#i love numbered lists but i really should stop using them in my posts because i always end up adding extra stuff at the end 😭

[hedgehog-moss]

Last Sunday in October, a story in five parts :)

i. The guy who owns the pasture next to mine took his cows back to their winter lodgings the other day, and told me I could let my llamas eat what was left of the grass if I wanted. That was sweet of him but his pasture's fence is cow-proof, not llama-proof, so I had to wait for a sunny day, so I could sit with a book nearby and keep an eye on the llamas Pampe. Today was the day!

Pampy looked happy about this unexpected change of scenery and started grazing peacefully, meanwhile Pampe started with exploring the whole pasture, including the patch of woods at the back, hoping to find a flaw in the fence.

(Note Poldine below, desperately running after her mum so she won't be left behind if Pampe does find an opportunity to escape)

ii. I found some impressive coulemelles in this new pasture (I don't know any mushroom names in English sorry.) I cut one to take to the pharmacy and ask if they're the good kind (here with my hand for scale)

They're also known as nez de chat, cat's nose mushrooms, in some regions...

I found some girolles nearby last year, but not this time. The llamas seemed to be on their best behaviour so I thought after lunch I'd go look for mushrooms farther away in the woods, down by the torrent, instead of watching them all day.

Poldine, watch your mother.

I asked Merricat if she was volunteering her services as a llama-sitter (it looked like it)

—but she suspected I was going home where the fire is, so she followed me. (I don't make a fire on sunny afternoons, though... she had to nap in my cardigan instead. Not as good, but a tolerated second-best option.)

iii. I took Pan with me after lunch so he wouldn't encourage Pampe in mischief, and he was uncharacteristically audacious in his frolicking! He doesn't like water and he's usually quite prudent when we're near the torrent, even scolding me if I climb on mossy rocks, but today he was jumping from one slippery rock to the other very boldly.

As I was taking this nice waterfall photo, I heard a very dramatic high-pitched squeal followed by a dramatic splashing sound, and when I turned around Pandolf was dragging himself out of the torrent, looking, as we say in french, honteux et confus.

I'm sorry that his bout of audacious frolicking had to end this way :( Back to frolicking gingerly for at least a couple of years... (His fur is magical though, he looks like a drowned rat at first but then shakes himself twice and is immediately back to a normal volume of floof. So his dignity doesn't suffer for long, at least.)

iv. I found no mushrooms but something even better!

I love chestnuts so much, I've been hoping to find chestnut trees for years but was starting to think they just don't grow at this altitude... But I suck at identifying trees so it's very possible I walked past them dozens of times and never recognised them when it wasn't chestnut season.

You really have to earn every chestnut, even with the crushing-under-your-boot method to squeeze them out you still have to extricate them from their burr going ow ow ow the whole time. The worst thing is when you kill your fingers opening a reticent burr and it resentfully spits out a bunch of sad deflated worthless chestnuts.

Still, I ended up going home with chestnuts in every single one of my pockets. When we got out of the woods and back on the road Pandolf and I ran into a woman we don't know (so, not a close neighbour) and we started talking about foraging and I wondered if I should tell her about the nearby chestnut spot. But those things are private. No one told me about the chestnut spot even after I made increasingly heavy casual hints about how much I love chestnuts. After a while though I started suspecting this lady knew about the spot and was on her way there. Or on her way back, through a different path. She looked shifty. So did I. It's very possible that we were both standing there in the middle of the road with our coat pockets crammed with chestnuts, making pointedly non-chestnut-related small talk.

v. I went home and started making chestnut-pumpkin soup while dodging constant coordinated chicken attacks. At first they act like they're napping on a conveniently-nearby chair, or looking the other way, and as soon as you stop distrusting their intentions, they pounce, often from two different directions.

Side plot: Pandolf spent this whole time desperately trying to catch a cat, to restore his self-confidence after falling in the torrent.

Morille went from strolling casually on top of the fence to lounging casually in the hazel tree above my head, making it look like she hadn't even noticed she was being chased, which was very frustrating for Pandolf. Nothing wounds a dog like going unnoticed.

I told Morille it would make him happy if she let him catch her, and she was like eh, fine, and elegantly jumped from the hazel tree to the top of the stone wall.

Pandolf immediately followed, poked her a bit brutally with his big nose, and then he didn't know what else to do with her once he caught her so he just wagged his tail like "Well played, cat!! It was nice chasing you" and left.

v. bis (or ter) I want to reassure Pirlouit fans (who might have noticed that he wasn't allowed to graze in the neighbour's pasture with the llamas) that he knows he's entitled to fair compensation as a donkey, and he stood behind the fence the whole time I was preparing my soup, patiently waiting for his pumpkin benefits. Which he did get.

I found some leftover chestnuts in my trouser pocket tonight, that I'd forgotten about, so I'm having stove-roasted chestnuts for dessert after the chestnut soup! Chestnuts were 90% of my dinner and were also the reason Pandolf got dinner. I ran out of dog kibble and I was thinking of giving him a hard-boiled egg and some rice tonight, and go buy kibble tomorrow, but on our way back this afternoon we stopped by our closest neighbour's house and I humbly offered a handful of chestnuts in exchange for one serving of kibble. The neighbour's dog didn't look enchanted with our offer but his human agreed. I usually trade with my chicken's eggs but this woman has hens so I'm glad chestnuts are also accepted as valid currency.

#crawling along #i love numbered lists but i really should stop using them in my posts because i always end up adding extra stuff at the end 😭

[sailoryooons]

Mine | One Shot | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x Succubus F. Reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

☾ Word Count: 14,864

☾ Genre: Smut, Horror, Thriller

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Buckle up bitches this list of warnings is going to exhaust even me. Overall creepiness, descriptions of liminal spaces, tons of mentions of subspace-like trances, Yoongi's mind is not always his own, unexplained happenings, Yoongi being manipulated subtly, written jump scares (like three of them?), nightmares, hallucinations, the cutest and also creepiest fucking little succubus you'll ever see, Succy (succubus reader) really likes Tokyo Ghoul that should be a hint, hints at eating raw meat (bleh), Yoongi turning against his friends, Yoongi feeling sick/depressed in a couple of scenes, Yoongi is literally addicted to eating reader out soiejijrghij, explicit sexual content including, spit play, nipple play, oral (f. and m. receiving), grinding, unprotected sex in multiple positions, cum eating, switch dynamics between the two of them often, subspace mentions, fingering, ass play (m. receiving), just.... so many bodily fluids all the time, mentions of animal death (it is a cat and it's dead body is briefly described), a lot of confusion and pace changes as a style choice, Succy is literally obsessed with Yoongi so a lot of the pet name Kitty, very cringe behavior for some rando Yoongi met at a bar, ambiguous ending. I think that covers it idk this is almost 15k of pure nightmare fuel I will send you my therapists number alright

☾ Published: October 30, 2022

☾ A/N: If I have to write this authors note one more time because 'a wild tumbeast ate my fucking post I will scream. Do better Tumblr please stop eating my content over and over lmao. ANYWAY. SURPRISE THIS IS HERE A DAY EARLY. I have zero self-control and @gimmethatagustd told me to post it now so I really said fuck it we ball. I didn't use a beta for this one because I'm insane but I did edit it myself.... so if you see errors..... no you didn't. This one was so much fun to write and I hope you all love Succy as much as I do. She deserves the world she is very... scary and cute. 

HAPPY HALIWEEN!!!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask

Friday nights are spent blowing off steam from work with friends. Yoongi has always lived a simple life, and he likes his Fridays like this: second person to the bar after Taehyung, a quick shot of whisky to take the edge off the day, followed by a whiskey neat and some fries from the kitchen that will still be a little unthawed in the middle. 

Yoongi loves his Fridays at Serendipity. 

The name is a bit of a joke, Jimin says. He inherited the old, rundown bar under another name from his abusive father after he passed away. Mysterious circumstances, the long-term patrons mutter into darkened ale and frosted mugs. Still, they come despite Jimin flipping the name. It was the only thing Jimin could afford to flip, the floors still the same sticky concrete that collect vomit, spilled beer, whiskey, and perhaps a little piss.

It's an ugly thing, with the vinyl stool covers splitting open to reveal guts of yellow foam, and countertops that need another layer of lacquer to fight the chipping from heavy mugs being slammed down every time Seokjin gets into an argument with one of the regulars. Yoongi tries to avoid the bathroom as much as he can. Jimin spent two weeks cleaning it and stocking it with a nice care basket with sprays, cotton rounds, and other products, only to have someone puke in it on the first night.

Yoongi doesn’t care that Jimin named the bar as a bit of an inside joke. Yoongi knows in his heart of hearts when he sees you that this moment is serendipitous.

Because when Yoongi sees you for the first time, the world ends.

Not really. But it feels that way the moment he turns at the bar. Perhaps he’s meant to see you – or perhaps it was by your design. He tilts backward when the door opens, searching for any sign of Seokjin who said he would be there in a few minutes.

And there you are.

Lights dim. The world takes on a muted feeling, like the two of you exist between murky, brackish water with something lurking just beyond the clouded space that he can’t quite make out. The roaring voices of the bar fade softly into the background until it’s just a buzz of pressure between Yoongi’s ears - or maybe that’s not right. Maybe it’s the buzzing pressure of awareness pressing on his spine and eardrums. 

It isn’t pleasant but it’s not… uncomfortable. 

It’s impossible to look away from you. He tries - tries to remember where he is. A bar, perhaps? Not this weird, opaque space where the only thing he can make out is the rogue on your lips, a spark in your eye, and the way you walk forward. No. Walk isn’t the right word. Glide might be more appropriate, he thinks. 

As you near him, Yoongi breathes in sharply. Something like cedar mixed with jasmine and amber makes his head spin. The world tilts and Yoongi begins to slide on its new axis until suddenly, the mist surrounding him shatters as his foot comes into contact with the ground, knee buckling under his weight as his hand flies to the bar to hold himself up.

He fell off of his stool.

Yoongi almost doesn’t believe it, except Taehyung is laughing so hard next to him that Yoongi flushes furiously. He slides back onto the stool, brows furrowed and head ducked down to hide his rapidly glowing red ears and face from you.

But then you speak, and Yoongi cannot fight the urge to look at you once more. It’s an instinct pulling him from blushing furiously in his lap to stare at you.

“Hi,” you murmur. Yoongi is a fish out of water, mouth parted slightly, heart racing. Jasmine. Cedar. Amber. It’s all he can smell. His head swims, mind foggy as he tries to string together words. “Is this seat next to you taken? It’s the only one empty.”

Is it? Yoongi can’t tear his eyes from you, but he could swear Old Ass Han had been sitting there before you walked in.

Old Ass Han is the least annoying of Jimin’s customers and sometimes Yoongi doesn’t mind when Old Ass Han rambles about his late wife. Yoongi has no idea how old Old Ass Han is, he just knows that he was ancient even when Yoongi studied as a high school student tucked in the far corner of the bar.

“Um, yes?” Yoongi says and it comes out like a question.

You grin at him and the world ends a second time.

Pleasure-laced fear shoots down his spine. Your teeth are white and straight, but he swears for a split second they were razor sharp. He shakes his head, dispelling a little of the floating feeling as he says, “Of course. Yes. Please sit.”

Yoongi holds his breath and averts his eyes as you slide onto the stool next to him.

It’s suddenly too loud in the bar, a cacophony of voices and chairs scraping against concrete. Yoongi can still smell you, making the world rotate awkwardly as he spins on his stool to find Taehyung staring at him, brows raise and barely concealing his laughter.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you fumble like that,” Taehyung murmurs. He loses control of his laughter and tries to hide it in his cup of cider. Yoongi flushes and angrily stares into his whiskey, hyperaware of you leaning on the bar to call the bartender’s attention. “I mean – she is – holy shit I never believed in faeries or witches before but there's no way she’s human.”

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth. He tries to find a response to Taehyung, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and something tingles along every hair on his arm and neck, a sense of awareness as you lean on the bar, speaking to the bartender.

Again, your voice haunts Yoongi in a matter of seconds. He feels the need to turn and look at you again, but he doesn’t want to be weird. He’s already fallen off the stool once, and he doesn’t plan on further exacerbating his humiliation.

So, Yoongi remains facing Taehyung. Clutches his whiskey glass with shaking hands. Tries to take a breath – it comes out shaky – to calm himself. He has no idea what kind of delirium is threatening him every moment you’re next to him, but he wants to fight it - tries to fight it.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung’s brows twitch, mouth pouting. He ducks his head slightly, trying to find Yoongi’s gaze, but the older keeps his eyes fixed on the wood grain bar. Yoongi wants to look at you again. So bad. Wants to ask you your name. Wants to memorize the curves of your mouth. Wants to memorize every stroke of color in your eyes.

Want want want want.

A sudden throb pulses in Yoongi. He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he feels it bloom inside of him, unfurling with warm petals of want want want want.

The urge to turn and look at you gets stronger.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –

Yoongi grits his teeth. Feels pressure at the back of his head, like there are featherlight fingers pressing into the base of his skull to urge him to turn around and look at you again. His muscles constrict and he feels himself start to turn, hips beginning to swivel in your direction, arms rigidly placed on the bar as if to fight his lower half.

When he doesn’t turn to look at you, Yoongi swears he imagines the light press of fingers turning into a steel grip. His eyes start to water and he clenches his teeth, feeling an immovable force on him pulling, dragging, tearing - and he lets out a small gasp, the grip on him so strong that he -

“Yoongi,” Taehyung says again, voice firmer. Yoongi looks up this time, eyes soft and round, face flushed. There’s a little sweat collected on his brow, and Yoongi feels a dull throb at the back of his head like a fading migraine. “What’s wrong?”

“Um-“ he cuts himself off and clears his throat. The pressure on his head is gone, but the menthol-cool, awareness of you is not. “Maybe too much to drink? It’s been a stressful week, I think I knocked these back too quickly.

“You do look sort of flushed.” Taehyung raises his brows. “Maybe water?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Water, please.”

Taehyung asks for water when the bartender returns with your drink. Yoongi doesn’t look at you, though he can see from the corner of his eye you’re looking at him. He grits his teeth and stares at the mismatched, colored bottles behind the bar. None of its top-shelf – Jimin certainly cannot afford it – but it doesn’t need to be.

A glass of water appears in front of Yoongi in time for Seokjin’s arrival. The pressure in Yoongi’s skull doesn’t return, and the tingling along his nerves like an electric current dies down a little. He still feels shaken as he sips the water, freeing up the dry feeling on his tongue.

Seokjin nestles between Yoongi and Taehyung, ordering himself a drink. Jimin appears around the bar this time, finally done with his bookkeeping in the back, and slides a beer over to Seokjin. Yoongi watches the way Jimin smiles at them before his attention falters and slides to you sitting next to Yoongi, making Jimin blink rapidly a few times.

Irrational irritation flares in Yoongi for a split second. Though his attention is on his friend and watching Jimin reacts to you sitting in Old Ass Han’s place, it occurs to Yoongi that he doesn’t want anyone else to compete with him.

Not that he stands a chance. But for once in his life, Yoongi wouldn’t mind being the one to take someone home. Why can’t it be him? He saw you first. You’re sitting next to him.

Just as Jimin’s eyes glitter, turning to half-moons as he smiles at you, Yoongi spins in the chair, giving you his full attention. Your eyes turn to meet his and Yoongi is falling into them, no end in sight.

“Hi again,” you greet, voice velvet. “You have pretty eyes.”

“All right, hyung,” Jimin murmurs. Yoongi isn’t looking at Jimin, but he can hear the smirk in his voice as Jimin retreats to their friends.

“Thanks,” Yoongi murmurs. He allows himself to drink you in. His head begins to buzz like he’s had too much whiskey, his tongue heavy and cotton-fuzzed in his mouth. “You have a pretty… everything.”

You have to know how beautiful you are. A deity beneath silk-smooth skin. But you duck your head, a shy giggle leaving your lips. You have the decency to look shy, averting your eyes, lip tucked between teeth.

Perhaps later Yoongi will be embarrassed by the honesty. But right now, it’s all he can do to keep his heart rate normal. You are incredible to look at. Taehyung was right – perhaps not human.

An unnatural glow hums under your skin. Your eyes are vivid, drinking him in with a spark that Yoongi swears echoes a deep flame in the pit of his stomach. He wrestles with himself, his hands fighting a magnetic pull to reach over and brush his fingers across the canvas of your skin.

Yoongi won’t be able to stop if he touches you. His thoughts repulse him – you’re a stranger. Someone he doesn’t know. Someone his mind is begging to violate. He fists his pants, flexing the muscles of his hands and willing the strange pull toward you to go away.

He doesn’t even know your name and Yoongi feels like Pandora, watching you with coveted desire and shaking, greedy hands. Fuck he wants to pry you open and see what treasure lurks beneath the surface.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. You stir a beverage straw in your drink – an Old Fashioned. His lips twitch in a smile at your taste in drinks as he offers you his name. “Yoongi,” you repeat back. The way his name melts in your mouth like sugar entices him. “Cute. You’re cute.”

Yoongi flashes you a shy smile, echoing yours. You share a laugh, his rough and scratchy as he chews the inside of his cheek nervously, yours light and floating. It echoes in his ears and Yoongi loses his sense of self, thoughts drug-laced with only you.

And then your lips are on him and once again, Yoongi swears the world around him has fallen to destruction.

It’s hard to remember the order of events. Yoongi doesn’t care. Your mouth is sugar-sweet and hungry, licking into Yoongi’s open-mouthed kisses as he presses you against something firm. He wants to melt into you, your skin like fire under his seeking hands, your breath delicate and soft against the empty air of what he thinks is his apartment as his lips attached to your neck.

Even your skin tastes sugared. A delicacy for him. For his mouth only.

Mine. The word echoes across his mind, but not in is own voice. 

You writhe underneath Yoongi’s hands. He squeezes the flesh of your lips, tongue snaking out to lick a broad stripe of skin up your neck. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging slightly, just enough to make him groan against your skin.

Yoongi is painfully hard. His cock throbs in his pants, the material restrictive and making the ache so much worse. He grinds his hips against yours, mouth sucking viciously at your collarbone, the top of your cleavage, anywhere he can taste you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head thudding against the wall behind you. Panting, you hike up one of your legs, wrapping it against his waist to pull him in tighter to you. Yoongi whines as you connect your mouths again, tongue and teeth, and spit as you grind against him. “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Have me,” he mumbles sucking your tongue into his mouth. You moan, deep in your chest. He swears for a second it’s like a growl. Thinks nothing of it. Just pushes against you hard, cock pulsing. “Whatever you want.”

“Please.”

Yoongi never wants to hear you beg again. Or maybe he doesn’t want you to stop begging. He can’t make up his mind as he pulls you toward a room – his room. Yes, you’re both in his apartment. That’s his slate grey couch that you’re stumbling past and that’s his sheets that you fall backward against.

