Confused - Blog Posts

alright guess i'll post this stupid thing kjdskjg

MIND BLOWN. WHO DID SHIRO MARRY THOUGH!!!!!!!! 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😢😢😢😢

Does anyone know where to find those ai that help you make pictures, I really wanna make avatar pictures and have no idea where to look 😭😭

JUST HAD THE WAIRDST F'ING DREAM!

(for some context, I have a dog named Storm, she is a Siberian Husky. Recently found out from the breeder that she was the runt. Originally, I never wanted her due to when we had to re-home our last dog, my parents swore to me and my siblings that we would never get another dog, and being more or so a cat person. So I was the only one that was against getting her, but guess who ended up caring for her the most?! Me. Her care and training basically became part of my rent. I was fine with it, besides the training part, she is a butthead sometimes. Fast-forward, I now consider her as solely MY dog, like 90% my dog. And I love her with my whole heart.)

(for even MORE context, the reason why this dream was weird to me is because it started very far from what they normally are. The average dream for me is like a fever dream, whilst this one was more like a reality check dream from God.)

The dream went along like this;

I'm on vacation at Seabrook (beautiful place, highly recommend) with my family, and we brought Storm with us. Me and Storm are walking a trail when I loose my grip of the leash and she goes mad dashing into the woods. After chasing her for a bit, I finally get hold of her leash again when I realize that we're lost, and I have no cell service. After trying to discern the direction back to the trail, a F'ING GRIZZLY BEAR APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE! It's a mother with two cubs. Storm tries to interact with one of the cubs, resulting in the mother grizzly to attack.

At this point, it gets a bit blurry from what I am trying to remember. But I am able to recall; A. Taking a slash to my face B. Grabbing Storm and doing a roll doge C. Smacking the bear with a branch as a distraction D. Jumping on it's back and smashing a rock on its eyes and snout.

After what is the "fight scene" it's easier to remember what happens next. I'm shielding my dog, who cowers behind me, from the mother grizzly. Neither of us move as we stare at each other, till the grizzly huffs and walks away, her cubs following. I proceed to wander the woods lost, injured and bleeding for 2-3 days. Holding Storm close at night and fighting to stay awake in fear of what may be lurking nearby. Finally when we come across a paved road, I remember breaking down and hugging Storm (I'm very weak and my injuries are most likely infected). As we walk along the road, it feels like forever before I see a car. When they stop and call 911, I black out. When the paramedics get there and load me up, Storm gets defensive and lays on top of me on the stretcher.

The dream had two different endings, a good end, and the bad end. The Bad end was a long the lines of waking up, finding out that my dog had been detained and euthanized due to an injury. Discovering that my parents ok'd it, losing all respect for them, moving out and proceeding to distance myself from society by living in the wilderness of Washington.

The Good ending went more along the lines of waking up to Storm laying beside me, my family nearby. I am left with permanent facial deformities and half blind. After mostly recovering, Storm is put through the training to become my service dog. I wear a mask as to not scare children, even my own siblings.

When I wake up I'm like, really confused and still think that it was all real. And I remember thinking word for word, "I would do it all again, for their sake.". Then I quickly realize that it was all just a dream.

The things we leave behind,

always seems like a lost battle.

Because of we could,

we'd lug them along.

But that's not how this works.

We are meant live within these lines,

cross no more and no white space.

Why do they call it life,

when it resembles the very thing that hells are made of?

It seems as if there's anything but hope in here.

Tired sighs and worn out souls.

All the corners taken up by the lost ones.

We were meant to be free and happy and be at peace.

But look at us, look at us withering away to charred remains.

Why is it so wrong to smile when we feel like it.

And why does everything always have to be done,

like they were done before us, for centuries.

We are not ghosts of the past,

but the pioneers of a better future.

Yet here we are, burned and hunted down,

all because we won't fit the box.

With every bone that breaks, the lines expand.

But how many more lives shall be lost,

before we can breathe again.

This cursed system has been going on for so long,

that now all the dreams we had have become mere passing fancies.

We can't afford to pay the price for choosing to have them,

when we ourselves have been so out of focus,

and so so close to an unattainable end.

Are we real, or are we too,the remnants of some far fetched dreams?

Out of focus, out of focus,

We've been anything but alive.

Because the world does not know how slow it has become,

and how far we are from the light.

