surprisingly delicate, you know. Requires careful tending. But, she is my "best friend", as they say. Phoenix: "Best"...? Come on, now I'm starting to feel bad for you. Kristoph: Oh? Of course, she's known to bite if handled roughly. Phoenix: Y-Your rose bites? Kristoph: ...... I was speaking of the photo next to the rose. My retriever, Vongole. Cute, but feisty.

this is all we ever learn about vongole. am i going crazy about it? maybe. (also, after this line, phoenix thinks to himself, "every dog has its thorn..." as if that means literally anything. i love him so)

vongole is one of my favorite mysteries about kristoph. she is not at all relevant in aa4, and if she was only ever going to be in this tiny bit of flavor text (so easily missable too!) why put her in at all? was she going to play a bigger role in a later game that shu takumi never got to bless us with? i guess it's possible. that would lift vongole on the same level as those pesky black psyche locks. but either way, we have her here, and that means i get to overanalyze her :)

or more accurately, i get to overanalyze kristoph gavin on the basis that he has a dog who

is a retriever

is "surprisingly delicate"

requires careful tending

is his best friend, as they say

bites if handled roughly

hey. what the fuck does any of that mean, kris?

lets start with the breed. i've mentioned in a post before that many of us seem to have collectively decided that vongole is a golden retriever, which seems fitting, since those are famous blondes, just like the other gavins. however, "retriever" doesn't automatically mean golden retriever! there are a few other retriever breeds. you're probably familiar with labrador retrievers, for instance. i have a curly-coated retriever in my neighborhood who, you guessed it, has a charming curly coat, pitch black, and is a trained service dog!

we often see retrievers as service dogs, because they're pretty fit for the job. the name retriever comes from hunting though. while my own dog is more engaged in actually running ahead and killing prey himself (no i don't let him do that.), retrievers have been bred to go and, well, retrieve prey for the hunters. this of course means that you can also teach them to retrieve other stuff for you fairly easily. like meds, socks, blankets -- stuff a service dog would be helpful for.

apart from that, retrievers are also known to be good family dogs, because they're friendly, affectionate, loyal, and quick to trust. they're also very active, and pretty smart! there are minor differences between the various retriever breeds, but this much goes for all of them to some extent.

why in the world does kristoph have a dog?

i... just..... does he seem like a dog person to you?? i just.... i mean, he doesn't seem like a cat person to me either. or a plant person. maybe he doesn't seem like a person to me. i just really stumble over this sometimes, because it seems wild to me to think that kristoph gavin got himself a retriever just because he.... wanted a retriever?

the guy works what's pretty much an office job. his salary shouldn't be very high, as a defense attorney? but, well, he's implied to like high-profile cases, and he had the money to employ an assistant, so i don't think he's poor. he needs time and space for a retriever, though. vongole isn't a little shih tzu who's happy to just hang out on your lap all day. again, REALLY active. this is a dog who wants AT LEAST an hour of outside time a day. kristoph gavin doesn't even look like he's ever seen the sun. but ok.

one frankly hilarious route i've considered is that he wanted a dog for protection. klavier says he's been "living in fear" ever since zak gramarye disappeared on him, and then he panicked enough to straight up beat him to death the minute he saw him again seven years later. he's paranoid, he's spying on everyone involved. i think kristoph really was very scared. so maybe at some point he figured he'd get himself a dog that would protect him from assailants.

i say this is hilarious because..... a retriever is not the dog you want, man. like, yeah, she'll be loyal to you if she likes you. the problem is she is also really quick to like you, or the intruder in your house, or the guy coming to your office to kill you. if kris got a retriever because he wanted a guard dog, that was a fantastic bit of stupidity, and i personally love it for him.

another angle i like, one that makes him a little less stupid and a little more horrifying, is appearances.

But, she is my "best friend", as they say.

this line really does something to my brain. kristoph gavin talks like a law text book at the best of times, so the somewhat awkward wording of it isn't really what's bothering me. it's the fact that he said it at all. it's that very last part. the "as they say." because, yeah, sure, people say that. yeah yeah, man's best friend, we've all seen it.

and it just... seems so very kristoph to latch onto a truism about human beings, to make himself look like one. look at him! he's got a suit, he's got a job. he's totally on speaking terms with his brother. when the bar association voted to disbar phoenix, he was the only one who voted against that (one more thing i'd love to make a big post about one day lol), he has regular dinner with his good friend phoenix wright, he has an assitant, he has a law office. he probably has a car, because it's LA. he has a savings account. that's not, like, canon, but he does. of course he also has a dog. he's just a regular human guy! he likes poetry and the arts. his best friend is a dog, and more than that, a breed which is known for its gentleness, and for how great they are with..... children :)

let's all sit back and let that chill go down our spine for a sec.

kristoph got a retriever to prove something. kristoph got a retriever for the same reason that he made friends with vera misham before he tried to kill her.

remember what his prison cell looks like? with the books, the arm chair, the violin? he keeps up appearances, even after his arrest. of course he'd put up a framed picture of his beloved dog. like any normal human person would.

but did he treat her well?

well...... well.

here's the thing.

i don't think kristoph gavin is an animal abuser. i don't think he treated her badly. but that's a sliding scale, with dogs, and with most pets, isn't it? if i'm never outright mean or violent to my dog, that's great, but if i never give him enrichment, if i never learn to read his body language, if i never give him what he fundamentally needs as a certain animal of a certain breed, i'm still not treating him well. i'm not treating him right, i'm just not overtly torturing him.

back to kristoph. in this vein, i often think about what we hear of his interactions with young vera. one thing that particularly sticks out to me is how drew misham says that kristoph was one of the very few people who ever made her smile.

kristoph clearly has a way with children, to an extent. he knows to get her that stamp -- he actually understands her childish fascination with magic a little too well and gets her a present that she likes so much it thwarts his whole plan. keep in mind that vera was 12 -- when kristoph's younger brother was 12, kristoph was 19 already, old enough to consciously learn things about the 12-year-old in his household. he knows kids, and he gets through to them.

but never fully, does he? klavier figured out something was off about the way his brother came to his office. and even vera, despite smiling at kristoph so earnestly, despite really loving that stamp, despite being only 12, even vera was so horrified by that little twitch of the devil's hand. there was always something uncanny about kristoph.