Licking his lips, Yoongi takes a moment to look down at you. You’re splayed out for him, unfurling in his sheets. He knows tomorrow morning they’ll still smell like you – jasmine, cedar, amber. You look divine, a flower unfolding delicate petals, open for him.

Only for him. Mine. 

You wrap your legs around Yoongi, pulling him flush to the edge of the bed. You release him and press your feet to the bed, knees resting against his hips. You blink at him through fluttering lashes and starry eyes. He’s never seen anything like you. He never will again. He knows it.  

“God damn you’re beautiful,” Yoongi murmurs, the words slipping through his lips, unrelenting.

The stars in your eyes vanish. Yoongi recoils, seeing the fathomless black threatening to eat him alive. He begins to pull away, terror shooting through his chest, sharp and angry. You squeeze your knees against his hips, nearly shattering him. Your mouth is a gash of red with rows and rows of black teeth, churning and churning.

“Don’t speak his name here,” you hiss, words slithering in layers of many different voices. “Never again.”

Yoongi blinks and you’re blushing as you look up at him, knees splayed like butterfly wings, open for him. Just for him. He smiles at the way you giggle and hide behind a hand. “You’re so sweet.”

“You are beautiful. I swear it.”

“Touch me.” Your voice drips honey-sweet on his senses. “I want to feel you, Yoongi. Please.”

There is a prickling sensation like fear at the base of his spine but Yoongi can’t remember why as he smiles at you lazily, dipping down between your legs. He props himself above you, hands planted on the mattress on either side of your head to cage you in.

“Ask me again.”

“Please. Please please please-“

Yoongi swallows your begging tongue first, delving into your luscious mouth.

It’s been a long time since he’s been in his room like this with a partner, much less with someone who looks the way you do, but Yoongi’s hands are confident as they sweep up your sides, pulling the fabric of your shirt up with his hands as they go. You lean upward, letting him pull it off you before it flies from his hand somewhere in the room.

The lights are off in his room, but a silver shaft of moonlight spills through the window to paint you silver. Your eyes reflect the light as you drink him in, his hands brushing up your arms, warming your skin as he traces them to your tits, palming them generously over your bra.

A sigh escapes through your parted lips, red lipstick smeared artfully from the clash of mouths and tongues. He dips back down, tongue hungry for your sugar-warm taste and the liquid heat of your mouth.

Yoongi is dizzy. He’s a little off balance as he breathes you in. Your fingers pull through the strands of his hair, hips canting upward as he reaches around to unclasp your bra, peeling the unwanted layer from you.

Heated, shameless eyes meet his. You tilt your chest toward him, eager for his mouth. He doesn’t miss a beat, placing wet kisses over the tops of your breasts, more tongue and spit than lips, leaving a slick trail to your right nipple. Yoongi’s mouth is possessive, sucking your pert but between his lips and flicking it lightly with his tongue, looking up where your lips part in the moonlight to let out a soft moan.

It spurs him further, plucking your nipple with his teeth, pulling any sound he can from you. He gets a loud whine then and you wiggle your hips under the weight of where his waist is pressed into yours. Grinning, Yoongi repeats the motion, giving a generous suck before pulling away with his teeth, gentling scrapping your peak.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Feels so good.”

Yoongi trails chaste kisses from one nipple to the other, giving it the same attention. He snakes a hand down your body, fingers dancing across heated skin to pull at the zipper on your jeans. His hands tremble, making it difficult to free the first button.

Reluctantly, Yoongi pulls his mouth away from your breast, a glossy strand of spit connecting his mouth to your swollen skin as he looks down, using both hands to pop the button on your pants and tug violently at them.

“These jeans are the fucking devil.”

“Yes,” you murmur, so quietly that he can barely hear you. He gets them to your ankle, yanking one more time and tossing them. He loses your hushed words in the rustle of clothes hitting the floor when you whisper, “I am.”

“Hmm?” he asks.

You silence his question by pulling his shirt over his head, leaning to capture his exposed chest with your tongue and teeth. Yoongi stands between your legs, head falling tilting toward the heavens at the worship of your mouth.

Deep groans leave his mouth. You bite more than you kiss, but Yoongi likes the way your mouth leaves a trail of little teeth marks, your mouth pinching his flesh before your tongue soothes it. You have him trembling, nearly making him double over as your hand presses over his clothed cock firmly, applying the pressure he needs.

It’s not enough.

Every part of Yoongi feels exposed. Even half dressed, the world is brushing against him raw, every touch of your hands like pleasure and torture, every fan of your breath like the coldest breeze on a hot summer day.

None of the sensations make sense but he feels high – higher than that time he and Jimin took shrooms at that one festival in college where the lights had whispered secrets of the forest to Yoongi and where he had tasted something beyond what he could describe.

But under your carnal touch, Yoongi knows that is nothing compared to this. Nothing compares to the way you work his jeans down to his midthigh, too impatient for him to kick out of them before you’re dipping a hand in his briefs and taking his cock into your hand.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi gasps, nearly toppling backward. Your grip is firm, strokes deft and confident and oh my god he might come like this.

You lean up to teeth at the pulse point of his neck as your tongue darts out to take a firm lick. “There is nothing holy about me, Min Yoongi,” you murmur against his neck. He shivers, eyes rolling behind closed lids as you speak. He can feel the trace of your incisors, sharper than he remembers against his skin.

Stars dance behind his eyes. You pull your hand away from his cock, making him protest. You hush him with a bite against his shoulder, sharp enough that he thinks you break skin. He doesn’t open his eyes, letting his world sweep from under his feet as you turn him and knock him onto the bed.

When the feeling of spinning stops a little, he blinks his eyes open to help you peel his clothes the rest of the way off. You’re fully naked and Yoongi doesn’t know where to keep his eyes. The swells of your breasts, marked with bite marks and spit from his mouth, the curves of your stomach and waist as you climb atop him, predatory and eager, or the glistening slick of your thighs where you’re dripping for him.

“Come here,” he demands. He’s dying to have you on his tongue, knows you’ll taste saccharine. He grabs your thighs harder than necessary, zeroing in on your pussy as he pulls you toward his mouth. “Wanna fucking taste. Bet you’re fucking delicious.”

You hum in delight, a lethal smile on your face as you crawl up to where he wants you, knees firmly on either side of his head. Yoongi lets out an appreciative noise. Your cunt is sticky and glossy for him, the perfect meal.

With gentle fingers, he parts your folds gently to reveal your slick, clenching hole and needy clit. Yoongi is eager, a finger trailing up and down your warm slit as he lets out a moan.

“Fucking wet,” he whispers before leaning up for a long, slow lick.

Stars explode behind his eyes. He hums in delight, shivering at the taste of you, heady on his tongue. He repeats the motion a few times, flattening his tongue for a slow-drag, appreciative lick up your cunt. He feels the way you drip into his mouth, spill on his chin and he can’t help but curse, at how addictive this feels.

You moan when he dips his tongue into your entrance, gathering your essence on the tip of his tongue before he drags it soft-slow up to your clit, circling your bundle of nerves lazily. Yoongi pulls your clit into his mouth with gentle lips, feeling the way it pulses as he sucks gently.

The sounds you make above him spur him further. He alternates between sucking your clit delicately and butterfly-soft tongue flutters, watching your mouth go slack as you watch him. The more you drip into his eager mouth, the greedier Yoongi gets, fastening his entire mouth on you and sucking harshly.

It becomes sloppy and imprecise. Yoongi can’t decide where he wants his mouth most. He can’t remember ever feeling this lightheaded from oral, much less giving. But he’s starstruck under you, sucking and sucking and sucking – fuck he doesn’t know if he’s even taking breaths.

“Feels so fucking good,” you whisper, a hand going to knot in his hair. His scalp tingles pleasantly where you hold onto him, his eyes fluttering shut. Your hips move slowly over his face. “Fuck keep going.”

Pride swells in his chest. Your voice is airy, breaths short and stilted and overwhelmed as he eats you vigorously. His fingers dimple your skin, pressing into the meat of your ass as he rocks you on his tongue, jaw slack, tongue flat for you to let you fuck yourself on his face the way you want.

Yoongi feels you drip down his face, hears the wet-smack of his mouth against your cunt. He moans. Buries his face further, letting you grind yourself on his nose, chin, mouth lips, anything. He doesn’t care, sticky-coated to the jaw, so fucked out from pleasing you that he almost blacks out when you cum.

Something happens.

He doesn’t know how to describe it – it’s like for a moment, everything goes dark. Perhaps he does blackout. Perhaps he wasn’t breathing. He can’t remember. All he knows is that between one heartbeat and the next, there’s a moment of pure darkness accompanied by a laugh that chills his spine.

And then your mouth is on him, spit and cum making the glide of your mouths sticky-sweet.

Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth, pressing his fingers gently to the back of your head, pulling you closer closer closer. He just wants you closer, his stomach burning with a sudden hunger for you. He feels on fire, skin too-warm where your chest slides against his, sweaty and flushed.

Sheets stick to every part of him. He’s aware of the sweat that slides down his neck, a cool finger of relief as you press him further and further into the mattress. He feels like he’s sinking, entering a new domain where he’s no longer in his room – he's just with you. Somewhere. Anywhere.

Your fingers claw at his hair, pulling the strands to pin him to the mattress as you lift yourself, looking down at Yoongi. He blinks, stars in his eyes as he starts up at you, looming. Glowing. Beautiful. His hands are on your hips, a sparking current humming just beneath the surface of your skin.

You feel alive and vibrant.

A moan escapes Yoongi’s mouth, pleasure rolling through him as you grind your cunt on his throbbing cock, warm and wet. His eyes flutter, Yoongi squirming under you, legs kicking and twitching as you tease him. Just the glide of you on his shaft makes him shiver, the pit of his stomach clenching.

“Please,” Yoongi rasps. His fingers dig into your hips, begging. Pleading. Desperate. “Please please please please.”

“You look so pretty when you beg.” Your grinding increases and the room spins. His hands fall from your hips to the sheets, fingers fisted tightly in the fabric. “You’re so beautiful, Yoongi. My Yoongi. Mine. Mine mine mine.”

Your words are lost on him. There’s only the firm touch of your hand against his cock, gripped tight at the base as you lift yourself. He feels his cockhead catch on your swollen entrance and he lets out a strangled noise. He doesn’t know if he can stop himself from cumming. He is bursting at the seams with heat, an inferno so intense he swears that the world catches fire as you slide down his cock, warm and tight.

“Shiiit,” Yoongi hisses. He takes a deep breath and holds it, hips twitching where you straddle his waist, letting him suffer beneath you.

“Feels good.” You lean forward, hands pressed to his chest to support your weight. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open. He blinks at you through wet lashes. The room is so dark he can only make out the barest features on your face, but he sees your eyes clearly. Looking at him. Watching. Hungry. “So good,” you repeat. “So fucking deep.”

Nails bite into the skin of his chest. He feels his skin smart. The hot bead of blood that forms. He doesn’t care, watching as slowly, you lift your hips, your walls hugging every inch of Yoongi. He lets out a shaky breath, hands settling on your waist. He plants his feet in the bed, angling himself better as you reach the tip of his cock before sinking back down.

Heaven and hell. Yoongi wavers between both, gritting his teeth to keep from coming, to keep the feeling of you gripping him tight going. He doesn’t want it to end, it feels so good but it’s wonderful agony, fighting the curl in his stomach, the twitching of his abs, the threat of exploding.

Yoongi's eyes are drawn to where you fuck yourself on him, sticky arousal turning silver in the single shaft of moonlight that spills across the bed where you’re joined. He can’t look away, entranced by the wet smack of your ass on his thighs, the way you just fucking take him.

It lights a fire in him more intensely than the solar flare that threatens to send him spinning into his orgasm. Yoongi growls, digging his nails into your skin, half-moons on smooth flesh as he grits his teeth and fucks up into you. You gasp, nails raking down his chest as he jostles you. His breath comes out as stilted hisses behind clenched teeth.

“Touch yourself for me,” he grits out. “Wanna feel you come all over me – please.”

“Gonna,” you pant, head falling to his chest, claws leaving pink lines on pale flesh. You slide one hand down his body, making him groan as he fucks you with abandon. You gasp, hand working your clit between your writhing bodies. “Gonna come.”

“Please - for me.” He thrusts hard, thighs trembling with the effort, holding his breath as his muscles squeeze. He can feel you tense, pussy clenching so tight he curses and stops, letting you pulse around him as you moan and an unintelligible string of curses that sounds... like another language. “Fuck, just like that.”

Yoongi feels himself come apart. His universe shatters and he floats among the stars. Weightless. Happy. Tired. He feels nothing and everything, a soft frequency of... something dancing along his skin. A soft buzz. Pleasant and warm.

He doesn’t know how long he exists in that space. He can still smell notes of cedar, jasmine and amber. It's stronger now, with a touch of something else... something burning. He leans into the smell and it wraps around him, soft hands around his middle and petal-soft lips against his cheek.

Yoongi becomes vaguely aware that it’s you curled into his side, nose hidden in his neck, chest rising and falling against his arm. It grounds him a little. Brings him back into a dark room that is too obscure to be sure it’s his bedroom at all.

As he drifts off into sleep, he remembers the feeling of your tongue against his neck and nothing more. 

-

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

It wakes Yoongi up. His stomach feels empty. His hands seek your warmth, palming your ass, pulling your hips flush to his. He doesn’t open his eyes, content to feel your heat. Again, something like electricity thrums under your skin, tickling his wandering hands.

Your mouth catches his. Pulls him further from sleep. He feels his skin ache from your teeth and nails the night before. Feels the weight of something inside of him that wasn’t there before, although he cannot put into words what it is.

Even in the morning, your mouth is sweet. Gluttonous. You suck his bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling softly followed by a light giggle. He smiles into the next kiss, sloppy and filled with too much tongue but he lets you taste him.

Yoongi swears there is an echo of your taste from the night before. It’s enough to kickstart desire in him, detaching his mouth to plant kisses down your neck. Chest. Stomach. His tongue licks a trail down your velvet skin.

In a shuffle of sheets and skin, you lay back for him, pliant. He’s awake now, pressing your thighs open, teeth nipping the tender flesh. You giggle and the sound makes him pause, lips pressed to your leg, eyes looking up at you in the dim light of the morning. Or night. It’s hard to tell what time it is, here with you in this bed.

Glowing eyes look at him. Round. Soft. Curious. You watch Yoongi with rapt attention, lip pulled between your teeth. Spread. Eager. Ethereal.

Yoongi drops his gaze, groaning when he sees how fucking wet you are. He pulls you closer, sliding a hand under your ass to provide support. Curious, he brushes his thumb up and down your folds, collecting your essence as he does.

“So swollen and wet,” he mumbles, morning voice deep and scratchy. “You’re always so ready to be eaten, hmm?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

The new nickname makes him pause, thumb resting on your clit. He can almost feel your cunt throb under the pad of his finger as he applies a little pressure, watching you whine and kick your legs a bit. He grins.

“Kitty?” he asks as he resumes playing with you. His thumb dips into your hole, ring of muscles clenching around him. His grin spreads as he pulls it away, watching you fight with the loss.

“You have- ughhh – cat eyes. Pretty. Soft. Smart. Kitty.”

He hums, dipping his head forward to give you a single kitten lick. He shuts his eyes and sighs heavily, your taste heavy on his tongue. You taste just as good as the night before. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself. “I like it, baby.”

Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response. He presses in, tongue lapping at you hungrily, refusing to let you drip without his mouth for another moment.

-

Greedy.

You’re greedy. You always are. Yoongi isn’t sure what day it is. It might be the same night as when he brought you home or it could be the weekend or it could be next week. He somewhat remembers the taste of a meal. Some cool water. But he doesn’t recall when he made it or when he showered.

He only knows he showered because he smelled the mint soap on your skin a few moments ago when you had your mouth attached to his throat.

Now, your mouth swallows his cock whole, throat pulsing around him. He curses, fingers twisting in your hair as he listens to you choke. Feels your drool dripping down his thighs. You relent, pulling back with a slick sound. He looks down at you between half-moon eyes, lashes fluttering.

You’re a vision: bruised lips smeared in spit and cum, chin covered in slick, watery, round eyes that blink up at him, innocent despite the fact that you rub the flushed tip of his cock against your abused mouth.

“Fuck,” he swears, watching your devilish tongue snake out to lap at his dark tip. “Fucking cock hungry, huh?”

You nod your head, trailing your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, taking time to suck slopping kisses to his skin. He can’t look away, even as you pump him lazily with your small hand, ravenous little mouth sucking coyly at his balls.

His fist tights in your hair. You look up, tears spilling over rounded cheeks. You look angelic at that moment, weeping before him. He nearly busts right there.

“Does Kitty like when I do that?” You ask softly, voice almost a whisper. Your voice changes, he’s noticed. Sometimes coming out dark velvet, other times tangerine-sweet. “Am I a good girl, Kitty?”

You always call him that. He wasn’t sure about it at first, but with a mouth full of his precum and neck covered in his teeth marks, Yoongi thinks you can call him whatever the fuck you want. He’s never seen a creature so drunk off fucking him before and he’s no better. All he wants to do is fucking live in you.

“Such a good girl,” Yoongi promises. He holds your head with one hand and your chin with the other, pulling your bottom lip down with one thumb. His touch is soft and reverent. You preen for him, smiling around his thumb as he slips it in your mouth and presses on your tongue. Feels the spit and god knows what else there. “Come on, baby. Suck.”

And you do. Yoongi’s eyes roll back in his head. He falls backward on his bed and it feels like he has passed through a portal to somewhere else. He floats. All he knows is your mouth, unforgiving. Your tongue, sinful.

And when Yoongi comes down your throat, and when you pull off of him and smile at him with the slow drip of it, Yoongi feels like he’s in fucking heaven.

-

Monday he calls out of work.

Crunching numbers at an accounting firm seems like hell in comparison to where he is now. You’re bent over the kitchen counter, drooling on the granite as he slowly drags his cock through your drenched heat. He ignores the spilled glass of water next to you. Instead, he watches himself disappear deep into your cunt, collecting cream on the base of his cock every time he pulls out.

Yoongi senses you looking at him. You are, eyes intense and heavy. Your gaze shifts so often he can barely keep up – thinks maybe he imagines the way you go from soft, round-eyed sweetheart to a siren-eyed vixen.

It’s the vixen look at him now. And as though you can read his mind, you slick your tongue out of your mouth, bubble gum pink and eager, eyes dragging down to where he works himself in and out.

Yoongi pulls out slowly, running a finger along your arousal smeared along his shaft, and leans forward, thrusting in hard. You pant, tongue still out and eyes focused on his as Yoongi delicately places his cum-slick finger in your mouth. Presses your cream on your tongue.

Your lips close around his finger, tongue swirling around the digit as you shut your eyes and hollow your cheek, gently sucking your arousal until there’s nothing left.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers, in awe of you.

