#I also forgot to mention that the curse makes it so memory stuff regarding the other is weird

[steampoweredstrawberry]

I finished Another last night, and after sitting with it, I have some thoughts regarding it. This is going to be spoiler-y, so heads up if you want to watch a 10-year-old anime or read the book.

My initial impression was the art is nice. The characters have this doll-like quality with large eyes and bodies reminiscent of ball jointed dolls. It's also great at setting up atmosphere in the early episodes. The first few episodes are great at making the town and school feel eerie and spooky without outright introducing the horror of everything. This kind of wanes for me personally in later episodes, but the first 3 or so are great at establishing mystery.

Okay, so onto plot:

In the most basic sense, Another is very Final Destination-core. The premise is there is this middle school where class 3 of grade 9 (correct me if I'm wrong) has this curse called "the calamity" where there is another person on the roster who is not supposed to be part of the class (hence the name). This person is dead, and I'm pretty sure they don't know they had died. This person being there results in a domino effect of deaths in this class, which are both senseless and gruesome. The curse also extends to their loved ones.

The main characters are Koichi, a boy who transferred to this school from Tokyo when he went to go live with his grandparents after his father had to go abroad for work (side note: I loved the phone calls with the dad where all he can talk about is how hot it is in India and the food he's been eating; it's cute). Koichi for me was a good POV character as he is a transfer student who isn't aware of the curse, so it makes the lore dumps for our sake make sense in universe. The other main character is Mei, a strange girl in Koichi's class who wears an eyepatch on her left eye and who the other students in the class seem to not know exists.

Pretty shortly into the series, you find out that the students not acknowledging Mei is a counter curse superstition. They choose one student in the class, and they act as though they're not there, thinking it will prevent Another person from appearing. This is also around the time that 1. the deaths start happening and more importantly 2. you find out Mei's left eye was replaced with a doll's eye when she was younger, and this doll eye gives her the ability to see the aura of death. Basically, she can see when a person has died/can tell who the dead person in the class is.

It's there that the plot kind of fell apart for me. The students don't know there is a way to stop the Calamity (I forgot to mention it in the premise section, but you can stop The Calamity if you identify the other and kill them, effectively returning them to the death they evaded)once it starts until a few episodes after Mei reveals her ability, but there's this whole mystery where the students are trying to figure out who the dead person is and Mei just...doesn't use her ability. On top of that, in the penultimate episode, Mei tells Koichi that she has known who the dead person was for pretty much the entire time and just...didn't tell anyone because...they were important to Koichi and "it wouldn't change anything" when...it would have? There was only a handful of deaths when they find out how to break the curse, and Mei decides to keep her mouth shut, which results in many more deaths leading up to them finally breaking the curse. I wonder if the novel did things differently/Mei didn't have this power because her having it and pointing out that she always knew retroactively ruins the them trying to solve the mystery.

That said, once everything is revealed, I can say the narrative did set up clues that the audience could use to solve the mystery. They weren’t consistently there, but viewers who pay attention will be able to put the pieces together.

Overall, I liked the atmosphere and characterization was good, but Mei's ability ruins the whole conclusion for me.

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[tenshindon]

*waves* Hi, I'm Silver. I want to write Yamcha more accurately (he seems really nice?), but I haven't the time or money to buy the manga or episodes, so... any tips, I guess? Can you help me? Thank you 🌻💜

hiya !! i’m always happy to talk about yamcha and The Character Of yamcha :) gonna put my thoughts under a read more cause this Might be long:

I havent watched Z or Super in a while but I do watch and read through the original Dragon Ball often so accuracy May Vary due to my trash memory. I’m also going to try to keep the games’ depictions of him out of this since accuracy varies among those.

The first thing I wanna touch on is Yamcha’s ego- especially how it evolves over the series. The main thing to keep in mind is that while he is generally cocky about his fighting abilities (which is a major weakness of his as he underestimates his opponents often and gets in trouble because of that), he’s never overly confidant with himself as a person; he seldom tries to paint himself as a better person in comparison to others and rather keeps realistic skepticism about himself. It’s also worth noting that, depending on how old Yamcha is in your depiction, his awareness for his fighting inadequacy compared to his friends varies (the older he is obviously the more conscious he is).

