#Bc my brain essentially just handed me new characters?

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/25/2024

i played a game that is not genshin impact!

listening

paige kennedy's lingerie model. the line "cause i'm a little rat boy in the body of a lingerie model" startled a laugh out of me. off the discover weekly playlist.

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reading

thank you philip.

Johnny Guitar by Roy Chanslor, on interlibrary loan bc i was hoping reading the book would kickstart my long-planned fic based on the movie. surprise! wildly different book i read in one sitting! the locations, most of the characters (except most of them are much younger) and who's on what sides are essentially the same, but everything else is different!

there are five whole women in this thing, which is a staggering number for a western. i don't know that i have a clear idea of what this book is trying to say about Women in general or specific. i've just been kind of rolling it around in my head for a while. once i figure out what i want to say about this book everyone better watch out

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watching

borrowed my best friend's husband and their disney plus account to watch a lot of star wars. we certainly had a lot of thoughts about the show Ahsoka but none of them were particularly complimentary. it's dave filoni playing the fucking hits. would you like some wolves and some owls and people having bad feelings and recreating the training session on the millennium falcon from ANH? would you like some fairly lackluster lightsaber battles? would you like the least interesting concept of a waiting room/purgatory/underworld you've ever seen? this is a show where we meet Anakin again and TRAVEL TO A DIFFERENT FUCKING GALAXY, the BIRTHPLACE of some WITCHES. can we be a little bit excited about new things please??? please?????? we are so very bogged down in cutting back and forth, bc god forbid everyone be in the same place at the same time, that we get only the tiniest glimpses of fun new places. show me the places. stop giving me medium shots of people yapping. easily three quarters of this show is filmed from the waist up or closer. what fucking gives. if i really really wanted to scratch the itch of a worrisome legacy and lost love and slightly weird student/teacher dynamics i would go read a contemporary literary novel. show me the interesting parts of star wars and not just the fanservicey callback parts please thanks

we did have a lot of fun with The Acolyte, which genuinely does feel like a breath of fresh air. most of the dialogue is extremely bad, which is sort of par for the course for a star war, but the gleeful jumping with both feet into some real melodramatic weekly serial/space opera tropes!!! much more interested in playing with a heightened narrative/playing with narrative at all, unlike ahsoka which is more focused on filling in a little blank spot!!! witches here also!!! the GOOD TWIN and the EVIL TWIN, several inventive assassinations, the CLEARING of one's NAME, a cursed planet, some fights that feel like they're playing with samurai movies and westerns in a fun new way instead of reminding me of a better thing i could be watching. thank you im eating this with a spoon. many people are very mad about it bc the protagonist is black and perhaps not perfectly straight. the public says this star wars is bad, bc of woke and bc of cliffhangers. i think this one is fun actually so far!!!

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playing

Freshly Frosted (2022, Quantum Astrophysics Guild). free on Epic rn and quite honestly this should be a self-care/old people brain plasticity phone game. why it is NOT on mobile is beyond me. why it is on SWITCH is also beyond me.

it did make me miss a novelty doughnut and coffee mini local chain in the five college area that has long since gone under. one of my therapists used to have an office above one of their stores and i used to go to a class at smith on wednesdays, go to therapy, and then jog for the half hour bus back to umass, reward doughnut in hand.

it opens with a soft-voiced woman telling you about how she likes to decompress by laying in a field and imagining a donut factory in the sky. she gives encouraging little tips and "hey! be nice to yourself!" throughout the game, but mostly at the beginnings of levels and introducing new mechanics. there are, perhaps, overly plentiful achievements.

there are a dozen dozen levels and i played through the first three dozen, or the first three boxes (normie don't draw over your line, multi track drifting, merging paths). i once had a level correct and then hit undo out of indecision and the tutorial lady told me "“You had it, click the undo button in the top right to undo”. which i don't believe i've ever seen in a game.

i stopped at the third box bc there’s a universal order to ingredients (always frosting then sprinkles then whipped cream then etc) but it does not ever tutorialize that it will only put the next ingredient on if the previous ones are fulfilled. like this was the level i figured this out on.

on further levels in this box i was not thinking super hard about what the actual order was and i couldn't really tell you how i solved a particular level except for making sure every possible path existed. maybe this gets super wild in later levels idk but three dozen levels was enough of a novelty for me. if i may be a little mean to a perfectly fine game, it feels like a coding bootcamp project in the way it steps through its logic and introduces new mechanics.

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making

cross stitch update. i don't believe this will be done by my brother's birthday

[wereoz]

@cnka i wanted to reply to ur question abt my thoughts on the tsn doc on my actual post but the tags were so insanely long i was like. i need to make an actual post

SO IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

first off, wow im just so astounded by the fervent love that went into making tsn. it was a risk and so unlike other projects fincher and anyone else there had done but w/ their commitment to it it turned out SO amazingly. the fact they sat around a table and argued for hours abt how the lines fit and everyone could make their case is just. WOW!!!! they really made sure everyone understood and loved playing their characters.

erica's and christies actresses werent very common appearances like mark but they really went all in too im in AWE!! NOT TO MENTION MARYLINS WOW!! rooney mara really just. god she went so hard into making sure all of ericas kindness and leniency and frustration were so clear, she was so focused in the behind the scenes footage and obviously having so much fun <33 i love that brenda song was able to relate to christie's jealousy and fear eduardo was cheating. the fact all the actors ARE the characters ages and are as chaotic and fierce and dedicated and ambitious makes it soooo<3333 rashida jones describing marilyn as a greek chorus just watching hit SO hard. the second hand experience of this young man going through this epic tale by just hearing it thru testimony is a crazy thing. the act of listening is so simple but becomes so emotional even as everyone wants to keep it professional

on the twins: i find it so wonderful that the actors armie and josh played both twins. it just WORKS bc twins take the 'know u better than u do' that siblings have and take it to absolutely insane levels. the fact these actors have literally got access to both the twins minds takes the performance to a whole new level like those twins know each other inside and out!!!! its a meta thing that goes truly crazy.

you have already seen me say the bts of the erica and mark breakup truly kills me bc. he is being an asshole and not listening and the fact he doesn’t mean to doesn’t change that he is. she has to leave, but it’s so sad that she does bc… fincher calling him 'damaged goods' implies a universe where whatever makes him like this isnt present. where maybe he’s fine. so. GOD :’(( (i think it’s autism + the bad life experiences that come from that & being queer + the bad life experiences that come from that, heightened by the era)

on a more positive note i love that on set picking out the accessories andrew says ‘i’ when hes speaking as eduardo. he’s really dedicated to the role its great. also that he and jesse had conversations in character like these 20 year olds r crazy truly. love them for that !!

during the whole thing, everyone is so suspicious, and condemning to mark: like, noting that he is driven by ego, jesse jokes mark is okay with the cold because he doesn’t feel anything, and also, there’s a part when sorkin, fincher, andrew, and jesse are sitting around and talking about the scene where mark & eduardo argue abt ads. essentially, they make the argument that mark always says ‘i’ when eduardo says ‘we’ because in his mind, eduardo hasn’t contributed much at all. while mark is up coding for hours straight, eduardo is at some phoenix thing so? what gives?

so i was reframing my understanding of mark (which. is very indulgent cus i love him), and trying to get as close to his brain as i could and i was coming up with him generally being pretty… hard on the outside for lack of a better word. he’s not traditionally intimidating (like the script states) but its hard to crack him and you can really see this with jesse’s physicality like he’s so stiff. that’s pretty innocuous but i think this is something he uses to put distance between him and his loved ones- very frustrating. and i think every time i realise how much mark is an asshole i remember so many reasons why they added *trying to be.