And you are. There’s nothing you won’t do for him. Nothing Yoongi won’t do for you. So he slams into you, deep deep deep, and grunts until you’re coming around him for what feels like the hundredth time since he’s met you.

-

Yoongi startles awake. He blinks away a dream that he immediately cannot remember. His skin is clammy and his sheets stick to him all over. He kicks them off, heart hammering as he jumps to his feet, trying to get away from the bed.

He doesn’t know why, but he feels danger near him with every slam of his heart.

For a few moments, he’s in total darkness. He can’t make out the shape of his dresser. Or the pile of clothes in the hamper. He can’t see any light filtering through the window. He knows there’s a streetlight out there – why isn’t the light streaming through his curtains?

Panic threatens to seize him. He takes a deep breath and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, rubbing fiercely. He opens them, bursts of starlight blinding him until they fade finally and he can see.

There’s a shadow in front of him, all razor teeth and red eyes.

Yoongi screams, flinching backward. He topples over and feels weightless like he’s falling through time and space. The moment of fear stretches out long – too long – and for a second he thinks he will die. His heart is beating too hard in his chest, his mind is screaming too loud, and the adrenaline threatens to crack him open and spill out on the floor.

He hits the curtain behind him and fists the fabric, ripping the entire rod and holders down backward as he goes. Streetlight pours into the room. He thrashes, blind and screaming among the now ruined curtains, the curtain rod, and drywall dust.

Yoongi frees himself, grabbing the rod to defend himself against the creature in a last-ditch effort to live.

Grey light saturates the room. There’s no shadow creature with teeth and red eyes. There’s just you in the middle of his bed, the reflection of the street light turning your doe-eyes to glowing coins. You’re in a t-shirt of his, soft and crinkled, hair messy. Lip trembling.

“Kitty?” Your voice is small. Almost childlike. “Kitty are you okay?”

The panic beat of his heart slows. He swallows down nausea and realizes his shaking, the remaining waves of adrenaline taking their toll. Yoongi lets go of the curtain rod and nods, pressing his head into the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. Throat dry. You move on the bed – more of a prowl – and you flick the lamp light on. Warmth rushes into the room and with it, relief. “Thank you.”

“What happened, Kitty?”

“A nightmare. I got up and … I don’t know. I thought I saw something.”

You sit on your knees. Hands in your lap, one palm splayed on your thigh, the other lifted toward him. Beckoning. Open. Warm. Safe. He peels himself from the wreckage by the window and walks toward you, feeling as though there is a string between you and him, tethering you to him. Reeling him in.

When Yoongi’s hand touches yours, exhaustion bleeds into him. Safe. He is safe. You smile and there are no razor teeth. Just kiss-stained lips as you shuffle backward, pulling Yoongi back into the bed.

“Come sleep, Kitty.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, he turns off the lamp. The streetlight floods his room now, but it’s comforting, the grey wash of the world enough that he can see anything creeping in the shadows.

Eventually, he falls back asleep with the slow drag of your hand back and forth across his forehead, and your mouth pressing gentle sucks to the side of his throat.

-

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi almost smiles at the pout on your face. You stand in his kitchen, brows pinched, mouth furious. You’re in another one of his shirts – there is nothing else for you to wear. His grin spreads as he comes around the counter, placing his messenger bag down.

Somehow you seem so much smaller in the daylight. Yoongi swears when you’re riding him in the early hours of the morning or when he has you on all fours fucking you deep into his mattress, you’re a force to be reckoned with. A fierce creature feeds on carnal pleasure only.  

But now in the light of day, with your bottom lip jutting out and scowling brows, Yoongi thinks there is nothing more adorable. His perfect baby. You reach out, opening and closing your hands and he laughs.

“Work,” he answers gently, pulling you toward him. You don’t fight him. You never fight him. Yoongi is always your top priority – you’ve made that obvious. He smells the cedar. Jasmine. Amber. His head swims and for a moment, he forgot what you asked.

Moments like this with your skin touching, that high-frequency current that is unfamiliar but feels so good – Yoongi forgets himself. Every time he touches you, he’s somewhere else.

His phone rings and he remembers he’s supposed to leave. “I have work.”

Your scowl gets worse. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want to be with you.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. When he pulls away, you’re almost snarling, gripping him like iron. He sighs and squeezes your hips for reassurance. “I’ll leave a little early, yeah? For you.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” Your lip wobbles and he leans forward again, nipping you. “Get some sleep. You woke me up very early this morning, hmm?”

You don’t answer, but you loosen your grip.

When he gets in the car, he sees the curtain in his living room shift and he grins. Cute.

-

Work drags. Yoongi’s in a bad mood. His coffee is extra bitter. The water tastes off. The fluorescents in his office are too bright, prompting him to turn them off. When he begins auditing his client’s monthly spending, the numbers swim on screen.

Yoongi takes his glasses off. Puts them back on. He swears that he sees symbols and that the screen glitches, flashing between letters and numbers and… something he’s unsure of. When he rubs his eyes, the screen is just numbers in an Excel sheet.

Sighing in defeat, he glances at the clock. It’s only been an hour.

“Fuck.”

He pulls his phone out, thumb hovering over the screen. Your contact information is in his phone, right? The silence in his office is deafening. It presses in on him as he stares at his phone, unseeing. Why didn’t he have your phone number? Shouldn’t a boyfriend have their-

A knock at the door startles him. He drops his phone, mumbling an apology as he bends down to get it before righting himself and looking at his director.

“How are you feeling?”

Yoongi shrugs. “A little off.”

And… it’s true. Yoongi’s head hurts suddenly, a migraine slamming on the confines of his skull. His too-bitter coffee burns in his stomach. The back of his neck feels too hot and his hands shake as he puts his phone on his desk.

“You don’t look too well. Maybe take the day?”

Yoongi nods. Sways a little when he stands up to retrieve his things and turns his computer off. On the drive home, the headache recedes a little. He grips the wheel tight, taking deep breaths as he tries to steady the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In the drive, Yoongi takes a deep breath. The pressure in his head is gone and his stomach doesn’t feel as rotten as it did twenty minutes ago. He makes a mental note to look up his symptoms when he gets inside – perhaps he has the flu. It won’t do to feel this way before his client’s quarterly financial reports are due.

Thankfully, when Yoongi steps into his house, he feels much better.

Feels fine as he drops to his knees in the entryway, tongue buried hungrily in your cunt as he presses you hard against the door, drinking in every drop. Above him, you tremble and cry, begging him never to leave again.

When you cum on his tongue, creamsicle sweet, he thinks he never will.

-

Pain shoots up Yoongi’s foot as he stubs his toe making his way to the bathroom. He can barely see in his room now that he has fixed the curtains – and put blackout ones at your request – and the floor is covered with his shoes and chargers and boxes of snacks you keep in his bedroom like a nest.

He has never in his life seen someone with an appetite for junk food like you – especially sweets.

Yoongi opens the bathroom, the gentle, white glow of the night light casting a dull halo against the whitewash walls. He glances in the mirror and his heart launches into his throat. His hand slams against the door for balance and a moment of terror bleeds him dry when he sees the shadow behind him, white teeth flashing and red eyes.

Whirling around, Yoongi’s hand shoots for the light, painfully jamming fingers against stucco. He manages to flip the switch while his heart pulses in his throat, terror working its way through him like an injection straight into his cardiovascular system.

Light spills into the room, so bright that he flinches, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them, there’s nothing. It’s just his messy room, covered in clothes, empty and half-full bottles of lube, a generous amount of junk food, and you.

Asleep. Soft against his pillows, lips parted slightly.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Yoongi chastises himself and shuts the bathroom door. A few splashes of cold water from the tap do the trick, calming him down and cooling the red splotches of anxiety blooming on his neck.

When he returns to bed, your hands seek his warmth, making grabbing motions even in sleep. He indulges you, sliding closer. Tucking you into his chest. You hum in your sleep, that vibrating feeling that lives just under your skin ever-present.

Gently you lean forward, mouth seeking as you press your lips against the soft spot under his ear. He shivers as the innocent kiss turns into a soft suckle, pulling skin between teeth your tongue pressed against his flesh. But you don’t wake up. You seem content to lay in his arms with the gentle pull of your mouth against his skin, smelling like cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

And he falls asleep, moment of terror forgotten.

-

Yoongi has a problem.

Time management was always one of his strong suits. As someone who lived an organized little life in an organized little home, he thrived on order, repetition of days, and knowing what to expect each day.

Except now Yoongi never remembers what day it is. He hardly remembers how he spends his day. But what he does remember are moments with you. Bodies against bodies. The press of his fingers in your sticky cunt. Your curious fingers, pressing into the tight rim of his ass, pulling out orgasms so deep that it takes him hours to move.

Now, you’re pressed against him on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV. He watches you and you watch the screen, completely focused on the world of Spirited Away. His lips twitch in a smile and he yawns. You snuggle closer to him, nearly attached. It’s second nature to you, to fasten yourself to him. He doesn’t mind, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

When Yoongi’s phone rings, it interrupts everything. You immediately hiss, looking toward the ringing device on the counter. He can’t remember the last time his phone rang but he begins to lift himself off of the couch.

Your fingers dig in. “Finish the movie.”

It’s a demand. He laughs as your brow pinches. “I’ll be right back, let me just see who it is.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie with me?”

Your voice has grown small again. Not the sultry purr he is used to in the middle of the night when you mouth at his cock, hard before he’s even awake. Not the demanding crack of a whip when you order him to come.

This voice is tiny, a soft thing that immediately draws him to look at you. He cradles your face, your big eyes looking at him with tears rimming them. His stomach drops and he hushes you, thumbs brushing back and forth.

“Fuck – baby why are you crying?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie, Kitty?”

“Hey, Kitty wants to watch the movie.” He croons and you pull yourself into his lap, arms going around his neck and winding in his hair. He keeps a soft grip on your face, eyes searching. That thrum is just beneath the surface, like a beating heart. “I just have to answer the phone, baby. I still want to watch the movie.”

You shake your head. “You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. But ever since he’d started working from home – wait, he works from home? He shakes the question from his thoughts, saving it for later.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. And now you sit on his lap and he hates himself for the way a tear slips down your face, turned into a diamond from the reflection of the TV.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, heart aching in his chest. He leans back. He pulls you flush against his chest. You tuck your face in his neck, your favorite spot to nuzzle and he feels the gentle tuck of your mouth, the tiny suckle of your teeth against his neck. Your comfort.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely -

He doesn’t remember. What was he thinking about? He doesn’t know.

Yoongi loops his arms around you and squeezes you tight. And his eyes flutter shut, suddenly tired and lulled to sleep by the gentle pull of your mouth on his skin.

-

“Come look at this cat,” Yoongi laughs, crouching down on the back porch. The tabby rubs itself between his legs, purring as it twists figure eights. “It’s so friendly, baby. Come say hi.”

Night sky stretches over the city. It’s colder outside – almost Halloween, maybe. Yoongi lost the calendar in his house and he only turns the computer on if he has to sign on for work, which he rarely does these days.

You peek from the door, looking at the cat rubbing its face on Yoongi’s hand. He looks up at you and smiles. You’re swimming in a sweater of his, though your legs are bare. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again – he can’t ever get enough, licking the sweetness from between your thighs only to finish by fucking himself into you until he blacks out.

The blackouts happen more after sex now.

“He’s sweet,” Yoongi promises, holding out another hand to you. “Like you.”

Tentatively, you step outside of the door. The floorboard creaks under your step, drawing the cat’s attention. It happens so fast that Yoongi falls from his crouched position, sitting abruptly on the floor. The cat lets out a terrible sound, somewhere between a horrible yowl and a hair-raising hiss.

A blur of claws and teeth, Yoongi yells as the sharp talons catch him, letting the cat go. It becomes a streak of fur and screeching, vanishing from the yard.

You rush to him, dropping down to hold his scratched hands, blood surfacing.

“No!” You look up at him, holding his hand gently to your chest. He feels the strange hum, the heartbeat that… isn’t a beating heart as much as a constant buzz. “Are you okay, Kitty? You’re hurt.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles. The fear in your eyes is heartwarming. You love him – he knows this. He feels it. “Sorry it startled you.”

-

Autumn sun beats down on Yoongi as he goes to peel logs from the stack of firewood in the backyard. As he jogs down the steps, he slows, frowning. There’s a dead tabby at the foot of the stairs, broken body and dark blood smeared underneath.

“Weird,” he mutters, rushing to get some firewood. “I’ve never seen cats here before. Poor thing.”

When he goes back inside the house, he sees you sitting on the counter. Spread. Finger tracing up and down glistening folds, swollen cunt begging for his mouth. Yoongi drops the wood. He zeros in, licking his lips as you spread your legs a little wider.

“What a perfect fucking pussy,” Yoongi grins. “That for me?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi forgets about the dead cat.

-

“I want candy.” Yoongi looks up at you, brows raised. You’re standing in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store, chewing your bottom lip as you look at him with hopeful eyes. Yoongi immediately softens. Feels his heart flutter. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” He looks up at the aisle names. “It’s three aisles over. Can you get what you want while I go back and get milk? I forgot.”

You hesitate for a moment, a moment of fear on your face. Before he can brush away your fears with a simple kiss, you take a deep breath and give him your bravest smile. He preens, proud as you give a confident nod and dart off in the direction of candy.

Yoongi is impressed by you. Leaving the house is hard for you – always has been. The two of you mostly stay inside, locked in your little world. Yoongi likes it that way. Loves knowing after dinner you’ll be nested on the couch, watching him with inquisitive eyes and asking him to put on a new show or to continue the anime you’ve been binging.

Every new experience for you brings stars to your eyes. He loves that about you – loves the way you go awestruck while watching old anime that Yoongi adores, or the way you hum and spin in circles to music he shows you.

Yoongi remembers hearing once that people live many lives. He thinks that if that’s true, you must be in your first life, curious about everything. Surprised by the world. And he gets to watch it over and over, the way you grin when something startles you or when you furiously pout because you don’t like something.

Grocery store trips are new for you. The first time, you’d been stitched to his side, refusing to separate from him. Cagey and flashing mean eyes at everyone. Now, though, Yoongi doesn’t worry as he pulls open one of the glass doors in the cold section, looking for milk.

“Yoongi?” He turns mid-reach for a carton of milk, the cold air hitting him in the face and turning his cheeks pink, glass frosting with the humidity rushing into the fridge. Taehyung is standing behind him, hands shoved into pockets. “Holy shit it is you.”

Yoongi gives Taehyung a funny smile, pulling the milk from the fridge and adding it to his cart. “Why wouldn’t it be? How are you?”

“Dude, how are you? You don’t answer anyone’s calls, I heard you started working at home from some sort of illness, and you refuse to answer your door when we come by.” Taehyung’s face is picture-perfect concern, brown eyes fixed on Yoongi, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Why can’t you tell us what’s going on? It’s been weeks.”

“What are you talking about? I talked to you two weeks ago.”

Taehyung cocks his head. His brows furrow and an unsettling feeling flips Yoongi’s stomach. He remembers the call exactly. Recites their conversation back to Taehyung, but before Yoongi can finish, his friend is shaking his head.

“We never had that conversation, Yoongi.”

Taehyung takes a step closer. Yoongi’s heart starts pounding. He remembers talking to Taehyung. He had been standing in the kitchen when his phone rang, and you had handed him his phone. Yoongi remembers because he had been half-paying attention to the conversation, transfixed by the way your eyes caught the light and the way you watched him catch up with Taehyung.

But… another thought swirls in Yoongi’s mind. A vision of you slamming the phone down on the counter, shattering it. Yoongi begging you to stop – stop something ­– and then your soft lips on him.

He shakes his head, setting the thoughts free.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asks, moving past his cart to get closer. Yoongi backs up. He doesn’t know why, but it’s automatic. He feels panic surge as Taehyung pauses. “Are you sick or-“

Maybe he is. Yoongi knows he talked to Taehyung and yet… doubt wiggles into his mind. Eats at it like a worm. There feels like there is a box somewhere tucked in the recesses of his memory, shielded and without a key. If he applies pressure on it, he gets a headache.

Licking his lips, Yoongi places his trembling hands on the cart. Looks at Taehyung. Sees the pleading in his friend’s eyes. Yoongi opens his mouth to ask when Taehyung thinks they last spoke and -

“Kitty?”

Your soft voice cuts the anxiety in half. Yoongi’s thoughts ease as you appear a few feet away from them, bags of candy in hand. Your doll face morphs into unease when you look at Taehyung. Yoongi wonders why that is – you’ve talked to Taehyung plenty of times. You encourage Yoongi to call him.

“You?” Taehyung asks. The vehemence in his voice startles Yoongi. “You’re still around? Jesus Yoongi, have you been shacked up with some girl you met at a bar this entire time?”

Words have consequences. Taehyung’s immediately has an effect, your expression going from soft and sweet to something that makes Yoongi’s hands grip the push-bar on the cart tightly.

“He has nothing to do with it.” Your voice is a layered hiss. A tingle slides down Yoongi’s neck – familiar and dangerous. He has the sudden urge to bolt, but his feet are rooted to the ground as you advance, putting yourself between the two men. “Yoongi hasn’t been feeling well. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“I’m one of his best friends!”

Taehyung is one of his best friends. And Jimin. And Seokjin. Yoongi remembers sitting on a stool at Serendipity, listening to Old Ass Han tell him some superstition about female demons who snatched one of his sons in the middle of the night. Jimin had laughed so hard and made Old Ass Han so mad that Jimin covered his tab for the night.

It was such a funny memory that the next Halloween, Jimin had dressed up as a sultry, female demon. Yoongi vaguely recalls laughing with them into the night, especially when Jimin picked up a guy to go home with that night.

Yoongi is full of those memories – at least he was. He thinks he is.

The little place in his mind that feels inaccessible cracks a little and Yoongi winces, a headache splitting him open. He clutches his temple as a bolt of pain lances through his skull. Then your hands are on him, gentle and cradling his face. You’re saying something but he can’t hear you over the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

Colors dance across his vision as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, trying to pant through the pain. The pain doesn’t come from that tiny little box in his mind – it comes from somewhere else. Pulling him away from whatever is hidden there, in that dark little forgotten corner.

Suddenly, it becomes too much and darkness swallows him whole.

The last thing Yoongi remembers is the gentle kiss of your mouth on his neck.

-

Yoongi has a problem.

He’s getting headaches all the time. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night with them, sharp pain digging behind his eyes. It always worsens when he tries to recall the dreams he has before he wakes up – he knows he has dreams. They’re on the tip of his tongue. But the more he thinks about them, the more he tries to draw up what he imagined, the more the pain grows.

The bed sinks as you crawl in next to him. It’s too hot in bed. Sheets cling to Yoongi’s skin. He feels like there’s a furnace under the mattress, burning through and making everything sweaty and sticky. He shifts a little away from you – your body is always warm, skin heated with the thrum of energy beneath the surface.