Next thing I’ma talk bout is something that i see kind of treated inconsistently; Yamcha’s relationship with women and his love life. I feel like a lot of people forget that Yamcha’s defining character trait in Dragon Ball was his gynophobia- he chased Goku and his friends so long for the dragon balls so he could remedy his fear of women. Of course, he eventually does date Bulma as they realize dating each other would resolve their mutual wishes for Shenron (Bulma’s being getting a boyfriend and as mentioned before Yamcha’s fear of women). As we’re all aware though, nearly a decade later Yamcha and Bulma mysteriously separate, and the reason for doing so is never explicitly made clear in canon (I could honestly make a whole separate post on Bulma and Yamcha’s break up- there’s a lot to discuss with it so if anyone wants that let me know lmao). The majority believe that Yamcha was unfaithful which, in review of his whole character, makes literally no sense- even just subtracting his fear of women (though I’ll elaborate on that later). But back on track and in regards to his fear of women, it never fully goes away. It just so happens that he’s most comfortable around Bulma, and since Bulma’s the most prominent female character of the series we tend to forget his fear in the first place. When around other female characters, he’s subtlety more anxious- or at the very least he isn’t so much of a playboy as fanon interprets him to be. One final thing to note is- unless I remember the series wrong (and anyone’s free to correct me on this)- Yamcha’s never implied to have gotten another girlfriend or even a lover at any point. Of course it’s hard to track the intricacies of Yamcha’s life- this is a shonen anime where slice-of-life episodes are limited, and even then Yamcha is far from being a prominent character anymore (post Dragon Ball).

Up next is his loyalty/friendships, methods of handling conflict, and overall courage because in my rat brain these all go hand in hand. Nevertheless, Yamcha’s a devoted friend- he’s shown time and time again to be supportive of his pals and, even in spite of his shortcomings, always does his best to help the gang out. Like i touched on before, as Yamcha gets older, he’s more and more aware just how far behind in training he is in compared to his peers. But that doesn’t stop him from trying to fight off whatever threat’s present. So with that we can infer that even if Yamcha can’t be the absolute best, that’s not going to stop him from at least trying if it means helping his friends or making them feel better. Additionally, he’s quick to stand up for others, even if he doesn’t know them too well or even at all and he’s shown not to hold onto grudges. One thing to remember is that, presumably for 16 years, Yamcha’s only companion was Puar (that’s not even considering his life before meeting her) and most interactions he has with people involve robbing them. His social skills might not be the best (though that doesn’t mean he can’t act socially capable- he clearly has no issue trying to make Beerus feel comfortable and like a friend at Bulma’s party) but again, his social skills varies with age and the situation. But again, referring back to his readiness to defend others, he isn’t afraid of getting into conflict if it means helping someone else.

Last few topics I’m going to talk about are his relationships with property, finances, and goals- they seem like a small topics but I still want to talk about it. Now hopefully we’re all familiar with Yamcha’s beginnings of being a desert bandit- and seeing his methods of obtaining items, he didn’t try to charm his victims into giving him their stuff. He just took it if he could if he couldn’t intimidate them and retreated if he couldn’t get what he wanted (which is also noteworthy of Yamcha’s awareness of his limits- a bit contradictory to his fighting ego but it seems that if Yamcha’s certain he isn’t able to win something, then he’ll save himself if it means delaying a goal or staying alive). He doesn’t seem to mind playing the long game either, as he’s willing to tail Goku and co. for months as he waits for them to gather the dragon balls without ever letting his true intentions slip. When it comes to finances, Yamcha doesn’t seem to care to heavily about them: back in the desert, Puar mentions to Yamcha that he should wish for money to which Yamcha dismisses it quickly, stating he could just steal money if he really needed it. It’s also worth noting that despite being a successful baseball player by Super, Yamcha chooses to live in a modest apartment. Either he’s very paranoid with money and, despite having enough to buy a full house, chooses to live in a cheaper apartment building or he’s more comfortable with smaller living spaces- which makes sense since he’d lived nearly two decades in a desert cave and had to scavenge for supplies (plus he seems to still think fondly of the desert as he has a painting of such in his apartment).

For the TL;DR version of this post, here’s essentially what you should keep in mind when portraying yamcha:

He’s generally a very lax, simple, and sociable person when he wants to be- though a bit socially awkward when he isn’t prepared

He’s not egotistical, but he has a bad habit of underestimating his enemies at times. this changes over time of course.