Thus we shall remain out of focus,

till the last bone breaks,

and there's no one left to fit into the box.

I'm confused didn't Lashley have this open Challenge? Or is it for Raw after Mania?

Last year I was watching an anime really late at night. The next morning I woke up to see a cat outside of my house that kept brushing up against me. I don’t have a cat, not many people in my neighborhood have cats as most have dogs. I have never seen this cat in my neighborhood after that day. What does this mean?

I just wanted to draw something to distract me from the day

I started with some little sketches about where I feel at home.

At Hogwarts (I scribbled a small castle and a mini me)

The Pokemon world (So me and my favourite Pokemon)

Well then my favourite Manga (it's a story about a witch that makes chocolate, which grants you a wish for exchange something important to you like a skill or something//So I drew myself with a witch hat)

The Supernatural (drew the logo, dean, sam and myself)

Then I thought "where do I feel at home in the real world?" I honestly don't really know.. I mean my parents love me and so.. But at my dads place I feel more and more like a guest than home, I live at my mums place but sometimes I think "I wish I was home.." like??

I feel really comfortable at my bf place but sometimes it's pretty messy in his room. I know that oftentimes the motivation is not there but a tider would make me more comfortable.

My best friend into a new house and because of corona I haven't been there.

I don't what to think.. In January this year I thought that I'd be now in Ireland to work as a confectionist/pastry chef. Now I still here and don't where my home is and all those Christmas ads doesn't make me feel better with all those sayings like "Family matters now more that ever or some bs"

🇺🇸 Golly! I really like this kind of confused, perplexed expression in cartoons. It always seems like a build-up to a great joke and makes for a fun guessing game about what the character is staring at. Any hunches? 🇧🇷 Puxa! Eu gosto muito dessa expressão de confuso, perplexo nos desenhos. Sempre parece estar armando uma ótima piada e rende também como jogo legal de adivinhar o que que o personagem está encarando. Algum palpite?

I just decided to get the tumblr app but I’m too accustomed to the website format so now I don’t know where anything is

Confused.

Humans make no sense to me. They destroy everything, including each other and seem to think it's okay. It's like people believe life isn't supposed to be annoying so when it is, they find ways to get a "feel good" no matter who, or what, it hurts. It creates chaos that doesn't need to exist, which ends up being more fuel for people to behave poorly in search of that "feel good". The trail of damage left behind is disgusting and yet, it's like nobody actually understands that, or cares. It really does seem to be all about easy "feel good" even when that only adds to the problems. meh Maybe I'm just missing something but then again, I did label this "strugglingasahuman" so... clearly there is a LOT I "miss". hahaha

Are you a bot?

No I'm not?

MOTHER-

anybody else feel really sad and confused and empty all the time?

Sunday, April 4 1:11 p.m.

Never enough Isn’t it

Lately I’ve been feeling like nothing is ever really enough for me.

Doesn’t matter who I talk to at the moment and how they make me feel..... it’s never enough.

I can listen to all kinds of songs that fit my mood but it’s never enough.

I think about past memories and happy thoughts, but it’s never enough.

I think about the future and it’s just not enough.

I am filled with emotions but it’s not enough for me to even have control of.

I am lost but.... even the loneliness isn’t enough.

I am alone and it’s now.... enough. Enough of me feeling like this.

Then.... I think of Jeremiah 17:9, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?”..... faith over feelings?



Fan fiction Dilema

I'm in the kind of mood that I know I want to read fan fiction, but no fandom is calling out to me and I feel so lost.

for pokèmon types i got rock +psychic and for pokèmonize shape i got arachnid

so a scorpion/spider with psychic powers specializing/ inhabiting rocky terrain??

guys help i don't know much about pokèmon, pls tell me if i got it right! :-P :-)

pokèmonize yourself!!!!

spin this wheel to see your pokemon type

spin this one to see how you'll look like

I've got a fucking question, how the fuck can i tell people what gender (or none) i feel on a certain day without having to tell someone what gender (or none) I feel? (I'm gender fluid)

hey wtf is that white dude that appears randomly while you’re playing pressure

what is he

nobody understands when i yell “WHO IS THAT WHITE MAN”