why am i bringing that up? i'm not saying everyone who's good with children will be good with dogs, or the other way around. but there is common ground. you're dealing with a living thing that's smaller than you, dependent on you, and you're building a relationship that'll take a lot of calmness, understanding, and reassurance. kids often can't express themselves in ways adults would immediately understand, and neither can dogs.

and i think kristoph got about as far with vongole as he did with vera. i think vongole liked him fine. again, retrievers are quick to like people. he was there, he fed her, he probably gave up trying not to let her up on the couch. sure she liked him. but did she listen to him?

before i ever had a dog, my mom used to tell me that she thought the concept of dog training (the german word is Hundeschule, so literally "dog school") was stupid, that she'd had a dog as a kid, and that dog didn't have to know any tricks, it wasn't a circus animal! well, my mom was also bad with every pet we've ever had, and with all three of her kids. so.

look, it's important that your dog listens to you. i'm just saying. no, it doesn't have to know "circus tricks," although depending on the breed, it might have fun learning them! and it definitely just. it needs the basics. your dog needs to understand what "no" means, and your dog should come when called -- i know we're all tired of alpha terminology and it's constantly used wrong, but, genuinely, your dog needs to know that you're the leader of the pack. your dog needs that, it's good for the dog. turns out i was also using it wrong! this reblog explains what i meant to say better than i could. my point was that you have got to give your dog something, some form of structure. for the dog's own cognitive development, for you to work as a union, and last but not least to make sure you don't bring harm to the outside world!

and, yeah, this is absolutely the part where i think kristoph failed. because no, i don't think he was ever violent with her or anything, but i also don't think he would ever have the patience it takes for solid dog training.

why else does he, unprompted, bring up that she is "surprisingly" delicate, and requires "careful" tending? kris, did you not know? why are you surprised by how delicate a literal living thing is? did you accidentally step on her paw and she acted like it's the end of the world? yeah, they do that. did you come home late from the office one night and there was a pile of poop on your overturned laundry basket? hmm. if only something could be done about that.

the "bite if handled roughly" part is the last one i wanna talk about, because that also gave me a lot of trouble.

i mean... dogs bite. they do! mine bites. especially puppies are happy to play-bite, often into hands, and it's important to get that under control while they're young. this also loops us all the way back around to vongole being a retriever. remember, they're bred to carry stuff in their mouths. it is in this dog's dna to use her mouth for stuff.

this means she might be bite-happy in a very specific way. i've actually read multiple times that retriever bites are "soft", because again, they're just supposed to retrieve game when hunting, not kill it themselves. it's already dead, and a dog actually biting into it would make it yucky for humans to eat. retrievers are good at moderating bite strength for that.

but.... it doesn't sound like that's what kristoph is talking about, is it? she's known to bite if handled roughly. that sounds like she really bites. and of course she does. if handled roughly. hey, what the fuck does that mean, handled roughly? who's handling her roughly?

again, this doesn't necessarily scream animal abuse. as @mlmschemes, out of professional experience, has brought up, there are certain things that need to be done during a vet visit that dogs don't always love, especially if they aren't used to it, like nail trims, to state the easiest one. you might have to hold a dog down for that. and if that dog is trained and socialized like ass, yeah, she'll bite if handled roughly.

but, hey, don't worry. she's just feisty. :) cute but feisty, he says.

just like every fucking dog owner i've ever met in the neighborhood who has a half-rabid untrained menace that would probably tear my face from my skull if not for its stupid retractable leash.

anyway.

kristoph wants to be a dog owner because it's a fun normal human thing to do and makes him look non-threatening, well-adjusted, and generally likeable. but he sucks at dog training. nobody has ever fully believed the guy--fucking, even apollo IMMEDIATELY deserts him in court. kristoph lives a superficial life and vongole probably has zero trouble becoming the best friend of whoever gets her next.

just to bring this already embarrassingly long post to a point and an end, here's some quick tips from me for portraying vongole, and by extension kristoph dealing with her:

retrievers are affectionate, so vongole is probably a cuddler

kristoph probably has fur fucking everywhere. he comes into the office with a briefcase thats just filled with lint rollers

vongole knows exactly zero commands. if you have food in your hand, she will sit down, because sometimes that gets her things, and she will try to use it at every possible opportunity

if sitting down doesn't work, she will become more and more annoying. if my dog felt like i wasn't giving him enough attention, he used to walk up to my desk and nudge my forearm with his nose so strongly that my grip on my computer mouse would slip and i would fuck up whatever i was working on.

kristoph loses patience with her. it'd be interesting to write, because he'd want to save face if it happens in public, too. he can't yell at his dog there, that'd look bad. i imagine a lot of insistent leash tugging, a lot of ill-advised grabbing/holding her (here's where he probably gets bitten too), and a lot of smiling and laughing and being like "ohh, haha, she's just so feisty today, what's going on ooo she's so nice normally haha"

i doubt he played much with her? she probably had toys, but for kristoph to interact with them a lot.... you can play fetch with retrievers pretty well, because, once again, they're retrievers. and that's a pretty classic "look at me i'm a normal dog owner" thing to do, so he probably has some like, tennis balls and stuff that he'd throw for her. but that's probably it.

if you write vongole changing owners to klavier and/or apollo, please please please let her do a full 180. if you're going by what i've theorized here vis à vis kristoph, that dog is DESPERATE to learn. dogs want jobs and she would be SOOO happy to be trained.

forget that thing about old dogs and new tricks. my dog is 8 years old and i'm currently teaching him a new command, for funsies. it's working and he loves it. you can write vongole becoming a model citizen at any age. i implore you to.

#😳 #imco #im not copying this into openoffice to check the word count. its so much #i got carried away lol #ace attorney #kristoph gavin #vongole #ash i hope it was ok to @ you!! lmk if not then ill remove the url

[jiminrings]

as a psych student learning something about human development, i wanna know how the couple will be all around the internet searching about shits in parenting. OR MAYBE one of them starts overanalyzing or over observing their baby bcoz they saw those articles abt childs development AND THEY WANT TO BE A GOOD PARENT

does that scream jungkook to me? yes, im picturing him in that position but it can be y/n too!! AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW ERA BABE!!

478: drabble

alternatively, a glimpse of hwayoung’s first 100 days <3

[ 478 masterlist ]

DAY 13

“Hi, pretty girl,” Jungkook hovers above Hwayoung as she lies on her back, much to her curiosity and much to your amusement.