While he’s not itching for conflict, he is loyal and quick to stand up for friends and strangers alike

He acknowledges he isn’t the best, but that doesn’t stop him from trying

He’s ambitious and seldom gives up on his goals

He cares little for huge amounts of wealth or property and generally is just trying to get by in life comfortably

While not cripplingly petrified of women post DB, he still maintains a mild anxiety around women he doesn’t know- even around women he does know pardon Bulma he’s still a bit on edge

I’m done with my character study using the anime and manga, but I like talking about Yamcha so below this little buffer I’m going to get into how the games portray him. I might’ve forgot something or got some things wrong so feel free to talk to me about that if you want to. Anyways, you can stop reading if the above is all you’re concerned with- regardless if you keep reading or not, I wish you the best of luck in writing Yamcha ! :)

If you’re still reading, join me in my continuous ramble of the Rubix cube of Yamcha’s character because Toei and Toriyama can’t be consistent.

Something that seems to be portrayed a significant amount is that Yamcha’s aware of his charm and that he uses this to advantage to smooth talk his way out of situations- not that he just so happens to be good looking and endearing and his panicked socialization just happens to work out for him. In regards to his way of talking out of situations, that’s honestly something I could see if Yamcha acknowledges he’s against a threat much greater than his fighting abilities will allow him to handle- and it’s not like he doesn’t consider himself attractive, if we’re to take his reaction to losing his tooth as anything (in case you aren’t aware, he curses Goku for ruining his “beautiful” face). An example of this is most prominent is his interaction with Frieza in FighterZ, where Frieza remarks that Yamcha is both “handsome and sensible”, to which Yamcha attempts to keep the conversation casual so as to not have to fight (which he later points out to Goku once the latter urges that the three of them should just start fighting already). Though I’m sure his first reaction isn’t to talk his way out of something- he’ll just do it if the opportunity presents itself.

I obviously take huge issue with Yamcha’s portrayal of being a womanizer- his major goal was to settle down, get married, and live out the rest of his life with someone. So for him to be portrayed as having to juggle girlfriends is a bit strange to say the least. You could maybe argue that Yamcha hypes himself up to be a lady’s man as a way to cope with his anxiety (fake it til you make it y’know) but I have little faith in the characterization in Dragon Ball games and for them to think that complexly- plus, again, it contradicts with his humble and awkward personality.

Aside from these two notes, that’s all I have to say. so I’m done- forreal this time.

[missjosie27]

Control

Hey, guys!

So I’ve been working on a trade with my good pal @aleksia-aries-hogwartsmystery​ aka @thereluctantherosrose. She’s an amazing person and she drew a little gift for me this past week.

Here is my gift in return! A little fic featuring her MC, Barnaby, and plenty of angst xD

Aleksia Aries was not one who usually let life get her down. The beginning of the school year brought many challenges- the feud between the Haywood sisters, Merula’s increased anger (if such a thing were possible for the Slytherin girl) and desire for revenge, Charlie’s distance, not to mention a brand new curse that petrified people dead in their tracks. No, after years of experience in breaking the Cursed Vaults and the constant back and forth that usually occurred in her friend group, she could handle most things as long as she kept her nose to the grindstone and kept an upbeat attitude. At 5′3 with a curvaceous figure and pretty features, her personality and strength more than made up for lack of size.

Indeed, very few things could put the Gryffindor sixth year into a state. Which is what made breakfast all the more troubling. 

It started out normally enough. Though Aleksia and Rowan were girls they usually liked to sit among the boys at breakfast as it provided a great deal of entertainment. Today proved to be no different as Ben was studying defensive curses fervently while sipping his proclaimed newfound love for black coffee. Jae was idly playing with his porridge while counting his inventory stock for the day.

“How’s business today?” Aleksia grinned at him as she sat down at the table.

“Oh you know, the usual,” came the vague reply, not uncharacteristic for the Asian boy. “Just crunching the numbers.”

“You know, if you cared the same way about your marks as you do with your smuggling perhaps you’d have received more than just four O.W.L.’s last year.”

“My future lies outside the realm of academic achievement.”

He gave a wink and went back to counting his numbers when the sound of wings flapping caused the table to look up.

“Ah, the morning post is here,” Rowan said with satisfaction. Evidently, Ben was unaware of this fact as he whipped his wand as though a threat were bearing down on him from above.