HES JUST A SILHOUETTE WHAT IS HE

Okay, so let's process this. She had loved Hoseong, and obliviously gone through some event that left her traumatized. This guy is a menace and some big must have made (keyword ) her shoot him. Jungkook doesn't step up in the way that's needed and supports the man. She might be ill, or she's really fast on her feet and knows about that cancer very well. Hoseok is amazing in this one. Jungkook, you better step or at least ask questions. Is she actually ill or just translating the event to fit the previous lie. I won't know for sure for a while. Hoseong, is that you shouting with the knife? Let me appear magically before OC! Jungkook where are you dude?

dextrocardia | 07

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 5k

warnings: feelings and weird men lol also, is jk an ass or not? the eternal question

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 7/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

At your words, Jeongguk rolls over to look up at you. You bite your lip—feeling more nervous with his eyes on you—and place your hands on the fabric of the hammock at each side of your body.

“I really did. I know you think it’s funny, calling me pathetic and such, but I did. Hoseong was a role model to me, and I was so excited to be allowed to work with him. He was funny, and he paid attention to me. He was the best detective, and I wanted to be just like him, and I…”

Jeongguk watches you speak, surely noticing that it’s not the easiest thing to do for you, opening up.

“...I loved him.”

He looks understanding, and you hope that maybe this is it. 

“Have you thought about apologizing for what you did?”

You feel the air slowly get sucked out of your lungs. “A–apologizing?” 

“Yeah? I mean, what you did could be described as the worst overreaction in history. That bullet could’ve seriously injured him, ended his career, given him permanent damage, even killed him if it had hit an artery.”

He’s sounding more and more serious, more and more irritated at you.

“Jeongguk, I didn’t mean to hurt him, it wasn’t what I wanted, but what was I supposed to do?”

He sits up, and he’s already so much taller than you. “Not wave a gun in his face because you didn’t want the same things? You don’t always get what you want and sometimes you just have to suck it up and move on.”

Speechless, you gaze up at him. You feel smaller, as if you’re shrinking. “‘Suck it up?’”

“I think you’d feel a lot better if you just apologized. Everyone would feel better, and you wouldn’t be so disliked at the station.”

You watch him as he rises to his feet, holding his hand out for you. He seems almost hopeful.

“I—I can’t,” you speak quietly, begging him with your eyes.

He doesn’t care, just looks at you with some kind of smile, and so you still put your hand in his because in some way, you… you don’t know. What is it even that you’re fighting for at this point, and is it worth it?

With your hand in his, he leads you through the door and into the kitchen. One chair is pulled out for you and one for him, and he retrieves his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. Fenrir, who spent the past two hours sleeping on the cool kitchen floor, wanders to your side.

Jeongguk sits down as he dials a number, but you remain standing next to the table, feeling the most unsure you’ve probably ever felt.

“Come on, sit down,” he gestures to the chair. “I’ll call him and put him on speaker. Just apologize, I promise it will feel better.”

He smiles. 

You place your hand on the back of the chair, but you make no move to sit down. “You think that I should…? …Apologize?”

“Yeah, just do it, it’ll be so much easier. He’ll really appreciate it, I know he will.”

The signals almost echo through the room, and you’re drowning in a hollow sea. You thought you were maybe beginning to get to know Jeongguk, but it turns out that you already knew him. You’re disappointed in yourself, regretting that you didn’t remember when he showed you who he was. You guess it’s only fair that you’re reminded. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, man,” Jeongguk greets excitedly. After all, it’s his best friend.

The other voice, one you know very well, sounds again, “Hey, what’s up?”

“I have someone here with me who would like to say something to you,” he grins, meeting your distraught eyes.

“Huh?” Hoseong questions, sounding confused.

Jeongguk lets silence set, and  when you search his eyes, he nods encouragingly.

“Uhm, it’s me…” you start, voice weak and quiet even if you try your best to speak up. “I’m… I just wanted to say that I’m, uh… I’m sorry.”

Hoseong chuckles on the other end of the line, “Are you?”

You gulp, looking down at your fingers. “Yeah. I’m sorry I hurt you. I–I shouldn’t have, I get that now. I should’ve respected your wishes even if I didn’t want to. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” he responds, sounding happy and satisfied with your apology. “I appreciate it.”

Jeongguk moves the phone closer to himself, smiling. “Good, well, Hoseong, we shouldn’t really talk right now, I just wanted to get this out of the way once and for all.”