“Heyyy-…” Jungkook drawls as he goes from the center of the foot of the bed all the way to the side, suddenly straightening up as he does a standing long jump all the way to the other, “….pretty girl!”

Your daughter doesn’t seem to be amused as you but she still watches her dad anyway, making you snort so hard that the grogginess you’ve had from the night before starts to dissipate.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s week two. I’m trying to see if Hwayoung can track things with her eyes; that’s supposed to be a milestone this week.”

“Where did you get that from?” you wonder out loud, trying to recall if you read that anywhere from the pamphlet that her pediatrician gave you.

Jungkook sounds almost offended that you’re asking him to cite his sources, making him scoff playfully. “My instincts.”

You try not to bring up Jungkook’s constant indecisiveness and his need for approval whenever it came to tending to Hwayoung, yet with just one look, he scoffs as he changes his answers.

“The pedia.”

Your glance is empty and you’re just about to believe it because sometimes, you have to talk Jungkook out of texting the doctor at godforsaken hours in the morning just because he has a question. 

He mistakes your glance for something more and instantly he relents, shoulders sagging as he huffs. “Fine, it’s the parenting subreddit.”

DAY 32

“Is it just me or is Hwayoung not starting to coo yet?” you mumble under your breath, startling Jungkook awake not because you suddenly spoke while he’s only shallowly sleeping, but because it’s the same thing on his mind.

“Not just you. I thought I was going crazy,” he sighs, pinching his eyes. Surely enough, your daughter knows how to cry and shriek, but she isn’t at that stage yet where she mimics the basic syllables that you echo to her. 

You sigh, rethinking the past few days with utter concentration just to see if you’ve missed a milestone. Jungkook thinks as hard as you, eyes fluttering to see Hwayoung awake in her crib but peacefully just looking up at the toys.

Jungkook stands up as you list off the things you’ve searched on your own, crouching down to get Hwayoung off her crib so the both of you can fawn over her more closely as you ponder over her (incoming) milestones. He’s less nervous now when it comes to picking her up because supporting her comes to him like second nature now, however no matter how secure she is in his hold, Jungkook overlooked the possibility of his entire head bumping against the overhead toys.

He hits his head so hard against the base of it that he hears a resounding slap against his skull, but apart from that, he hears something else — Hwayoung cooing.

You immediately squeal in celebration, clapping your hands that makes your daughter turn her eyes to you this time. Jungkook blinks once, twice before breaking out into a grin.

He settles Hwayoung on your lap, walks over to the crib again before crouching, and prepares an act.

DAY 65

When you walk out of the bathroom fresh from your shower, the first thing that greets you is the sight of two figures laying down on the mat; one delicate in her new onesie, and the other clearly overgrown for the playpen.

“It’s tummy time.”

Jungkook calls out to you even if you don’t beg for an explanation, craning his neck to look at you from behind him. His nose almost dives to the floor if not for you snickering at how you have to walk backwards just to catch him and Hwayoung in the same frame.

“How’s the neck?”

“Hmm, it’s a little sore. I fell asleep on the couch again,” Jungkook frowns, rolling out the tensions with his knuckles. He pleasantly hums at the pressure, eyes blinking until he realizes why you’ve never responded to him. He sheepishly chuckles, scratching his head. “Oh. You meant Hwayoung.”

DAY 100

Hwayoung can’t just seem to stop giggling.

Her laughter has no real agenda behind it but its common theme revolves around Jungkook fumbling for something one way or another, the current fit of laughter your daughter’s in now being your husband fumbling for the strings of Miso’s collar (that he crocheted himself) that goes with the party theme.

There’s a distinct warmth that spreads in your chest, less of recalling that Hwayoung’s milestones are on time and more of the realization that you have everything you’ve ever hoped for; your very own family getting ready in the dressing room where just outside, all of your closest family, friends, and colleagues wait to celebrate Hwayoung’s first 100 days.

“Jungkook?”

He hums at the mention of his name, brows furrowed in frustration because Miso won’t just stay still but he still gives you attention. He straightens up immediately at the way your eyes seem glassy, and normally, he’d race towards you at the very first sight of you being down.

Jungkook, however, doesn’t have to do anything because Hwayoung coos and giggles once again, reaching her hand out in such a smooth and controlled manner that her little fist hovers above your face, almost as if she’s willing for the happy tears to stay inside.

You burst into laughter at that, the tears still coming to show that you’re so overwhelmed and happy — it actually stings. Your eyes flicker between your husband and your daughter, a grin making its way to your lips.

“Love you.”

#478 drabbles #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario

[drunk-on-dk]

Hi bby!! Congrats on 800!! 💕🫶🏼🎉🥳🎊🍾 I’ve been thinking about a strangers to lovers scenario with our seokmin, something along the lines of he sits next to you in business class, catches you reading erotica on the plane and makes an offhand comment. But him catching you being naughty has you so turned on before you know it he’s fucking you in the bathroom 😳😵‍💫 I wanna know your thots!!! 🤭

hi hi hi, thank you SO much, love <3 and ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEEEEEE, this HAD ME SCREAMING AND MY MIND RACING... i had some thots and maybe got carried away but i hope you enjoy thank you for sharing this w me 😈

✦pairing/genre warnings: stranger!seokmin x fem!reader, smut (minors DNI), content warnings under the cut

✦wc: ~1.5k whoops

✦content warnings: fem reader! but no specific pronouns, some degradation & humiliation? (seokmin calls yn a slut and whore), public sex lol we're in an airport, UNPROTECTED SEX (this is the worst pls make sure to wear protection, especially with strangers bffr), Seokmin isn't so smiley and cute and him and yn are kinda wildin out together

If someone had told Seokmin he’d be balls deep in a stranger that he’d only met on his flight a few hours ago, he would have profusely shaken his head in disbelief and considered them crazy. Seokmin wasn’t that kind of guy, never bold enough to pursue someone and seal the deal that quickly.

However, it was incredibly difficult to not be bold in this case scenario, unable to bite his tongue when he noticed how restless you were just a seat over from him, not even the miraculously empty seat between you two being enough of a distance to hide that you were so shamelessly reading porn in public.

Seokmin watched you from the corner of his eye, hyper-aware of the very attractive stranger in his age bracket seated near him (was that so wrong of him? Of course not, we all aren’t free of the curse that is being inevitably attracted to the person in the airport that is assumedly around the same age as you. He was just lucky to have the seat next to you on the same flight).