“Relax, Ben,” Rowan said with a raised eyebrow. “There’s no one trying to kill Aleksia at the present moment.”

“You never know that,” came the stern reply, so characteristic of the ‘new Ben’.

“Pretty sure you need to ease up on the coffee there mate,” Charlie laughed. “Stuff has you jumpier than a bowtruckle. Ah...yes thank you mum.”

He caught a parcel from Errol, the Weasley Family owl, which was evidently some sort of fudge that the illustrious Mrs. Weasley had baked. 

“One can never be too prepared,” Ben said, burying his head back in the book. 

Aleksia rolled her eyes at her so called ‘protector’. Her long time friend’s insistence on shadowing her everywhere she went was irritating to say the least. The once timid, shy boy had seemingly forgotten that it was she that frequently protected him not to mention having faced monumental danger time and time again in breaking the curses. How quickly one forgot. Even so, she still considered him a friend and let most of his intrusive proclamations go. 

All of a sudden, a letter dropped in front of her which was rather unexpected. She had written to her mother two days ago and wasn’t due for a reply for another day at least. She then saw that the handwriting on the front was not that of her mum but of her father.

Her stomach dropped like an anchor in the sea as she reluctantly took the letter and stroked her snowy owl, Pepper, allowing her to drink from her goblet. Willing herself not to tremble, she lid open the envelope and withdrew its contents. What she read was possibly the most frightening thing she could have imagined. 

Daughter, 

I am writing this to you in relation to your coming of age. Though our interactions are sparse I am still your father and therefore I play a role in your future whether you care to acknowledge that fact or not. 

You are sixteen years of age and approaching the age of adulthood in our world. Therefore, it is high time that you look towards the most important aspect of the society in which we live: furthering the family line. I have reached out to several families of noble stock and many have expressed interest in a possible match. In particular Lady Equestria Rowle has a son your age and has arranged for you two to meet in order to get better acquainted. The marriage itself will occur shortly afterwards.

Do NOT attempt to defy me, daughter. It is the destiny of every pure blood witch and wizard to keep the line free from the rotten influences unworthy to wield magic. In order to ensure your compliance, I am sending your cousin Henry to fetch you and I expect that you will not give him trouble.

Regards,

Your Father

Aleksia felt her body go numb as she stared out into space, a concoction of rage and disbelief surging through her. How...how could he do this to her? William Aries was a hard, stern, prejudiced man and had injured her and her mother multiple times over. But never before had this sort of control been attempted on her person. Before, he was a distant figure, hard to ignore to be sure, but far away enough in mind to live life without much interference.

That time was seemingly over. And the proof of her father’s seriousness was in her cousin. Henry was just as abusive, if not more so than William and there was no doubt Durmstrang had strengthened his love for all things dark and cruel. 

Fear was unbecoming of a Gryffindor, but even the bravest carried fears. For Aleksia, it was the shadows of her father’s family. 

Suddenly feeling extremely nauseous, she rose from the table and left abruptly. 

“I have to go.”

She barely registered the looks on her friend’s faces as she stormed out of the Great Hall, nor the concerned expression on a large, Slytherin male who’s eyes followed her path. She didn’t even notice when she accidentally passed through one of the ghosts while searching for one of the private closets that Hogwarts seemed to specialize in having. The shivers the imprint of an undead person could impart paled in comparison to fear of being forced to marry a person her father deemed suitable for her.

In the darkness, tears fell silently onto the ground.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aleksia remained subdued for the entirety of the day. Her friends noticed but no one commented, at least not at first. Even her longtime rival, Merula seemed a bit perturbed that their usual banter was absent during potions class. But it was who Penny looked especially worried, especially when the duck face Tonks made at her failed to elicit a chuckle. She cornered her after Herbology.

“Aleksia, is everything, okay?”

Forcing a smile, the young Gryffindor tried to put on a convincing face.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, Penny. I’m just a bit distracted today. No big deal.”

The blonde remained unconvinced, however.

“I’ve known you for six years. And there’s not a day I can remember where you didn’t at least say hi to me in Herbology. There’s something up, I know it.”

“She’s right you know,” Rowan cut in, her arms clutching books but with the same worry etched on her features. “I haven’t seen you this upset since your first year. And if it’s anything to with-”

“It’s not Jacob,” Aleksia blurted out and there was no denying the sincerity in her tone.