when fincher called him damaged goods it’s like. the most in the doc people give him the benefit of the doubt (also sorkin saying he wanted to balance out all of mark’s character). which is pretty good because marks good traits are supposed to be very subtle and hit you when you don’t expect it. that’s very much how i felt when i suddenly remembered ‘sorry. that was mean.’ he truly is just trying to be an asshole. he wants to be nicer than he is but he also wants more power than he does and as someone who felt pretty powerless the rest of his life, that trumps the rest. he really thinks he can have both experiences, power and love, and he just hates that every time he takes a step in one direction it cancels out the other. this actually really fits in well w/ my next point

i also want to say that the fact mark videoing everyone was explained as him wanting to force proof that everything is fine, and they’re happy is making me so :(( MARK!!!! :(( he is so. i mean its two things: its the ‘i won, but did i?’ of it all. mark won the argument but its a hollow victory, being some sillicon valley titan isn’t emotionally fulfilling, it will never be enough. especially not when its costing him a good friend. the way the end is laced throughout the entire movie is so sick to me

re marks bullshit i also love how they mentioned that marks jealousy about the final clubs is more than just wanting to be in eduardo’s position its like - i thought we had some loser solidarity and now its like you’re a whole different person. its less of a horrible feeling when ur at the bottom with someone and mark feels betrayed. ofc mark doesn’t feel safe to express this emotion (bc bullied nerd boy whos probs bi in the 2000s), or doesn’t know that’s what he’s feeling, and decides it’s eduardo’s fault and freezes him out for it.

this is just off the top of my head i certainly have more and will probably talk more abt this lovely doc again :^))

[fanaticsnail]

ARGHHH CURSE MY BRAIN FOR FORGETTING SO MANY THINGS (aka even more addition to my answers for the ask game. the ask game is now my reasons for ranting. please be careful of the length of this rant)

How the hell did I forget about Uta my beloved and X Drake my sweetie cop boy. AND KING. AND REIJU. ARJFKFHFKSJ-

• What song makes you think of your favourite character?

For Uta, literally every song on the Film Red album (personally, New Genesis, Backlight, and The World's Continuation really scream Uta to me). The songs really show how Uta progressed in the movie and it's just so fun to hear the tune change from a pop song to rock-style and to rap and then to ballad (that broke my heart). I first knew of Ado this way and boy did she have a really good voice (her growls omg).

On the topic of Ado, there's a really good song (also her debut song) called Usseewa that I think fits Law in the context of him expressing his dissatisfaction and anger towards Doflamingo. The catchphrase of the song is literally a very rude way to say shut up (usseewa), so- yeah.

And riding the bandwagon of "songs I know and ring with a particular character", Luffy with stupid by John Michael Howell (yes, again, I am just dumping songs that have a nice ring to them rn). This song is just my personal headcannon of how Luffy's stupidity mirrors a choice he made (unknowingly?) to preserve the brightness he has and to prevent himself from turning cynical like most of the world. After all, how can you see the good in the world and its people if you're constantly afraid of everything being everything it isn't?

SPOILER ALERT FOR KING'S ORIGINS/BACKSTORY AND X DRAKE'S IDENTITY

Moving on, I just got one for King (my dearest), Just A Man from Epic: The Musical (I have seen the book and it scares me and I have not touched it again since that moment). I know this is a bit turning the lyrics on its head but I feel like it'd fit him in a situation where he sees the Seraphims and he was reminded of his situation. He was a child when he had to witness the extermination of his people. He begins to think about how he's now Kaido's right-hand man and the people he's slain. He doesn't want the Seraphims who look just like his people to witness such violence and get corrupted at such a young age. I feel like deep down, King still wants to go back to a place he called home even when said home might not even be there anymore, but he's too busy trying not to get exposed and sold out to the World Government. The overall melody and lyrics just *slams table* it's just KING-

Back to a lighter mood, bc of a cinematic I saw on Tumblr (and then on Youtube) of Business Man by Tom Cardy with X Drake... yeah. It just sticks so bad I can't even keep a straight face anymore XD (pls watch it. I cannot explain the comedy magnificence in words alone) (cue drake singing i'm a business man with a business plan and apoo and hawkins watching with a look of disbelief)

Link: https://youtu.be/sg9CVmJQZ9o

OKAY SPOILER OVER

• What song makes you think of your OC?

I got a collection of them, but some that really stand out to me is Nobody by OneRepublic for Ainsley since he's Samantha's support pillar (he was the first Anomaly (what I call most of my OCs in this universe) that Samantha (albeit unknowingly at the time) created just for that purpose) which is why he's essentially the other half of her heart. He has been, is, will, and would always be with her as an everlasting companion/counterpart. Where Samantha is the more serious, stressed natural leader type, Ainsley is the laidback chaos in flesh type.

And then there's lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid for Samantha. She's coping with her stress and borderline depression by becoming stoic and hardened (although still easily irritable sometimes (similar to Crocodile tbh)) and when I heard lovely my mind just went "yes that's her song, make her depresso espresso". Add the extra seasoning of something similar to savior complex and just being too responsible for things that she overworks herself (workaholic) because she got them standards.

There's also Royalty because DAYUM this fits her vibe so much. Like she isn't the grand flaunting bright kind of nobility but a "i rule over everything you know but you won't know about it until i tell you" royalty.

Last one for now (because I'm Indonesian and this is played real often in the radio rn), there's an Indonesian song called Gala bunga matahari by Sal Priadi that talks about accepting the passing of a loved one while living on happily as they hoped even though the singer still misses them. It really reminds me of Samantha just reminiscing on the people she they? loved who had already passed. The depresso espresso personality actually comes from Samantha being the first Anomaly created by the (mostly negative) subconcious of the entity right now dubbed as The Primordial One (yes all my Anomaly OCs are self-aware to some extent). The Primordial One of course has origins and that's where the remembering past friends part comes in. Tbh the OC universe is pretty much The Primordial One's subconcious that created a whole new universe and the lore goes deep here as well so I'll cut it right here (might pop up in your askbox with extra bits of lore tho).

• If your favourite character was real and appeared beside you, how would you feel about it? What would you do?

Honorable mentions because they're beloved (these exclude the intial shock reaction)

Uta: KARAOKES. BE FRIENDS WITH HER. SING ALONG. LISTEN TO HER MAJESTIC VOICE. I will teach her the music of this world and then go shopping. OH RIGHT JAMMING TO SONGS FOR HOURS JUST COOPED IN MY ROOM ASKSJKA- (as you can see i am not normal about her)

King (haven't i wrote this already? Anyway): 1. How did you fit into my house without breaking anything, 2. How the hell am I supposed to take you out with all these wings characteristics, 3. What kind of clothes would fit your tall ass

X Drake: so are you a cop - no i'm not - yes you are - of course not! - okay stop. I know you're a cop (shows him the video earlier clips of Wano, the Fandom, and all that) - ...okay then goddamnit - it's okay you're my lizard bbg - w h a t

Reiju: MMM SUGAR MOMMY. I'll save enough money so I can go to Japan and eat fugu (Japanese pufferfish) with her without big risks because have you seen how she saved Luffy from getting poisoned pre-WCI? Hell yeah. Aaand take her out for a shopping trip together and I'd really like to take her to a museum that focuses on biology and not just the appearances (like. museum/aquarium date. that's my mommy)

shiiiiiiiiittttt my rants might've gone out of control. Hugs and cookies for one of my favorite fanfic writers, bye- (i don't want to burden you pls don't feel pressured to answer this and hope i don't have anymore amnesiac sessions akrkrkj)

Now, you listen here. (Affectionately)

You can't just drop "Just a man" on me like that. Its so incredibly emotional, and I think of Gol D Roger every time. Just the:

"I look into your eyes, and think back to the son of mine... I'm just a man who's trying to go home... Deep down, I would trade the world to see my son and wife. I'm just a man."

Okay, now that I've said that. One Piece Red is gorgeous, and I love it so much. The music, the costume changes for the characters in that battle KOBY was just spectacular.

I love Samantha and Ainsley so much. I also adore the song 'Royalty', it's on almost every playlist. I HC that song with the monster trio. As a violinist, it sings to my soul. Samantha hitting it with the Billie Eilish just 🥺🥺🥺🥺. I adore her.

Also, X Drake and King 😭😭😭😭😭. The way you speak on them so passionately 🥹🥹🥹. I love it. I need to write for X Drake so bad. Also, agreed on Reiju. I can't wait to write for her in the next few weeks 🙌. Love her so much.