Originally, Seokmin was concerned when he noticed you shifting so much in your seat, hoping he didn’t make you uncomfortable from all his sly glances, only to realize you were rubbing your thighs tightly against each other. He started to overanalyze, until he peeked at what you were reading, somehow catching a shockingly explicit chain of words on the page you’ve been on for the last minute.

Maybe you thought you could get away with it, at a seat located in the far back of the plane, and having space between you two, but you were doing a poor job at hiding how clearly aroused you’d become. Admittedly, you didn’t anticipate reading something erotic on the plane, but when the novel you’ve been reading suddenly took a spicy turn, you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing.

Typically, Seokmin would have ignored this, and maybe would have pocketed this memory in the spank bank for when he’d inevitably pleasure himself later. However, Seokmin could practically smell you, a sweet scent wafting in the air around him as you so subtly rocked and shifted in your seat and making his head spin when thinking about how uncomfortably wet you probably were.

Unfortunately for him, he found himself getting turned on, cock stiffening ever so slightly and not settling as you continued to read next to him. He tried to remain calm, but he couldn’t even when the flight had landed. Curiosity got the best of him, peering over to notice the blush that colored your cheeks, tucking away your boxy headphones and book into your bag as you reconnected with reality, looking so innocent in your cute, oversized airport outfit that almost swallowed you whole, even though Seokmin knows exactly what you were up to for the last half hour.

You seemed clearly flustered, Seokmin noted, and he didn’t even realize the words that slipped out of his mouth as he made a slight comment to you, watching as you attempted to pull your carry-on down from the overhead compartment.

“Do you need help with that?” Seokmin questioned you quietly, yet loud enough for you to hear, turning around to look at him with saucer-like eyes as you were still slightly embarrassed by how worked up you had become, hoping that he hadn’t noticed after being sat next to you the whole flight.

“Oh no, I’m okay,” you say, managing to pull the heavy luggage down and slightly stumbling back into him.

Seokmin used this moment to his advantage, gently steadying you as he leaned closer to your ear, “not with that, but with the problem that you’ve had most of this flight?”

This is how you had found yourself locked up with him, a handsome stranger that you’ve just met, in a personal bathroom outside of the gate that your plane had docked at. Large hand wrapped around your mouth as he fucks you on the sink countertop.

“So fucking shameless,” he pants, his massive length pumping in and out of you as you moan into his hand.  “Such a little slut, reading that shit on the plane next to all these strangers, and then being this loud in public. It’s like you want people to know you’re a little whore?”

You’re nodding into his hand, hips chasing his as you become entranced by watching where you two are connected, your arousal leaving a humiliating white ring around his cock from how soaked you had become during the flight. Seokmin follows your gaze, a choked gasp of pleasure escaping his lips as you clamp down tighter on his length the more you stare down and watch.

Something carnal in him takes over as he removes his hand from your mouth, grasping harshly at your ass to lift you off the counter, and allowing you to wrap your limbs around him before picking up the pace to thrust harder, deeper, and faster inside of you.

“Do you usually cream around a stranger’s cock like this?” Seokmin’s breath is hot against the shell of your ear, head falling back as he mercilessly bullies his cock inside of you, his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit and providing you with the extra friction that you need.

“No, not usually,” you’re gasping out, attempting to remain quiet as you whimper each time he pounds into you, a squelching sound coming from between you two from how messy your cunt is. You let out a slightly louder moan, walls squeezing around his length and making him capture your lips with his, teeth biting harshly at your bottom lip as a warning.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, but you need to be quiet,” he’s getting close, even with this being the only time you’ve ever met this man, you can tell by the strain in his voice and the way his hips sloppily rock into you that he is close to reaching his own high.  

Seokmin can feel your slick dripping down his thighs at this point, trying to pinpoint what exactly has you so aroused as you come undone in his arms, and trying to learn about you as much as possible during this quick exchange. He can tell you’re slightly mortified, that same blush from earlier never dissipating, and trying to hold back your sounds as he pleasures you.

“You’ve never done this before have you?” You’re shaking your head no in response, fingers clawing at his neck as your head continues to loll back when he hits a spot impossibly deep inside of you. He’s groaning himself, shocked by how your hot, tight pussy molds around his cock so perfectly and how easy it is to make you react. He continues to ask you questions with each thrust, the tip of his length dragging delightfully against your walls only to get sucked back in. “Never fucked someone random in public? Never been this naughty? Never taken dick like a good little plaything?”

You’re crying out, pathetically breathing out no, no, no, the wind getting knocked out of your chest each time he bottoms out inside of you. You admit it to him, trusting this man you’ve known briefly with your own dirty secrets, “so filthy, I love it.”

“Fuck yeah you do,” he’s eating all of your noises at this point, taking in every moan and cry that bubbles from your chest as he continues to bounce you on his cock. He can feel you clenching around him, Seokmin can almost feel the pulse of your swollen clit as he finally encourages you to come undone, “come around me, baby, like the dirty little slut you so badly want to be.”

With that, you’re squeezing and clenching around him, encouraging him to cum inside of you as you shake from your own orgasm. It’s so much more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced, throbbing, and pulsing around his length. You let him overstimulate you as he sloppily thrusts into you, only becoming messier from the way your slick and cum drip from your spent hole.

When he finishes himself, you’re sure to milk him for all he’s worth, allowing him to fill you up as he groans into your hair and neck. Seokmin could almost become addicted to the way your walls flutter around him, fearing that he’ll never cum this hard ever again nor ever have the opportunity for an experience like this.

You can’t help but mutter a thank you as he helps clean you up, part of you is still embarrassed, but the relief and thrill of it all outweigh any regret. Especially when you notice how bright his smile is when he prepares to part ways, feeling grateful that he did seem like a good person, something that will be burned into your brain along with what just occurred. Seokmin respectfully sends you on your way with a tender kiss on the forehead, of course not without slipping you his number (with a reminder of his name jotted down) before bidding you goodbye and wishing you safe travels for wherever you were originally headed.

