(This Is Another One Of Those Random Things That Just Insert Into My Brain For No Reason At Random Times.

(This is another one of those random things that just insert into my brain for no reason at random times. A few sentences of smut at the end so MDNI) Imagine you just got married to him and basically you're still on your honeymoon/holiday thingamob. And you're making soup but you accidentally drop the hot bowl on the floor and you accidentally cut your hand. He rushes up to you, helps you clean and cleans up the little cut- it's not too serious (but he's still overreacting). Anyways, after doing that, he just sees you in your little pyjamas, and the next thing you know you're bent over the counter and he's inside you, kissing the cut on your palm as he thrusts into you, :)

(Should i make this into a fic or not?)

JJK: Yuuji (aged up), Gojo, and maybe Geto (not Kenjaku) CoD: Konig, Price, Gaz, Soap, (probably anyone from tf141 tbh)

just wanted another boop hehehe ;)

(I will boop everyone who reblogs this post, for the record 💖)

Chapter 1 of whatever tf this is. Intro to the family.

Every family had a smell. I was absolutely adamant about that growing up as a child. Whenever i'd go to some family friend's house, there was always a smell associated with them, their house, and clothes. It wasn't a repulsive or putrid smell at all- it was just, distinct. If my friends would lend me clothes, or if they'd come over and leave something at my place- i'd immediately know whose it was. Though, the weird thing was that I never recognised a smell, or anything symbolic that would stand out to me from my own family. Maybe it was because i'd just gotten to used to it, or maybe my family was so distanced and fragmented that there was nothing associated with us. I guess i'll just never know.

Some days, I think that the world to me was small as a child, and my issues were minor. But I never savored that peace- i was just so adamant to just grow up and leave. I regret that descision now- honestly i started regretting wasting my childhood as a young teenager, but I don't think I ever did anything about it. Maybe that's why my teenage years also passed away quicker than ever. People say it's a universal experience, that everyone regrets their teenage years, wishes something else happened, so maybe i'm normal. But other days, i'm happy I grew up- legally of course. I'm happy I left everything, it would've been worse back there.

Divorce had drawn a jagged line through my childhood, splitting my world in two and leaving me caught in the chasm between my parents' fractured lives. I was only maybe five or so, when they split. Although i'm not sure if i'd prefered them together or apart. It's kind of sad, now that I think about it, because I was alone back then, and i feel like i was the only person that was affected by it. My younger brother was only a few months old when it happened, he didn't have to experience anything. In a sense, this was a good, and bad thing.

My parent's were fucked as soon as they'd gotten married. They were both born and raised in India as part of rich families- and they'd been arranged to get married. My mother was the youngest of four, around 24, and my father was the oldest of 2, around 28, when they'd gotten married. My mother was sort of a fire- passionate but also raging, she was dedicated but let her emotions out of control easily. Perhaps this was because she was sort of spoiled growing up, having two older sisters and an older brother to do her work, help her through her tantrums, and she never had financial problems, being allowed most things she wanted.

She'd just finished one of her degrees and was certified to teach English at one of the schools part of my family owned- she wanted to become a professor and get another degree, but she'd gotten married. This meant that her husband now 'owned' her and would decide if she were to continue her studies or not.

I don't believe my father was that cruel- but his biggest issue was that he was a mama's boy. And his mother- aka my grandma, was the biggest fucking cunt alive. She was basically one of those evil and fucked up mother-in-laws that you'd see in tv- she'd just want everyone's lives to be worse, specifically my mothers- and she was a grand manipulator too. And everyone knew that she was also a stubborn, undiagnosed pathological liar. Honestly, in the few times i'd unluckily met her, she'd strike me as similar to my own mother- not in the pathalogical liar part, my mother was straight-forward- but in the stubborn way. Both of them were incredible stubborn.

Naturally, she just wanted everyone's downfall for no reason whatsoever, so she told my father to stop my mother's education- and him being his mother's little dog, he did it.

