Do You Think I Enjoy Being Like This?

⟪“Do you think I enjoy being like this?”⟫

Admittedly, I’m writing this during a period where I should be studying. I have an exam in T-11 hours, but yet, the only thing that I has been poking and prodding at the back of my mind is this—these characters. And the fact that writing to you back and forth for over the past few weeks has been like writing intimate and sentimental letters to a friend. I enjoy this very much, and knowing that there are only a few more chapters left, a few more thousand words left of the story between these two, makes a ball of emotions gather at the pit of my throat.

It’s bittersweet.

Last chapter, I was looking forward to their tomorrow. Wondering where their point of no return, their Pandora’s Box, would lead to. However, I wasn’t expecting it to be like this, where pain and angst are at the forefront. People usually say that things get worse before it gets better, and that’s the mantra that I’m going to be holding onto close to my heart.

Another thing that I’d like to admit is that I’ve read this chapter two...actually three times now as I’m currently gathering my thoughts, and the last part, the part where the main character says,

As you furiously try to wipe your tears away, one escapes your hand and makes its way to the floor. But just before the salty liquid hits wood, the drop vanishes into thin air.

As if it had never been there, as if it had never existed.

It hurts. A lot, actually. A part of it is because somehow my music shuffled to the song ‘i love you’ by Billie Eilish, which is a sick joke played by the universe in my opinion to get me more emotional, but I digress.

I think though that this is the first time that I thought about my life through a character’s experience. While I’m sitting here tearing up and the possibility of having tears fall down my cheeks is a warranted tangible entity, it is not for her. The things that I sometimes take for granted within my life is something that she wishes for herself. That made me think a lot. Feel a lot more, and I thank you. Even though it’s a small line, it means everything to me.

I feel like I’ve been rambling through this, so I’m sorry, but I really hope that they are able to hopefully one day express how they feel about each other. I hope that they can have a relationship that breaks this platonic barrier with reciprocal hints that things could and can go forward and be more than what they are now. I hope that they can grow old together (is that even possible? Maybe one-sided, which is bittersweet in itself…). But for now, I will accept this and the fact that they’re trying to get a hand on their emotions right now. Break past their own barriers of anxiety toward the unknown. I mean, I bet Taehyung would have never thought that he would be living with a ghost, but here we are. And there he is, facing his own battles:

Why won’t they come out? The words he’s been meaning to say to you for - goddammit - weeks, and now it’s too late. He has hurt you in a way he never wanted to.

Even though this is a sad moment, for both the characters and the readers, I can empathize a bit with him. Not necessarily to the point of hurting someone, but I know that there have been some moments where speaking up about some things could have alleviated the burdens and battles within. But of course like everything in life, every action has a reaction, and it ultimately led to one of the most devastating moments in the story:

With the sound of the front door closing, you feel something finally snapping in you. Your knees give out, and you fall to the floor. A marionette whose strings have been cut, sunken in on itself, head hanging low.

This, as well as a few other lines that I highlighted, were so impactful. They sit in a pile in my chest, in my stomach, weighing heavily and so poignantly without a hint of ever eroding. Thank you for sharing your writing, August. I will forever and ever adore you and your words. I can’t wait to read more.💕

my tears ricochet #8 | kth

#8 at least one of us is living

word count: 828  words

series: my tears ricochet [masterlist]

summary: sometimes he speaks before his brain catches up to his mouth.

pairing: ghost!reader x taehyung

genre: ghost!AU, roommate!AU, fluff / angst / crack

warnings for this series:  sfw  // it’s   a ghost story, so death will be touched upon // questionable ghost   mythology //  language (curse words) //  still only edited by me and not betaread.

chapter warnings:  tension and fighting

A/N:   So. Here we are. At the beginning of the third and final arc. This is also the drabble that started it all. Let’s go back to December 20th when I went on a walk and Taylor Swift’s “my tears ricochet” came up and the line “i didn’t want to have to haunt you” took up residence in my brain (rent free), and this idea was born. I thought this was just one single drabble, and then two days later I had a plan for a 13-part series. At the beginning I thought I’d keep each drabble at 500 words max. That obviously didn’t work. Thank you for being on this ride with me.

#7 i am good i am grounded – #9 it’s not living (if it’s not with you)

___

“Well, I didn’t ask to be here, either. I’d also rather be able to move around freely and not be bound to this stupid old house and deal with your stupid foul mood right now. But I guess this is what we have to live with.”

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home; slow dance with me | kth x reader

home; slow dance with me | kim taehyung x reader

part of the home drabble series

genre | CEO!taehyung, dad!taehyung, established relationship, fluff summary | The warmth of another body pressed up against yours - the knowledge that you’re not facing the world alone - is all you need sometimes. rating | PG13 word count | 1.5k words warnings | none a/n | if you (YES YOU!) are super stressed out by the burdens of living just!! like!!! me!!!!!!, then i hope this brings you comfort the same way writing this brought me so much comfort and peace :’) aLSO this is unedited yall bcos life keeps knocking me down lately and i desperately needed an outlet LIKE SLOW DANCING WITH TAE ORITE KTHXBYE

You slide your hand across the smooth sheets next to you, its coolness crisp but hollowing. You eye the pillow - the pair to your own - that’s propped up against the headboard, unused. Your lips pull down into a frown, settling into the position that’s become familiar over the last few days. You’re not moving, just laying with your hand outstretched into the empty other half of your bed, but the world feels like it’s spinning with the way your thoughts whirl round and round and round in your head. The weight of them pins you down, sits on your chest, shallowing out your breaths.