#svthub #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #dk smut #dokyeom smut #lee dokyeom smut

[iamumbra195]

I was watching the movie that expands on the first episode called the Great detective turned small like the case at the very beginning and why Gin and Vodka were there. We even have scenes for Amuro, Chianti and Korn and Kir gets a little cameo as a reporter who talks about Shinichi in the beginning of the first episode

But anyways back to my point. I love this movie because for a second, idk if I'm just overanalyzing, it looked like Shinichi actually teared up, overwhelmed by all the shit that happened to him all at once and that has to be my favourite thing ever cause he rarely ever cries or shows emotion beyond anger, desperation or just being a snarky bitch. Obviously he's happy and stuff but I mean emotion as in him genuinely being overwhelmed because I promise you I would've been having a whole breakdown after all the shit he went through in like a few hours.

Like he saw someone get decapitated (Idc what he said, he might have been desensitized to murders but that's sure as hell gonna stick in his head, the blood literally squirted all over him and Ran) then he solved the case, comforted Ran, ran after the suspicious dude he saw before, saw do a whole blackmail deal while talking about some shady organization, got hit on the head hard enough that it effected his memory and he was barely aware of what was going on, got fed a drug, felt like he was burning alive, thought he was going to die, woke up as a little kid and no one is believing a single thing he's saying, almost got sent to a child care center which is a little disaster in Japan search it up, got chased by the police like a criminal with huge as dogs as well, couldn't call Ran because he knew she wouldn't believe him as well, ran home in the rain, and then almost got run over by a truck.

Like. Dude needs so much therapy for that single night, not to mention all the other shit that happens and the truck load of trauma he's going to be faced with for next year or however long canon has been. Yeah, that's crazy.

My guy deserves more than a little tear up, I need to see him cry for once

#detective conan #case closed #dcmk #shinichi kudo #edogawa conan #ramblings #Movie: Great Detective Turned Small #my baby #let him cry #he needs a hug #and therapy #so much therapy

[stanning-reyna]

Percy knew it was irrational. It’s not like Annabeth had side-lined him for Piper. Since boarding the Argo II, her and Percy had spent all hours of the day together, and yet he still felt sick to his stomach each time her and Piper exchanged a knowing look or finished each others’ sentences.

Acting that in-sync had always been their thing. Whether they were fighting monsters or arguing with other campers, Annabeth and Percy had ran like a well-oiled machine since they were 12. And now her and Piper did that. It was fine, he wasn’t jealous or anything. Nope. Piper was best friends with Annabeth now and-

And he was just her boyfriend. Was that really all their relationship was now? Maybe he was just overanalyzing this all and driving himself crazy for no reason. Hopefully that was it. Sure, he had been gone for months, but Annabeth wouldn’t find a replacement best friend so quickly, right?

He should probably talk to her about that.

#he wants to be her bff not just bf #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo #hoo fandom #pjo fandom #hoo series #pjo series #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #percabeth

[wegonbealright-09]

i'm literally so glad i found your blog among all the delulus in the jkk tag!

i used to be a jkkr, and honestly there still are some moments of them, particularly up until 2019-2020 that are undeniable questionable... to say the least, but i feel things changed a lot since then, and if jkk were something indeed, i believe they aren't anymore.

jk always done the bare minimum for jimin and was praised and put on a pedestal, when the most relevant and ""boyfriend-y"" gesture he's ever made was gcf tokyo, but man ain't winning boyfriend of the year never. aside from gcft and maybe gcf saipan, i can't think of another single big gesture he's ever made towards jimin, and here we're talking about the man who flied from paris to seoul just to spend a few hours of jk's bday with him.

also jk's personality and behavior since this solo era started (and honestly, before ch. 2 too) are just so cringe wth. jokers spend so much time to deny that he's a fuckboy/jb wannabe just for him to go and prove them wrong. those papparazzi pics were the last straw for me. dude literally just sang a song about fucking, which, believe me, for the us public is just another tuesday, and already thinks he is the next justin bieber or something.

but anyway, i digress... the point is i'm so tired of how jokers became the new taekookers overanalyzing everything. i really hate this one theory that apparently is very popular among jkk spaces that jimin didn't do a live with jk because he "can't control himself" around him like what is that supposed to meannnn. i really hate it here and i'm so glad that jimin is keeping it to himself and letting jk and his crazy fans lead themselves to a massive fall very soon.

i just had to get this out of my chest lmao

That was alot.

Overall yes, yes and yes.

For the last part. What jokers refuse to see or acknowledge is the fact that jimin removed himself from jk. You can clearly see he's set some boundaries, him not wanting to do a live with jk it is because he knows it'll be awkward they'll have nothing to talk about, jimin would have to be the one initiating everything whilst his "boyfriend" acts like he was forced to be there.

And they have this whole theory or thing of jk building a mansion for him and jimin and the reason why there isn't alot of stuff in jimin's house it's because he's moving to the mansion with jk soon. LMAO

#jimin #jungkook #jikookers #lmaooo

[the-poets-might-disagree]

well I've never written fanfic before, but the pic on the left made me think of a short story, so I wrote my first one (or something like that), if anyone happens to like it, I'll be more than happy ☺️ if not, well, I've had fun with it 😂

"They're almost here!" I shout as I see a text popping up on my screen, toothbrush in my hand, hurrying to get ready. I check the clock quickly, it's 1:10 in the afternoon.

"They're almost here!" I shout as I see a text popping up on my screen, toothbrush in my hand, hurrying to get ready. I check the clock quickly, it's 1:10 in the afternoon.

"Huh?" he asks, while the water's running in the shower.

"G says they're here in twenty!" I shout a bit louder this time, while he steps out of the shower and wraps a tower around his waist.

"That's okay, you just get dressed and I'll take care of the rest" he smiles at me while running his fingers through his wet curls.

I finish washing my teeth while watching him in the mirror as he goes into the bedroom, opens the cabinet and grabs a brown shirt with straps on it, puts on his shorts then leaves the room.

As I catch myself smiling, I shake my head and take a minute to calm my nerves. This is all so crazy. We've been only going out for a couple of months, catching each other here and there whenever possible, but now that he has spent the last few days in town I haven't left his place at all, which he hasn't even settled into yet. There are still a couple of boxes everywhere but he leaves in two days again so he invited his friends over to check the place out this afternoon. We have spent the whole morning in bed, only to realize it was time to get ready.

I put on a little sunscreen, mascara and lip balm then go into the room to try and find a dress in my mess of a bag- I clearly wasn't prepared for staying over this long.