Thank you so much for your thoughts. I love them so much 🥹

[clambuoyance]

Hi! Sorry for all the notification spamming, I just really really adore your art & the way you draw characters. It's so cool how recognizable all the characters you draw are, like their features/proportions/style idk its amazing. Do you have any tips for how to make a character consistently recognizable in drawings? Also, methinks Tim as Stray would be so much fun in a TimKon relationship, would you maybe pretty please consider doodling a bit of what you think that would look like?

Your brain is galaxy sized, your art is fantastic, and I hope you have a wonderful day<3

Ty! I’m just going to answer your first question, even though you asked forever ago 😭 I’ve drawn stray Tim before but we’ll see if I’m up for drawing it again

Anyways, as for making characters consistently recognizable, I think it helps to make character sheets.

Using my ocs for example, when I redesigned Rolin in my new style, I knew I wanted to have a very Shapey look, so I’d write notes on things such as: how the cheek should curve, what the nose shape is like or how many Fronds in his hair he should have lol

As you can see, I even have arrows indicating the motion of the lines. If you’ve seen some of my posts of my redesigns for the dc characters, sometimes you can see notes in them too. Sometimes I write them, and sometimes I just catalogue the set of “rules” I create for a character in my head.

So yeah, for further example, I knew keiko had to have softer shapes to contrast her with rolin’s personality. I can’t find it, but I have a page in my sketchbook just working out the shape of her hair, which was initially supposed to resemble a butterfly 🦋 but then I made it have boxy angles. Whenever I draw them, I guess I go through their Individual checklists in my head.

Like for rolin:

-more sharp eyes, in an almond like shape. Check

-cheek is curved but “steeper” and leads to a somewhat sharper chin. check

- I usually have to redo the nose a lot but once it’s in the right spot for me I check that off ig

Or for keiko:

- rounder, bigger, more oval like eyes. Check

- hair bangs should start a little to the left of the middle of her forehead line, then to the edge of her ear. Check

- her cheeks should be squishy and round, and she should have a smaller face with her features more closer together. Check

And so on and so on, and the character sheets help because then you get into the practice of doing those same lines over and over, and at different angles or expressions. So even though I want to stretch their face as they contort their facial expressions, I still follow the same structure and adjust accordingly to keep their form, if that makes sense, I’m not perfect at it but I like to think my designs are at least distinct from one another and consistently recognizable

And this is a recent example, which I haven’t posted on tumblr yet bc I have yet to color it, but this is me trying to explore barts design and making sure I could still make it look On Model despite the different facial expressions.

So in summary my strategy would be to

1. Sketch and explore the character design, write notes and study what lines or elements work or don’t work

2. Create a list or repository of the essential elements or a set of steps to recreate the same design

3. Practice and make a sheet where all you do is actually recreate that design over and over again, until your hand can just do it without your brain having to recall the steps one by one , if that makes sense

Of course, I like to redesign all the time as well but I try to at least capture the character’s essence 😗

[fumifooms]

Mithrun x Marcille

Second part of my “Dunmeshi rarepairs I will birth with my own hands if I have to” series

Marcille and Mithrun… No no HEAR ME OUT besides chap 94 I think Mithrun was the most emotional when confronting Marcille about the whole situation of her maybe being on the edge of becoming dungeon lord AND he seemed to empathize with her?!! Look at his face! Listen to his words!

He desired to save her. The ex-dungeon lord who lost everything and the newly dungeon lady about to walk herself into a trap and lose everything. They seem very compatible to me attitude wise, without mentioning that they seem to be each other’s type (Marcille’s succubus, Mithrun’s love). Marcille could even put an eyepatch on him lmfao. I feel like his very blunt attitude (most shown when he confronted Thistle about the flaws in his plan and perspective, but also the whole interactions with Marcille at Thistle’s home) would be good for Marcille, both in a ‘convincing her’ way and just in a general relationship & dynamic way. They’re both pretty tragic characters, who need the same kind of comfort imo. They’re mirrors of each other, he reflects what she would become. The Marcille that has been tempted by Power and desires and is left wrecked from it, regrets, is filled with nothing but vengeance. The Mithrun of the past that might yet still be able to be reasoned with, to be saved. People who wanted to live in an utopia with their loved ones. Listen, everyone by the end is left needing to find themselves a new dream and goal, that’s sorta the point with character arcs and it’s very in theme with the series’ message of constantly desiring new things, BUT I just think it’d be cute if specifically Marcille & Mithrun found a new purpose together ok <3 Mithrun could walk over to her to apologize for the murderous behavior and an acquaintance would start from there. Hnng idk idk it’s understated quiet romance and I love that I’m sorry!!

THIS POST’S TAGS YES YES YOU GET IT!!!!! Listen my fave thing in ships is when the characters surprisingly have that 1 fundamental thing in common like a fear or desire and that is them!!! I love them sm. This is currently the dunmeshi ship I like the most, sorry. I wanna do a full character and dynamic analysis and write a longfic and do fanart and- Edit: here’s some fanart and more rambles about them hehe!! I make some new points I like in it, like how Marcille’s a mom friend who likes caring after her loved ones.

Somewhat related but I think Mithrun overall is a closer allegory to PTSD and brain damage than depression, and ye I do think that would work well with this dynamic’s potential as well- but that’s a topic for another day

Ok btw ship name wise what are we thinking mithrille to be close to “mithril” or “myrtille” which is essentially french for blueberry? Gonna use mithrille esp since it’s an unique word for practicality but there are fun little motifs we could use with their names there

The leftovers </3 The abused second heir bastard that a demon didn’t deign to finish eating and the girl who’ll always outlive everyone she knows and loves.

They met each other when they were both at a mental low, and they can get better from there. It’s a special kind of intimacy when you both intimately know each other’s lowest moments idk. They’ve fought to the death like 3 times they can drop the formalities at that point lmao. (she never wanted to kill him btw, only "overreacted” as instinctive self-defense). I love how everyone had to keep pulling Mithrun off Marcille bc it looked so bad and he couldn’t stop going straight for her throat lol

Presidential alert the babygirls are fighting

[quinloki]

So pre apology but I’m existing on very little sleep and the brain is not completely braining

HOWEVER

….

>>

I went with 7’0” for Thatch since he has no official height and we don’t really see him next to any other characters often to compare (and one piece heights are not consistent, let’s be real). And this already makes my brain go brrr

I legit could not get them out of my head ALL DAY it will not stop so pls have this little trinket of what my brain has come up with

Just imagining being like, a new recruit, and the 1st division commander stops you to ask how things are going after dinner. You’re having to look up at him a bit, but that’s normal around the crew. Thatch pops by, checking in as well. They’re the friendly type so if course they’re gonna check in on the cute new little recruit.

While y’all are chatting by the doorway of the mess hall, someone calls from above deck that land has been spotted. They both go to move you out of the pathway, essentially putting you between them, apologizing as a bunch of unruly crew members go to pass by right where you were all just at to see what kind of land is coming up.

And you go to reassure them it’s fine thank you for not letting you get trampled when you freeze, realizing just how big they are and how easily they just manhandled you out of the way and how you’re essentially buried between them as the crew passes by. You finally stutter it out, but it’s definitely not missed by either man the tone or the fact that you’re completely flushed.

They discuss and make it a point to really drive home the size difference in the next few days. Maybe coming up behind you, moving you gently while apologizing and saying they’re in a hurry. Or sitting on either side of you at a table as you read a book. Maybe even one of them offering to spar with you, wrapping their whole hand easily around your forearm to pull you down or over their shoulder.

By the end of a few days you’re a flustered mess and can’t stop picturing being between the two commanders in more than one way.

…..

Man it’s been awhile since I had such a fluid thought LOL I’m gonna do a few things and then head to bed and hopefully ponder this more bc… gods… I want them. A man who can manhandle me AND open the door/pull out a chair? Perfect xD

okay but I'm 154cm and ...

KAZ YOU ARE KILLING ME.

Oh gods and I can see it too, those two working together. They're besties if ever there were besties and you cannot convince me otherwise. The only reason Marco doesn't leave with Ace to get revenge on Teach is because Pops' word is law for him more than his own personal feelings, and he's come to that belief long before Ace ever crawled into existence.

BUT

Yeah. You're not going to get seduced by one or the other, it's going to be both. Marco's quiet and smooth, and Thatch is a little more animated about things, but just as smooth.