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber. Your scent swells as you tuck yourself close to him. Not touching, but Yoongi can sense you there, an awareness tingling along his skin. It’s happened a few times, where a second awareness blinks an eye open and Yoongi feels on edge. Like there is suddenly an instinct inside of him that has awakened, one he is unfamiliar with.

That awareness yawns. Blooms at the back of his mind, where that same throbbing ache has settled. Yoongi tries to steady his breathing, but he can feel his pulse against his pillow, thumping faster and faster as your cloying scent muddles his thoughts.

You don’t say anything. You don’t reach out and touch him. You just lay there, silent and omnipresent. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, and for the first time in a very long time, he wishes that you would go to the other room and watch TV. You love watching TV. Sometimes he finds you sitting in front of it on the floor, knees tucked to your chest, chin on top of your knees while you watch a variety of shows.

Though it seems you have settled on Tokyo Ghoul as your favorite.

“Kitty?” you whisper. He holds his breath. Perhaps if he pretends he is asleep, you’ll go to sleep too. Long beats of silence stretch between you, filled only with the sound of Yoongi’s measured breathing. “I’m sorry.”

He pauses. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi swallows past a knot in his throat. Every muscle in his body is clenching. His fingers are fisted in his blankets, and he’s curled into a ball. He doesn’t remember feeling so braced. He tries to relax, letting himself melt in the bed a little.

“For what?”

“You… need space.”

He doesn’t need to turn around to hear the tremble in your voice. You sniffle a little. The lamp on his bed flickers, catching his attention. He watches the flicker of the bulb as you cry softly behind him. He wants to turn around – wants to gather you in his arms and tuck you into his chest and yet… he doesn’t.

“A little,” Yoongi admits softly.

“Okay.”

Licking his lips, Yoongi steels himself. He rolls over in bed to look at you. You’re buried in one of his hoodies and the blanket he likes to sleep with on the couch. He can barely make out your cherubic face. Your round eyes blink at him, pools of light in the darkness of the hoodie and blanket.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Okay.”

He softens. It’s not so warm in the bed anymore, so he reaches across the space, finding your hand clutched in the blanket. You let him pry your fingers open and he traces your palm. “Just a little space, okay? I can sleep on the couch tonight.”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Baby-“

“I’m not tired.”

Your voice is firm. He knows that voice – it’s the one that precedes a tantrum if he’s not careful. He nods, pulling a hand away and sighing, closing his eyes. He is tired. He realizes just how tired he is.

“Good night, Kitty.”

-

Most days it’s easier to placate you.

Yoongi feels like he is worn at the edges. Hot water runs down his neck, his back. Relieves a deep ache that has begun to grow on his bones, pained turned lichen. He feels like a watercolor painting with too much liquid medium, running at the edges and blurring across a once-beautiful canvas.

Sleep comes every night, but Yoongi still wakes up tired. He misses meetings even though he has been working from home for… however long. He doesn’t know where his cell phone is. He lost it somewhere in the house – doesn’t need it much.

Water drips onto the floor as he steps out of the shower. He watches it run down milky legs, soaking into the towel. Steam permeates the air and slicks across the mirror, Yoongi’s reflection as opaque and bleary as he feels.

Yoongi heaves a heavy yawn, wiping a hand across the steam in preparation to shave. When his eyes look up at the three-paneled mirror, a shadowed creature with rows of gnashing teeth and red eyes is behind him.

A scream rips its way out of his throat, the terror is so awful that Yoongi’s knees buckles. He hits the tile hard, head smacking the cabinet. His world explodes into color as he blinks the stars from his eyes, scrambling with damp legs, slipping uselessly on the steamed tile as he backs himself into the corner of the wall and sink.

There’s nothing there. Just an open doorway.

For a few seconds, it’s just Yoongi’s heart pounding so hard that his stomach roils. He fumbles for the toilet, flipping the lid and rolling to his knees to heave the contents of dinner into the bowl. He gasps for air, stinging his vomit-burned throat as he throws up again. Stomach-churning. Lungs screaming.

When he flushes and settles against the bathtub, he hears the TV in the living room. Cool air drifts in from his bedroom. He closes his eyes and takes in deep breaths, counting in for seven and out for seven. There’s the soft patter of your feet on the carpet, and he can sense you in the doorway.

His spine always tingles when you’re around.

“Kitty? Are you okay?”

“Don’t feel good.”

“Oh kitty,” you whisper. He keeps his eyes closed. You slide closer to him and your hands are warm. When they touch his face, he feels a little energy pour back into him and he opens his eyes. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, still. “I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry?”

You chew on your lip. “I’m sorry.”

It feels like you say that a lot these days. Yoongi nods his head and closes his eyes again as you lean forward and press yourself to his side, giving him a gentle kiss.

-

The headache is bad. But he has to know. Lays in his bed writhing in the sheets.

Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts.

Memories crack across his mind, each one hurting more than the last.

A creature of shadow. Blacking out after sex. A dead cat that hadn’t always been dead. Your innocent eyes. Your angry eyes. You smashing his phone to pieces. A doctor forging him a medical note. Blood on your hands and face as you came out of the doctor’s office.

-

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi has energy. He feels more himself. Clearer. He gets up early in the morning and makes himself coffee. He sees you lurking near the fridge, throwing him wary glances. You’re a little more worn than usual: sallow cheeks, bags under your eyes. Your eyes are as starry.

When he asks you what’s wrong, you don’t answer. You duck into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind you. He stares, a little confused and hurt before sighing. You’re touchy sometimes, and on the days like this where you’re more like a feral cat than a preening girlfriend, he knows to keep his distance.

Yoongi shrugs and tosses the sugar packet in the trash, frowning. There are empty bottoms of foam that are stained red - meat packages, he realizes. He doesn’t recall having steak at all this week, but perhaps you’re thawing it in the fridge for dinner.

He shrugs and goes to his office, leaving you to your devices.

A morning meeting kickstarts his day, and Yoongi forgets about it.

-

Yoongi has a problem.

You’re worse. You don’t want to come out of his room and you won’t go near the light. There are harsh lines around your eyes and he swears your teeth are sharper. More lethal. You won’t sleep in the same bed as he is.

Worst of all? Yoongi feels great. Feels like perhaps it was just a depressive episode he was in. He no longer feels like he is melted together at the edges, barely hanging on. But it does mean that he’s getting frustrated with you.

“Feral,” he mutters as he walks into his office after you snarled at him and then proceeded to cry because you wanted him to take the day off. “Sometimes I swear she is feral.”

-

Soft lips wake Yoongi up in the middle of the night. He stirs, feeling a tingle run down his spine. He can smell cedar, jasmine and amber and smiles. You’re pressed against him, mouth seeking his delicately, though there is some urgency behind your kisses.

Yoongi opens his mouth to you, an invitation. You suck his tongue into your mouth greedily and arousal shoots to his cock, your mouth doing wonders on his tongue. Fuck he knows you like to suck him off like that too, all greedy and sloppy and spit-slicked.

Your hands pull at his shirt and you kiss him with more fervor, lips becoming teeth, moans becoming hisses. When Yoongi rolls onto his back, pulling your hips on top of him, the dynamic changes.

A gasp escapes his kiss-bruised lips, eyes flying open as you mark his throat. Harsh stings of teeth followed quickly by lavish licks of your tongue. It’s messy and you leave a trail of spit dripping down his neck, making him squirm underneath you, cock tight against his pajama shorts.

“Fuck,” he moans when you suck that spot under his ear he loves. “Greedy devil.”

“Yes,” you shoot back, voice firm. Your hands seek his, pulling them from where they massage your ass to pin them above his head, your grip iron. “Please.”

There’s no way she’s human.

Taehyung’s words flash through Yoongi’s mind when he looks up at you. Your pupils are dilated, two black disks that absorb the barest hint of light in the room. He shivers, afraid of falling into your dark eyes and never finding his way back home.

Have your eyes always been that soulless? No, he thinks.

“Please,” you say again. “Please let me have you.”

He frowns. “You can always have me.”

You shake your head. “Not always. Too much. I take… I take too much. But now not enough. I just…” Your lip trembles and where you hold his wrist begins to ache. He whimpers and you hush him, your fingers loosening a little. “I just need some. Not a lot.”

It’s hard to understand what you’re asking for. Yoongi is lost in the sensation of fluttering in his stomach and the way blood rushes through his body. He feels high when you dip one of your hands below the waistband of his pajamas, taking a hold of his cock in your hand, thumb brushing precum from the tip.

You always take care of Yoongi. His eyes flutter shut as he feels a steady static build in his brain. Your touch is careful but deliberate, each stroke of your hand and squeeze of his shaft sending him spinning. His hips twitch under you.

When you shift down his body, he lifts his lower half off the bed, kicking at the sheets and letting you tug his bottoms down. He’s shaking and eager, unable to look down at you when you take him fully in your hand, tongue tasting the stickiness at his tip.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His hands are still above him, twisted in the pillowcase. He leaves them there, helpless as you tongue the head of his dick before sucking it into your mouth. Your tongue is gentle and your mouth is warm, the barest of sucks making him whine. “Don’t tease me.”

You hum and the vibrations make him speechless. His head rolls to the side, mouth parted, panting as he sees stars. You suck him eagerly, messily. He hears the wet pull of your mouth, the choked cough of your throat when you take him in deep and swallow.

Gentle nails scratch down his legs. He feels like he’s disconnected from the rest of the world, a single strand tethering him as he floats. He babbles as you take him in deep, a hand reaching down below his balls, a single, shy finger pressing against his tight rim.

Everything inside of Yoongi goes taught. He comes immediately and without warning. Spills in your mouth and the world fades away. There is nothing where he goes. No memories, no thoughts, no anxiety. It’s just Yoongi and he feels good – the kind of warm from a bubble bath laden with creams and salts.

Eventually, he comes back down. Opening his eyes, Yoongi sees you blink down at him. You smile, brushing light finger strokes over flushed cheeks. He grins up at you, elated. Hypnotized. You’re so… he doesn’t know the word.

There’s no way she’s human.

That phrase makes Yoongi’s smile falter. You are exquisite. Shrouded in darkness. Yoongi feels the press of unfamiliar air. When he looks beyond you, there’s just darkness. There is nothing. No light streams in from the window again. There is no soft hum of the nightlight in the bathroom where he usually leaves the door open now.

It’s just you.

Yoongi’s heart begins to speed up, panic rising.

You kiss him softly. It’s sweet and his anxiety melts away. Feels the weight of you on your hips, wet pussy dripping on his thigh. You’re being patient, which surprises him. Usually by now you’re needy, grinding your cunt on his thigh to seek friction.

“I want more,” you whisper against his mouth, fingers pressed into his cheeks. “Will you give me more?”

He nods. You lick his mouth, sighing contentedly as you roll your hips on his thigh. He moans, feeling the glide of your bare folds against his leg. You are always so ready for him, eager to take him. Easy to please. Excited to take what you want.

Shaking above him, you bury your face in his neck. Yoongi slides his hands from their position above his head, resting one hand on your thigh and sliding the other between your legs. Sticky arousal greets him, his fingers brushing up and down your cunt as you stop grinding, letting him take control.

“Kitty,” you beg, words muffle in his neck. He grins, eyes half-lidded as he plays with you. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi sinks two fingers in your greedy hole, feeling the way your walls flutter around him. It doesn’t matter how many times he buries his fingers, cock or tongue in you – every time is divine. Feels like something holy, taking him somewhere else.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he murmurs, pressing a thumb to your clit. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you make a mess on my hands first.”

“Want your cock.”

“Fingers first, baby. Come on, you can do it.”

A growl rips through your frame. Yoongi stills under you for a moment, heart skipping. But then you move your hips and he hears your soft breath. Feels the drip down his hand. He grins, feeling you swallow his fingers as you work yourself on him, his thumb circling your clit lazily.

Nails dig into his thighs as you lean backward, spreading yourself for him. He can barely make out your figure in the darkness, but he can see the swell of your chest, the line of your neck as you toss your head back, his name falling from flushed lips and floating up to the ceiling.

When you come, it’s wet and loud. He hums, pulling drenched fingers from your legs. He surges forward, surprising you and moving you backward, letting your head bounce near the foot of the bed as he cages you in, stealing a kiss.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging and whining and rubbing against his thigh again, begging sweetly. No one has ever wanted Yoongi the way you do. Ever. He cannot recall a single time someone has been as vigorous in their pursuit.

It makes him hard again, the rush in his veins igniting once more as he slides into you. He pushes in to the hilt, settling there for a moment. You clench around him, clawing at the back of his neck and thrashing under him. Begging for more. Always wanting more. Swearing you just need a little more.

Yoongi sets a slow pace, stroking deep with a purpose. You gasp every time he fucks all the way into you. He grins against your sweaty neck, tongue licking a stripe up your salty skin. You turn your face and catch his mouth with yours, swapping more spit than kissing, moaning into one another’s mouths.

An orgasm winds tightly in Yoongi’s stomach. He feels it at the base of his spine this time, a second sense tingling as he picks up speed, slamming into you until you’re crying under him, babbling again in something that sounds like a language but isn’t quite.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck –“ He grits his teeth and the moment he comes, you squeeze him like a vice, shouting and pulling him into an orgasm so hard that he feels himself fall on top of you, the energy leaving him as quickly as his orgasm had gathered.

At some point, he falls asleep.

-

Hell on earth is waking up battered and torn at the seams. You’re out in the living room, enjoying an early morning episode of Tokyo Ghoul again. He hears you giggle at the TV and he lifts his head in the shower. The rush of the hot water is loud, but the sound of you laughing is in his head.

It always feels like you’re in his head.

Yoongi stumbles when he gets out of the shower. His feet are heavy and there is pain behind his eyes. The throbbing kind that makes him turn the lights out and shoot a text to work telling them he needs a sick day. How many sick days has he had this year? He has no idea.

Yoongi stumbles to the mattress and collapses into the sheets. Everything feels heavy like he is made of glass bones with the weight of the world threatening to break him.

Sleep comes and goes. It doesn’t make him less tired. Yoongi places a hand on his forehead.  He is not over-warm, but he wants to cry, the ache in every muscle so real that it takes him several tries to say your name.

You appear immediately, hovering at the edge of the bed in his hoodie, wrapped in a blanket.

“Are you feeling sick, Kitty?” He nods and you sniff. “I’m so sorry, Kitty… do you want some water?”

Yoongi nods again and you vanish. He rolls onto his back, groaning. He reaches for his phone. The screen is cracked from some incident or another, but it’s mildly legible as he searches his symptoms online.

When you come back with water, he thanks you with a sweet kiss and smiles when you lick his nose affectionately before darting out of the room again. He hears the show start again.

Carefully, Yoongi tries to sit up a bit. The water is cooled with two cubes – just the way he likes it – and it helps staunch the thirst. He drains the entire glass, but still, he aches with exhaustion that has no name.

Every combination he can think of brings Yoongi undesirable results. He has the fatigue of many different illnesses, but not any of the others. Mono seems the most likely, but still, it doesn’t feel right.

Yoongi considers and then types a new search: constant exhaustion after sex.

The results make him roll his eyes. He knows he’s going to get several ads for erectile dysfunction medication, but he scrolls anyways. Maybe he’s just fucking you that hard. But he does remember blacking out after sex and… well he never feels great the next day.

Slowly tapping through pages, Yoongi sighs. There’s nothing that provides much thought beyond Yoongi knowing he’s had too much sex. You’re a starving little thing, constantly wanting –

A word catches his attention: succubus.

Yoongi snorts when he opens the article. It’s a weird string of evangelical stories and musings, and overly sexualized depictions of female demons with generous breasts, shapely figures, and cute little bat wings.

The succubus needs sexual desire and energy to survive. He scoffs and wonders what heterosexual male wrote that dream.

Repeated sexual activity with a succubus will result in a bond being formed between the succubus and the host.

“Romantic,” Yoongi deadpans, scrolling up to close out the article. But a drawing catches Yoongi’s eye - a shadowy figure with rows and rows of teeth and red eyes. “Huh.”

Clicking on it, the page loads to a Reddit thread. Yoongi curses when he has to download the app, but his fingers move of their own volition, tapping across the screen as he creates a login and reopens the thread.

There are streams and streams of comments and links on the thread, a little overwhelming. As expected, it sounds like most heterosexual men overly-sexualizing women or asking about roleplaying – and yet, there’s a thread with a lot of upvotes that he clicks on.

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures following me. Yoongi licks his lips, feeling his mouth go dry as he continues. Blackouts after sex. Not able to remember life before meeting entity. Dead animals –

“Kitty?” Yoongi flinches, dropping the phone on his stomach, hand covering his chest as his heart pounds in his ribcage. You blink in surprise, cocking your head where you stand in the doorway. A sense of dread draws a slow finger down Yoongi’s spine as he stares at you. “Do you want to come watch with me? We can put on Spirited Away.”

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures-

“Kitty?” Yoongi has waited too long to reply. He nods his head and clears his throat. He wants to laugh at how ridiculous he’s being, shoving the phone away from him as he slowly peels himself out of bed. You grin and hold out a hand. “Thanks.”

-

Like a cat, you’re curled on the couch. Yoongi gives you a wide berth as he walks to his office. Night has passed into morning, and the flash of the screen lights the way as he opens the door, slipping through a tiny crack before he closes it softly and firmly behind him.

While watching movies, Yoongi could not help but think about the thread he had seen. He doesn’t turn the light on, too afraid of it showing under the door and tipping you off where he is.

Fear settles in the pit of his stomach. His hands are shaky as he wakes up the mouse, the computer light nearly blinding in the dark room. He jams the settings on the keyboard, turning it down a bit as he settles into the chair, taking a few breaths.

It feels ridiculous. You’re his girlfriend, not a sex-craving demon. But Yoongi finds the thread again anyways, clicking through and going back to that original subthread of people claiming to have survived an encounter with a succubus.

Time doesn’t seem to pass as Yoongi reads. He leans on his hand, eyes burning as he clicks through story after story.

Met at a bar – she was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I never remember going home with her, but my life was suddenly consumed by her. I lost my job and my friends. Felt good at first, but started getting headaches any time I would try to remember something. And she was always around, always lurking around every corner.

Yoongi clicks on to the next one, stomach flipping nervously.

- I ran into a friend and she swore we hadn’t spoken in months. I remember talking to her but it felt like… they were false memories. Like I didn’t really do those things. It was strange, but I forgot again after a while.

Taehyung’s face flashes in Yoongi’s mind. His palms get sweaty as he navigates the mouse, leaning closer toward the screen. A nervous beat starts to drum up in his heart as he pours over the words and the accounts of others.

The evidence is damning, but it can’t be possible, right?

Yoongi thinks of Old Ass Han telling the story of his son being swept up by a she-demon. Yoongi doesn’t think the story is very funny anymore, and the thought of Jimin dressing up as one makes him nauseous.