"Yellow or blue?" I look at him showing up both options while he grabs a couple glasses in the kitchen.

"I like the blue one" he says with a smirk and I instantly know he thinks about undressing me two nights ago when we got back from a Rufus Du Sol concert.

"Blue one it is" I smile as I tie my hair and double check if the dress is still good to wear for a second time. I join him in the kitchen.

"Music?" I ask while he's putting some snacks in bowls.

"Yes, please!" he grabs his phone, opens spotify, then slides the phone across the counter for me while turning on the bluetooth speaker. (No wonder the back of his phone is broken - I think to myself.)

I'm not really comfortable yet playing my own favorites so I just browse through the songs he recently played and put a Dylan song on.

"They're here" he says and I can see the widest smile appearing on his face while we watch as a car pulls up front. He walks to the door to open it, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He told me how important his old friendships are for him so I know it's a big deal I'm meeting them, not counting that one time we ran into Giullian at an event in New York for a couple minutes the other night.

- - - - -

"Who wants another beer?" I ask as I get up to go into the kitchen. A couple hours have passed, while we were just laughing, listening to music and the guys sharing old stories. I slide the terrace door and walk to the fridge, and only when I turn to grab the bottle opener I realize he followed me back and is standing behind me.

"Are you having fun?" he asks with that smirk that I can't get enough of. His face is blushed, clearly tipsy. He steps one step closer, our faces almost touching.

"Yes, you?" I check, trying not to overanalyze if his friends like me or not.

He grabs my face with both hands, kisses me with his eyes closed, and nods twice. He seems so calm, so happy, and I'm glad I get to see this side of him.

We return to the poolside, I hand the beers out, and while he sits down I realize what a beautiful sunny afternoon it still is and how lovely he looks enjoying and soaking it all in.

"Guys, look here!" I tell them as I snap a pic, just making sure I'll never forget this moment. His smile says it all. ♥️

#i hate how the tumblr app is full of bugs #wont let me delete the duplication of the first line #driving me crazy but oh well #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet fanfiction

[roo-bastmoon]

The truth is...

The truth is, I have a tender heart.

I see people hate on Jimin (or Tae or any BTS member), using slurs, making up lies, canonizing misinformation, deliberately sabotaging projects, attacking other fans... and it hurts me more deeply than is probably normal. My heart grows so weary watching it unfold.

But more than my own feelings--because my spiral is my spiral, it's not anyone else's responsibility to fix my feelings--there is a steadily increasing toxicity taking over ARMY. And I'm at a real loss as to how to stop it.

The cult is ramping up. Antis and akgaes are getting more extreme. Sasaengs are getting too close and too bold--and their content is becoming normalized, even, and shared out in the open. This is going to change things.

The thing I loved most about BTS (besides their music and art) was how genuine and authentic and vulnerable they were with us. They would come to us, and initial personas aside, I felt they rapidly started to show us who they really are--what worried them, delighted them, their ambitions, their heartaches.

There is no incentive now for them to share anything personal. Everything they do is criticized and overanalyzed until it sucks the joy out of everything.

Jimin, who I think we can all agree is a lightning rod for the most hate, pretty much tapped out before 2022 even began.

Jungkook decided to go work-only by mid-2022.

Here we are in early 2023 and between a hot mess over photos and now attacks over Insta follows, I wonder how much longer Taehyung will keep his content personal.

Even Hobi is starting to only post things related to projects, brands, or awards.

Yoongi... lol... aside from that one cat photo that got through, Yoongi is and always has been a man of mystery. He apparently does like a good linoleum kitchen, though. Bless.

I'm SHOCKED that Namjoon posts as much as he does AND shared an entire episode detailing the layout of his entire house. For the most part, Joon stans seem really sane, and the crazies don't seem to target him much (any more). But even so...

I don't think our boys are gonna come back from military and be this open with us again. I don't think we will ever get back to the 2018-2019 level of insight and constant content we were once blessed with.

I HATE that ruiners ruin things. I am really searching for a way to NOT let assholes affect my mood but... it sometimes just feels like the whole world is being polluted by a few toxic people. I mean, take your pick: climate change, vaccines, politics, sports, the entertainment industry... there's no escape from a few assholes who just set out to ruin things.

I'm 43. I know the world has always sucked, but it never used to suck so much SO FAST. Things really truly used to be different. Most people had critical thinking skills. Most people unplugged from TV, news, and entertainment for whole hours if not days at a time. Most people believed in science. Most people had... if not a genuine kindness, at least a sense of shame... before they could hide behind a keyboard. Now I feel like I have to gird my loins any time I come onto the internet.

Is this my "the world is going to hell in a handbasket" lamentation post? No, not really.

I'm just so tired you guys. I'm tired and I need a good long hug.

You see, Jimin worked so hard on VIBE. He wrote part of it. This was his idol. He promoted his work for the first time on his social media. And he wasn't properly credited, it wasn't under Jimin's spotify or melon, it wasn't available in many countries, vipers boycotted it, little-7s won't promote or purchase it, there was a 27% filter rate in the first 24 hours because people wouldn't stream properly...

So now he is the first and only BTS member whose collab might not chart in Hot 100. And you KNOW ruiners will never let that die; they will drag him for it forever. It sometimes feels like he gets sabotaged the most.

And there's nothing to DO about it, except keep streaming and buying and voting and showing up for him. Which I always will. But I also gotta process my feelings around the way this all played out. I'm worried for PJM1.

Why do so many people hate someone so loving, hardworking, talented, and kind-hearted? I am truly baffled.

I thought about not posting this. Because really, who wants to listen to some rando on the internet feel her feels? But if you got this far, I'd gently encourage you to let yourself express whatever you're feeling too. After all:

So go ahead and grieve, rage, whatever you gotta do. And when you've let those feelings wash over and out of you, remember... there's a person in Seoul...

And finally, I will leave you with this. We cannot change the ruiners. We cannot stop them and their desire to ruin. It is important to take breaks, to recharge, to support one another. And then, we get back up, dust ourselves off, and work harder.

For Jimin. For BTS. For ARMY. Because in the end, we really are all they have.

FIGHTING.