My grandfather though, was probably the most level-headed person in the family. He'd always try to take my mother's side- but again he was a weak man like my father- despite knowing what's wrong and what's right, he'd just stay in the shadows of his wife- my grandmother.

He was sweet though. Most memories of me living in that hellhole with my father's side of my family were mainly with him. Despite being unable to yell at his wife, he was still incredibely comforting. Taking me on walks, buying me things- he used to order pani puri (an indian dish) for me every day as a child because i'd love it so much. (this was later stopped by my mother because it was unhealthy) My family had the same opinion of him. Although, I heard stories from my family that he was also quite stubborn (runs in the family i suppose), that he was picky with his food, and he would hate when people moved things around even an inch in his room- which to be fair, is quite similar to things I do. In the end, he was probably my favourite family member from my father's side- I liked him more than my father to be fair. I just wished he'd have more courage.

My uncle- or my father's younger brother- was a different story. He was the exact copy of his mother- same snake-like person. Although he was more of a 'i fucking hate this family and i don't care about any of this.' Which wasn't too bad to be honest, he was just absent- and he talked down on some of my grandmother's behaviour a lot- which i was grateful for.

Most of my family lived in North India- althought one of my aunt's family were living in Mumbai as well. We were hella mixed- not really 'belonging' to a specific state. This was important because in India- states are basically like different countries at this point. Each state spoke a very different language, had different customs, more different religions, etc. To put this in perspective, India has over 700 languages spoken in it, but there's only 28 states and 8 Union territories. So some parts of my family were in Kashmir and Jammu- near war, some were in Punjab, running business and taking care of most of our farm property, and some lived in Dehli and Mumbai. But we were mostly situated in Haryana- my father's family as well- althought thankfully they were on completely different sides of Haryana. We lived in Rohtakh, and they lived in Karnal. Some of family from my mother's side was also from Spain- making me 23% hispanic- and some left in Pakistan after the division in 1947, making me 12% Pakistani, and also Arabic and Australian (we live in Australia now) from my father's side. But I was still mainly Indian.

So like every 5 or so years, we'd have this whole flight shenangin where for a month of two we'd first go india, then Spain, then Dubai (not Pakistan for obvious reasons sadly- we're honestly not even that connected in pakistan, we just know names), and finally finishing in India, before going back to Australia. This was so we'd able to at least keep ties and keep in touch with all my family across the globe. I actually enjoy the diversity of my family though- I remember going to my cousin's quinceanera- although they live in the US now.

So yeah, sometimes growing up I felt a bit weird- not really from the ethnicity bit, but mainly because of the lot of religions in my family. Although the closest to me were all Hindus- sometimes it felt a bit weird meeting the Muslim part of my family. It wasn't too difficult hanging our the Catholic part of my family though, as I lived in Australia and went to Catholic Private schools. But to be honest, I enjoy all the religions- we all follow God, so to me personally, religion just means to believe in God and be a good person- and the only difference is to receive that message through whatevers associated to your religion- whether is be the Quran, the Bible, or The Vedas.

(to be continued ig???)

So, i just kind of wanna write like a story- mostly kind of just based off of my life, how i feel about it and what happens in it- but with different charcaters obviously and stuff. Maybe because like i have a journal- but i can't write like daily recaps and all that shtuff- so i want to kind of make it into a small book, but like the book is just about significant stuff that i remember in life. Idk how to explain it lol. Basically just a freebie book, that probably will never have an ending and it'll just be a bunch of chapters about random shit- not even chapters, like broken paragraphs tbh lol. So ig that was kind of the opening chapter. (also guys gimma title ideas cuz idk wtf to write in this.) Also this'll have no tags btw.

Genuinely bizarre to me that "I don't want to have sex/be physically intimate with someone unless I have a deep emotional connection with them" is considered by some to be a whole sexuality instead of like. Normal.

I kind of wanna start a new series where it's Simon/Ghost x reader but she's like a famous actor/singer.

im wet