Carefully, he navigates to another thread.

I was lucky. She didn’t want to kill me, but she was constantly hungry for more energy that I didn’t have. She would get cagey and feral, hissing at me and hiding in the dark, like she was weaker in the sun when she wasn’t fed. I would find packs and packs of meat rotting in the garbage like she was trying to get her fix elsewhere.

I hope that you take this thread seriously. They are real. And while they look and talk like people, they aren’t. They might grow attached to you, but they don’t love you. You are a meal – and if your succubus is only feeding off of sex, it’s only a matter of time before they need more.

Think Jennifer’s Body, people.

Yoongi has never seen that movie before. He clicks away from the thread and pulls up the trailer. It seems a little ridiculous, but he gets the idea. Sex, eat the guy, move on to the next. But you certainly have never tried to eat him.

So Yoongi clicks back to the thread and searches for something new. How to get rid of a succubus.

He leans back while the page loads, switching to a white screen. This bright, the monitor reflects what’s in front of it, Yoongi’s round and tired face, pale from lack of sleep, and a looming shadow behind him. His stomach plummets and he goes rigid in the chair, frozen with fear.

Yoongi smells cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

"Kitty is looking at bad things,” you sniffle. Your shadow grows in the computer monitor and Yoongi swears he sees the white flash of teeth before his world turns red. "I loved you, Kitty."

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #suga bts #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x demon reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #min yoongi #happy haliween #haliiimede writes #minors dni #minors do not interact #tw manipulation #tw supernatural #tw dead animal

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

Meghan and Harry: Episode 1

Why?

Seriously, why?

Bet let’s start at the beginning. I live-blogged the documentary on my Notes app. I wasn’t originally going to post it because I’ve stopped blogging, but omg, this is truly, as Scobie would say, the endgame. Of course, it’s not the monarchy losing the game. It’s the Harkles, They’ve checkmated themselves.

This was a six-hour own goal. I knew it was going to end badly for them when I saw Sunshine Sachs dropped them. Without SS astroturfing positive coverage all over the place they were doomed anyway.  However, the content of the documentary takes it beyond doom and into truly apocalyptic. I bet it has great ratings. It’s a complete train wreck.

[Edited after first liveblog: Netflix is calling it the most viewed documentary ever, but that’s misleading. It barely held on to The Crown’s audience which was its base number, and I doubt it will have the same staying power. Still, not a bad The Crown companion piece for Netflix.]

But let’s break it down.

Episode 1

Starting with shots in an airport lounge and a rented house looking like absolute crap is the weirdest branding idea I’ve ever heard of. They don’t look relatable. They look pathetic.

[I’m editing this after finishing their series and this opening is even more baffling now. Episode 5 covers their last week of royal engagements. First, that segment is a lot more glamorous and exciting than these sad-sack iPhone videos and they really should have opened with that. Second, Episode 5 shows they were elated and super excited after finishing those engagements. They loved the crowd reactions and the press coverage and were over-the-moon with happiness. These videos are supposedly shot after that and they are all sad and mopey and wondering “how they got here.” It’s a huge disconnect.]

The intro music screams “cheap YouTube production.” So does the stock photo montage. Oh, now it’s home movies…why? This resembles the video tab of a super-basic Facebook couple circa 2014. Netflix paid millions for this? I don’t think they got paid $100m, but I bet Netflix shelled out a tenth of that. They still overpaid.

[Actually, maybe they didn’t. The Crown cost $13 million per episode and they likely paid $10 mil for six episodes of Harry and Meghan which got the same audience.]

Now they are in a house (theirs? Victoria Jackson’s? Oprah’s?) that looks like a Restoration Hardware showroom and they look slightly less pathetic but also like they are in couples’ therapy. Oh, she did know who he was. What a shocker. Dimwit doesn’t seem to realize the implications. I wonder if the filmmaker is secretly mocking them.

[The house is a random rental that is now for sale so I wonder if they get a sales commission for the product placement. https://www.forbes.com/sites/emmareynolds/2022/12/20/montecito-home-where-prince-harry-and-meghan-markle-filmed-documentary-lists-for-335-million/?sh=3285e16b74fa]

My husband is watching with me. He was very confused by Meghan’s comment about how “when the stakes are so high” it makes sense to get the story from them. He doesn’t understand why the stakes are high. I told her Meghan is a narcissist and he didn’t believe me. He used to watch her on Suits and despite my best efforts still thinks she’s Rachel Zane. Anyway, he thinks the house looks like an expensive rehab clinic and now I can’t get that out of my mind. I think they are trying to look like the happy couples in When Harry Met Sally but it does feel like luxury drug rehab therapy full of Restoration Hardware furniture. He also asked me what was going on with Harry’s pupils in the airport lounge video. He thought that was weird. I tell him it's cocaine, but he thinks it's Xanax or something like that.

Montage. “They are destroying us.” “This has always been bigger than us.” Oh, please.

Montecito sunset. I guess this is their backyard? It looked better in the real estate photos. Meghan croons “isn’t it beautiful?” and Archie agrees. All I can think of is that these idiots used to live in freaking Windsor Park and now they have my grandma’s yard (complete with chicken coop and everything).

Walking with Archie. Harry mutters “this is a great love story” while pushing an empty newborn stroller (why? Where’s the baby? Is Meghan carrying the baby?). This is surreal. 

Glamorous wedding shot (a melancholic reminder of past glories, frankly) and it turns into a closeup of Harry’s legs. Eew.

Meghan goes to the chicken coop. There’s a lot of cyclone fencing in this house. 

Back to the Restoration Hardware Showroom. Meghan is in sweats because…I don’t know. Weird Instagram family pics including a sad little birthday party for Archie. Good lord, my kids had better parties than the King’s grandson. This is so pathetic. 

Oh, no. She got the cheap Amazon patio furniture protectors. At least they match the cyclone fencing. 

More family Instagram. They are protecting their kids…by putting them in a documentary?

Did I just see Harry’s underwear??!! Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Between the sale of family pics, the family drama, and the plumber’s crack, I’m starting to feel that Meghan married her dad.

Harry talks about consent with regards to his children…but they are too young to consent so it doesn’t really makes sense. Guess he thinks it’s only his consent that matters.

My husband asks if Harry is an addict. I suspect it’s partly his demeanor and partly the inconsistencies in the narrative. Meghan said she’d prefer Prince Harry, and that showed how little she knew about the royals? Media exposure requires consent, but your kids are in a documentary? Harry doesn’t seem to realize that these things make no sense.

I feel the way they structured these confessionals with an invisible interviewer was a big mistake. Oprah’s presence during that interview served to validate their shady claims. She has a lot of credibility so when she nodded and smiled people trusted that. It made their statements credible. Here they don’t have that and all the contradictions are apparent.

They’re in the yard. Meghan is trying to channel Martha Stewart and failing. Martha wouldn’t have cyclone fencing, Megs.

Meghan in sweats in the Restoration Hardware showroom. BIG expensive drug rehab vibes. I bet this is what all the rich women wear at the Betty Ford Clinic. She complains that other people write books about them and “wouldn’t it make sense to hear our story from us?” Actually, Megs it’s becoming painfully clear that the tabloids and royal biographers have made you two look a lot more interesting, glamorous and stylish than you really are. Left to your own devices you two are boring as dry toast.

Really cool shots of London. Whoa, the city looks great! They spent money on these. They probably should have spent that cash making California look good. London is their past and California is their future and so far their past looks a lot cooler and more glamorous than their future.

Tig Instagram pic montage. I wonder who was taking these? She should have rehired the photographer because the family pics she has now are terrible. These were much better. Her Tig life feels a lot more upscale and aspirational than her current Montecito existence which goes to show what good photography can do. LOL, she used the airport with the Ghurka suitcase. Yes, she didn’t know she was going to meet a prince and that’s why she traded in her Rowena for the luggage brand the princes are known to use.

Pics from what appears to be Harry’s private Instagram. Interesting—wait, the Insta rumor was real? What the? Good lord why would you admit that in a documentary???!! This is freaking surreal. Whyyyyy?”

[To those who don’t know. There was a rumor back in 2016 that Meghan was a designated Soho House “companion” and the girls were “advertised” through a private Insta account run by Marcus. If you liked a girl you could DM Marcus and get an introduction…which seems to be exactly what Harry did. I don’t understand why they would mention this in a a documentary. Everyone bought the Violet von Westerwhatever blind date story. They should have stuck to that.]

I wonder how the mainstream audience is reacting to the new instagram story. The original story got a lot of coverage and a critical mass of people may start to wonder what the heck is going on. Even my husband is skeptical and I don’t think he knew the blind date story. 

BTW, the fact that she was following his account was known in Toronto as soon as the relationship story broke. Interesting.

“Friend” talking about Wimbledon. She’s actually Serena Williams agent so I’m not sure why she’s labeled as a friend. Wimbledon, blah, blah, blah. Lol, Again, Meghan’s old life appears a heck of a lot more glamorous than her current one. OMG, she told Serena’s agent she was going on a date with Harry??!! She was telling everyone wasn’t she?

Texting. She was posting all of this to Insta as it was happening which is absolutely hilarious. Actually, this whole documentary reminds of the early days of the relationship when she was posting everything on Insta and leaking stories to US Weekly constantly. They really wanted all of this material out there and waiting until they got paid for it probably took probably took enormous self discipline. Guess they took Doria's "don't give the milk away for free" advice to heart.

I just realized she’s wearing Trevor’s Cartier bracelet during her monologues and that cracks me up. 

More cheap stock footage. Seriously, how much did Netflix pay for this? Endless chat about their first date, which is nowhere near as interesting as they seem to think it is. They should have stuck to the blind date story. It was slightly more interesting. Bad Soho House selfie. 

Nacho shows up as a “friend” and he’s really Harry’s promo buddy. The Silver Tree person was also a Suits director. Everyone is a business contact in this documentary. All these white people in California resort wear are giving me White Lotus Season 3 vibes. 

Baseball hat pics in a messy kitchen…these two are hellbent on shedding whatever royal glamour they had left. Wait, isn’t this an old picture from Toronto? Like real old, first year in Toronto kind of old. What a weird choice.

“Marry someone who fits the mould instead of someone you are destined to be with” followed by a pic of Megs trying to look sexy in a wifebeater shirt. Does the director secretly hate them? He was born in a palace but he had a trailer park heart…she was a tacky actress from the wrong side of the tracks…they were destined to be together selling family pics to the tabloids just like dad…it’s a family traditioooooooon….

Old royal footage…Diana…Charles…childhood photocalls, which Harry seems to resent, but he’s doing the same to his kids in this documentary, so I really don’t understand what he’s thinking. The Diana footage is a big misstep because wow Di was charismatic and these two losers can’t hold a candle to her. 

Thirteen whole minutes of archival footage, most of it stuff his parents “consented” to, and lots of whining about press intrusion. Dude, you’re in a reality show. You’re putting your kids on television. Know where you stand.

Then a slew of private couple pics that they really should have kept private. Love the wallpaper. Bet that was Frogmore. The documentary is rather disorienting. I can’t tell what house they are in or when the pictures were taken.  

Boom. “So much of what Meghan is and how she is is so similar to my mom.” My husband actually rewinds this part to make sure he heard right. Pic of Diana with her kids in the garden and then another pic of Meghan with her kids in the garden. Very similar gardens. Not so similar women.

“He wanted to marry his mom?” my husband asks. 

Cringe video of Archie with a Diana photo. “I didn’t want history to repeat itself,” Harry says.

“He did want to marry his mom,” my husband says, amazed. “So he can save her this time.” Shaking his head. “This is nuts but it’s television gold. Did the brother marry his mummy too?”

“No,” I said. 

“And the brother is the one who gets to be king, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

More monologue about their courtship. Lol, they really did leak the handholding painting to the press. Footage comparing Megs to Di and it’s painfully obvious she’s nowhere near as charismatic. 

Diana’s death and more archival footage. This documentary is a humongous downer, isn’t it? Childhood friend of Harry’s I’d never heard about. Was he invited to the wedding? I don't think so. Strong White Lotus vibes coming from this guy.

Diana’s funeral. Harry’s drug scandal. Hellraiser Harry. Bitching about paparazzi. No mention of Vegas, which is weird. You’d think that would be the big traumatic story about media intrusion. I guess he only wants to blame the UK media and Vegas was a TMZ story in the states and the UK media wasn’t allowed to print the pictures so it doesn't fit his narrative.

More whining about royal photocalls…except for the Lesotho photo ops which Harry didn’t seem to mind. Bit of a disconnect there because those were royal pr as well. In fact, it was the way the royals rehabilitated his image after the drug scandal. Seems like Harry only hates the royal pr he can’t personally monetize. Why isn’t Sentenbale getting a shout out? You’d think he would plug the charity here (Audi, Soho House, and JP Morgan got very obvious brand placements) but if he did I missed it. [Edited: Should have added the house to the list of product placements]

LOL, Prince Seesio straight out says that the Lesotho vacation was a response to the bad press in the UK. They should have briefed him better. I don’t think he was supposed to say that.

Botswana vacay with Meghan. Wow, the Daily Mail made this look a lot more glamorous than it actually was. This wasn’t exactly glamping, was it? Were there showers? No, best to not go there. No charities are mentioned. No mention of the “love” bracelets, just a Daily Mail article shot.

More whining about press intrusion then private Halloween pics that really should have stayed private. Lol, they went to a party with Eugenie after the relationship was leaked. Tell me you leaked the relationship without telling me you leaked the relationship. I bet Meghan wanted to post this on her Insta and Jason didn’t let her. I wish they’d let her. The press reaction to the Call of Duty costume would have been epic.

Harry doesn’t seem to be catching on. If you were in disguise and no one knew you went to this party except Meghan, Jack and Eugenie, then who exactly leaked it, Harry? Because we knew about it a day later.

That’s a Toronto newspaper, the same one that had the leak about Meghan following Harry’s private account. At the time the evil British tabloids were actually under the impression Harry was still in England and had cancelled a trip to visit Toronto.

The other outlet who got the scoop early was our old friend US Weekly, and the byline was by a then-unknown gossip hack called Omid Scobie. Given what we know now about their relationship with Scobie. Yep, I think these two just confessed to leaking stories about their own relationship.

The DM had to quote the Toronto paper and US Weekly when they finally broke the story on the other side of the pond.

Interesting that Meghan and Harry’s “new and improved super real love story” is the one that was being leaked in Toronto and not the one that the evil UK tabloids had supposedly uncovered through nefarious means. I don’t understand why they are changing the story, though. The blind date wasn’t a tabloid rumor. It’s what they themselves said during a BBC interview. 

End of episode. Overall, I feel this was a huge missed opportunity. Not much about his work in Africa or her UN/One Young World work. We hear about Harry’s photography but barely see it. It’s their chance to tell their story and their story is “we’re boring and tacky people who sell pics of their kids.” I feel they really wanted to put the “real” story of how they met out there—the IG dog pic, the Call of Duty costume, the crappy Soho House selfie. It reminds me of her old Working Actress blog where she was constantly stressing how unglamorous acting life really was. 

I’m not blown away by the quality either. Their home movies feel cheap and curiously inauthentic. They should have run everything through a filter to make it feel coherent and cohesive. The stock/archival footage is sometimes great (London and the royal family), sometimes cheap (Soho House), sometimes missing (California), and sometimes misleading (pap shots of Chelsy, Cressida and Kate that are narrated as though Meghan was the victim). 

The documentary lacks the authoritative tone most documentaries have. You really feel it’s “their” side of the story and not the “real” story. I think the problem is how they switch from the couples’ personal narrative, confessionals, and personal pics into historical pictures and public royal narratives. The institutional credibility of the royal shots makes the personal material feel biased and unreliable. The videos of Charles and the kids interacting with photographers, in particular are massive own goals because they remind the viewers that everything, including Meghan and Harry’s pictures and videos, includes invisible photographers. It’s just that the Harkles are hiding that from us, whereas the royals are upfront about it. The confessionals in the rehab setting, in particular, were huge mistakes, imo. They feel like reality show confessionals (like the ones the Housewives franchise uses) and viewers are trained to see those as unreliable narrations. Using someone else's house was also a bad idea. It feels fake.

The whole thing feels very chaotic and unconvincing. My husband thinks they are both addicts and I remember thinking that when they first started doing their beanie hat appearances. I ask him why and he cites the dilated pupils, contradictory narratives, family resentments and couch-surfing at other people’s housing. He says it’s standard junkie drama.

Other family members are watching and most of the group chat (lawyers and social workers) reaches the same conclusion: even the royals have junkie kid drama. The social worker says she has tons of clients like Meghan and the all sound the same. “They’re trying to destroy us.” “It’s a great love story.” “I don’t know how we ended up here.” “What happened.” They are all more interested in having their side of the story validated than in actually fixing the problem and they just repeat the same family dynamics over and over again. That’s why Harry is showing us pics of his kids in the house/garden/vacation right after complaining that his parents showed the world pictures of him, his bother, and his cousins in the house/garden/vacation.  She noticed that he posted a pic of himself in military gear (the Halloween pic) as an adult and a similar one of himself a kid. He also posted skiing pics with the royals and then similar pics in the sand in California. She’s says he’s basically re-living his childhood and trying to get it right this time. 

I didn’t expect many people in my family would be interested in this, but they are all having fun psychoanalyzing these two. Everyone thinks this is Harry rewriting his past so he gets to save his mum this time. Meghan’s motivations are less clear. No one believes she didn’t know who he was. The psychologist says it’s weird that Meghan’s side of the love story was just “it was exciting…we just got to know each other….” Her motivation is not that clear, although there was that one story about wanting to be protected from the elephants in the tent. Opinion is split with half the chat thinking she wanted to be rescued by Prince Charming and the other half (the psychologists and social workers) thinking that as an actress her fantasy would be A Star is Born. The psychologist says those two are not that different. In the Prince Charming fantasy you get rescued by an individual and in the Star is Born fantasy you are rescued by an institution, i.e., the studio or Hollywood. She thinks her fantasy was A Star is Born and that’s why she’s so resentful now. I think we’d discussed that in the blog before. Interesting to hear someone else saying it. Meghan didn’t want a love story where she was rescued by Harry, she wanted a Hollywood success story where she was acclaimed as a star by the palace. She didn’t get that and that’s why she’s still upset even though she got the Prince Charming love story. That’s not what she wanted. Harry got the fantasy he wanted, so he’s not as upset. 

Not much support for the theory (mine) that she was manipulating him consciously. Everyone seems to think it’s a case of two mental illnesses falling in love, along with junkie drama. That’s why Harry is so amazed at their “fantastic love story.” He wanted to marry his mum and she wanted to be his mum. That’s a pretty unlikely combination. 