Rowan swallowed. The two being best friends, there was only one thing that could instill such fear and loathing that she knew of.

“You don’t mean…”

“That’s exactly who I mean!” the young female Gryffindor couldn’t help but reveal. “My father is hell bent on marrying me off to some bloody tosser that I don’t even know against my will and I have no say in it whatsoever!”

The outburst was sudden but not expected as Rowan gave a fearful gasp and Penny’s eyes widened.

“Aleksia, I thought you and your father were estranged. You told me you barely talked.”

The black haired girl sighed angrily.

“You’re right. But he still has his ways of making his presence known. He still sends letters and has threatened more than once to pull me out of Hogwarts if I didn’t comply with what he wanted. Thankfully mum and Dumbledore have prevented that from happening but it’s different this time.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s sending my cousin Henry after me.”

Rowan’s face became quite ashen. As the resident best friend of the Hogwarts curse breaker she knew quite well the stories of her infamous cousin and his penchant for cruelty. 

“We’ll think of something. Let’s come up with a plan. There’s no way we’re going to let your dad or cousin do this to you.”

“It’s essentially kidnapping,” Penny agreed. “And I’m with Rowan. We can prevent this from happening and we will.”

A small smile returned to Aleksia’s pretty features but the anxiety in her eyes did not abate. Contrary to her usual social butterfly personality, this was 

“Thanks, guys. But I need to think this over alone for a while. I’ll come back upstairs to the common room and meet you there, okay Rowan?”

Both girls could sense she needed private time and nodded their heads respectfully. Penny gave her a big hug in the meantime, reminding her that if she needed anything to not hesitate. For her part, Aleksia made her way over to the courtyard to gather her thoughts.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The weather, though chilly, was also sunny, a rarity for Scotland this time of year and it allowed Aleksia to try and calm her nerves as her mood teeter tottered from angry to one of immense fear. Though she had told Rowan and a few others about Henry, no one besides her could know what he was truly capable of. Horrid flashbacks surged through her mind as painful memories of being kicked, bit, slapped, and knocked down overwhelmed her senses. Aleksia was the brave and bold Gryffindor that never backed down from anything but if there were two people in this world that could instill fear in her heart and one of them was on the way.

There was a second aspect to this that remained unspoken. Though not mentioned specifically in the letter from her father, the implication and the name ‘Equestria Rowle’ rang enough of a bell. She was married to Thorfinn Rowle, a suspected Death Eater that was never formally charged with any crime, but the Gryffindor teen was well acquainted with that circle and the fact they had a son in her year, Mortimer. Aleksia didn’t interact with him much but Barnaby’s eyes often darkened when his name came up, something not easily achieved with the happy go lucky Slytherin.

Aleksia sat down and smoothed her skirt on the edge of the fountain, mentally slapping herself. How could she have forgotten Barnaby in all of this? He was also familiar with that life given his own parents were Death Eaters. Would he know of a solution? Was he not owed an explanation? She hadn’t spoken a word to him all day and he was probably concerned maybe even hurt because of it. But it also wasn’t a coincidence that Mortimer was giving her sly looks in potions and that only added to the tension.

Burying her head temporarily in her hands, she was at a loss at how to figure this out. What was she to do? How was she supposed to tell her current boyfriend? Given that her father was still technically a legal guardian, could Dumbledore step in as he had before?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar tone, one that simultaneously brought fear and rage in her heart.

“My, my you’re predictable,” spoke the smarmy, sarcastic voice of her cousin. “Finding you was easier than I expected.”

Standing across from her, was a tall teenage boy with slightly tousled blond hair, blue eyes, and a permanent smirk plastered across his features. He wore a dark trench coat and leather boots alongside a holster that contained his wand. Though his face was alight with energy, it was not the positive kind as his cold, sea eyes glinted with a maliciousness Aleksia was all too familiar with. 

“What...why...how are you here so quickly?” she demanded, rising from the edge of the fountain.

“It was a simple matter of asking the headmaster for a favor,” Henry shrugged lazily. “Your father knows him, you see, and they share certain values. Values that are also prized at Durmstrang.” He turned his head and looked up at Gryffindor Tower. “A shame that such traits aren’t shared at Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts is a better place with one less bigot inside its walls,” Aleksia shot back. 