Eventually, it'll be Marco's finger under your chin, letting you get lost in his eyes, asking if they can kiss you, and you just nod almost dumbly like you've been having dreams about these two with all the interactions and teasing that they've done over the last few weeks. If someone doesn't kiss you you're going to explode or just yeet yourself overboard at this point.

Marco leans in, closing that sweet distance slow and steady, and gods your heart is going to just beat against your ribs until they crack, and just before you think it's going to happen, Thatch turns you toward him and kisses you.

The shift was planned between the two of them, specifically to just knock you off balance. You're dizzy from the sudden shift, and gods Thatch kisses like he flirts and right now you can't keep up with it, and the soft moan that tangle between your lips escapes when he leans back. Face flushed, hungry for more, Marco turns your attention back to him, hand warm against your face as he pulls you in.

His kiss is less of a rush, but the flood of blood into your face and lips because of Thatch is making the feel of Marco's lips against yours tingle. The action might be more reserved, but if you ever doubted before that they were in cahoots, you don't doubt it now.

Thatch raises your hand gently within his larger one, kissing the back of your hand softly as Marco lets you lean back from the kiss. There's no escape for you, not that you want it, not that you're being trapped. This isn't a yandere-styled story, the way you've been wooed and won over was soft and sweet, if not calculated and focused.

There's been no guessing in this game, and you know all the options available. Safe between the two, would easily make you the safest person on the grandline.

[magnolia-sunrise]

okay now i can actually Sit Down And Think about this after two shitbusy weeks in a row good lord. it's fun puzzling over this bc the universes are so different so like a lot of ppl i don't have. any clue how grimm n yarrow would even meet wolf and bastien. also it's fun to think abt how grimm n yarrow react to other people considering most of the time they're interacting with one another so it's making me use my brain in fun and exciting ways

idk what the hell the job/task at hand would be, but i think wolf n grimm could make a pretty deadly n sneaky duo if the two of them decided to go in on something together, though grimm's less reckless and more willing to get out and save their own skin if shit goes south, so it's entirely possible things go well enough between them as.....coworkers(?) for awhile, but under the wrong circumstances grimm could essentially abandon wolf to whatever bullshit the two of them got into (though not motivated by any hard feelings so much as their own survival instinct). i don't think either would really divulge much abt their respective pasts, but there might be some mutual respect/acknowledgement there idk

i do not think bastien n grimm would have much conversation between the two of them nor can i really think of any circumstance that would really bring the two of them in proximity however grimm does perform occasional maintenance on wrench so a "hey do you wanna see me take apart my robot dog" might be a point of interest idk hdkghfdgl

i feel like wolf n yarrow would actually get along pretty well; i'm not sure they have a lot of common ground anywhere in terms of life experience or professions, but they're both good enough at talking to people that they'd have some pleasant conversation. hi-tech stuff is very scattered in honeybee's universe and yarrow's more interested in the organic, but he'd be fascinated by them being an android and what that entails

i have. no idea how bastien would react to yarrow's whole …..part-bee deal considering he is very physically off-putting to most people. yarrow's chatty and easygoing but that can only go so far when you have six eyes and fucked-up jaws. if they could get past that the two of them would probably have some fascinating conversations and stories to share abt their respective jobs and almost definitely not say it in outright but kind of mutually recognize like "oh hey you're kinda weird abt this shit like i am and i can respect that'

but also please feel free to tell me if i misinterpreted etither of their characters i am fascinated by what your take on this is hehehe

(sorry for leaving you hanging on this for a bit, handshake on too busy sobs)

yes Yesss Grimm and Wolf would make for a really interesting dynamic i feel especially with very quickly kind of establishing rapport and mutual respect in terms of their skill and also whatever the fuck gender? but that would also mean Wolf would try really hard -at least at first- to chat and get to know them and throw in some flirting to test the waters how far they can push and prod. and when it comes to the action, they are really too willing to lose an arm and a leg and i can only hope at least Grimm would help them pick up the pieces, literally. for what it's worth they're used to doing all this stuff alone so they wouldn't blame Grimm for getting the hell out of dodge when it gets too nasty and would be happy to see it again. not in the least because Grimm actually has a gun and can shoot a gun and they could really use someone covering them at range! they could get matching outfits for their new super cool nonbinary (sort of)sniper /melee duo

Grimm and Bastien is actually really funny to me because they both feel like people who .. don't say too much if it's not exactly necessary? if Grimm needed a hiding place for a bit, he's very much a no questions asked, offers tea or whiskey and a look over it's wounds and then just minds his business. like quiet kindness? (secretly i think Bastien would also wish someone like Grimm could instill some self preservation instincts into Wolfgang hflfk)

Bastien could definitely get over the bee stuff after initial flinch and probably a misunderstanding thinking it's some kind of mechanical modification. i would really love for Yarrow and Bas to smoke a pack and talk about some really weird fucked up anatomy and surgery stuff, doctor to doctor

and! given that some parts of androids are really advanced in the way they simulate organic material (their skin can bruise and 'heal' over time), i feel like soon enough Yarrow, Bastien and Wolfgang would find themselves in a corner looking at some body parts really excitedly and Wolf showing off their inner musculature and the internal 'scars' from their surgeries. Wolf and Yarrow would get along absolutely swimmingly, like maybe their collective yapping would be almost too much fhsdhfk

thank you for this, it was really fun to roll them around in my head!!

[rollercoasterwords]

hey so idk if you’ve seen what’s going on in the fandom rn on tik tok with like ppl shipping orion and fleamost?? i think?? and obviously with that comes the discourse “why is it leah’s mlm ships??” etc etc and ik you’ve ranged and raved abt ppls attitudes towards wlw ships and like that realm in general but like what do you think abt this? bc like. i think there’s truth to the fact that like ppl always cling to the mlm ships but i don’t the negativity thag is bred with this criticism is a good thing yk? idk i’m just thinking thoughts and i wanna know ur thoughts bc i love ur brain and i wanna crawl in there so

lmaoooo i have not seen that but. well sure i'll give u my thoughts since u asked so nicely <3

my first thought is mostly just why would anyone ever care about that. but like. as i have said before do whatever u want it's fanfiction have fun with it and of course i do not want to be drawn and quartered for my hypocrisy seeing as i have in fact written like. stories about very minor side characters. i suppose for me the thing is that what interests me in these minor characters is looking at how their canon stories could potentially intersect in the most devastating ways, so the main thing i don't personally understand is what people find interesting if they're removing the side characters from canon completely, because then they essentially just become. names. on paper. y'know?

so! not sure how or why people are shipping orion + fleamont but i suppose if it's rooted in some sort of....canon...where like they were in love but then took drastically different life paths or something? but then i do feel like there are other characters u can do that with, so again i'm not really sure i understand the draw to those guys in particular. it mostly just feels a little silly to me and well i suppose i can be a bit of a hater sometimes and i think maybe this is one of those times <3 but obviously there's no harm in anyone shipping them i might clown on u if u do but at the end of the day it is not that serious and people should just write whatever they want when it comes to fanfic.

the sexism debate on the other hand.....god. need a cigarette for this one. i mean i suppose i can elaborate a bit more if there's anything specific u wanna know when it comes to my thoughts but overall i think the whole "UMMMM why does this fandom always find new mlm ships to focus on instead of giving the WOMEN time to shine!! we need more wlw rep this is sexism + mlm fetishization!!!!" is. mostly virtue signaling. and a huge simplification of the situation. unfortunately people have really latched onto a few key buzzwords and so i fear the discourse may be here to stay lol

[spindrifters]

Okay, so, since we're talking about how shitty and harmful JKR writing is, I have a theory that she described her villains like Peter (very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Hermione, plump) and Rita Skeeter (heavy-jawed face, large, masculine hands) as transphobic stereotypes bc in her head trans = bad.

welcome to my blog, where deconstructing jkr’s narrative and worldbuilding is the whole bit! in all seriousness, if you’re new here, my thesis statement essentially boils down to this:

I was 5 when the first book was published. I learned to read on them. it’s an intrinsic part of me and there’s just nothing I can do about that. but then I grew up and became more aware of the world around me and my own identity within it and as people respond to it, and furthermore learned how to apply critical thinking. and I think that’s the case for many, many people who have had to decide what to do with these books. some throw them out entirely, and they’re so valid for that. I don’t consider myself a harry potter fan and haven’t in a long time. but it’s a narrative woven into my core development the way maybe a sacred text might be so for better or worse I have to contend with what that means. and by and large I’ve found that my best way of dealing with its place in my brain is to deconstruct its framework to illuminate not only my understanding of the world but also those worldviews with which I disagree. which I guess sort of makes sense when you consider that I’m jewish bc throwing hands with the torah etc is sort of the whole bit. so all this is to say, yeah, we throw hands with jkr’s writing here. welcome. it’s what I do.

tbh I don’t think she was explicitly thinking “trans people are bad, therefore I will trans code these bad characters.” trans people were of course very much in vibrant existence in the late 90s, but not at the forefront of cultural conversation in such a way that a cishet white englishwoman would have really spent much time thinking about them. but what I do think she was doing was pulling at cultural shorthand that in her mind signified morality. she’s not the first to do it, and her writing follows a very specific british tradition of children’s lit that famously includes roald dahl, noted antisemite. so I do think it’s important to look at the fact that those attributes presented themselves as villain-coded to her in the first place. because yeah, you apply even the slightest bit of pressure to it and it’s not at all surprising she turned out to be a massive fucking terf.

[cloverthecuddlycactus]

My Thoughts on Genshin Characters

Albedo

These will be broken up into thirds to help organize my thought process of: my general all around thoughts, what kind of relationship I would have with them if I was in the gi universe, and what I think of their character stories and background

My general scrambled thoughts

I didn't really care for Albedo tbh

He wasn't bad and I didn't dislike him he was just kind of meh?

But then I found out he was essentially a homunculus and adores Klee.

Like sure, you're so stoic and only care about research and yet you have all but adopted this arsonistic child (affectionately)

As well as his search for knowledge. I personally really understand this because I always have needed to learn about everything around me

I always felt on the outside of society and still do.

I wanted to pick peoples brains apart figuratively and literally

I always wanted to learn about nature and animals and still do

But I feel like him and I would get along in this sense that we both share this intense need for knowledge

And he only learns about things that interest him as well, I hate being forced to learn something I care nothing about and will promptly forget when it is no longer of use

I just think it would be neat to learn about some animals or plant species together

He's also an artist! I used to make art all the time but have since lost my passion for it

If I were in the genshin universe I would love to hang out with him. I feel like his main love language would be differing quality time. Like you're in the same area but aren't doing the same thing and just sharing space and everyone once in awhile looking over and asking "how's it going?" And no need for much more conversation

Or we would both be losing our minds over some new found species and we will not shut up about it, no inbetween

Also of I were in the genshin universe, all Characters under 20 would immediately become my children in some form or another whether I just visit and bring presents and spend a lil time before I'm off or they travel with me, they are all my kids.

And Albedo likes kids more than adults and I feel like it's because they don't see him as anything less than a person or don't hold these ridiculous expectations of him and expect him to be this genius all the time either

He's not stone cold tho, he has friends but I feel he has the same worries I do and that's they will leave eventually because we can't give them what they want so we keep ourselves away

He's said that he thinks keeping up friendships with adults is tiresome and yeah, it really is

But I do think it shows a very strong sense of maturity and wisdom that he has some friends in Mondstadt

Even if they don't know him super personally they are there, such as Kaeya and Jean, and they've expressed many times that they'll be there for him whenever he's ready to open up

I think something else that I admire about him aswell is that he's not super cranky or rude to people

Alot of people who have a lot of knowledge tend to forget that others do not know all of these things they know and look down on them bc they forget that they were once there too and lacked this knowledge

Albedo doesn't do that

He balances on a tightrope of secrecy, high intelligence, and never ending kindness. All of his dealings and interactions with other folks are in earnest. Which I respect him for bc I have a hard time being nice to people on certain topics bc I feel it should be common sense or blah blah blah blah

But ya know he never hesitates to lend a hand when someone needs it or asks for it bc he has the mindset of "I have you need it here ya go"

And he's so kind to his assistants Sucrose and Timaeus too

Not only that but alchemy is considered an ancient practice!! That must have been so hard and grueling for him to accomplish! As well as it's been stated that he has knowledge that not even scholars at the akademiya in Sumeru have

And he has such and important job among the ranks of the The Knights of Favonius as well

Just all around mad respect for the man honestly he's everything I want to be in life

In Universe Relationship

If I were just like Aether, Lumine, or Aloy and was a traveler from another world I feel we would get along and be pretty good friends

I would love to bring him pictures whether sketches I've made or actual Polaroid type photographs of me and the kid's adventures in the other lands of teyvat whenever we come back to visit Mondstadt.

I would love to go up into the mountains and ask about any of his findings while we were away and tell him about our adventures. Spend like a week at his research facility with him catching up.

He would be great with the kids too. He would be so helpful

The first kid I adopted was Razor (ill write about that later) and Albedo would be so understanding that Razor can't speak very good English yet and would help him out whenever we're around. And Albedo likes to look at the interactions of people around him so he would have a plethora of knowledge on how to act around people and I bet he would even make a book especially for Razor that has some social stuff in it.

Diona was the second and he would be so understanding of her views but I think he would help her break out of them, such as all people who drink are bad and how awful Mondstadt is for allowing her life to be this way. He would effortlessly help me help her with her anger at Mondstadt and shift it to determination do make her life better. She would no longer be a victim.

Of course Klee and how endearing he acts towards her and her destructive tendencies.

Albedo would be good with Bennett as well and probably ask Bennett to like heat up something for an experiment and help Bennett maybe learn to relax and trust himself that he can in fact control his Pyro vision.

Barbara would be great as well I think learning about so many new things would open up her mind GREATLY and she would probably end up pursuing a life of like science or healing outside of the church in some way and not be brainwashed into the Cult that the church in Mondstadt very obviously is. It would probably spark an interest for her to join us in traveling and learning about all the different things in the world .

Albedo would also be really good at listening to the kids when they talk about something exciting that happened while we were gone and be very kind in explaining anything to them that they wanted to learn about. I feel like he would be a great teacher.

I would also love to learn from him and hear him talk and explain things as well. I really look up to him so it would be very much of a mentor/mentee relationship but I'm like an old student of his that's grown up and we are on more equal terms ya know.

He sees me as like and adult and treats me like one and we're good freinds but he never stops teaching me

I also headcanon him as aromantic, he just never really thinks of romance and just thinks of caring about people and helping them out in general and having a general love for life and all the forms it takes

Character Story

What we know of his character so far is pretty neat actually.

So far he is the only non-organic person in genshin kinda???

He was made in a lab, he was a test tube baby so to speak ya know and I think that the fact that he is as emotionally intelligent as he is is amazing as well

He knows how to handle his emotions and how to take care of himself and what kind of relationships he can have with people and how many before he starts getting burnt out.

He also has ancient knowledge that no one else has and that's pretty neat.

I also like that the devs didn't go the route of him having no emotions at all and making him hateful and rude. I really like that they decided to make him so compassionate

[sege-h]

A couple weeks back, after listening to one too many spooky ghost shows at work, and then waking up to one after a nap, I had a spooky dream with random dudes in it.

Anyway I proceeded to go ‘I should post this’ and kept forgetting about it until now when it’s inevitable because I made art based on the dream and I wanna have the larger context on hand

It’s not one of the dreams I remember in full, I didn’t even right after I woke up, so this is what I remember.

The dream was about two dudes that were in the middle of their beliefs. They were both skeptics that want to be proven wrong. One was a tad more skeptic than the other- that man was more of a mess. He had longer hair, a leather jacket, looked absolutely exhausted

The other dude was more put together and polite. A bit too fancy even because he even wore a bowtie and had an undershirt and a jacket.

And they were skeptic in this way that like...they did believe in the supernatural. They knew how to deal with supernatural things, and knew that there were things like demons out there. But their skepticism came into play when it comes to ghosts specifically, because their question wasn’t so much ‘do ghosts exists’ but more ‘is there proof that ghosts were actually human once’ so that’s what they were looking for

After a ghost hunt, they were reviewing evidence late into the night because they both liked being very through. The Mess of a Guy guy liked to sketch things down in a notebook- it helped him remember things better on top of writing them down.