I’m very curious about the “friends” featured in this episode. No Jess, no Markus, no Misha Nonoo, no one from the Suits cast except Abigail Spencer, and no Janina. Everyone seems to be a business partner of some sort. Cory was missing also, but it makes sense that she wouldn’t mention him. Reitman’s wasn’t mentioned either but I guess she doesn’t want to give them press.

I don’t understand why they didn’t lean into the charity work angle. She was doing One Young World and he was working Africa. Her "You can be Both" essay wasn't mentioned either and I feel they should have led with that instead of going with her “single girl trip” and the not-so-glam Botswana vacation. I also don’t understand why we didn’t see more of Harry’s supposedly amazing wildlife photography. After all, they are trying to build a career as documentary producers. You’d think that would be relevant. The big takeaways from this episode are: Meghan is mummy and I saw history repeating itself so I had to save her. “Save Mummy” seems like a weird narrative to craft a brand around, but my husband is right. It’s television gold.

On to the next episode.

[roo-bastmoon]

After having a long think...

Even though I keep saying I'm going to go rest and stop obsessing about this, I guess I can't. I just suck at sitting still and being chill. My thoughts are under the cut out of respect for folks in the tags who don't want to engage in any drama around Seven.

Here is a list of all the push for Seven that has been noticed in the first two days (the thread is currently 30-posts deep but please do take a look):

Note: I haven't vetted any of those comments. I just scrolled through them and felt so overwhelmed. It just doesn't look good, but I bow to any industry experts who have real data and experience.

Update: Artie has a good post here about Jimin's debut numbers and playlists. Also here about how Seven being promoted to radio isn't necessarily proof that it was payola and they have the numbers from credible sources to back that possibility up:

I'm just going to come right out and say it: I find payola dishonorable. It's not just advertising; it's basically bribes. And ads should never replace real people's streams.

I deeply respected that BTS and ARMY found such success without that stuff. It used to be about passionate artists, making their own music, which resonated with real people, who worked hard to promote it. It was about mutual respect.

JK's numbers don't look completely organic to me, but I don't think he had a hand in that.

I have such serious misgivings if this the direction Hybe is going in for JJK1, and have no clue how the group survives if the company picks and chooses their favorites for that kind of push. If this is the strategy for all BTS projects now, I have no idea how they can afford it. I'd really appreciate if they could come to us and try to explain how it could ever be on the up-and-up because I don't think it can.

I confess I will not be working hard at all for anything that seems inorganic. This project just looks like Scooter weaponizing Jungkook to win a dick-measuring contest with Taylor and others. I hate it.

That said, I've always been very clear that Jimin is my guide.

Jimin adores Jungkook. Jimin is working with and hanging out with Jungkook even as I type this. Jimin is choosing for now to stay with Hybe. Jimin is flying all over the world on Hybe's time and dime to work on even more projects. Jimin has more music to share with us, that Hybe is investing in. Jimin seems happy for the most part.

I will support Jimin and never move against the people Jimin loves.

I trust Jimin and give the benefit of the doubt to the people Jimin trusts.

When planning his first album, I do not believe that Jimin was told about decisions to split tracks, or skip play-listings, or what would get restocked, or if they'd buy ads for smoother streams on YouTube and Spotify or not, or what kind of articles would be written about him.

I believe Jimin had plenty of input on the design, look, feel, sound, tracks, cast, choreo, performances--all the creative aspects of his album. I think he was able to say what he needed to say and get Letter hidden on his album for Jungkook. But I don't think he was roped into strategic plans and profit and loss statements and marketing roll-outs in any great detail. I arrive at this idea based on my own experience in the entertainment industry--I could be wrong.

And so I think the same for Jungkook. I think Jungkook had input on some of the creative aspects of this single (and likely had suspicions of what working under Hybe America and Scooter might entail). I have no idea the conversations and pressures he faced around this topic, or if he simply trusted Bang PD to handle it. I don't know what all he talked about with Jimin and the hyungs.

I do know there was a time this year when he came to us on lives deeply depressed and almost lost, despondent. I know there was a group dinner where many things were discussed. And then there were many times he came to us on lives, inspired by and enamored with Jimin, memorizing and hyping up his work with such pure adoration, even as their own company refused to even mention Jimin's successes.

So I ask myself: does Jeon Jungkook really have it in him to steal Jimin's ideas or push himself out ahead of his hyungs, embracing unequal treatment and unfair advantages, just so he can be the one to make it big in the West?

And in looking for that answer, I'm reminded of this clip:

No. I don't think that's who Jeon Jungkook is. At least, it isn't the Jeon Jungkook I knew.

I am sad to say I think that is exactly who Scooter Braun is and who Bang PD has become. That is what the company would do. But not our Jungkook. Not unless everyone in the group was on board with it, somehow.

Jimin is standing by Jungkook. So I am standing by Jungkook--as a person.

But I've bought Seven once and I've added it to my night playlist and that's all the moves I'm making on that project. I will not be setting alarms to vote or using extra accounts to buy or hash-tagging anything, nor getting any merch, nor requesting local spins, none of that. It's a catchy song but as the thread I linked to above shows, it is a guaranteed "success" even without me. So I'm using my energy to support Jimin and other BTS projects that resonate with me and need me.

My stance on this might offend you, and I respect your feelings. I do not identify as a solo or anti. I still think of myself as aJimin-biased Jikooker who loves the members. I am probably toeing the line of being a manti, as I feel this company has broken faith with me. Not the creative or administrative staff, but the executives. I feel like they've ended our ten-year legacy in shame.

If it gets much worse, I may just dip out of the fandom after Jimin goes into service. I don't know. Probably I will have to see how things work out for the other solo works and plans for the group for 2025. At the moment, I have far bigger things to worry about, like colitis.

I can't lie, what I've seen so far with this rollout really shocked me, gave me a bit of an identity crisis, as ARMY. I don't want to assume the worst; neither do I want to bury my head in the sand for the sake of my ship or my favorite songs.

I will always act in accordance with my own conscience, based on the limited information I have. If I get better information, I will of course update my viewpoints. If at any point that causes anyone who is friended with me distress, I will understand completely if we need to part ways. I never, EVER wish to cause anyone harm.

But I'm too sick to argue and debate too much, too long. Boraland was supposed to be a place to unwind and feel inspired, not get more stressed. These past few 1.5 years months as ARMY has been exhausting in every sense of the word. So I'm choosing to put my energy into the things that bring some joy in my life.

I'm choosing to trust and follow Jimin's lead, for now.

#jimin #jikook #jungkook

[plantsarepeopletoo]

Only Friends Music Ep1 (1/2)

The prophecy episode

I am starting a series about the music of Only Friends, because I have noticed a ton of details, which I will attempt to put into words in a organized manner.

First, I wanted talk a little about the three ways I'm seeing music being used, these terms are just what I’ve been calling it in my head.

Just background music- It’s important and creates an atmosphere, like using Disco Frog for Mew and Cheum’s chat at the bar. These I will not use unless I see a theme or something important later.

Playing with Music- It’s like body language, the music will pause, start up, move along faster or slower. It's intentionally moving with what is happening on screen.

Verbal- Music that is telling us things. It could be songs that have names that seem important or have lyrics that may or may not be in the show. If there are lyrics I will include them, but will specify if they are in OF, and where they start and stop.

Master List here, in my pinned post. These will be long and probably split up, mostly because of lyrics and Music players. First two are a little weak here. Thank you @rocketturtle4 and @shouldiusemyname for helping me edit, lyrics, ideas, and organize my thoughts.

Ep1[1/4]

Song: Unknown (Take All My Heart) Scene: Opening scene at the bar  Type: Verbal music

We start off with the music from the song Sand sings, maybe an original song? Don't know it but I don't know enough Thai songs. Only including it because it feels like it's something that will happen.

Because I know you are honest Someone like you I've never met Take it, take all of my heart It's all yours

Song: Unknown Scene: Mew bumps into Top Type: Playing with music

I like how this song is repeating a riff, jamming away, there is a slight difference when Top stops Mew when Mew tries to clean up the spill, saying “It’s Ok”

Then the song settles down again until Ray drags Mew away, and it shifts to a faster part of the song and the scene shifts to Boston and his attempted hook up. Then it settles into the pattern again while Boston and the hookup talk. (I promise, it gets better, stick with me for a few, these are weak examples.)

Song: Now we do it again by Duplex Heart Scene: Friends at hostel discussing if they can run it Type: Verbal

When the friends ask Boston if he knows a designer, he pauses and the song starts as he smiles. It continues into the next scene and fades as he walks into Nick’s IT store. There are no words in the show. But lets look at some lyrics:

Oh, you have the strangest way  Of loving someone  And it feels like it's all over  Before it has begun But when we do collide  We play no games  Don't you know that kind of love Must go down in flames Oh we should really  Leave this one alone  But it keeps coming back  Coming back, coming back Two hours on the floor  (You better wake me up, wake me up)  Band-Aid on a sore  (We gotta rip it off, rip it off)  Two lovers want more (You better shake me up, shake me up) It's such a hopeless situation  But we do it again 

It's about loving, or wanting someone, who isn’t good for you, the relationship won’t go anywhere, but still going back again. I do believe the song goes for Boston, wanting more of Top, but also a prophecy of Nick wanting more and more from Boston. 

Our two lovers, Nick and Boston, want more, it’s such a hopeless situation.

Themes(motifs?) Fire, games, things falling apart, and hopelessness.

Song: Lurking Tiger by Ava Low Scene: Boston goes to get his phone fixed at Nick’s store Type: Verbal, playing

Boston catches Nick staring at his body while he was writing Mew's number down, leans forward and asks "What is your name?" Lurking Tiger’s bass starts. When Nick says "Happy to be of service"  the lyric-

I'm waiting here for you

Also who is the hunter here, really? Boston notices Nicks stare, did Nick actually need Boston to come back another day to fix his phone? Or was that a way to get Boston's name and to see him again.

Song: Always Always by Akerman Scene: Top answers quiz question Type: Verbal

When Top answers the question right, the music starts, then lyrics start after Boston introduces Top to the friends

Be sure I can do this  All night, all night, all night I just want to stay like this  Always, always, always It's one thing to promise,  And It’s another to deliver

This is where the lyrics in the show stop Top’s side is the first 2 lines, maybe they’re both “I just want to stay like this” and the last two lines are from Mew. Or, continuing the theme of these songs being prophecy, it could be asking both of them if they can deliver on promises. Things will change, it will not be easy like this all the time.

Lyrics not in the show, continue:

Be sure I can do this  All night, all night, all night I just want to stay like this  Always, always, always It's one thing to promise,  And It’s another to deliver And you don't want it now that you got it, To hell with it, to hell with it, Oh it’s one thing to deny it,  But it’s another to be defined by it,  And you used to play with fire And you think that you can get away with it  ‘Cause you’re always in my head  Yeah you’re always in my bed  I just wanna know that it tastes  What a waste, what a waste, what a waste  I just wanna stay like this  Always, always, always  Heaven is an open door  But I wait, I just wait, I just wait  I just wanna know that it tastes  What a waste, what a waste, what a waste

"And you don't want it now that you got it" might be either of them, do either of them want what they think they want?

"And you used to play with fire, and you think you can get away with it" Mew could be playing with fire (Top, love, and sex), Or Top could be playing with fire by sleeping around with people who might be looking for more from the relationship (or going after Mew, specifically) . Or both.

“Heaven is an open door, but I wait.. I just wanna know that it tastes, what a waste” Heaven is right there, what you want is right there, but not following through and instead waiting.

Themes- Fire, wanting things to stay good, promises, lust, Heaven and hell

Song: I'd like to love you by Psüche Scene: Top goes to dance with Mew Type: Verbal

The music starts when Top takes a drink and leaves Boston, and lyrics start when Top takes Mew’s hand on the dance floor

I know how, only now  We're in this game together  Take your time, make no vow

The game is on, it might be malicious, unintentional, real, or something else, I don't know, but the game is on. Top is doing what he does, Mew letting it happen. If we look at the rest of the lyrics, not in the show:

But hold me, like you do  Hold me, like you do  Hold me, like you do  Hold me  Dream now, dream wild In the end we're only echoes  Shine bright, fight the fight  Before we part, I'd like to love you

Asking to be held, to dream, but knowing it’s not going to last.  I was taking “Before we part, I’d like to love you” as Top wanting to have a one night stand. Or it could be from either of them, knowing the relationship probably won’t last, but wanting to try anyway. Given the context of what happened right before, Top getting excited about Mew’s virginity, it might not be the second. But if we’re looking at it as a prophecy, then it might be them shining bright and falling apart.

Themes - Games, promises, love/lust, wanting to be held.

Ep1[2/4]

Song: Check for Pulse by Duplex Heart Scene: Top and Mew in Mew's Kitchen Type: Verbal

The first notes of the song start when Top downs the glass of water.  The lyrics are cut a bit, the first line "Here we go" is from the first verse and they put it at the beginning of the second, replacing it with "all the bad things" Lyrics start with Top moving in to kiss Mew. Here we go indeed. 

Here we go  Love can be All in the blind spot That we don't see Wipe the dirt  From your face  Dry your eyes  And I'll play the ace  Ride along, ride along  There's a place where you belong  Shake your ass, don't you worry  'Bout the future, 'bout the past  You will hurt the ones who love you  And they will hurt you right back Sing along, sing along  Our love is a heart attack  You better check for pulse (repeat)

I wanted to highlight the fact that it's intentional, the wording, picking out this verse, the timing. "You better check for pulse" repeats start when Top pulls himself up on top of Mew. 

Full lyrics:

Here we go Once again Four hail Marys Nine amen Don’t you worry It’s gonna be alright ‘Cause I’m the judge and jury And we be up all night You better check for pulse (repeat) All the bad things That love can be All in the blind spot That we don't see Wipe the dirt  From your face  Dry your eyes  And I'll play the ace  Ride along, ride along  There's a place where you belong  Shake your ass, don't you worry  'Bout the future, 'bout the past  You will hurt the ones who love you  And they will hurt you right back Sing along, sing along  Our love is a heart attack  You better check for pulse (repeat) If it's goodbye  Well don't be sad  Head up high  Come on wave your flag  We're all in this  Without a clue  In the madness  But what can you do?

"Love can be all in the blind spot that we don't see" Mew is ignoring Ray and Top’s tension, or choosing not to see it. He is not seeing Boston and Top’s glances at each other (thinking of a specific time in EP2, during the wakeboarding.) He’s choosing to see all the good things, only the things for his checklist. This song is going to come back to haunt us in the future.

Themes- love/lust, falling apart (love is a heart attack), Blind spot/not seeing because of love, hurting who we love, Heaven

Quick recap of Top and Mew having three songs with lyrics in them, They’ve just started their relationship

Always Always - wanting to stay like this, but "It's one thing to promise, another to deliver and now you don't want it"

I'd like to love you- Take your time, make no vow, Hold me, before we part, I'd like to love you.

Check for pulse- blind spots, You hurt the ones who love you, and they hurt you right back. Our love is a heart attack. 

These are not “Fluffy love songs”, they are warnings.

Song: I am next to you by Alight The Night Scenes: Sand and Ray in the car/Sand's bathroom Type: Verbal/ Playful

A stripped down version of I Am Next To You plays after Mew asks if Top would like ice cream and continues into the scene where Sand is trying to figure out where Ray lives. As Sand gets Ray into the house, a few lyrics are sung

It's been a long time since we had it all  It's been a while since I was your

The cut part of the lyric is "your catcher in the rye" link to post about catcher in the rye vlogbrothers/crash course videos. They're short and sweet. I'll also have it on my pinned post for this.

According to Britannica.com… In the book, the catcher in the rye is a person who saves children from falling off a cliff (A metaphor for entering adulthood). The book ends with the main character realizing he can’t save everyone.

Wikipedia says "themes of angst and alienation, and as a critique of superficiality in society. The novel also deals with complex issues of innocence, identity, belonging, loss, connection, sex, and depression."

I'm sure a few (or all) of these themes are ideas that Ray and Sand could connect with. 

But Sand is probably going to learn he can’t save everyone, or even himself. Empathy *is* a finite resource and sometimes you need to learn who to give it to.

Looking at the full lyrics-

I've always been the one to carry you home  Always been the one to catch you  All the things we've done  When everything went down  I know we are never gonna get enough  And maybe it's better to let it go  We'll never be the same  Tell me what you're going through  Won't you tell me, all the things that you do  Tell me, make your wish come true  I know that everyone is sorry next to you  And I am next to you  It's been a long time since we had it all  It's been a while since I was your catcher in the rye  And now it's gone  We don't even seem to care at all  But maybe it's better to move along  We'll always be the same  All this time I wondered, now I realize  Let me reach out to you  Tell me what you're going through  Won't you tell me, all the things that you do  Tell me, make your wish come true  I know that everyone is sorry next to you  And I am next to you  And I am next to you

Song is about taking care of someone, but that someone does not realize it and is not seeing the person standing right next to them. Pleading with someone to just tell them what’s wrong, or talk to them. Which mirrors a song Ray sings, more on that in the EP2 post. Looking at this as something that is and will happen, Sand is already saving Ray from himself, he is going to try to be Rays savior. He already can't resist the puppy dog eyes Ray gave him when he was drunk in the car at the bar. Come back to this song with Ray and Sand in future episodes.

Themes- Wanting to be seen, Talking/Communicating, Saving, things falling apart.

Song: Go Quiet by Torii Wolf Scene: Top and Mew are eating ice cream/in bed Type: Verbal/Playful

There is a soft acoustic guitar that plays until Top asks if he stay the night, there is a pause in the music while Mew says Yes, but they’re not going to do anything. Top asks “how about a cuddle” and Go Quiet starts after Mew says ok. The next scene Top and Mew are in bed, the lyrics “Come and tell me…” happen as Mew is rolling over, almost as an invitation. Which Top takes.

Come and tell me  What you need to know  We can stoke it  And make it grow come and ask me  What you want to know  And we can go from here  Our world just keeps turning  And here I am still learning 

The lyrics not in the show continue:

And here I am still learning  About  What it is that you need  What it is you’d bleed for  Longing and yearning  Deeply burning  For you  Are you staying with me  Help me feed it  Slow down Let our minds go quiet now  No sound  Let our hands do the talking now  Do You see how  This fire grows  Rapid  Nobody knows  How it started  Or where it will go  I can’t stop now  Baby no  Are you staying with me  Tell me you need it  Slow down Let our minds go quiet now  No sound  Let our hands do the talking now

First part is about talking to someone, getting to know them, and “stoking the fire”. Learning about them. As it continues into the part not said in the show, it’s about talking and learning about the other person to grow their desire, until they can let their minds go quiet and let the desire take over. Which could be very much what Mew wants. He’s asked Top if he knew him well enough to know that Mew’s apartment fit him. He wants to grow a relationship, not just have sex. On Top’s side, he needs to sleep with someone to let his mind go quiet, more in EP2.

Nobody knows  How it started  Or where it will go  I can’t stop now  Baby no  Are you staying with me  Tell me you need it 

Also this part especially "Are you staying with me or are we temporary" is like the bookstore question in the second half of ep1.