You zone out, not registering what exact words they use to say goodbye. Instead, your attention lies on Jeongguk’s face. You’re nothing to him. Dust has more value. You’re nothing, and it’s so blatant that he doesn’t care.

Soon enough, Jeongguk rises from the chair, his eyes on you. You don’t move for a while, not sure where to go from there.

“Doesn’t it feel better now?”

He looks down at you from the other side of the table, like he did you a favor. 

In return, you shake your head slightly, pressing your lips together. “No, not really.”

“Well, you did the right thing.”

He smiles again, like you’re supposed to feel encouraged. 

“I guess I’ve always known you,” you mumble, slowly turning to leave the kitchen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you hear him question, confused, but you don’t stop to elaborate. He knows, anyway.

The rest of the evening passes slowly. Jeongguk is somewhere downstairs, and you’re hiding out in the bedroom. Hiding and hiding, you just want time to yourself. As you do a bit of cleaning, Fenrir snoozing on the bed, you long to talk to someone who understands you. Your phone lies heavy in the pocket of the sweatpants you changed into, but you don’t call anyone. Neither Jihyo nor Sana even knows about this operation, and you don’t want to burden them, especially late in the evening like this.

Your mind is disconnected from your body, empty, and you watch your hands change the bedsheets and fluff the pillows.

In what could be described as the story of your life, your state of mind varies between anxious and indifferent, especially when Jeongguk comes to join you in bed. You don’t say anything to him, and you can tell he’s thinking you're making a big deal out of nothing, he’s made that very clear. There’s no energy left in you to be angry at him, that ran out a long time ago. You’re just disappointed and hurt, you guess.

Lying in bed in the dark, you think about the man next to you, who’s actually a very straightforward person. He’ll probably answer your questions if you just ask the right ones, but you guess that’s the problem—you can’t say the words.

“Sometimes you have to be the bigger person,” he breaks the silence quietly from behind you. “Or just accept that you were wrong. You have to take a step back and look at the bigger picture, not everything revolves around you and your feelings. It’s not always a loss to let the other person ‘win.’”

A quiet “okay” leaves you, and you feel Fenrir rest his head on your ankle. It’s easy to say when no one’s ever winning over him.

You think Jeongguk falls asleep not long after, but his words fall into your little picnic basket of heavy sentences, and when you can’t sleep, replaying all of them over and over, the handle finally breaks.

With glassy eyes, you sit up, looking back to see both Jeongguk and Fenrir fast asleep. As quickly as you can without waking either of them, you leave the bed, opening the bedroom door and heading down the stairs. You’ve held so much inside you for too long, and now it’s fighting its way out, tears already wetting your lashes when you step outside.

It’s four a.m., and the world is quiet. It’s also too cold for the white tank top and black shorts you’re wearing, but you don’t make any effort to go back inside to get more clothes, simply sitting down on the cold porch stairs instead.

Goosebumps cover your skin, and you hug your knees, probably looking as insignificant as you feel.

“Hey, are you… okay?”

You look up, your pulse spiking and your breath getting stuck in your throat.

Hoseok. He stands before you, and you’re not sure how you didn’t notice him walking over.

Snapping out of it best you can, you nod, wiping your tears with a small smile. “Yeah, I just… couldn’t sleep.”

Your mind races. Did you fuck everything up now? Has he come to confront you about the broken window? Did they find a bug? You know from what you overheard him say that the cameras were off, but maybe someone saw you and tipped him off? 

You’re entirely certain that even if they weren’t suspicious of you before, they for sure will be now. You’re fucked, you don’t even have your razor blades, and Fenrir’s asleep upstairs.

“Can I…?” he asks, gesturing to the spot next to you.

“Sure,” you nod, hoping he won’t get too comfortable.

“I have a hard time sleeping too sometimes.”

You turn to really look at him, and as you do, you notice that, although you don’t share the style, he’s also definitely in his sleep attire. He wears a brown t-shirt and shorts, quite a bit longer than yours. And his dark hair is messy, like he’s been tossing and turning for a while before coming outside.

Another wave of tears hit you, and feeling like the timing couldn’t possibly be worse makes it all that much worse.

Frantically, you wipe your tears.

“He hasn’t… hurt you, has he?” Hoseok asks quietly. 

“Who? Jaehyun?” you question, surprised that Hoseok would ask and even more so that he’d care. “No, he hasn’t,” you lie because what has that man done besides hurt you?