He turned back towards his cousin and gave another smirk.

“Simple retort from a simple, naive girl. Hogwarts couldn’t teach you proper wizarding pride so now, your father will. You had best take a good, long glance at this place, dear cousin. Because you won’t be coming back any time soon.” 

“You can tell ‘father’ to stick it up his arse. I’m not going anywhere, least of all into an arranged marriage.”

This did not deter Henry in the slightest. Though his hand was placed on the holster, he made no move to take out his wand and began moving towards Aleksia with the same cruel smile still on his face.

“You don’t want to fight me, dear cousin. The fact of the matter is uncle wants this done quickly and I have little time to get into a war of words with you. And given past circumstances, I think you’ll remember how this usually goes.”

Aleksia didn’t have to ask what that comment meant. As children, Henry delighted in torturing her and causing fights, which he usually won. 

“Come with me without delay and without fuss, Aleksia,” he told her, stopping three feet in front of her. “And I promise I won’t hurt you...much.”

It was not a threat, it was a promise. One that the blond fully intended to carry out. Being only 5’3 there was no way to outrun him. Her back against the metaphorical wall, there were only two realistic choices for Aleksia and surrendering to her sadistic cousin was out of the question. Therefore, she took a cue from Mad Eye Moody. Quick as a flash, she drew her wand and threw a blasting hex that caught Henry off guard, sending him crashing back twenty feet and onto his back.

He was up quickly, the smirk no longer there, replaced by a vicious snarl.

“So you choose the hard way,” he spoke with quiet rage. “That’s fine, I’ve been looking for an excuse to try out a few new spells anyway. Who better than my favorite punching bag?”

A half insane look appeared in his sea blue eyes as he yelled out.

“Debilito!” 

A white jet of light struck Aleksia in the leg and immediately the area became so weak, it became difficult to stand.

“Neat little trick I picked up at school,” Henry boasted. “Can rob your opponent of most of their stamina and strength. It’ll make this that much easier.”

“You never know when to shut up do you?” the Gryffindor shot back. “Petrificus Totalus!”

The purple spell missed and just as quickly Henry was summoning another curse, this time a sickly, orange color and silent. Aleksia didn’t even want to know what it was. Henry always had an affinity for the Dark Arts and clearly Durmstrang furthered that interest and ambition. Nevertheless, she was able to roll out of the way despite the weakness in her leg and fire off a response.

“Stuepfy!”

Henry blocked it and rushed forward.

“Obtusiore Nouacula!”

“Protego!”

The deadly curse held the force of a hot, blunt knife, throwing Aleksia backwards. She briefly saw a streak of purple flame and it cut into her side but avoided the large majority of its damage. However, she barely had time to recover as Henry kept sending spell after spell against her shield.

“You know,” he called out to her. “It really is pitiful you became the black sheep of the family. A noble line of wizards sullied by your association with blood traitors, mudbloods, and all the rest of the scum that plagues our world. Your affinity for them has made you weak...and uncle won’t stand for it a second longer.”

She tried to ignore his taunts and focus on Mad Eye’s training of constant vigilance and always maintaining a proper stance. She tried to focus on what Barnaby had taught her about mixing her spell arsenal and not becoming too predictable. Even so, she couldn’t resist lashing out against the person who made her life hell during their youth.

“Fuck you! I don’t need your approval for who I am and what I believe nor do I have to look down on other people to feel good about myself. If that’s what it takes to be a part of the ‘family’...” 

She reinforced her shield while digging into her stance

“...then I was never part of it in the first place. You don’t have the power to make me do anything, especially marrying that ghastly Slytherin.”

“Oh, but I can,” Henry grinned evilly. “Because now I do have that happy power. Consider this an early wedding present, and my personal swansong to you, Aleksia!”

He pointed his wand directly at her forehead and shouted out ‘Imperio!”

The spell shattered her shield into a million pieces and hit its target without fail. Immediately, a gentleness washed over Aleksia’s mind, feeling as though she were drifting on a fluffy, cloud of some sort, all cares washed away.

Come with me, a familiar voice spoke to her from somewhere far away, its tone delightful and reasonable. You’re going to be married and further our family’s heritage. This is the life of every pure-blood worth their magic. It will be the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

She didn’t bother to try and argue, merely nodding in reply.