Themes: fire, growing, lust, yearning

Part 2 of Episode 1 here

#only friends the series #ofts plant thoughts #ofts #Only friends music #Plant's OFTS Music #SoundCloud

[gender-buddies]

Final Thoughts on Gender Buddies

All in all the project wasn't too bad! I thought that I'd run into way more artist's block, but I managed to come up with a lot of good ideas pretty quickly. Once I stopped overthinking it, it was easy to come up with some good designs. It helped that I stopped making the Buddies so high-concept after phase 1. At a certain point I was coming up with these designs on the fly rather than sketching them in my notebook, taking a bunch of notes, then moving them to a digital format. Streamline!

There are a few designs I would love to redo (looking at you, Aesthetigender.) I also had some lofty plans to have "items" that followers could use on Buddies to change their elements, or to turn them into the fluid or flux version of the genders they represent, meaning I would draw new designs for them. I was also hoping to release some "special edition" Buddies to commemorate important dates, like when I posted Neogender on New Year's Day (another design I didn't like all that much.) I was also supposed to post Demiboy as a birthday Buddy (I'm a demiboy and would have posted it on my birthday to celebrate my identity), but never did and instead posted it as part of the original 120.

Yes, I do want to take requests. I didn't accept or deny requests that I got because I didn't want to give away which Buddies were or weren't planned, but now I can do the requests! There are two that I plan to draw in the near future, but I mostly want to take a break for a month or two before touching them. But I'll totally take requests. If I have time, I'll post a list of every single Buddy I drew so it's all in one place and followers don't have to search so much.

I think my biggest disappointment was the lack of follower interaction (like comments and asks) and the lack of popularity. I was hoping for more followers and more talk about it (I barely saw anything discussed in the YB3 server even though I was posting a lot of updates.) I don't typically worry about the numbers, but I feel like it would have at least pulled in some new followers from my YouTube channel or something! That feels silly though, but this is the first time I've ever finished a planned project, and it was a big deal for me.

Maybe I'll do another similar project in the future, maybe one with a lot less structure. I put a TON of thought into the stats and into which Buddies would make it into each phase. I use Trello for all my planning and you should see what it looks like! It legitimately looks like I'm programming a Pokemon game or something!

This project really helped me get better at drawing because I was drawing so regularly, and that's after spending years not drawing anything at all. I have some newly developed muscle and nerve issues in my dominant hand from intense restaurant work, so that was a struggle for me. But I eventually embraced the shaky lines and slightly off proportions and saw those things as features rather than mistakes. It's not great as an artist to embrace things that clearly need adjusting, but it is what it is. I'm an amateur and self-taught. It's okay if I suck at drawing!

Feel free to send asks about any of the Buddies and I'll gladly talk about where I got the ideas for them and what they're based on. Phase 9 and 10 Buddies have artist commentaries in their replies and I do have posts with artist commentaries for previous phases, but I would love to talk more about individual designs!

Anyway, thank you for supporting my silly little project. Now my focus is on my dragon story worldbuilding crap (@project--eclipse.)💙

#gb.txt #gb.update #artist commentary

[kaijuposting]

Details about Hermann Gottlieb's personality in the novelization that (probably) came from the bio written by Guillermo del Toro.

With Newt and Hermann's bios never being posted on Guillermo del Toro's Twitter account like Mako, Raleigh, and Pentecost's were, I decided to try and comb the novelization for information that might have been derived from their bios, based on it dovetailing with Guillermo del Toro's general writing style and habits. The following is a list of personality/psychological-related stuff that I currently believe were based on Hermann's bio: Psych evaluation reveals fundamental need to create distance between self and any problem, using data and mathematics as buffer. Obsessive neatness of person and workspace also reveals this impulse to maintain controlling distance. Currently estranged from father due to differences of opinion about value of Jaeger project as opposed to Pacific Perimeter Program. Inveterate filer of complaints, primarily against Kaiju Science colleague Dr. Newton Geiszler (q.v.). PPDC psychological staff recommends accepting but not acting on these complaints. (p. 73-74) Note: The above comes from Hermann's personnel dossier. Since Mako, Raleigh, and Pentecost's dossiers are all very clearly abridged versions of the bios Guillermo del Toro wrote, one can assume it's the same for Hermann's. Also, filing ridiculous complaints is very much the kind of thing del Toro might play for laughs, similar to how the character of Tom Manning was used for comedy in Hellboy and Hellboy II: The Golden Army. He [Newt] went to the fridge and dug around in it until he had half a salami and cheese sandwich, some German potato salad, and a bag of baby carrots that belonged to Hermann. (p. 98-99.)

Note: Guillermo del Toro's character bios pretty much always mention a number of specific food items characters enjoy eating.

numbers language of the universe and they will hide me I can hide behind them because they are never angry they are never wrong they choose no sides and expect nothing they are purely themselves and will never betray me ... Gottlieb was soldering together a robot can I build an intelligence that will pass a Turing test and if I could of course I can I must never say anything about it until it is done or Father will (p. 268-269) Note: The above is supposed to represent Hermann's stream of consciousness during his drift with Newt and baby Otachi, hence the odd writing style. With problematic to horrible fathers being a common element in del Toro's work, I think it's a safe guess that this was all based on his bio. Unfortunately, the novelization omits Hermann's POV except for when he drifts with Newt, so there isn't a lot of material here. But what there is suggests that Hermann was conceptualized as a deeply traumatized individual who tries to avoid conflict wherever possible, likely to the point of avoiding people when he can, and trying to supplicate them when he can't. This, I believe, is evidenced in the elevator scene, where Newt says "Hermann! These are human beings! Why don't you say hello?", and where Hermann (unsuccessfully, lol) tries to head off potential conflict with Raleigh with "You'll have to excuse him, he's a kaiju groupie; he loves them." (And speaking of the elevator scene, if you haven't seen the extended version where Newt addresses Raleigh as "guy" and tells Hermann to stop saluting Pentecost yet, you should!)

It also seems that Hermann was imagined as someone who tries to cope with all the things he can't control by controlling everything that he can - one notable example being 50% of the k-sci lab. It would appear that "no kaiju entrails on my side of the room!" doesn't just indicate a desire to keep his space physically clean, but it's also indicative of his ongoing refusal to let the chaotic and unpredictable Newt inside emotionally.

So yeah, it would really be great if all of the character bios were released (not to mention the 250 page universe bible... sigh), but... since they aren't, I'm just gonna have to resort to doing stuff like this, lol.

#pacific rim #pacific rim novelization #hermann gottlieb #doctor hermann gottlieb

[karinasbaby]

your reblog !! haven’t used tumblr in a hot minute and realized i couldn’t respond right back as a direct comment 😕 but i’m sending a message in ur inbox because don’t we all love getting those?

i’ve made a mental note to go through your list of works (including the one you just posted!) because i loooove your writing style and the ideas you bring to the table. i also enjoy giving feedback in the form of long post comments because it feels right to be vocal about how much i love certain things. i also think jay should personally ask me for my number so we can get the ball rolling 🤩

anyway i adore you equally and hope you’ve been having a very good week <3

MY SWEETEST JOSEPHINE HIIII :D !! <3 you’re always welcome in my inbox baby !! you’re so right we all do love getting those😭🫶🏼

pls you’re actually making me giggle and laugh like a crazy girl rn like wdym you’re gonna read all of them (im so nERVOUSSS) i will for sure be looking forward to ur reactions :0 !! and i really really hope that u enjoy them !! thank u so so much for ur sweet and kind words baby they mean so much to me :( thank u for enjoying my writing and all the random and questionable ideas that i have i appreciate this so so much my love !! and me & u are on the same boat when it comes to giving feedback in the form of long comments ! personally i have a passion to yap continuously with no intentions of stopping especially when it comes to my friends’ works (as u can tell by the way i can’t stfu about hana rn🙏🏼) and i love love love reading feedback in the form of long comments they never fail to make me feel so warm bcs they’re always so sweet 😭 and i’ll be texting jay as soon as possible to ask for ur number baby i’ve got you 💪🏼 i genuinely can’t wait to start yapping about ur works now ESPECIALLY the hee fic i saw u post that’s gonna be a whole feast 🙏🏼 and pls do add me in ur sunghoon smau that i will be catching up on the moment i’m free bcs i’ve been wanting to read it for ages now !!!

again, thank you so much for taking time of ur day to send me this sweet ask that i’ll cherish :( sending u so so much love baby and i hope u have an incredible day ! week ! month ! & year !! love u so so much baby sending u so many hugs & kisses :] !! ♡♡

#asks & responses <3 #genuinely in love with u but shhh #ᓭི༏ᓯྀ‧₊˚ — ♡ 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. #— seph ! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[therealieblog]

Soft Dieting

I had to boot someone from my Intuitive Eating group yesterday for promoting when I’m going to call “soft dieting”. 

She hailed herself as an Intuitive Eating coach, and promised to help people “stop obsessing over food and fitness.” 

There were red flags of course. I watched a Ted Talk she did, which was actually fantastic. It was all about fatphobia and how it intersects with social justice. How some people just don’t have access to healthy food or expensive gyms and how we have to look at our attitudes toward health and fatness. All really good stuff. 

Except in the group, she keeps posting, encouraging people to participate in “healthy behaviors outside of weight”. OK. Fine. The thing is, there are red flags. 

1. During her Ted Talk, she discussed how she used to be obsessed with dieting and weight loss. But how she got over that, and learned to love herself and stopped restricting. Only she’s still thin. So, you were starving yourself for years, and then you stopped starving yourself, and your body stayed at the same exact weight? Maybe she put on five pounds, but when I hear about someone having severe issues with eating, then stopping the behaviors that were keeping them at a low weight, and then they stay at a low weight.... I doubt that they actually did give up dieting. 

2. She looks perfect. From her perfect hair to her perfect makeup, perfect clothes. Her photo is on her blog. She needs people to know how attractive she is as a sales technique, and I seriously doubt she’s somehow sloughed off society’s expectations of her looks if she still looks like a model. 

3. The emphasis on “healthy behaviors”. I get it. We can all pursue health without dieting. I agree with that. But if you’re claiming to be over healthism, why do you keep talking about it? Why are you posting lists of “healthy activities that don’t involve food.” that include the amount of water you should drink in a day, the hours of movement you should aim for. If you use numbers in your advice about health, you’re still stuck in healthism. You still believe that a certain amount of exercise/sunlight/water etc. is optimal and promotes health. 

She needs to learn that everyone is different, and that when you’re in a group full of people who’ve just stopped dieting, or who are still trying to break free of dieting, this focus on gently pursuing health by telling people they should drink this much water, or get at least this much movement per day, is pretty damaging. 

These issues are so subtle, and I don’t expect anyone who even has a toe in diet culture to understand, but we are all free to pursue health in our own way, or to NOT PURSUE HEALTH AT ALL. The not at all part clearly didn’t sit well with her. She clearly still thinks that in order to be good, you need to be pursuing health. He whole business is built on it. Because if you aren’t promoting health, then you have no business. There’s nothing to sell. There’s very little money in “Take a walk if that makes you happy, and if you don’t like walking, just... don’t.” And way more money in “you should really be doing *something* for your health at all times, even if it’s gentle and subtle”

Anyhoo. I’ll get down off my soap box, but I really wanted to talk about how deeply insidious this “Soft Dieting” is for a community of people trying to dismantle diet culture. How swiftly it can nose dive back into dieting behaviors as you worry that you haven’t moved enough, or drank enough water to be considered healthy. Don’t fall for it. You do what’s best for your body, regardless of the opinions of fake IE blogs. 

#intuitive eating #diet culture

[watercolor-hearts]

So if you can answerr the ao3 wrapped: 5 6 15 and 29 please 😊

[Ao3 wrapped – Ask me about my stories/writing this year.]

Hi 😊 Of course I can. Thank you so much for asking. Long post ahead because... I love talking about writing/my stories. 😂❤

5. Has a work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Yes, Broken Hearts and Broken Dreams: 14 subscriptions, 2875 hits, 131 kudos, 5 comments, 9 bookmarks.

When I posted my first Lestappen story (not this one) I was surprised how quickly the hits and kudos count climbed. And then I realized Lestappen was the top ship. (For me it's always Maxiel so that's why it was surprising.) And in case of this story the big amount of feedback was also surprising because it's about non-planned pregnancy, abortion and it's... not about easy topics. But it was nice to see people liked it so much. (It's my number one story if we view them by hits count.)

6. Favorite title you used

I don't have artsy titles, I usually just pick something from the story and make it the title so they're really basic but I still can't choose only one so here are all my faves:

Battle scar; Broken Hearts and Broken Dreams; In Sickness and In Health; Blood, sweat and tears; and Home.

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

For sure I'm gonna take In Sickness and In Health/Depressed Seb AU with me into next year because I still have a lot of story ideas for it. I'm planning to finish at least one this year but I'm sure I'll write for this au next year too. Having this little universe means a lot to me. ❤

And I think I'll also take my Charlos mpreg/premature birth/male lactation story into next year because even though I stopped talking about it, I still want to write it (uni was a bit too much and I had no time to write. But tomorrow (now today because it's now past midnight as I finish this post) is my last day so I hope I'll be able to write again soon.)

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Now this is a difficult one because so far I've written 47 stories this year. (Big big thanks to Em and Nyx for sending me my first ever prompts and giving me a chance to start this amazing journey. ❤ And also big thanks to everyone who has ever sent me a prompt. It means a lot. ❤)

Now I'm gonna try and list as few of my fave lines as I can because I don't want to copy and paste all of my fave stories here but it's not always easy. 😂 (Mission (kind of) failed. Sorry.)

In Sickness and In Health

In sickness and in health, they say. Seb and Kimi knew it well.

•

“Just a little snack,” Seb said, heading to the kitchen. He knew he needed to eat but there were times when it wasn't that easy. But for Kimi, he tried. Kimi saved him, he’ll always try for him.

•

Seb was holding on to Kimi’s upper arm like he was scared Kimi would leave him alone. Not that Kimi wanted to do that. He would never leave Seb alone.

•

He knew his back would be dead if he slept there but, to be honest, the only thing he cared about was his lover on top of him, sleeping peacefully; a calm moment after all the storms of the last few weeks, even months. Therapy sessions, arguments, struggles with the food he was supposed to eat, and long nights filled with crying; it wasn’t easy. It’s never easy but now there’s always light at the end of the tunnel. 

Maybe I deserve all of this

“You know, when people see someone crying, they usually say something like ‘please don’t cry, it’s going to be alright’ because they… they don’t really know what to do when someone cries. Nobody really teaches you what to do.

•

“Can you… Can you take off your t-shirt?” George asked a few moments later.

“Already want me half naked, I see you, Georgie,” Alex teased, giving a quick kiss on George’s head before taking off his t-shirt.

“Just want to feel your skin,” George murmured, “And your heartbeat.”

•

“I wouldn't compare pain,” Alex said, “because it’s not something you can or should compare. It’s not about whose pain is worse. Everybody’s pain is valid and they deserve to get comforted if they want to.

•

We all have moments like this; when we’re vulnerable and just want someone to hold us.”

“And it’s one of the best things in the world when you have someone to hold you.”

I will kill you (but I will kill André first)

“Fuck,” Sam muttered under his breath, finally giving in and leaning back.

“Please wait with that,” André said, jokingly, making Jev laugh and Sam smile in disbelief. “I'm sure you could give a great lap dance to Jev but I don't want to see it. At least not this close.”

“I can't believe you, Lotterer,” Sam shook his head, laughing, “I fucking can't believe you.”

I'm breathing...

“Lewis, do I have to call a doctor?”

Lewis immediately shook his head. “No, it's okay, it's just… I just…” Lewis huffed as he tried to tilt his head back to open his airways more and let the air fill his lungs. He tried hard not to let panic fully take over his mind as the anxiety reached the top.

“Try to sit up,” advised Bono and tried to help Lewis by putting his hand on the driver's back, between his shoulder blades, to support him. “I know it's not easy now but try to breathe slowly,” the engineer advised as he caressed Lewis' back. “You can control your body. Trust yourself.”

The driver nodded, tilted his head back again, and closed his eyes to concentrate on his breathing. He felt like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs no matter how hard he tried or which breathing technique he used.

“You can do it, Lewis,” said Bono in his usual calm voice, “I know you can do it. Try to make these small breaths a little longer. If you manage to control your breathing, your heart will slow down too and then the strange feeling in your chest will go away.”

Home

“Your heartbeat sounds like home,” Seb said, breaking the silence a few moments later.

“Really?” Kimi asked, surprised. Seb has always been the cheesier one, but after everything that happened, this hit really close to home for Kimi. 

#dacchamp #simi #galex #lestappen #formula 1 #my writing

[ihhfhonao3]

Some hate I’ve gathered over the past two (2) days because I think they’d make funny copypastas. Tw for rabid ableism and transphobia because that’s just what people do on here I guess lmao

Having gender dysphoria is being delusional; you are deluded about your own body to the point where you seek to change it to conform to misogynistic stereotypes. Calling someone delusional who is, in fact, delusional, is not, in fact, ableism. Being delusional is undesirable. Being mentally ill is undesirable. Saying otherwise is ableist. Everything you listed is indicative of being delusional, besides the disabled bit. None of what you listed has anything to do with being disabled. Using the term "neurodiverse" to identify yourself is as fucking stupid as using "biodiverse" to identify a plant. The human population is neurodiverse, our planet is biodiverse. "Neurodiverse" is a term neither coined, nor used, nor sanctioned by neuroscientists. "Queer" is a slur against LGB (HOMOSEXUAL) people. It is not an identity. Being a delusional misogynistic, science-denier like all trans and "non-binary" people are, has nothing to do with being LGB. Additionally, there is no oppression that trans people face for being trans. Being a furry is disgusting, as well as delusional, and, again, has nothing to do with being LGB. No furry is oppressed; people find them disgusting bc they simply, by definition, are. I don't even really know what the fuck "otherkin" means and I don't want to. No one cares about this niche bullshit, and no one is oppressed due to their attempt to be it. Other people thinking you're stupid, misogynistic, homophobic, insane, obnoxious, and revolting isn't, in and of itself, a form of oppression. Sometimes, others think you're stupid, misogynistic, homophobic, insane, obnoxious, and revolting bc that's precisely what you are. I'm here to tell you that anyone who uses the "identities" you listed (besides being disabled), and/or believes in the ideologies connected to them; that person is stupid, misogynistic, homophobic, insane, obnoxious, and revolting. Grow the fuck up. Stop talking about LGB people, and stop including us in your larping puppyplay creepy bs. Your ahistoric delusional porn-sick behavior has nothing to do with us, and it never has.