“Okay, that’s good. I mean, I can still see that you’re upset but at least it’s not because of him.”

“Yeah,” you agree, voice not much louder than a whisper.

Surprising you, Hoseok stands up. You turn your head, watching him approach the hammock and grab one of the forgotten blankets from it.

“You’re freezing,” he explains, draping the big blanket over your shoulders before he sits down again. 

“Oh. Thank you,” you sniffle, pulling the blanket tighter around you. It smells like rainy summer air and also faintly like Jeongguk.

Silence sets, and you take the opportunity to try to calm yourself down. But then you think of everything again and the fact that out of all people, Hoseok is the one trying to comfort you—of course, you don’t know if he’s genuine or what his intentions might be if he’s not, but it’s the feeling you get—so unfortunately, another wave hits. It’s not as forceful, but your uneven breaths are loud enough not to go unnoticed between the two of you.

You get that the smartest thing to do is to explain yourself—explain why you’re outside in the middle of the night, bawling—and maybe Hoseok will be less suspicious if he feels like you trust him. So you dry your tears again, gathering your breath and voice.

“I have a terminal illness.”

Even with your face directed forward, you see in your peripherals how Hoseok turns to you further.

“Oh,” he breathes, and he sounds genuine in his worry, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. What… is it?”

“Pancreatic cancer. Stage four, metastatic.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. And terminal…?” he starts, careful as to not overstep your boundaries, “what does that mean… in regards to…?”

You grip the blanket tighter. “Not long. A few months, at best.”

The news seems to sink in slowly, and you can practically feel the gears turn in the body beside you. “What about… the baby? Jaehyun told us–I hope you don’t mind.”

You sniffle, looking down at your knees that are wrapped in the gray fabric.

“It’s okay. I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but it’s very early on. And with my prognosis… unfortunately, it’s not looking too great. I’m probably only a few weeks in and seven-eight months is most likely more than I have.”

“It’s so unfair,” Hoseok breathes in disbelief. “You’re so young. You just moved here, finally settling in. I just can’t believe it. Jaehyun seemed so happy too, in general and over the baby?”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. “He doesn’t know.”

He looks at you again, gentle eyes trying to understand. “You haven’t… told him?”

“No. I just… can’t. I don’t want him to hurt. It’s the greatest pain of my life, knowing I’m leaving him behind, all alone.”

“Oh, love… You should. I know that in the end, it’s up to you, but imagine how he’ll feel once you’re gone. Unfortunately, we take even the things most precious to us for granted sometimes, and I’m sure he’d want to know. Being your husband, he wants to take care of you.”

“It’ll ruin him.” 

Obviously Jaehyun and Jeongguk are very different.

“What will be worse is knowing you struggled all on your own while he was right next to you, oblivious.”

You pause, trying to stabilize your voice further. “I’ll… think about it, but please, don’t tell anyone?”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Gently, he squeezes your shoulder before he stands up. “Oh, and by the way, tell Jaehyun I’ll only need the stuff until tomorrow.”

Confusion sets in, and Hoseok clearly notices that you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“I came by earlier and borrowed some plates and stuff since there’s something wrong with our dishwasher. It leaves this…” he rubs his finger together, perplexed, “sticky residue, and my mom’s coming by tomorrow. I also wanted to see if you were alright, with Jaehyun leaving so abruptly before and everything, but I think you were walking the dog. Anyway, you’ll get them back tomorrow”.

“Oh, okay. No rush,” you smile despite your puffy eyes and face.

He nods in confirmation and turns to leave. You stand up as well, but there seems to be something else on his mind because he stops once more.

“Just… come over. If there’s anything you need or want, okay? We’re always here for you.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

In a way, you feel lightened by the encounter, and frankly, Hoseok is far from the scary person you thought he was. At least he seems to be. To be honest, you almost forgot about the bank robbing thing for a while. All of it is relative, of course–he’s still a man, after all.

Standing right outside your front door and with the blanket still over your shoulders, you observe as he crosses the street and walks up the porch to his own house. He opens the door, but right before he enters, he turns around, sending you a little wave when he sees you watching. You disappear inside as he does.

That night, you dream of terminal illnesses in all their different shapes, and you dream of pretty, brown eyes.