Since it was very late, the Polite Guy tried to make small talk just to keep awake better, and was like “I watched this one movie recently”

Mess Guy was headdesking on his notebook, raised his head a bit at this and was like “huh, really? What was it about?” and the other guy got kinda flustered and stammered, so Mess Guy was like “oh, was it a gay one?” with a shit eating grin, and he kinda snickered. He continued listening to more investigation audio, and went back to headdesking

But as he closed his eyes he started having sketchy visions of himself somewhere in the woods or something, from the POV of something watching and following him, and he had that feeling of Dream Dread that something bad will happen.

He opened his eyes and was like “fuck. I’ve been at this too long, I can’t close my eyes. I can’t be awake or asleep, it’s all too much” and he slumped down on the floor, kinda curled up

Polite Guy was like “You just need sleep. I’ll keep at this and then we can head home” and he closed his eyes to let out a sigh But he had the same type of sketchy visions, and right after he kinda shakily came down to the floor next to the other guy because he realized this wasn’t just sleep deprivation-something was very wrong. And he like picked up Mess Guy and cradled him in his arms and kept going “It’s alright, I’m here, I won’t let anything get us”

And he looked towards the window next to them. And Mess Guy’s reflection was facing away because he was slumped in his arms with his back to the window. But Polite Guy had that same Dream Dread feeling that something very bad would happen if he saw the face of the other guy’s reflection

And then I woke up

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[bestworstcase]

What are your feelings on Oscar, when you clearly have many well developed thoughts on the crackhead who dwells in his brain?

my son :(

im so fascinated by his relationship with ozpin bc on the one hand oz obviously cares about him and wants to take care of him and oscar—despite the circumstances—is likewise obviously coming to see ozpin as a kind of mentor and friend; but on the other ozpin is also literally a parasite feeding on oscar’s soul and neither of them can do anything about the inexorable erosion of oscar’s identity and personhood what the fuck?!!

(congrats to ozma for getting a worse deal out of immortality than fucking salem 😐)

and from oscar’s side reincarnation feels to me like it’s a central mechanism in rwby’s interrogation of destiny as a concept. the thing is—ozma is the ONE character in this story who has a genuine pre-ordained destiny, because that’s what he signed up for when he agreed to become GOL’s chosen one. and because of that, and because of the way his reincarnation works—the likeminded souls thing—i think there’s a really interesting question to ask about oscar, and every other vessel who came before him, which is if they only existed in the first place BECAUSE ozma would need to reincarnate into them.

is oscar a likeminded soul because he just coincidentally happens to have similar enough intrinsic characteristics to ozma that made their souls compatible? or did the god of light—who expressly sees humankind as an experiment he is entitled to do whatever he pleases with, and who is nothing if not a giant control freak—make arrangements to ensure that there would always be a suitable vessel around when ozma needed to come back? like

we know it’s possible for a person’s magic to be split from them and given to someone else, because that’s how ozma created the maidens. and we know that it’s likewise possible for someone to remove a bit of their aura and make a new, unique individual with it, because that’s how pietro made penny.

further, while ozpin (known liar) claims he’s the “combination of countless men”, what we’ve seen is that there never appears to be more than two people in his head at a time—himself and the host. why?

the explanation that makes the most logical sense to me is that it’s always, and only, ozma’s aura. that each of his vessels has essentially been like penny—a person, a new soul created from half of ozma’s aura; that the merging is simply the separated halves of his own aura recombining again, and as soon as the process is complete his aura bifurcates again and one piece flies away to make the next vessel.

so if that’s the case every vessel is just a person literally created for the specific purpose of becoming the next ozma, and while some degree of consciousness seems to be retained throughout the merge their individuality and autonomy is destroyed as a natural consequence of being shunted aside to make room for ozma’s soul.

which—returning to oscar specifically—not only has some fucking horrifying implications for his sense of self and identity but also makes me very curious to see if and how he and ozpin are separated, as i feel is rather likely. if you’re a person who was made to essentially be the placeholder consciousness in the next vessel for god’s chosen one and you get halfway through dissolving after he takes up involuntary residence in your head what the hell do you do when he’s removed again and given his own body? how do you make sense of who and what you are now, released from what was literally a destiny to effectively die so somebody else could keep living? separation wouldn’t remove the shared memories, the bits and pieces of ozpin that became a part of oscar’s soul too, and that’s a whole new crisis of identity waiting to happen. one thing to helplessly feel yourself turning into somebody else—another to get halfway there and suddenly get a “never mind! you get to be yourself after all!”

(also how wild would it be for oscar to meet ozpin again but face-to-face this time lmao. you were just a farm boy you have no idea who you are anymore but you are shaking hands with the voice who lived in your head for two years and ate part of your soul this MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN)

on a less existentially horrifying note oscar deciding to treat himself to retail therapy after jaune’s little breakdown and then making casserole blissfully unaware that all of his panic stricken friends were running all over icy san francisco searching for him is one of the funniest minor plot beats in the show so far. king of not telling anybody that he finally remembered ozpin’s bank code and is going to buy himself a coat

[uhnomahlee]

in their eyes

synopsis - will they or won't they? includes - agender!hange, black plus-size agender original character, friends to potential lovers, essence of sub!hange, gay besties flirting, unspoken admiration, etc. {mdni/f}

a/n - dis not my first fic ever but for this fandom yeahhh i got my black plussize agender readers. i can't use [y/n] bc my brain is demolished and literally does not insert any name so ill just make up ocs. but yall should know i had to make a background for these darker skinned folk. ive established their history (not in this story...not yet) so there's not just a random nigga in the walls. anyways enjoy :3

-

“Goodnight Hawa,” Amahle gave a warm smile as they began to leave the new recruit’s side. The rest of the dorm was beginning to quiet down as fatigue set in and lights out crept closer. Chatter slipped into sporadic murmurs.

The wide-eyed individual, racked with anxiousness and already attaching theirself to the presence of the older soldier, hesitated to reach out a hand to stop them. “Um…”

Amahle looked back at Hawa, brow-bone lifting in silent encouragement to speak.

“Thank you,” they muttered, twiddling their thumbs. “I know this is an inconvenience--constantly checking up on me and whatnot. But you are…the closest resemblance of any family or friends I had before moving into the walls. I apologize for making you worry.” Hawa kept their gaze elsewhere as they spoke, mahogany skin warming.

Their breathing hitched, feeling a hand on their shoulder, mustering up the courage to look up and meet Amahle’s eyes. Tears threatened to spill in response to the unexpected statement, the older individual’s grip tightening. Their chest constricted as they kept a breath that would be sure to lead to a full session of wailing.

“Please,” Amahle began, voice breaking, “do not apologize. My care and kindness are not forced by anything you do. We are the embodiment of the clans we left behind. Our link is inevitable. I will try my best to protect you and return you home to see your family again."

Now the tears forming in Hawa's eyes did not resist slipping down their round cheeks. “I…I will also protect you. Your family will see you again too.”

Embracing Hawa tight, Amahle’s lips quivered as they cried quietly into their shoulder. They stayed a couple of minutes after to soothe Hawa, hoping to lift whatever burden they were harboring before it was officially lights out. Moving the chair back near the wall, Amahle prepared to leave, lifting their lantern from the nightstand. They whispered goodnight back to the recruits, shushing them while they tried to get out of the room without any person in command catching them again…for the eighth time this month. They shut the door, untwisting the doorknob so the bolt would be slid into place without a peep.

Amahle’s muscles grew rigid as soon as they saw the figure standing near them in their peripheral.

“Commander,” they greeted, skin heating as they faced Erwin. “I was…someone reported a…the kids were fighting again?”

“Do you even believe yourself?” A thick blond brow quirked along with the question.

Slumping their shoulders, Amahle knew they were caught from the get-go. “Some recruits were feelin’ uneasy. I've seen the way they train when they don't get a good night’s rest. Was just makin’ sure everything was alright.” They readied theirself for the disciplining that could or could not be worse than Levi’s.

