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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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Love Begins


JVL

★
d e v o n

if i look back, i am lost
noise dept.
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Janaina Medeiros
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@kwjaeyoung

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AYYYYYY guess who’s all caught up. (lol not that it was much of a feat considering i didn’t have that many threads to begin with). i’ve got a couple errands to run for the rest of the evening but i’ll just repost my intro for reference and get to new plotting over the next few days. (get rdy ok i have my eye on ur intro posts)
here’s the tldr; on jung jaeyoung, who you may remember being publicly (and nationally, because jaeyoung’s all about going big or going home) shamed a couple months back after a drunk balcony incident ended his (his? were they rly his???) olympic swimming dreams. rumour has it that standing next to him will give you an immediate self-esteem boost, because no matter how much you disappoint your parents: at least you didn’t also disappoint a country.
looks like a fuck boi: is a fuck boi. but a very nice one. spent the last little while limping around in a cast, bemoaning the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid in four months. they were off in time to celebrate 22 years of accomplishing almost nothing. (is that the sound of a crippling inferiority complex or). he does carry it rather well tho. the rest can be found here in helpful point form.
SOME PLOTS...
t h r e a d s
@kwjieun
@kwkrystal
@kwjungkook
@kwminho
p l o t t i n g
@kwmijoo
@kwuisoo
@nayeonkw
thanks (/ jungkook heaves out, fumbles a bit with the bottle when it slips from the sweat on his palms. he takes a long, sloppy swig, undeterred by the messy trickle that strays down his neck. ) you keep telling yourself that, jae (/ mirrors the boy’s grin before he pushes himself into a sitting position, leaning back on his palms. competitive banter is always easy with jaeyoung; a teammate even when they’re on opposite ends. anyone else and he’d be tallying the score, best two out of three when he’s not feeling himself on the court as a means to drag it out. ) you hungry? (/ he’s packed lunch for them, but there’s a sense of momentary leniency that washes over him when he turns to look at him ) mcdonalds? (/ last call, he thinks with a twitch in his lips, take it or leave it )
i’m telling you that. ( / laughs, taking back the bottle. the dregs of it go over sweat soaked hair and overheated skin, absorbing at the neckline of his shirt. he throws a glance at brittany, parked at the side. ) well. ( / looks at him with a suspicious squint, wondering if jungkook’s betrayed him with health food. mcdonald’s is a sure bet, but curiosity’s easy bait for him. ) what do ya got?
he blinks at how serious jaeyoung cited a quote since the other wasn’t exactly well known for his brains. “… did you just quote star wars unironically?” minho gapes after jaeyoung, watching him fumble his way across the hallway.
his eyes narrow when he realises he’s going to be left behind – well as if jaeyoung could ever beat him when he’s walking at a grandpa’s pace – so he starts shifting his crutches in order to catch up. it annoys him when his body refuses to do what his mind is set on to do, always has annoyed him but this time around he couldn’t even look graceful doing it.
at least with football he made the passes look beautiful but this? this race is a mess.
“get a better clock, it was five seconds on my end!” he yells back, trying to avoid bumping into the intern. “uh, hi, sorry, gotta beat him,” minho smiles pathetically at the intern who he recognises from his physiotherapy sessions - shit, she better not tell the doctors - and continues trailing after the former olympian.
his line of sight zeroes in on the end of the hallway with a familiar singularity. there’s no difference between this and the finishing side of a swimming lane, looming just ahead. he doesn’t respond, doesn’t look back, the sound of minho’s movement gaining just behind swallowed by his focus.
he realizes the exact moment his crutches hit the floor at a fatal angle.
“FUCK—”
and the crutches slip sideways, his weight going with them. one goes sliding behind him with a clatter, the other still clutched in his working hand. he pitches forward, catching his fall with his face, seeing actual stars and is that—is that blood coming out of his nose? he lies there, groaning. the embarrassment kicks in a second later.
god. just kill him.

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flicker, fade
[ ... ]
nothing matters, perhaps, but the teetering moronic greeting he offers her.
uh. hey. christ.
jaeyoung can’t be faulted, krystal knows this well; the situation painted unsavory for him more than anything—and though krystal wanted to find complacence in it, in which she’s at the least retained all working limbs in comparison the university student finds—with sinking disappointment and mounting frustration—the beating organ within her chest twisting disgustingly with concern.
“hey.” she utters, lips pursed as her gaze travels, lingering on features that’d grown blurry over the years (but strikes her now, unforgiving in the nostalgia it brings) before lowering to his cast. it takes a few seconds before she decides to speak again, words curbed with bemusement and just a bit of something else.
“shouldn’t you be…holed in a hospital or something?” rotting away from the public’s eye?
“nah, it looks worse than it is. i'm getting the casts off in a week, actually. you've got some timing.” the smile takes nothing to force, a grin cracked by the familiarity of her bluntness.
“so.”
ugly pause.
“what are you doing back in seoul, anyway? thought you were off at harvard or something—ah, i guess you would've graduated by now.” he disrupts the small talk, the feigning at normalcy, with a short laugh, incredulous. “man, i really didn’t think i’d see you here.”
as in the coffee shop, but also ever. correction: ever again. her footsteps had sounded final the last time he’d heard them. he’s thought about another encounter in shallow depth, what he might say to her, what she might say to him, what things might fly pass unsaid. immediately after graduation, he’d thought about calling her, holding her accountable for everything she’d put him so willingly through. the certainty that he’d make a mess of it had held him back. probably a good thing. what ifs don’t sit well with him.
the incision she’d made before she left, the question mark branded in: the memory isn’t wrenching, the edges worn not by handling but longevity. his resentment had peaked and ebbed. there’s nothing of it revived again by looking at her now, virtually unchanged. the constriction of his chest is a subtle ache, a kind of nostalgia. he recalls high school like it was a different century entirely, equal parts dire and trivial. but even so, his mental gymnastics funnel down into a simple mantra.
it ain’t that deep.
hello! so, just wrapped up two all nighters and the project i was working on. i’ve had such an unbelievable couple of days haha really just experienced the full spectrum of human emotion. i need a couple days to breathe, but i’m not going anywhere. i’m going to go on an official week long “hiatus” to be safe but i might be back earlier! thanks loves.
ooc update: gonna be slow on plotting + messages for the next couple days! huge event coming up for me this weekend. will be fully back in action on monday. (applies also to @kwsulli yes it me)
♠
♠ for a drunk text
[ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] FUKC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!![ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] I DROPED[ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] MY CHICKN NUGGETS[ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] IM SO MAD
[ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] where di u go[ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] ( emoji )
[ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] the nugets[ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] i ate thme[ kkt – 🍂🍂🍂 ] ( emoji )