You wake up early, both boys still asleep next to you. For a minute, while sleep leaves your system, you let yourself observe them. Fenrir lies in the middle, on his back and with his head where the pillows are. But he’s not resting it on them, underneath his head is Jeongguk’s bicep. They look like two humans, cuddling, and you almost smile. Almost. 

The worst thing is that not only does Fenrir look adorable, but so does Jeongguk. His pouty lips are a little parted, his cheeks a bit rosy, and his fluffy hair is all over the place. If only he was as sweet as he can look.

Since you placed nine bugs throughout the Jungs’ house–bugs that are set to record around the clock, there’s a lot of audio to go through, and you better get started.

With a glass of orange juice set on the coffee table, your feet pulled up under you, and a blanket thrown over your lap, you get to work. Luckily, the spikes on your screen show you whenever something was picked up, saving you from listening through hours and hours of nothing through your headphones.

Not that the spikes always indicate something of value. There are surprisingly many meows, something dropping and breaking in the kitchen, random inexplicable thumps when everything else is silent… cat sounds, you gather.

In the kitchen, you hear Hoseok and Eunha talk, but you can only pick out certain words over the running sink.

“Dishwasher…. ruined…forks…”

Well, you guess Hoseok’s excuse to borrow cutlery seems valid. What you don’t understand is the one phone call you hear him take hours later, also in the kitchen. He speaks quietly and cryptically, but you’re not worried that he knows the house is bugged, he’s probably just careful in case the phone is tapped.

“We’ll change it from five to seven. Okay? So that makes seven to ten and five to nine.”

You pause, hitting the notebook in your lap repeatedly with your pen. 

We’ll change it from five to seven. Seven to ten and five to nine.

What does that mean? You’re sure it concerns his less than legal activities due to the way he talks so formally and in what sounds almost like code? 

Your first thought is time stamps, but as you write them down, it doesn’t make a lot of sense, so you continue listening. Hoseok declares a few more ‘changes,’ but before he’s done talking, he disappears out of earshot.

Noting it down, you continue listening to the kitchen recordings just in case he comes back or there’s anything else of importance caught. 

As for Jeongguk, he trots downstairs a little after nine a.m., throwing a ‘Good morning’ your way. 

Your heart is too heavy for you to humor him too much, so you just nod at him. You don’t want to be more of a bitch than he already considers you to be, so you know you won’t give him the silent treatment, but you’re too far gone to be anything even close to friends.

As he makes coffee and wanders around the kitchen, you grab your things and carefully, without him noticing, head upstairs to listen to the tapes in peace. Not long after, you see him through the window as he leaves for his morning run, Fenrir leaping excitedly in the air next to him.

Hoseok didn’t come back to finish the phone call in the kitchen, and you’re in the middle of the bedroom tape when Jeongguk returns, sliding the bedroom door open. Like always, he’s sweaty and half naked, but it doesn’t phase you too much anymore.

When he makes no effort to venture inside or say anything, you meet his eyes. For some reason, he looks almost… soft. 

“I haven’t made a lot of progress,” you cut to the chase, pulling the headphones from your head. “I’ve done the kitchen, living room, and now I’m halfway through the bedroom one. The only interesting thing so far was a phone call he took, and they—whoever was on the other side—talked a lot of numbers. He said, and I quote: ‘We’ll change it from five to seven. Okay? So that makes seven to ten and five to nine.’ Then he left the kitchen, but I think the rest of the call was picked up somewhere else. Probably in the office. Possibly even the bathrooms.”

Jeongguk looks to be thinking hard, “I have no idea what that means either? Is it a time? Different ones?”

“It’s the most logical but it doesn’t make any sense unless they’re planning something at a very specific time. Too specific. Or a span of time, but I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, I can do the rest, I’ll just take a shower first. The chief said he’ll email the bank details, including the ones you asked for later today. He’s just waiting for the last bank to deliver the data.”

“Okay,” you nod, eyes falling to the notebook in your lap again, expecting Jeongguk to leave.

“By the way, have you eaten?”

You look up, “Uh, no, I haven’t. Are you hungry? Do you want me to make something?”

Honestly, if someone told you a month ago that you’d be offering to cook for Jeon Jeongguk without absolutely needing to, you would’ve laughed or cursed them out. But you’ve admitted defeat, don’t even think too much about it now.