“There has never been a soldier that took upon the caretaker role that is essential in these dorms. They would think it's a burden to handle the stress of our mission along with the emotional turmoil of young individuals. You are different. Your presence now is one of the aspects that will keep these kids alive in the long run.” Erwin placed a hand on Amahle’s shoulder for a moment before returning his arm to his side. “Before you turn in, I noticed Hange’s light still on and that can only mean they have not taken a single break since you last checked on them.”

“I was just on my way,” they replied, choked up.

“Are you alright?” Erwin asked, eyes widening at the contorted look on their face.

“Yeah,” Amahle cleared their throat. “Just been one hell of a night.”

Erwin nodded in understanding. “Okay then. You should get going. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Commander.” Amahle departed with a small wave. Wiping underneath their lash line, they tried to compose theirself as they made their way to Hange’s quarters. If they saw Amahle in this state there wouldn't be a reason to attempt to put them to bed.

Their friendship was a spectacle behind the walls. The moment Amahle was seen entering the walls in an attempt to join the Survey Corps, Hange over-enthusiastically volunteered to be a guide. When the higher-ups asked about their background, Hange’s stare earned them multiple lectures in respecting Amahle’s space. But they couldn't help it. There was a certain aroma they had never smelled before that wafted off of them, putting the soldier into a trance. They recognized the scent from a flower that was found on an expedition they led far into the forest. Then their focus would be brought to the short black kinky hair, spirals of close-knit coils shaped around Amahle’s head.

Hange had speculated before there was a mystical purpose to Amahle’s arrival and very being. There was a moment during dawn as the sun began its ascent over the mountains in the distance, rays of light stretching across the camp. Just waking up to finish a report, Hange decided to stretch their rigid body by going on a walk outside. As they were pulling their hair back up into a ponytail, proofreading the image of the report in their head, scuffling came from in between the dormitory. They quieted their steps, creeping up towards the sound. There they saw Amahle sitting with a journal in front of them, pencil tapping their inner thigh as they tilted their head from side to side. Before Hange could realize it, they were walking towards them, heart pounding hard against their chest.

Amahle had straightened up, the crunch of dirt under boots interrupting their journaling time. They turned around to see who it was, a small smile making a way onto their lips before they stood up. They had not noticed their heartbeat speeding up or the warmth that crawled across their cheeks as Hange approached them.

From a distance, Hange admired the thickness of their body, eyes wandering over their physique before meeting Amahle’s gaze. They waved, mouth parting to speak, however oblivious to their building anxiousness, everything was dry. Clearing their throat loudly, the embarrassment had begun to hound Hange.

“Good morning, Hange,” Amahle had greeted, clutching their journal and pencil in one hand. They shifted their stance to follow Hange’s movement, a sliver of light falling upon their face.

When Hange had regathered theirself, they greeted back, “Good morning, Amahle.” They marveled at Amahle’s smooth umber skin glimmering both in the shadow and light. Gulping they let out an airy chuckle, rubbing the nape of their neck in an attempt to distract theirself from the trance they were about to enter with joy. “You’re up early.“

“Yup. The air is so crisp at this time and this sunrise is beautiful.” Amahle looked to the mountains, a longing stare into the distance.

“Ah,” was all Hange could say, words swept from their mind as they studied Amahle’s features. “Would you like to walk with me?” Hange offered as a friendly gesture knowing well they preferred to be alone in the morning especially after finishing reports.

“I would like that.”

The love accumulated in their time knowing each other made their friendship dip into the pools other than platonic. There were the touches that lingered a bit longer, elusively possessive. Proximity invasions that they would pass off as teasing, ignoring the glances to each other’s lips. Multiple sparring sessions that ended with one sitting on one another, heavy pants exchanged with the winner on top skimming their fingertips down the torso of the loser while they gripped their thighs.

Nearing a year and a half of intimacy, neither was making a move anytime soon, finding happiness in the complacency of their relationship. To have someone around and be there for each other like the two did filled something in their being that was critical for their survival. A necessity.

Trudging down the hall to Hange’s door, Amahle didn’t bother knocking as they entered, letting out a sigh as they saw Hange hunched over their desk, leg bouncing as they tried to focus on the last part of an equation. They kept quiet as they crept up behind their best friend, peering over their shoulder to take a look at the mess of papers spread out on the desk. Their eyes darted over each page, double-checking their work because they knew it should never take this long to finish.

Plucking the pencil from Hange’s hand, Amahle erased their mistakes and quickly wrote in the correct numbers. They had leaned over the chair, scent sending tingles down their back . Following their corrections, Hange’s heart swelled with appreciation. Their brain was becoming sore from the immense focus they had on these pages for hours and now it felt like the gnawing had subsided.

Finishing off the last page, Amahle dropped the pencil, mouth close to Hange’s ear. “Now get your ass in bed.”

“You’re so scary when you talk like that. I wasn’t even going to argue.” Hange succumbed to the demand, body squirming in the seat. They had a hate-love connection with the way Amahle’s tone would switch up. It was like they were getting snatched up by the back of their shirt and chastised—partly true. "And also, thanks for the help."

There had been a moment where they had a couple of drinks in the tavern, the numbness of alcohol taking over with a subtle chaos. Hange was doing a bit too much asking for another cup of beer, leaning their body across the bar, half-singing their unruly request. Their comrades were trying their best to keep them at bay, searching for the individual who was always beside them and able to subdue them with a single finger. Walking out of the bathroom, Amahle’s gaze immediately fell on Hange with their ass poking out from violating the bar while Moblit tried to calm them down. Entirely too drunk for the scenario, Amahle marched up to Hange, people moving out of their way when they heard and saw them coming. They wrapped an arm around Hange’s torso, taking the cup from their hand and setting it down at the bar.

“They’re in trouble,” Ymir snickered, scooting their chair closer so they could be in earshot of the upcoming conversation before Mikasa pulled them back with one hand.

As Amahle set Hange down, they gripped the front of their shirt steadying their sway. “Hange, look at me.”

“Yesss?” Hange slurred. “Amaaaa you look pretty in this light too?” They groaned, smacking their forehead. “Gosh…”

Drunk ears blocked out the sentence. “You need to keep your ass off the bar. The workers don’t get paid entirely enough to deal with you and you keep breaking everything,” they said in a low voice, deep tone stroking Hange’s senses like a melody.

Hange nodded, sputtering out a laugh. “Sawry. I-I just feel really happy.” They paused to burp. “And you”—their hands skimmed Amahle’s hips—“are the reason for it all.”

Amahle had blinked, stunned. They fought the sensation in the pit of their stomach as Hange began caressing their waist, planting their palms around it and massaging the pudgy area.

“Um. Okay then. J-just don’t go overboard again. 'Cuz I can't stop the whole bar from wanting to fight you. Attempt yes.” Their grip loosened, irritation faltering.

“Mhm. Whatever you say, Ama. I can do whatever you want,” Hange sang, fingers crawling under their shirt.

“I have to go to the bathroom!” Amahle blurted, escaping back into the corridor.

Hange pursed their lips, scouring the area. Landing on the group of girls from the team trying to make themselves disappear from a very drunk Hange’s eagle eye. With wide arms, they approached the table, jumping into unprepared bodies.

Standing up from the desk, Hange pulled off their tank top tossing the fabric onto bed near where Amahle sat, watching. Goosebumps rose across their skin as they undressed, the heat of their comrade’s stare prominent. They bite the inside of their lip, unbuttoning their pants slowly.

“Just hurry and take it all off. You need to get to bed,” Amahle said, crossing their legs to try and ease the tension in their pelvis. Their eyes lingered on their scarred torso, body humming in response.

There was that tone again, making the pants come off immediately. After undoing their chest binding, they rolled their shoulders back, stretching out their body as they hopped into bed. Amahle stood by their side, approving how quick they got into bed.

“Good job, Hange. Feels nice huh?”

Unknowingly awaiting the small praise, Hange’s cheeks reddened while they nodded. “It does.”

“I’ll leave you to get some rest, Hange.” Amahle smiled, pulling the blanket up their torso a bit more, bending down as they tucked them in. “Have pleasant dreams.”

When their lips met Hange’s forehead, Amahle cherished the contact they had a routine of doing, hand on theirs, thumb stroking their skin. Pulling away, their nose skimmed Hange’s, heart ready to break from its cage. They both froze, fingers intertwined, the skin of their lips brushed against each other.