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✘
✘ for a text that should never have been sent
[ kkt – kookie 🍪 ] i’m serious jungkook[ kkt – kookie 🍪 ] get it together dude[ kkt – kookie 🍪 ] stop messing around with taehyun, he doesn’t deserve that shit [ kkt – kookie 🍪 ] this isn’t some makjang lol[ kkt – kookie 🍪 ] if you can’t make up your mind then fuck off
send a symbol - get the following from my muse ;
send ✆ for a morning text send ♔ for an angry text send ♠ for a drunk text send ☏ for a vague text send ⁇ for a worried text send ♣ for a text not meant for you send ✺for a sassy text send √ for a long-winded confession text send ☠ for a misguided advice text send ☢ for a desperate text send ☼ for a congratulatory text send ✘ for a text that should never have been sent
flicker, fade
september 2016 ; @kwkrystal
he knows this girl.
in the reflection of the door swinging inwards, he catches only fragments: the curve of a cheek, the tip of a nose, turning away. the familiarity is a punch to the gut, salt on a wound that should only be skin, but he can’t be sure. it’s been a while since he’s thought of her, longer still since he last conjured her in a place she couldn’t be.
there are ten million people in seoul, but he could swear that she’s distinct. and the impulse to turn her by the shoulder—this is new. he remembers her better with darker hair, remembers her vividly in full uniform. blazer, knee-length skirt, black loafers. but the posture is just like her, shoulders squared above a straightened spine. she’d always looked pulled taught from end to end, hadn’t she? like something made to be unraveled.
luck has a way of playing him for a fool. they say you always run into old flames on bad days. but there are bad days, and then there’s jung jaeyoung with his bad year and worse habits: holding crutches, leg still encased in plaster, staring hard at the back of a nondescript girl in a line for coffee he doesn’t want to buy.
she turns, and it’s her.
it’s her and he’s caught in the peripheral of her vision, drawing a blank. his train of thought had never gone this far. he opens his mouth before he knows what to say, exhaling the first vibrations in his throat. he’s cringing. fuck. he’s cringing so hard his cringe is cringing.
“uh—hey.”
sundown syndrome
[ ... ]
somehow, she manages like this, shoulder digging into his torso when an inkling of relief sinks in and his bodyweight seems to bear down on her quicker than she’d like. she’s got an arm around his waist, terror-stricken eyes only widening in size when they search his face and realize that this, true to instinct, was no dream at all.
“jaeyoung? fuck, are you okay?” she reaches up, fingertips digging into his cheek when she forces him to look down at her. “what happened, why are you alone?”
vertigo hits him hard, flattens him with a dissipating blow.
he looks at her; one heartbeat, two. recognition doesn’t come. it doesn’t come and he’s thinking—what, what the fuck just happened? (the bottle that turned into six, eight and ten. beer instead of liquor, because limits need to be hardwired for him and he’s fooled himself into believing that safety nets come in percentages.)
he rolls to the side, back hitting pavement. the streetlight above hangs bright and open and pouring, like a hole bored through the door of a dark room. he closes his eyes and thinks with the taste of delirium in his mouth that it’s the sun, the residual glow unbearable. he turns again, too quickly and too soon.
“the fuck,” he wheezes, voice hoarse and biting. “the fuck you think you’re doing?”
there is nothing pious about the supplication of his folded body, hands and knees, heaving up nothing. cold air cuts through the column of his throat and he chokes it down, the curve of his spine undone by a heavy shudder. he settles a sideways glance at her, then stands with a bottom-weighted stagger, limbs impossibly heavy. a hand lifts to wipe his mouth, eyes narrowed.
“piss off, ey? mind your own fucking business.”

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Does your muse
eat pizza bites while they’re hot OR wait for them to cool
come to a complete stop at stop signs OR do a california roll
set their alarm clock for the time they actually will wake up OR set it early and hit snooze a bunch
fall asleep on their phone/laptop OR stop using electronics an hour before bedtime
floss twice a day OR only floss the week before they go to the dentist OR neither
hold their jacket in their lap until everyone is boarded OR put it into the overhead compartment right away OR smooshes it behind him tbh
run straight into the ocean OR slowly let their body adjust to cold water
run marathons OR marathon TV shows OR lack the attention span for either
consider french fries to count as a veggie OR make sure they have something green on their plate (vegetables r delicious)
set a timer when cooking OR constantly check and taste until it seems good
回+
“ow, ow—”
“will you— stop moving so much—”
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