@ihhfhonao3 tried to "call me out" by reposting my page to their blog, calling me a bigot etc. yet when I responded to their post with logic and explained that as a gay man I do not accept an ideology created by pe do John Money, they deleted my comments and responded with infantile and massochistic messages. This is so typical of the left, their hypocrisy, and their love of censorship.

I do not intend to harm any individual, however I will not hesitate to call bullshit on an ideology that is absolutely harming people. Its harming children and young people, its harming women, its harming LGB people. I have been "radicalized" by my first hand experience of narcissistic trans individuals, and my observation of the interesting correlation between governments, and corporations promotion of the "progressive" pride flag and all things trans. I absolutely believe there is a nefarious agenda.

Have there been "gender non confirming" people forever!? Absolutely. But they havent used drugs and surgery to ruin their bodies. It was only ever a very small number of people that were so non conforming as to be "cross dressing." Someone told me the other day in all seriousness that they didnt think men should wear shorts. Peoples ideas about conformity and gender are all over the map. You can wear whatever the f you want to now... just dont tell children that they need to become sterile to "be their true selves."

Yes gender separate from sex is a construct. Its a normative set of traits. However these things are not at all concrete. To conflate ones biology with the clothes one likes to wear is NORMATIVE CAPITULATION! So why are the supposed rebels perpetuating NORMATIVE STEREOTYPES!?

Its ludicrous and is evidence that these people are actually weak minded victims of a massive psychological operation fomented many decades ago. These same people will say thats just a "conspiracy theory" and yet believe that "THE PATRIARCHY MUST BE SMASHED," yet want to give children's bodies and minds over to Pharma Corp and Rockefeller medicine!?

It is a psy op.

There are autogynaphilics, and there are gay men with internalized homophobia. These are mental states of confusion. They are not lifestyles to be celebrated or something to take pride in.

These people are not part of the LGB. They are hostile to everything that LGB is. Drag queens and transvestites are not transexual. You are not born in the wrong body. You are not too "butch" to be a woman, or to "femme" to be a man. Gender separate from sex is just a concept, a lens, a made up thing like unicorns. We can talk about them, but it doesnt make them real.

This is a nuanced conversation that must occur before its all out war and were literally murdering each other in the street. Thats what the puppet masters want. They want chaos. They want us hating each other. I dont hate people, but I do hate lies. And I will stand up to lies and liars till my very last breath.

Not all people who identify as “queer” are mentally ill, but you definitely are, OP. Seek help, please, as wanting to be dehumanized and suffering from violent mood swings are very serious signs of deep disturbance. Also I don’t believe you have the “spoons” to make a phone call, let alone rip out someone’s entrails.

#transphobes #homophobia #ableism #online harassment #cyberbullying #i hate it here #randos getting mad at me #copypasta

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

More Writing Chat!

Adopted tag game from @commander-krios - since I’ve been going wild with the tags lately, I’ll restrain myself from tagging anyone in particular but please do pick this up if you want (I did!) and tag me in your post! <3 On with the questions:

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

13, though it should be 14. (I have a short WWDITS fic from a couple of years ago, originally published in a zine, that I keep forgetting to archive!)

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

132,892

3) What fandoms do you write for?

BG3, Ambition: A Minuet In Power, Hades and What We Do in the Shadows

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Sharp Teeth, Rolan x Tav, E

2. Après Theâtre, Guillermo x Nandor, T

3. Sharess’s Sundries, Rolan x Tav, E

4. Planar Tears, Rolan x OFC, E

5. Tail and Tongue, Rolan x Tav, E

5) Do you respond to comments?

HELL YES. Every time, with the rare exception that if someone’s left six in a row within like one day on the same fic, I might only respond to half of them (although if they’re in depth, you bet I’m responding to every single one). It’s second nature to me: comments just give me such an amazing warm glow and I feel compelled to share it right back <3 I honestly have to stop myself from replying too quickly if I happened to be checking my email in the moment a comment came in. If you’ve ever thought ‘Jesus she’s fast’… I probably wanted to reply even faster. Lol.

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Honestly, I haven’t written any with angsty endings. I guess I like my fluff, in fanfic. I’m working on an original novel that will eventually have a bittersweet/open ending I think. But that’s going very slowly.

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ooh, good question. Maybe Sharp Teeth. They saved the world, after all. Tav goes from impending death, and Rolan from precarity and abuse, to love and a happily (grumpily) ever after.

Ribbons also ends with Yvette and Ludovico living their blissful, unconventional happily-ever-after in Rome. So maybe that too.

8) Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I don’t think I’ve ever written for pairings that are a locus of that kind of attention. The closest I’ve ever got is spotting a comment in the fanfic subreddit that I’m 95% sure was complaining about the ear licking in Sharp Teeth specifically lol. Which amused me greatly.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! M/F mostly, though I’ve also written a bit of F/F. And mostly kinky, lol. The list of kink stuff I want to explore is LONG.

10) Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not against it, but haven’t had one occur to me yet.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. I think I’m too small a fish for that!

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

See 11), haha

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Currently co-writing a very goofy Shane/Farmer & Krobus gift fic with my girlfriend for our flatmate! This reminds me I need to work on it. Purely a private fun gift exchange - she knits us socks <3

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

This doesn’t super work as a question for me, because it’s usually whatever I’m currently obsessed with. But from the sheer number of times I’ve read the book, and watched the 1995 BBC series - Elizabeth and Darcy? (Otherwise I’m just going to say Rolan x Steel Weave Tav. Catrin’s in the doghouse for being difficult to write rn)

15) What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My Hades fic, ‘Family Gatherings’. I have a fun lil plan for Zag hanging out with each of his surface family in turn (sometimes in pairs/trios) and seeing how Meg/Than feel about it. And it is really fun and sweet - but unfortunately I started writing it at the tail end of my Hades obsession, so whilst I think it’ll get a couple more chapters at least, I’m not really motivated to finish.

I also want to finish my Yvette/Ludovico smut fic Britches, which has a pegging chapter that its audience of like 3 people have been waiting for for years - but since that’s half-written, it will definitely happen eventually!

16) What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm. I think I do characterisation well, particularly in dialogue - I try to imagine the characters speaking their lines to check that what I’ve written works. And sometimes I write really neat descriptive lines.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

White room syndrome for sure. I tend to hone in on the characters a lot and ignore the surroundings. Connective tissue - moving from one scene to another - can be a bit janky. Sometimes I can overdo facial expressions, and I rely on ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ a lot to describe all manner of feelings.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

This is a rogue q, haha. I have done it - Guillermo’s mum talks to him in Spanish - but my Spanish is secondary-school level so it’s not great. I did pre-emptively warn about it though, haha.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

As a kid, thinly-veiled Star Trek isekai that went nowhere. As an adult, WWDITS.

20) Favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh my god. Too hard to choose. I love all my fics. With that said (and with significant recency bias), Sharp Teeth. I’m so proud of writing my first novel (ish) length fic, and it brought me such joy to write.

I’ll also forever love my first fic, Après Theâtre. I re-read it recently for the first time in a while and honestly laughed so much at my own fucking jokes. I think I really nailed the tone of the show and that makes me so happy!

#cabbage writes #fanfic #tag game

[sweaterkittensahoy]

hi i just want to say i love love love ur blog and thank u for all the info on “rad feminism”. although i very much believe in / support / LOVE feminism (of course!!!!) i wasnt really aware of the term but i do hear it thrown around a lot so i’m shocked to hear that this type of “feminism” is discriminatory towards transgender people. feminism should be the complete OPPOSITE of that. calling urself a feminist and forcing ppl into boxes is CRAZY.

So, here's a post I reblogged today that looks at how radfems and TERFs are doing shit on tumblr to try and indoctrinate people, and I just want to share that because there's further good information about their tactics.

The history of radfems is 100% wrapped in gatekeeping and control tactics. Very short history: Radfems were birthed out of second wave feminism. Up until that point, feminism was something pursued in the public sector most often by women who had the means and time to focus fully on activism. So, upper middle-class white women. There were BIPOC women in every aspect of feminism from the beginning, but due to socioeconomic factors and just plain old racism, those women were rarely listened to outside their own sphere of influence.

In second wave, BIPOC women had finally gained some upward mobility economically and socially that opened the doors to do more in the wider world of the feminist movement. When they went to the white women in charge of the movement and said, "Hey, we have supported and worked for your concerns for decades. Here are things that are especially affecting BIPOC women, and we would greatly appreciate the reciprocation of everything we've put into the movement.

To which the upper middle-class white women who had the power in the movement basically said, "No, those things don't affect us, so we don't care."

Out of this schism came a lot of white women who couldn't believe other women were "betraying" them by putting the needs of their communities ahead of what white women wanted. And that was the birth of radical feminism, the idea that anyone who called themself "feminist" disagreeing with these women were the enemy and had to be silence and stopped.

Several decades later, third wave feminism was able to really start discussing intersectional feminism where even if your concerns aren't mine, they are valid because you are speaking from an experience and a community I don't have. But we are all striving for human rights, dignity, and respect, so fighting for the rights of one woman is fighting for rights for all of us. Third wave isn't (wasn't? I'm not sure if we've actually rolled into fourth wave at this point) perfect. White Feminism is still an issue. Getting people who say they believe in the rights of all women to realize that means women they find fundamentally terrible deserve the same human rights is a problem. People wanting to put Western Feminism Ideals onto other cultures like Japan and the Middle East is a problem.

Meanwhile, Radical Feminists have built a walled-off city where they can all yell about how they're the truest and purest feminists and anyone who disagrees with them is mentally ill, or hates women, or is an abuse apologist. Amongst many other claims.

The difference between Radfems and Feminists is that Radfems don't want to bring in anyone who doesn't absolutely agree with them on every point. Feminists want to open the doors and welcome anyone trying to genuinely help all women achieve human dignity. It's not a perfect system. As listed above, there are issues in the movement to this day that will likely persist until the universe ends, but at the core of it, Radfems want total agreement and loyalty, and Feminists are seeking to build a community where we understand one another and support one another even if my problem isn't your problem.

The most important thing to remember, I think, is this: The number of radfems is actually pretty small. They're just fucking loud. And I think the reason they've gotten so loud is that more and more people are realizing their goals aren't to educate or help but to shame and control, and so they're getting louder about how they're the real victims and MUST fight back against people who disagree with them, whether directly or not because they're trying to "save" the "real" feminists. They're not trying to save anyone except themselves and the rest of their cult, and to hell with the rest of us. But, there's more of us seeking real community and care than radfems, so I think we'll win in the end. We just have to remember that we're in this together, and that keeping the door open to new ideas and information is a very powerful tool.

#radfems #feminism #intersectional feminism

[evergreen-oflife]

Saw Declan Welsh & The Decadent West live on Wednesday night, and I was blown away with the way they took over the stage. Declan’s stage presence was just amazing, he is so expressive and lively and absolutely put his whole soul into each song which was amazing to witness. Definitely went right up to the top of my list of live performers I wish to see again. Already adored them for their music and values, but wow the energy radiating off the stage was just amazing! What really blew me away was the two speeches they made, one in solidarity with Palestine and their experiences there before playing their song Different Strokes. The second speech leading to their song Do What You Want, my sister managed to catch on record almost in it’s entirety. I’m posting it because it felt so personal to me, it felt so so special to be in a room full of strangers and hear it and feel, for a second, the power in people. The power in us. Because while I love softness and I love kindness, I do miss a bit of punk and anarchist attitude. We should, as a matter of fact be getting pissed off about being fucked over, we do deserve better and we should be fighting for our rights! We should unite over the important stuff!

”…..and when ever that happens, the people who wish things would just stay the same, become increasingly desperate in trying to create, new parayas, new scapegoats, new people or actions to focus on, and in the last few years one of the most pronounced efforts has been seen in the strange fixation on trans people.

The transphobia taking over institutions and media, despite the fact that almost every public attitude survey, in most countries, say again; people just wanna let people live their lives. So why is this manufactured? Well, number one: Straight up bigotry! Some people hate other people because of who they are. And that’s fucking shit, and those people are not worth our conversation or attention.

But secondly: The only way that we change things is through creating a big group of different kinds of people, who all understand what is to get fucked over. We are fucked over in different ways, for different reasons and at different pains. But unless you have a personal net-worth of over one million dollars; welcome to the fucked over club, we are happy to have you!

And they know, the people who have a lot right now; Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, Jeff Bezos... That the biggest danger to them is that if poor people, transpeople, black people, white people, asian folks, women, straight people and queer people… all realise here: If we can unite over one thing; being fucked over, there’s no way they can stop us. So they try and pun you against other people, who should be with allied.

Do you know how I know that hey are our allies? Is that if you go and march with Palestine, you’ll see a trans flag. If you go at a march about women’s rights, you’ll see a trans flag, if you go at an anti-war march you’ll see a trans flag, if you go to a march about trade union rights, you will see a trans flag. Because when you are a part of a community that has been oppressed, you’ll understand what solidarity is. You understand it’s importance. Let’s learn from our times comrades, and be there for everyone, no matter how much their experience is like ours!”

#declan welsh #dwdw #human rights #common people #queer rights #trans rights #the fucked over club #burn the empire

[hansthevisualthinker]

We're drawn to making our mark, leaving a record to show we were here, and a journal is a great place to do it.

Once you start drawing, writing and gluing stuff in every day it can quickly become a habit – addictive, even. Your attitude should be: "I can do this, but I musn't make it too intimidating." It should all be easy to accomplish – here's how.

1. Time yourself

A good technique to avoid giving up or getting bored is to give yourself 10 minutes maximum per day to make your mark.

Ideally, you'll go to your journal every day, and that can feel repetitive, so tricks like this are great for making it feel more doable.

2. Do not fear the blank page

Start by thinking small, so it's not too overwhelming. You don't need to create a masterpiece; you just need to write or draw something in the journal every day to get into the swing of it. When you first sit down to try, you may think your life is pretty boring and you have nothing to put in your journal, but as you start to think harder, you'll realise how much you see each day.

When I first started, I challenged myself in little ways to just make marks on the page, setting easy tasks such as writing a list of everything I'd consumed in one day, or a list of five things I saw, heard, smelled, tasted or touched. Another favourite exercise was dripping a blob of ink on to a page and blowing it with a straw. It's so simple but incredibly satisfying to make spidery, tree-like shapes.

As I began to see the pages fill up with images and ideas, I had this sense of: "Yes, I'm creating something."

3. Avoid screens

I find the experience of keeping a journal much more creative on paper than on a computer. When I write, I'm physically immersed in the world and slow down, whereas on screen, I use my senses in a less engaged way – and I skim more. Something different happens to my brain when I put pen to paper: the pace of writing or drawing slows you down and gives you more time for thoughts to come in.

A nice exercise is to write, or draw, as slowly as you can – it's so different from the usual way we get stuff out there – via tweets, texts or emails in easy chunks.

Try pausing more often, and take your time to complete a sentence or draw a line, and you'll find it's a very different way of working.

4. Be destructive!

Give yourself permission to experiment, play around with material and make a mess. What does it feel like to rub dirt on the page? See what happens when you do. Above all, stop caring about the outcome. It doesn't have to be great, but exists as something you did that day.

The whole point is getting stuff on the page. Once it's out there, it can become fodder for other work; I had one page in a journal where I collected just white things, and it later became part of a short film – it's all material for other ideas.

5. Make your journal precious

A lot of people don't like to spend money on a journal because they're afraid to wreck it, which is understandable. I buy beautifully made leather-bound journals because I have lost my fear of the blank page.

My journals are precious in a different way. I love everything that comes out of them and I want them to last, to be durable. I don't worry about them getting wrecked, and I enjoy them more as they fill up. The more daring I get, the more unruly they become.

6. Collect everything

Anything you come across in daily life is great for a journal – a lot of my pages are full of artefacts I've glued in: a piece of paper I found on the ground that someone had discarded, labels from the Post Office, ticket stubs, anything with numbers on it, a thin piece of bright orange fencing from a construction site; anything where I really enjoy the colour.

All this stuff looks even better when you present it in a grid, or pair things together to see how they play off each other.

7. Make it random

I use a lot of chance in my work and try not to intervene too much – I'll just drop stuff onto the page and see what happens.

One great collage exercise is getting a magazine or newspaper, something with lots of nice colour, then cutting out circles from several pages of it, so you have around 50 of them you can randomly play with; combine the colours, see how they mix and match or drop them randomly and glue where they fall. It's so fast to do and very satisfying.

8. Just try it

Often, we don't try things, because we think we know what's going to happen: we make assumptions about outcomes. When you keep a journal, you realise that the really interesting thing is not knowing what will happen, and discovering an unexpected result.

#journaling #journal #notebook #commonplace book #journalspo #journal spread #studyblr #self study #study #love notes

[lighthouse-app]

Hi! Some questions about the systems and subsystems stuff.

In our system, we like to make little descriptions of things. I was wondering if there could be some more system/subsystem settings therefore. Like maybe adding brief descriptions to each system page? It would be really helpful in our personal case because of our individual system functioning and all that. We've been using the forum section to describe our subsystems for now

The second question also pertains to some kind of system/subsystem settings, which is if you could add an option for displaying people in a nested subsystem inside the parent system page? It would just be an on-off switch. It would be a useful setting for us personally, since we have plenty of two-person subsystems and similar, and it would save the hassle of jumping back and forth between subsystem pages

My last question is also a subsystem setting, but I'd like to ask if you've had any thoughts to implement subsystem journals? Like how we have the communal journal in the My System overview, it would be helpful to have a similar thing for subsystems. Especially one of our subsystems are less "separated" between their members, and I think they'd appreciate being able to have a communal journal for just them along with the individual journals when they really know who's fronting in their subsystem

And on the journals, sometimes when our system don't know who's fronting, we still like to make journal entries just to jot down our thoughts (and hopefully figure out who we are in the process). So like how there's a Blurry option for forum posts, could there be some kind of blurry option for journal entries that isn't connected to the communal journal? (We've noticed that you can move entries between individual people, but not from the communal journal to a single member)

Hope this isn't too much, apparently I had a lot of thoughts on the matter. So much love to this website and the work you put into it, and take care of yourselves today! 👏👏

Hopefully it's ok to answer this in a numbered list format haha

We really like the idea of adding a descriptor to systems and subsystems! We'll add that to the list.

The idea of doing that, letting subsystem members be shown, is in the works. What's currently stopping that from being worked on right now is figuring out how to better load the system page. Right now, large systems are noticing the site crashing due to the volume of data being recalled/memory being used. So we're gonna work on paginating the system page as well. When we have that squared away, we'll start adding subsystem member cards to that page as well!

We do want to add sub-system journals at some point as well. I think with how much we want to add, it might be best to start, like, "theming" updates. Like, for one update we solely work on forums, or subsystems, etc. The reason we haven't done an alter -> communal journal function yet is that the communal journal is actually stored in a separate database with different parameters than alter journals. Looking back, we probably should have made their databases one and the same haha.

Thank you for the insight!! We're really happy to be helping a bunch of people like this. <3

#dee speaks