“I,” Amahle croaked, “I’m gonna let you get some rest. I know that brain of yours needs a break.” They used the excuse to tear away from Hange, picking up the lantern from the ground.

“R-right. You need rest too. Don't let me distract you.”

Amahle wanted to be distracted so bad. The small ache in the pit of their stomach was nearly unbearable. Their knees resembled jelly, almost giving out while they retreated.

For the sake of their friendship, Amahle only glanced at their hardened nipples for a second, mustering up the strength to say a simple, “Goodnight, Hange.”

Will you stay, the thought never processed into verbal communication, dying off as Amahle waved goodbye.

“Goodnight, Amahle.”

[realcube]

comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💝

characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi

thanks to anon for the request (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)

tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint

Kenma Kuzome

bb has cat senses so he can tell when you’re sad

he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when he’s sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs

so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE

like he knows you’re sad but a part of his mind is just like ‘heh, (y/n) burrito.’ like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!

anyway, the first thing he always does when you’re down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burrito 

also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if it’s at an okay volume then he’ll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to say 

you usually comes up with the something basic like, ‘what’s wrong?’ but i mean, you don’t really mind - at least he’s making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol

depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you don’t think you’ll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again

then he’ll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordingly 

assuming that you say ‘no’ bc you want his presence, he’ll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh

..you always comfort him so well 🥺 and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then it’ll work just as well

so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, ‘you know i love you, right?’ , ‘i hope you feel better soon’, ‘do you want me to bring you some food?’

he’ll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible 

and he’ll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises  ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)

Kōtarō Bokuto

i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again - he’s such an empath and so overdramatic

so when he comes home from work and you don’t run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- he’s about to burst into tears himself

so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS

emo-mode engaged :(

his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, ‘(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating you 

‘bokuto, get off me!’ you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket

 when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worse 

he threw himself into your arms, howling, ‘(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!’

at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two

‘bo! you should know you’re own strength by now.’ you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes

‘I KNOW!’ he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck

you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, ‘bokuto..’ 

there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, ‘(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?’

you’d explain the issue to him and he’d do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable that’s making you sad in the first place?

like, if you were just fired from your job, he’ll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you don’t stop him

or if your loved one died, he’ll become a fkn medium or study resurrection

or if you’re just stressed from exams/tests, he’ll just be like ‘why do you need to go to uni anyway?’

‘so i can get a qualification.’

‘why do you need that?’

‘so i can apply for a job.’

‘why do you need a job?’

‘so i can make money, so i don’t starve.’

‘you can have my money!’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naïve; honestly, you couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not. ‘what if we break up?-”

“DON’T SAY THAT!” he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you

Wakatoshi Ushijima

both you and ushijima’s pride did not allow y’all to cry in front of one another 

if you ever had to cry, you’d just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out

and if he ever had to cry, he’d just do it in the shower

but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it

i mean, up until now y’all had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?

and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves

 that was, until today

you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down

ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping list 

but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze

like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasn’t sure if he was seeing this correctly

your face was buried in your hands so you didn’t notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him

it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl

like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination

after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, ‘uh, is everything okay?’

‘everything is fine, toshi.’ you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, ‘did you come down here to tell me somethi--’

‘i can tell that there is something wrong.’ he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. ‘do you want to tell me?’

you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktop 

but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him, 

‘work?’ he hummed his assumption

‘yeah.’ you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being

but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense

Kei Tsukishima

ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE

wait no well, he doesn’t make it worse but he doesn’t make it better either

like he’ll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesn’t know how to act

this is the first time he’s seen you cry bc usually y’all keep your emotions to yourselves - you’re both v independent like that （￣︶￣)

anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you 🙄

‘awh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?’ he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname ‘couch goblin’

‘‘TSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!’ you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about it 

‘bitch, i live here.’ he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted

on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when you’re already sad

but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help

he’d feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he could’ve done something to make you feel better 

‘do you really want me to go?’ he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice

there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, ‘no.’ then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you

he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness

‘what could’ve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?’

‘evilest blanket demon’ - that was definitely a new one, and you’d be lying if you said a small snicker didn’t escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname

and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, you’ve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed love 

in his vocabulary, ‘you’re so annoying.’ is equal to ‘i love you’

so him calling you an ‘evil blanket demon’ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery

you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listens 

feel free to ramble on about anything/everything that’s worried you for the last few months bc he’s all ears 

he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic who’s good with words 

if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like ‘uh, don’t cry - i understand what you’re going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.’

so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lil’ ‘mhm’ or ‘yeah’

he’s probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as you’re eating the meals he delivers to you and you’re staying healthy, he’ll just let you mope until you feel better tbh

Keiji Akaashi

boyfie material right here

i’m hardly an akaashi simp but he’s probably the best at comforting you while you’re sad tbh

because he’s literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so he’s very good with reassuring people😌

also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG

he’d text you the usual ‘goodnight ❤’

and you’ll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply ‘goodnight 💕’ 

then he’ll deadass text back like ‘i’m coming over. what’s wrong?’

HE JUST KNOWS!! don’t question it bc he doesn’t even have a logical answer lol

anyway, he’ll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him what’s wrong 

‘you’re coping so well, (y/n).’

‘i’m so proud and i love you so much.’

‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’

‘would you like a hug?’

‘you’re beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.’

‘do you want me to get you ice-cream?’

a king- 👑

also, you weren’t embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry before 

plus, y’all both established at the very beginning of the relationship that you’d both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible

so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour ✨)

akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great advice 

but if you don’t want his advice and you’d prefer him to just listen, then he can do that too 

honestly, he’d do basically anything to make you feel better 🥺

[viacursecasting]

helloo , question .. how do you draw your sonic characters and bodies ? face , torso , and that kind of stuff .

i am able to draw sonic characters well enough but when it gets past the chest and shoulders i just make a rounded shape or try to conveniently hide it . thank you if you respond !

( btw your art is gorgeous may i eat it /pos )

Hi anon! <3 I hope you’re still here, sorry for the wait. This was tricky to answer since I mostly just wing it lol but I will do my best to explain my thought process! Keep in mind that this is just how I do it, that doesn’t mean it’s the right way, plus I’m learning new things all the time ^^; Excuse the messiness and the rambling:

Personally I like to draw characters about 4 heads tall, sometimes even 5 heads if I’m in a “legs for daaays” kinda mood lol. Officially Sonic characters are about 3 heads tall, but I find that giving them longer limbs gives me more freedom to make dynamic poses. In this example, you can get an idea of how tall I make them:

After figuring out the height, I draw what I call the flow line or action line (not my term… p sure I stole that from someone lol). This helps the piece feel more dynamic, preventing it from feeling too stiff. In this case with Silver, it’s the pink-ish line:

Notice how I draw circles for the joints. That just helps with proportions, in other words, the length of the limb compared to the body. Think about where your elbow is in relation to your torso; that’s usually where I put it. For Sonic characters, hands and feet are really big. I usually make them about the size of the face.

My sketches change all the time… Sometimes I don’t even keep the sketch bc it usually turns into the “lineart” layer (in quotes bc my lineart is just cleaned up sketches ^^;) But I found this Espio sketch. Notice how it changed quite a bit. I felt that his body was too stiff, so I exaggerated the bend to his body and felt that looked much better. Basically, exaggerate curves whenever you can:

Another tip: When it comes to perspective in limbs, think about if you were to chop the limb (a bit morbid, I know lol). Which way would the limb face?

I also like cropping the characters so that they extend past the page. This helps them feel like they exist outside of the canvas and prevents them from feeling confined within the frame.

Here are most of the tips summarized:

Here it is a bit cleaned up:

If you think about it, everything is essentially a 3D shape: a sphere, cylinder, cube, etc. Sometimes they’ll be altered shapes (torsos are basically altered cylinders, feet are altered cubes, and so on). If you can make these shapes, you can draw pretty much anything! That’s all you need to take away from this, really <3

Those are all my secrets ;) Sorry it’s all over the place, my brain is just so scrambled asdfgh but I hope this helped a little, and maybe I’ll see your art sometime! <3