Now let us go back to England. Your father awaits us. He is eagerly awaiting your arrival

Aleksia’s body began to follow the order but her mind suddenly began to fight back, knowing full well what awaited her if she followed the direction.

No

Yes, cousin. You must. Come with me.

She fought harder this time as the gentle, fluffy feeling began to evaporate.

I said no 

You don’t have a choice

I won’t do it

You will do it. Take my hand now or else

“I said...I WON’T GO!!” Aleksia screamed. Suddenly, the curse was gone and she raised her wand at the unsuspecting Henry.

“Meteolo!” she bellowed.

Just like that a violent hail and snow storm began pelting Henry relentlessly, a powerful wind throwing him like a rag doll into the air and back onto the cold, hard ground. But Aleksia didn’t stop there, she levitated his body into the air and slammed it against the wall with a sickening crack. 

Running towards her tormentor, the Gryffindor teen only saw red as she began to relentlessly kick and punch every square inch of her cousin’s body, barely registering his broken nose or his bleeding forehead. 

It was for every fight…

Every tormentous incident…

All of the damage and suffering she had endured under his hand.

The descent into raw fury and revenge knew no bounds as her fists became runaway trains with no end in sight to their carnage. They may not have stopped at all until once again, intervention saved Aleksia from a worse outcome.

Strong but soft hands lifted her up and away from Henry’s body. The scent of fresh laundry and sandalwood filled the nostrils.

“Aleksia don’t,” came the deep, gentle tone of Barnaby Lee.

Red vision was replaced by reality as her heart rate began to slow and her proper senses returned. She stopped struggling.

“Barnaby?”

“I know you pain you’re feeling and I know it feels good. But you’re better than that. He’s not worth it.”

Only the gentle words of her equally gentle yet equally as powerful boyfriend could assuage the raw emotion that ran through her. Her conscience agreed with him, however a strong part of her wanted to continue the assault.

“I-he…” she sputtered. “Do you have any idea who he is? What he’s done?!”

“Yes,” came the answer. “And that’s exactly why you have to stop what you’re doing. You don’t want to become the thing you’re fighting against.”

Slowly he set Aleksia down but he did not let her go, instead forcing her to witness the damage she had wrought on her cousin. Henry’s face was bloody and bruised, with one eye already swelling shut. Coughing heavily, he stood up but staggered as he did so, breaking into another wicked smile.

“So this is the famous Barnaby Lee my cousin adores so much?” he slurred. “I’m disappointed. Someone of your stock should know a blood traitor when they see one.”

The burly Slytherin’s eyes darkened, but he did not reach for his wand.

“Leave,” he said quietly. “Leave or I’ll break you in half.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Henry was not a small man but he was no match in physical strength compared to Barnaby and he was certainly in no shape to take on a second powerful opponent in a duel. Slowly, the blond slinked away.

“This isn’t over,” he said, spitting blood on the ground and then he hurried off and out of sight.

After a few moments of silence, both teenagers let off silent sighs. Barnaby had still not let go of his girlfriend, but the truth is she didn’t want to. 

“How’d you know I was here?” she asked softly.

“Penny told me you were alone in the courtyard. I was wondering what was bothering you all day and for a while I was worried I did something wrong….”

He looked back over to the spot where Henry last stood.

“...but I had no idea it was that bad.”

“You-you couldn’t have known it’s not your fault,” Aleksia told him as she turned and buried herself into his chest. “I-I’m sorry I lost control I just…”

“I get it,” Barnaby told her kindly. “You know I do. I may not be the smartest bloke around, but I know enough that you’re too kind and caring to behave like him. I don’t want that to happen. For you to turn into…”

He trailed off and she understood immediately. They both did. Two survivors of immense trauma that lived daily with the repercussions of such injuries trying to move forward in the best way they could. As the son of a father who also attempted to control him, the sixth year Slytherin carried an empathy unmatched by anyone. 

“Promise me,” Barnaby almost begged of her.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Aleksia replied, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Just promise me as well.”

“We’ll never be like them,” came the choked reply.

In the fading afternoon, the young couple simply cried together knowing that eventually they would both be okay…

And what it would take to get there. 

[xianmudelaozu]

*; OOC » SO I was rewatching the animation with my best friend while staying at her place bc my electricity was down and because I hate leaving things unfinished and also bc I was maybe trying to refresh my memory a bit for oc development reasons I continued watching where we left off.......