In a surge, you grab the discomfortingly pristine pillow from its place, squeezing it to your chest. Braving the shocking cold of the fabric against your warm skin under the cocooning blanket, you’re rewarded with the lightest of scents - barely sufficient - that lingers of your husband on his pillow. It doesn’t entirely quell the storm brewing within you. But it’s enough for now.

This week has been hard. Dealing with the extended business trips that Taehyung has to take has always been difficult - a troublesome inconvenience at its best, a gaping emptiness at its worst.

And this week has been the worst of all.

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interlude: july 1867.

to be in power is to protect.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader words: 1k contains: a familiar face. a/n: please note the year!

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 34. start from the beginning?

The newly-crowned king thinks his mother can be absolutely terrifying when it comes to obtaining what she desires. But at this moment, Yoongi is infinitely grateful for her hatred of backing down, as she stands before the throng of ministers with not a bit of hesitation or fear in her eyes. He is not nearly so brave (yet).

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𝐄𝐐𝟏 ♔♕ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

♔ SERIES PAIRING: king!namjoon x princess!reader (south asian reader)♔

♔ CHAPTER WARNINGS + RATING: sfw, nc17, almost all angst tbh, brief mention of poison, y/n and namjoon are in the midst of a disagreement, honestly a mess of a problem between them, a mess of YEARNING most importantly. ♔

♔ SERIES SUMMARY: namjoon’s hopes for a blossoming relationship between you and him withers little by little with each passing day like a tree’s leaves between autumn and winter. a particular, significant dispute between the two of you becomes the last straw, marking a hiatus in your relationship as you depart his kingdom in favor of home. your husband allows you to spend your winter away from him, promising a return when the flowers bloom again. however, you’ve seemingly plucked the petals out of spring’s first batch of flowers, adamant on staying until your voice would be heard. ♔

♔ SERIES GENRE + WARNINGS: JODHAA AKBAR!AU, royal au, my attempt at something somewhat historical (joon —> king of goguryeo) [ i apologize for any inaccuracies ], angst, ARRANGED MARRIAGE, big cultural differences, sword fighting but make it romantic (if you’re namjoon) [with hints of sexual tension, but it’s a pretty casual fight], eventual smut. ♔

♔ A/N: ITS HERE ITS HERE ITS HERE AAAAAHHH. please enjoy this mess of a period fic i’ve started on. i’m HOOKED on to the concept of king!joon wanting to be a better man for his wife. my biggest hugs and kisses go to @sahmfanficbts​ & @purpletigertaetae​ for beta-ing and giving me amazing pointers and @moononthejoon​ & @sunsetae​ for letting me vomit out excerpts. but seriously i wouldn’t be publishing this if it weren’t for them. ♔

♔ WC: 5.1k ♔

♔ this falls under @thebtswritersclub​’s february prompt for “dishonest love”! will i finish the january prompt in due time?? we’ll see lol. ♔

♔ TAGLIST (OPEN): ♔

♔ CHAPTER GLOSSARY: ♔

mehendi - alternatively called henna, mehendi is a form of temporary body art originating from the henna plant. mehendi cones are used to create temporary tattoos over the skin. for special occasions in south asian culture, women receive mehendi tattoos. in context of the fic, women also receive abundant amounts of mehendi on their body (specifically the arms and feet) when they’re married. [ visual ]

ghoongat - serves as a veil to cover a woman’s face. a ghoongat coordinates with the colors of one’s clothes as well. most importantly, the main purpose of one is to obscure a woman’s face when she’s in the presence of other men, especially those that aren’t her husband. [ visual ]

lehenga - a type of clothing consisting of a blouse, skirt, and a shawl-like scarf, which doubles up as a ghoongat. [ visual ]

Central Square has never looked so colorful and festive, at least, ever since you left home. Or perhaps, maybe it was you who couldn’t see the color. 

Returning home after the tense compromise with your newly-arranged husband made you realize how unprecedented it was for you to make the trek back to your home kingdom. This wasn’t in the plans, not at all, which was why every nobleman and townsfolk watched wide-eyed as you returned to the soil of the land you were born in with wide eyes. 

“Your Highness, King Namjoon is coming to take you home. In fact, he’s only a few kilometers away. Surely you can not stay in your chambers forever,” one of your handmaidens reminded you. You’d lost count of how many times the same message but in different phrasings were iterated to you in the past fifteen minutes. The more you were reminded of his arrival, the more nostalgic you felt. A stomach-churning, head-twisting nostalgia in remembrance of brief moments that felt like a dream. 

Nothing in the world could mitigate the emotions in Namjoon’s gaze towards you from the first time you met him before the marriage had been confirmed. Something as simple as a gaze seemed to resonate in you for eternities. 