“I can do it,” he says, making you furrow your eyebrows. “Would you like something in particular?”

Strange. Too strange. What is he planning?

“Oh, no. You don’t need to cook for me, just make enough for yourself.”

He looks at you for a second, like he’s pondering if he should try harder.

“Are you sure?” he finally asks, appearing almost… worried where he’s lingering in the doorway.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

You just nod. 

Throughout the day, you see Jeongguk mostly busy with listening through the tapes. You try to stay out of his way, give him a chance to work, and as the sun’s remaining hours decrease, you head out into the backyard with Fenrir, kicking some ball and taking the time to really scratch his favorite spots. 

At around eight p.m., you think you hear the front door close, guessing Jeongguk went for a walk or to visit someone, and not thirty minutes later, you hear footsteps behind you.

Expecting it to be Jeongguk returning, you look up from Fenrir, who has his tennis ball firmly lodged between his jaws. But it’s not.

“Hope I’m not interrupting. I saw you were outside, and I just wanted to check on you, see how you’re doing.”

“Hoseok,” you breathe, a small smile coming to you surprisingly easily. “No, of course not. I’m… good. Okay, at least.”

He nods, but also lifts his hand to scratch his jaw. “I also wanted to see if maybe you told Jaehyun? He seemed a little different when he came over just now. I feel like he’s too… out of it for you not to have told him, but he’s somewhat excited still to see the game, so I can’t really tell. I just wanted to know if I should bring it up because I want to be there for him if he knows and is having a hard time, but at the same time, I don’t want to out you if you haven’t told him.”

“I haven’t. I know I should, but I…” you feel a thick wave of emotion clog your throat and your eyes start to tear up. “I just don’t know how to break it to him? Ruin his life, you know?”

Hoseok’s brown eyes fill with sadness, and he steps forward, closing the distance between you and pulling you into his arms. Just like Jeongguk, he’s warm and firm, and he smells good. It’s not the same, but his embrace does put you at ease, at least a bit.

He strokes your back slowly. “It’s okay, take your time.”

“Thank you,” you whisper into his chest.

He’s only there for a few minutes, petting Fenrir for a bit after stepping away from you. Then he disappears with the excuse that they’re watching the game and how his ‘bathroom break’ is getting suspiciously long.

You go inside too, passing the kitchen table where Jeongguk sat earlier, listening to the tapes. He’s left behind the notebook and laptop, fortunately both closed or you would’ve given him an earful upon his return. Curiously, you approach the table, sitting down on the chair still halfway pulled out. Did he come to any sort of conclusion?

Opening the notebook to the last written pages, you see a lot of notes in Jeongguk’s handwriting. 

The first thing he’s done is transcribe the phone call he evidently managed to catch the rest of. It seems like Hoseok and whoever he was on the phone with went over a whole bunch of those numbers, all written down in blue ink.

Then there’s the name of a bank, ‘Suisse’ being a part of it. That has to be the bank they stash the money in. And the name of another bank, one that rings a bell for you, but you can’t say exactly why, and you know it’s not one of the banks recently robbed.

Jeongguk has written the numbers down as time stamps, as dates, as amounts of money in different currencies, as locations, trying to cross check them with everything he could think of, but the twenty-three different sets of numbers make no sense, and he’s crossed them over as he’s come to the realization. 

Then, he’s thought of something else, circling a missing number six in blue, a large question mark above it. And it’s true, all the other sets of numbers contain something between two and seven, and a number between one and twenty-four. Except six.

Glancing curiously at the laptop, you pull it closer, the screen awakening when you open it. You enter the password only you and Jeongguk know, and you’re immediately taken to files from an email. The bank statements. 

Scrolling through page upon page, it starts to sink in. You had a thought a few days ago, just a small one that you weren’t even too sure of, and it’s why you sent for so much bank info… but to make sure, you need to write something down. Grabbing the pen Jeongguk used, you turn the page, only to see that he came to the same conclusion. With your finger, you trace the rushed numbers written down. If added up, the smaller digits total a hundred. As in percent.

The many, many names stare at you from the screen, the bank deposits and balances you won’t have time to really look through at the moment but that will confirm everything later.

After robbing the banks, each number gets a smaller percentage to deposit over time, small enough to not be obvious or necessarily laundered in most cases, and they vary percentages between heists. One through twenty-four, the latter numbers are tied to the neighborhood's houses, number six being the only one missing because that’s you. 