[tropiyas]

i need to share an embarrassing work story and get your thoughts on it bc maybe it was overanalyzing or if something crazy actually did happen

okay so quick context - our company had a bus to bring us to and from this all-day networking event. i've been out of town for a while and this is my first event back.

during the networking event this coworker and i ended up chatting more and hitting it off and being more friendly w/ each other than the rest of the crowd and kind of hover around each other :D

we board the bus (it's like 20-ish people headed back) but how it ends up is the coworker is across the aisle from me and there is a loud tall guy between the two of us. he's mostly friendly but lowkey more annoying the more you talk to him (i.e. filling dead air with babble instead of being silent)

me and the coworker independently thought of an idea, and I would assume that the implication is we both wanted to sit next to each other. I suggested to switch seats with annoying tall guy, because he might want the legroom (I genuinely had more space than him on my seat), and he's like "nah I'm good." Okay that's fine. Half an hour later, the coworker asks him if he wants to swap seats with her, and presses a bit more than I did. He ALMOST accepts the offer and switches the seat, but then right when he leans to get up, I notice him glance at me, HESITATE, and then go "nah, I'm good."

I'm so embarrassed, the benefit of the doubt answer is "he didn't want to impose and make us move." But the more funny maybe realistic answer is "he knew what we were up to, and spited me"

#it's definitely in my top 10 embarrassing moments (as someone who is rarely embarrassed and owns his cringe often)

[mistydeyes]

pairings, you say? 👀

i’m a girl who’s moderate height. covered in tattoos and hopefully piercings soon 🤞🏻 (scared of needles only for piercings LMAO) i love reading (obviously 🙄) and playing music. more into metal and stuff a bit dark. collect taxidermy, jewelry and strays. the cool gf, ig? that’s how all my exes have described me. just going with the flow and accepting whatever. dress a bit masculine, but can rock those boobs for all they’ve got. spend most of my time reading horror and watching horror lolol

sorry if this was unnecessary info or what 😭 feel free to ignore or whatever lol

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

How you met: Civilian "One ticket to The Blair Witch Project please," you asked the attendant. You would drive your exes crazy with your routine of visiting the cinema and watching old horror movies on Friday nights. But now you got to enjoy your little tradition as a newly single woman. "Here you go, Miss, it'll be a quiet showing today it seems. Only sold 1 other ticket today," the attendant said and handed you your ticket. The empty theatre was ideal as you could enjoy the movie without having people get up in the middle of it or talk on their phones. As another attendant directed you to the theatre, you slowly walked down the rows to find your perfect seat. E6 was the best seat in the entire theatre, not too far back and not right against the screen. You saw someone else occupying E5 but decided that this asshole wasn't going to interfere with your movie. As you sat down, he looked at you and you gave him a casual nod. "Out of all the seats in the theatre you chose this one?" he asked and you noted his accent, something reminiscent of Scottish. "What can I say, it's my favorite seat?" you joked back, "You like horror movies?" "Guess you could say that, just got a lot of free time," he replied. The conversation died out as the previews began to roll and you cozied in your seat. Throughout the whole movie, you laughed at his shocked expressions and he laughed at your surprised screams. By the end of it, you both were overanalyzing every aspect of the movie. "I'm just saying I wouldn't have taken that short cut," he said and you countered with, "Nah she's just a horror movie protagonist, the real psychos were her friends." As you walked out of the theatre, you turned to him and asked, "This was fun, want to do this again?" and you exchanged numbers for next week.

A peak into your relationship: "It'll be just a pinch," the piercer tried to reassure you as they held your septum and nose in a position that made it hard to breathe. Your hands felt clammy as your boyfriend, Johnny, held them and tried to reassure you. Emphasis on try as he was also taking pictures of you with your nose pinched. "Stop that" you exclaimed as you saw he was relentless. "It's a keeper, bonnie," he said and you couldn't wait to get out of this chair. "Now stay still," the piercer said and your eyes watered as you felt the needle go through your septum. After what felt like hours, they put the hoop in and let you examine the new piece of jewelry. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were in love with it. It made you feel like even more of a badass and you could tell your boyfriend felt the same way as he went to take many more pictures. "Thanks so much, I'll definitely be back," you called out as you excited the piercing shop. As you walked back to the car, Johnny was in a cheeky mood. "Hey lass, you know it kinda looks like a bull's ring," he said and you punched his shoulder playfully in response. "Shut up Mactavish," you said and he laughed the entire way home.

#izziespairings #madebyizzie #cod mwii #mw2 imagine #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #mw2

[journeyofwatchingonepiece]

The Journey of Watching One Piece August Update

Hey! It’s been a minute… or a month… one hell of a month, and I have been living it up in the Syrup Village…

Alright time to address “The Wall” that I crashed into a month ago. First, a little about myself, bc I work two jobs (at least 20 hours a week for both positions) and sometimes I work a side hustle dog sitting, and I attend therapy. Throughout the month of July, it was hard for me to get into a good routine that would allow me to manage all my jobs, let alone work on this blog. I suffer from depression and feelings of inadequacy that were aggravated by personal, financial, and work issues. Not being able to continue this blog also weighed heavily on my mind for the past month where every other moment I would tell myself I should continue the blog only for it not to come to fruition. When August hit and I was at my wit's end, I had to step back and reassess what I was doing. I had to come to terms that I was asking too much of my current self and had to come up with a different strategy if I want to actually have fun with my hobbies again.

That leads us to today and a little bit of yesterday. I took out my planner and thought about myself and what I want to do. Of course, I’m still figuring it out but I’m getting somewhere. Now let’s do a little review of the “rules” I set for myself at the beginning of this challenge and what I’m changing, removing, or adding.

1.) I’m going to watch 1 episode of One Piece every day. This may sound crazy as I have stated that it will take three years to do, but I think it’s important for me to really take my time with the series.

I NEED TO TAKE MORE TIME! Despite the fact that it would take me longer to watch One Piece I believe it would be better that I make occasional updates to the blog instead of forcing myself to update the blog every day. This was the main reason you would see the blog updated around midnight. I would actually watch an episode of One Piece around 10 at night and finish writing the episode blog around midnight. This is not healthy and most importantly does not allow me to create a constructive response to the episode I just watched. Now let’s change this rule.

I’m going to watch 1 episode of One Piece on days I don’t have two appointments to attend to. While this will put a consistent schedule of One Piece updates up in the air I would prefer to not feel pressured to watch every day and crank out a crappy blog and actually enjoy my time with One Piece. This will help alleviate the workload I have in a day as well as give you guys more quality updates.

