“Come Over. I Don’t Really Mind Whether We Talk For Hours, Get Blind Drunk, Or Sit In Silence And

♡%    .  .  .    ❀ ❜  an au  celebrity character  inspired  by  the idol & the  many  rumors  and  things  heard  of   jennie  kim.

         a  collection  of  industry  chaos  and  rich  girl  problems.   by  m.

twitter / carrd ( read for plots, disclaimer, stats & about )

[ ✿ ] - my muse attempts to cook dinner for your muse. eunwoo & jennie.

it looks like something straight out of a horror movie. hair slick to her cheeks, water still dripping from the strands and it's officially autumn now, if eunwoo hadn't noticed before he surely will now as a drenched jennie shows up by his door at 1:58 am. when it rains it pours, not only in the sense that one tragedy is followed by many others, clearly it also applies to the weather. a late-night walk along the river ended up here, after a keycard was lost and a phone screen shattered. she simply tried to drown out the blues, not literally end up looking like someone who had been too close to drowning.

"i lost my room key." silence, "… and wrecked my phone.."

scared it sounds like an excuse she quickly coaxes up a formerly-functional phone from her pocket, showing it for the man in front of her as if it had been the aforementioned roomkey to earn access ; but to his apartment, rather than the hotel room she rents while her family doesn't want to see her. ( refuses to, if painfully honest )

by now eunwoo has progressed why someone is at the door in the middle of a rainy night. jennie ponders about if he also had been up, listening to the rainfall against the windows, let the blues in, or perhaps slept, when he sighs: 'get in, you're crazy.'

fifteen or so minutes later she sits on one of his kitchen-counters in a borrowed tee and sweats, towel over her shoulders to dry up her hair because it is far too late for either of them to start mopping his floors. a yawn stifled behind one hand, eunwoo struggling not to mirror her while unenthustiastically poking a burnt piece of toast in a most questionable mixture that jennie swears is the correct way of making brioche french toast.

'are you really sure this is how—' he chimes in, a concerned glance in direction up from .. whatever that is .. and towards the still half-drenched woman sitting there. her "yes, i googled it!" is quicker than what sounds trustworthy, especially if having heard jennie admit not having cooked much over the past two years, which recently was mentioned on radio, and she hopes he is unaware of that. yet before they have a chance to argue about jennie's former cooking skills it's——

stuck.

until the spatula forcefully gets underneath burnt bread, flinging it off the pan and straight onto the floor … surprise on both their faces, yet eunwoo stares at the pan in absolute disbelief. this couldn't possibly have happened. and mere seconds later the tiredness is like forgotten when soft laughter fills the room.

"let's just order delivery or make ramen instead..?" probably the first good idea jennie has had over the past 24 hours.

Everyone around me: Stop doing stupid shit Me: no im sad

24th april, 2022. 18:22.

’he’s angry because this could compromise things for him at work…’

the half-whispered reassurance sounds more like it’s uttered to justify her father, who just slammed a door shut on the way to the in-home office, rather than something meant to comfort jennie.

the kitchen table doesn’t feel like *home* today. or maybe too much like home.

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[ ☎ ] my muse calls yours in tears.

[ ✪ ] our muses are stuck in an elevator together.

[ ◐ ] my muse is having a sleepover with your muse.

[ ✿ ] my muse attempts to cook dinner for your muse.

[ ◈ ] my muse makes a drunk confession to your muse.

[ ღ ] my muse makes an attempt to cheer your muse up.

[ ✦ ] my muse pushes yours out of frustration/anger.

[ ❢ ] my muse discovers yours all bloodied and bruised.

[ ➤ ] my muse accidentally punches your muse in the face.

[ ⌚ ] my muse recalls their favorite memory with your muse.

[ ✜ ] my muse collapses in front of yours, all bloodied and bruised.

[ ☯ ] my muse tells yours that they never want to see them again.

[ ✈ ] my muse asks yours to accompany them on a trip/mission/etc.

[ ● ] my muse catches yours snooping through their belongings.

[ ☻ ] my muse wakes up in your muse’s closet the night after a party.

[ ✌ ] my muse reaches out to yours after months of no communication.

[ ☢ ] the car broke down in an unfamiliar part of town, and our muses are lost.

[ ✠ ] it’s three in the morning and my muse unexpectedly arrives at your muse’s home.

[ ☁ ] the entire city is without power due to a storm, and our muses run into each other during a supply run.

“I don’t want to be a piece of art. Nobody touches artwork. They just look from afar and move on.”

— Azra.T  (via 5000letters)

“I just want one person to fight for me. To make me feel like I’m worth never letting go. I need someone to fight for me so selflessly and passionately; so much so, I can feel it through the universe. I want someone to hold on tight to me, because they know I’m worth it, the way I know I’m worth it.”

— Treka L. House

15th october, saturday.

the lights go off and she can hear everything, the crowd cheering, curious, anticipating whatever may come next -- and the increased volume when her name is the only thing in lights. she knows, aims for an element of surprise.

i love you and me, ... dancing in the moonlight ...

a lover of the moon, that's jennie. someone who has sought endless comfort on silent nights by pouring up a bath and watching the sky, or walked out to the river to seek an undefined *something* while in company of only the stars and moon. they see her sins and mistakes, yet never leave her.

he was the same for her once, but not anymore. and she is scared that life lacks meaning.

the man who dances with her is in charge, fluid and gentle in his movements, many which are inspired by ballet. it's dark around them, a rendition of the moon there to blind the crowd and for a brief moment only the shadowy outlines of jennie and her partner exist in the world, no one else. he moves like he cherishes her -- she pushes him away, because that lie has been told before. and jennie want it seen, for the world to be aware that she knows she is trouble, without saying the words.

feigned independence is a contrast of red on the otherwise clean and white backdrop. love isn't only bright and beautiful, it's harsh and complex.

the song and performance hits close to home. that was the whole point, in this way she can open up, tell the world that she is scared of what she longs for the most. am i asking for help?

yet she smiles more than she means to, because this, on the very stage, is the thrill she lives for. until the dancer grabs her hands above her head, because she needs that, someone reaching out to hold her. perhaps to forcefully remind her that she is worth the struggle of fame and gossip, that her fears cannot compare to the hold he has on her. reassurance. possessiveness.

but fear.

her hand refusing to take his once free from the hold, a glamorized battle for control, intimacy, and trust. ( the one who gives up control in love is the one left in pain when the illusion is over ) all mixed in with magnetic drive to not let go, being unable to, being drawn in for more. it settles on the hemline of his pants -- her fingertips onto bare skin as his shirt is undone. love isn't only childish and innocent, it's manipulative and dark, dipped in lust. words unspoken through escapades where the moonlight is the only thing illuminating two lovers. jennie finds it vulnerable, a contrast from what many view as easy, because she believes there is truth in each exchange. it has lead her astray a few times, but unspoken reassuance and an acceptance of each other happens even like that ; tangled up in bed, letting someone see your darkness.

the subtle art of attraction.

she sings about liking how he makes her feel, how it puts a something in her days, how she doesn't care about his previous loves because she plans to be his last, and it all feels like an old page out of her notebook, the one she goes nowhere without.

i don't wanna fall, don't wanna play this game alone with nowhere to hide ...

jennie knows the person the song is about never will be back, she's alone and this is a letter to the moon.

maybe someday someone will understand, and still hold her there through the fight. she wants to think she is valuable enough.