They’re all in on it.

The discovery has your heart beating fast, but you wonder if Jeongguk realized the exact same thing. If he did, essentially making the biggest and most important discovery in the case so far, why would he go to hang with the guys? Why not speak to you and fill you in immediately? The only explanation you can think of is that he’d already made the plans to watch the game without telling you. Still, he could’ve told you first.

You’re not entirely sure what this will mean for the rest of the mission, but your guess is that you’ve done what you can here. The Jung house is bugged, and the batteries will last for another week or so, but there’s not much else you can do, and it puts a bit of worry in you.

Trying to infiltrate, become a part of the neighborhood-wide network is too risky, especially for Jeongguk who lacks basically any kind of training in the area. To be honest, you’re not so keen on trying it, either: your training in that area having been a while ago and not put to very much use since. As established, every moment living under this roof, in this neighborhood, is a risk, and since you’ve made it this far—incredibly enough—you feel like you can’t call it quits early enough.

While Jeongguk is still at the Jungs’, you take the time to look through the details again. You move upstairs into the bedroom, Fenrir staying downstairs to nap under the kitchen table.

It’s the bank name you’re stuck on. Not the Swiss one and not the ones confirmed already robbed, but the new one. A calculated guess is that it’s the target for the next robbery, and the change in percentages is part of the preparations. 

Biting your lip, you type ‘KSung’ into Google, closing your eyes briefly when result after result pops up. In the little info square on the right side of the screen, you see a name that makes your eyes widen.

Kyung Sunghyun. Fuck, how could you forget? Kyung Sunghyun is only one of the main suspects in the other case you’ve been working on, the one the chief always disregards in favor of others. But with your memory jumpstarted—which probably simply failed due to the immense stress you’ve been under—it all comes back. 

Kyung Sunghyun, the founder and CEO of KSung is somehow embezzling money and using it to fund human trafficking. Well, you don’t have a lot of evidence regarding the latter, but you have an informed… feeling. Now, Hoseok plans to rob his bank? What does that mean, a coincidence or are they connected somehow? You knew Hoseok was a bad man but to be in cahoots with a(n alleged) human trafficker? Could it be an attempt at insurance fraud?

You’re just about to note down your most recent discovery when you hear the front door close. At first, you don’t think too much of it, focused on your notes, but the way someone is very angrily ascending the stairs has you holding your breath. You’re frozen, and you can hear your pulse race.

Then, the door flies open, and he stands there, furious eyes finding you. With your heart in your throat, you move, nearly falling off the bed in your pursuit of getting as far away from him as possible. He shouts something at you, but you don’t quite register the words, only that he’s nearing, and that his right hand is gripping a knife.

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<33

what is a “starseed” and why do i see so many autism moms post about their autistic child being one?

i am confused about a bunch of people i follow. i thought that they were just emoji blogs? for aac symbols and stuff, but they are all fighting. i don’t understand because people keep saying that one person is bad but then they say they aren’t?

Intro page on Mumbo Jumbo for the silly little Superhero au

He is just a guy who gets rescued by Hotguy and Cuteguy 50 times a month and is on Tired

So I have this crush on one of my friends and when I told her, she said she wasn’t ready to be in a relationship but maybe there was a chance for us to be together in the future.

This week she said she liked me. I started panicking and I asked her what she meant, she said she didn’t know and that she was confused because of my charms, I ask what charms she was talking about because she’s the one who’s amazing, we then started insulting each other while trying to get the other to admit how perfect they were…

And now I’m just confused

Confusion.

So I’m confused about my sexuality 👍 I’m not aroace I know that much though. So uh. Yeah. Luv u guys ✨

I used to feel so deeply for you but now I am confused about the love that I felt about the love that I lost

I used to feel so strong with my heart dancing in fire it never burned out it never lost its desire

I used to feel so passionate like it was only you and me passionate about us passionate about who we could be

Now I feel nothing of the things that I used to feel I stare into your eyes black holes, just as dead as mine

How could we become these deadly boring people? Weren't we the ones which used to breathe through kisses?

How could we lose all of this and slowly become enemies? we stopped to dance in our light we rather start wars in our shadow

How lovely it would be to go back to the art of passion but we buried it our fallen feeling of desire