2.) I need to write a journal entry about the episode I watched, before starting the next episode. This will give me time to really digest the episode and do more with it than just mindlessly watching each episode. I want to engage with the show and casually analyze it to understand what I like and don’t like in shows.

I would like to revise this rule. I would like to analyze the show, but overanalyzing a piece of art can feel like jumping into a metaphorical rabbit hole. Instead of say, analyzing a show, I would just like to gush about it. Let me just run that point home: I give myself permission to gush about how hot One Piece characters are. I have been on AO3 enough times to know I’m not the only one who finds the characters of One Piece characters hot. Yeah, it is self-indulgent, but it's also fun for me.

3.) My word cap for each journal will be 250 - 500 words. This word count will force me to actually write more than just “I watched this episode it was cool”. The word limit will also force me to write concisely. In my writing, I have noticed that I tend to wander into strange anecdotes and it happened while writing the initial journal for the first episode.

This can stay the same.

4.) I am allowed to binge-watch One Piece, but I have to write a journal entry before going to the next episode.

I’m going to remove this one since I currently don’t feel comfortable enough that I can watch more than one episode of One Piece and write a blog in a single day.

5.) I am also allowed to enjoy other shows and media, as there are series and shows I want to watch that are finished and new media being released that I want to experience. One Piece isn’t my life.

I’ll keep this rule for now, but I might change it later. Consuming new media and watching One Piece might be a little challenging at the moment, but I’ll figure something out. I really want to watch Chainsaw Man…

Now I’m going to experiment by adding two new rules.

As you may have noticed, I don’t have any art on this blog. I could use images off Google for my tumblr blog, but I think it would be more fun (and cringeworthy) if I use my own art. While I’ve got a backlog, I have been drawing a character from each episode of One Piece to improve my art skills anyways. Oda Eiichiro’s art is truly great and I am especially drawn towards his artwork in One Piece’s earlier years.

6.) After watching an episode of One Piece, draw a character or a scene from the episode. This way I can improve as an artist and get art on this blog.

Finally, I would like to have my work looked over by my partner to ensure its quality. While I don’t care a lot for grammar mistakes, it is beneficial for me and this blog if it’s coherent. More than anything I just want to share my hobbies with them (:3c).

7.) Before posting a blog post I need to make sure it is edited.

So that’s my August update. I hope these new rules and adding some limitations will help me resume this blog and get me out of Syrup Village.

Written by @exdbonanote

Edited by @unyanizedcatboys

#One Piece #The Journey of Watching One Piece

[xeilon]

This is a little personal but I'm starting my matura exams today wich in my country is basically The Exams, if you do great you get accepted to the college you would like to go to, if you don't then you're fucked. (You can redo it but for some reason noone mentions this in school and you have to find out on your own wich sucks and puts a lot of pressure on ppl.)

Anyway i just had to do/write something before i go crazy cuz it starts at 9am and i'm already in front of the class and it's only 7:37.

So here's how this shit goes

Day 1:

Hungarian grammar and literature

First we've got an hour and a half to do like 8-10 pages of reading. There's a text we read it, there are 8-10 pages of tasks to it. We do it. We also write a 200 words reasoning about some topic that literally noone cares about.

And then we've got 2,5 hours to write around 3 pages about a novel or 2 poems.

This is what i'm gonna be doing today. This is still kinda chill, it's "just" overanalyzing some random text and then writing it down. Tomorrow is math and the next is history. After that English as my choosen foreign language. Actually almost everything is chill but history. For me at least.

This post is a mess.

Anyway. Ignore me pls.

I think i'm gonna post on shit the day it happens bc it kida helps calm down / it's harder to panic while you try to write on another language.

#personal #i'm ready for a mental breakdown #day 2: Math 😀 #day 3: History 💀 #sweet sweet dying hungary #matura exam #day 4: English 👀

[raging-fan-human]

Skip this post if you don't want to read my rambling in regards to this relationship I'm in. I'm feeling horrible and jealous, and horrible that I feel jealous and I think this may constitute labeling me as a bad person, so more on that below the cut

I'm crazy, right? I'm in this relationship thing right now. We haven't put a label on it, but we have confirmed that we are exclusive. (Thanks to a minor freak out that I had) we both made it clear that neither of us are seeing other people. The thing is: he used to date someone who I'm not very close friends with, but we know enough about each other and we take a lot of the same classes and are in the same clubs, so we talk a bit. We were closer friends at the beginning of last fall before I found my main group. Anyways. This guy I'm with (let's call him E) used to date this person I know (let's call them J). E told me they broke up and it was messy. I don't know how long ago, but it was recent enough that J still had a few things left at E's apartment. I don't know the specifics, but there was an assault committed at some point by J. I don't feel it's my place to ask, so I'm not getting into it. I am pretty good friends with J's roommate who recognized E when I showed her a picture of him and said she thought J was friends with him. Anyways, I'm not sure if they're friends still. All common sense tells me they wouldn't be just based on what little info I do have about the breakup. And all of this just boils down to me feeling horrible about feeling a little jealous. Like, I would prefer not to use the word jealous, but it's really the only word I can think of to describe this. E just sent me a selfie with J and told me that he took them to the hospital because J didn't have a ride and was having one of their lung episodes. And I feel horrible. Absolutely horrible that I feel even just a little upset and suspicious about this. For further context, E lives and goes to school an hour away from us. I don't know why he would've been near enough to give J a ride to the hospital in such a timely manner at 10 o'clock at night. God, I wish I didn't feel this way. Like, I know I would've done the same thing for someone, even if we didn't end things on great terms. But my brain just keeps over analyzing the fact that he was close enough to pick them up before things could get worse and still make it to the hospital in such a short amount of time. Like, I know J knows people here with cars. And I understand the whole comfort aspect of things, but people at our school have given J rides to the hospital when this has happened before. Fuck, I feel horrible for feeling upset about this. I'm not even sure I'm upset. But I know that I keep overanalyzing everything and it's making this uncomfortable and hot weight settle in my chest. I shouldn't feel this way about E helping someone out. Like, it's a serious fucking situation. And I feel so bad for feeling this way.

#I think I'm crazy #and this might make me a bad person #and i feel bad for feeling any sort of way about this other than concerned #i am concerned about j's wellbeing #ive seen this happen to them before #and i care about them #i just cant stop overthinking every tiny detail about this entire situation that i know to be true