The curiosity in his eyes as you told him your two conditions for marrying him.

The wonder in his eyes as he gazed at patterns upon patterns of mehendi on your arms, seeming losing himself in the elegant swirls and floral designs.

The warmth in his eyes as he lifted your veil on your wedding day. 

The depth in his eyes as you requested your personal space on your wedding night.

The softness in his eyes as he indulged in a filling, delicious lunch, all from your hands. 

The flicker of guilt in his eyes when a misunderstanding led to a devastating hiatus in your relationship. 

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☽Welcome to Midnight Luxe☾

Grab a drink and get cozy. We're going to be here for a while~

A masterlist of all the things I've read (and some that still need to be)

Disclaimer: Most, if not all, of these fics are rated M for mature or 18+. So please do not interact with this blog nor any of the other blogs I have posted if you are not of age.

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cariño (drabble) | knj (m)

✧ pairing: namjoon x hispanic!reader

✧ rating: +18

✧ word count: 802

✧ song recs: cariño - the marías // soñé - zoe

✧ warnings: very passionate unprotected sex, kinda vanilla tbh, namjoon speaks spanish and it deserves a warning of its own

“Mi amor,” his voice came in soft, hurried whispers into your ear. Hands desperately roamed every inch of skin he could reach, his teeth gently nipping the flesh of your neck. His hips rocked slowly with every breath he took, driving his thick cock deeper into you. “Mi amor, mi vida.”

He always found ways to call you his, and given that he’d been practicing his Spanish, he’d been pushing the use of the language in every way he could think of. You didn’t mind at all, in fact, you helped him practice every day.

“Te amo,” he moaned, lips finding your own amidst the darkness of your room. The door to your bathroom was left slightly ajar, a crack of white light being the only thing keeping your room from total obscurity. His tongue slid into your mouth, sensually tangling with yours, much like how you were tangled in the sheets.

With one hand pulling his hair just how he liked, the other one grabbed a handful of his juicy ass and squeezed, prompting him to pound his cock into you just a little bit harder. The filthy squelch of your sopping wet cunt hugging his dick provided ambiance to the setting.

“I love you too,” you muttered, breathing heavily once your mouths disconnected. You breathed in the hot mixture of sex and sweat, the heat spreading across your body. You were so sweaty you were sure the sheets were already stained, but you didn’t give a shit.

Namjoon gave a breathy chuckle. “No, say it in Spanish,” he almost pouted, almost. “Please.”

You would’ve rolled your eyes had you not been at the mercy of your boyfriend, who passionately made love to you while he practiced his language skills. But he was so endearingly adorable, so loving, so caring, you melted with every note of his melodic baritone voice. “También te amo, Joonie."

Burying his face in your neck, he pressed tiny kisses to the skin. “Better,” he commented, gripping your waist tightly. “I’m so fucking close now.”

“Fuck,” you panted. All this slow lovemaking was driving you insane. You felt everything ten times stronger than you usually did. His cock felt bigger inside you now that you had proper time to process his languid strokes, the soft, gentle nudges of his nose against your jaw, his plush lips littering kisses everywhere they could reach. “Me too. Keep going like that.”

“Like this?” He asked, wanting to be sure. You nodded, dragging your nails across his scalp, hisses coming from his lips. “Shit, you don’t know what you do to me. You drive me insane.”

You smiled. “Oh, I know exactly how it is.” Then you puckered your lips, silently asking for another kiss.

He didn’t hesitate to give it to you, because damn, were you spoiled. It was in his nature to give so openly, to nurture you with so much care, and you poured all your feelings into every little gesture you made in return.

Fucking you like this, deeply, slowly, with such force, such passion, was his favorite pastime, the perfect event to a busy day, your deserved happy ending. Namjoon kissed you like the world was ending, savoring the taste of your tongue and committing it to memory.

Your hand left his ass to claw at his muscular back, legs wrapping around his broad torso to change up the angle, and both of you moaned into the kiss. His hand fisted the sheets beneath you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

Though he liked to take his time, his pace grew more erratic as the seconds passed. You were both nearing your climax now, with hot, heavy breathing accompanied by guttural groans that reverberated through his chest.

“J-Joonie I’m- I’m-” you didn’t get to finish your sentence, as your orgasm assaulted your body, jolting with pleasure and letting out a string of curses. It hit you like a tidal wave, coming from the deepest parts of your being, almost transcendental.

With your warm walls spasming around his girth, he spilled all of his load inside you, moaning your name into the skin of your shoulder, gradually slowing down his thrusts until the two of you were a blushing, sweaty mess. He finally, carefully, let his weight fall on top of you, and you responded in turn by clinging onto his figure, wrapping your arms around him to pull him even closer. “Te amo, cariño.”

“Cariño? That’s a new word,” Namjoon mused.

You smiled, sweetly pushing his hair back -- it was getting longer and longer each day. “It’s like honey or sweetie.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I like it. But it still doesn’t top mi amor, to be honest.”

You chuckled. “Nothing will, huh?”

He nudged the tip of your nose with his. “Never, mi amor.”