AND I COULDNT HELP BUT PULL OUT MY CALCULATOR AGAIN! Join me on Age/Timeline calculator road! (or skip to the bottom to read what I have come up with)

So, referencing this post of mine, we are safe to assume “it’s Year 25 when the Yiling Patriarch died. He’s been dead for 13 years which makes it the Year 38.” Easy as that. Basic Math, am I right? Cool, moving on.

Now, what I know is, that JC and WWX were about 15 when studying at Gusu, right? The study was supposed to last a year (it did for JC, but WWX got kicked out) which means JC was 16 when he returned from Gusu. At a certain flashback we hear Madam Yu’s voice claiming the boys are 16 and 17, and knowing WWX is older, it’s safe to assume it was after JC returned to Lotus Pier from Gusu. 

Then, the Archery contest, thing... stuff you know Discussion Conference happened shortly after, followed by Wen Chao feeling humiliated and the Wen Clan destroying several clans, including the burning of Gusu’s Cloud Recess and the uhm.... recruitment of the other Clan’s students and them having to turn in their swords yadda yadda.

It is save to assume there wasn’t too much time in between those happening, let it be a month maybe, but JC and WW were still 16/17 respectively. So, they get pushed around by Wen Chao, find the turtle, rest 3 days, kill the turtle, recover 7 days (?) all in the same year. We also know WWX was younger than 20 as commented by JC that he killed such a wild beast before reaching adulthood (Age 20)

Madam Yu and JFM get into a fight. JFM leaves assumed for several days, (since Yanli is there when WWX wakes up but is stated to ‘have left 2 days ago’ the night the Wen’s attack). Lotus Pier fell in a single night, meaning that was a quick defeat.

It takes Lan Xichen several months (as stated by his uncle at his return to Gusu) to gather the clans for their cause.  I guess it’s save to assume (since MXTX is like fuck timelines) That there possibly is a span of two or three months between attack on Gusu and the attack on Lotus Pier given the above statement.

WWX and JC wander for a few days before returning to Lotus Pier, where they stay for 5 days until Wen Chao’s returns. It is not stated how long it takes them to get to Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, but I’m assuming a few weeks. It is then that WWX gets attacked and thrown into the Burial Mounds.

I say, this might have all spiraled down in the span of a year, give or take a few months.

Fast forward to Sunshot Campaign starts. It is said their first attempt to take the Nightless City was unsuccessful which is why they split up and started smaller territorial battles. Now, War aint done in just a few weeks, so I guess it took a while. H O W E V E R, when Wen Chao attacks Chongyang he taunts JC and LWJ by saying he threw WWX into Burial Mounds a few days ago, so maybe it’s only been a week or two since the Sunshot Campaign started. Or Wen Chao is just a prick yknow. 

EDIT 1: I forgot, the Sunshot Campaign is said to have been taken 10 days, or rather that the Clans fought the Wen for 10 days in total, so I guess that fixes that. If we say Wen Chao threw WWX into the mountain “a few days ago”, however long that was, WWX joined somewhere in the middle of those 10 days.

EDIT 2: Season 2 literally starts with the Nightless City being stormed in Year 23 and it is said to have lasted several weeks and ends with the Fall of Wen Rouhan.

WWX joining JC back when returning to Lotus Pier. The animation flashes ‘back’ to current times after his awakening titled “16 years later” --- he died 13 years ago. So he’s been acting as the Yiling Patriarch for 3 years before he died. that is safe to assume. Also fits with Sizhui being 3 years old when he was found by LWJ after WWX died.

What else we know is that Jing Ling is 15 (edit: at the end of the story! in the beginning he’s 14, close to 15 I believe) and Sizhui is 16. which means there is a roughly 2 year gap between the bloodbath of Nightless City and the Siege of Burial Mounts where WWX died in Year 25.

EDIT 3: It is questionable if the Sunshot Campaign really lasted about a year, but we have two different time stamps. One, with the Animation showing us Wei Wuxian being thrown into Burial Mounds and rejoining JC and JYL in Lotus Pier being 16 years before his resurrection, and another with S2 opening saying The Nightless City/Wen Rouhan fell in the year 23 in a battle that lasted several weeks. 

Then again, we are told the Clans fought the Wen for 10 days which is just confusing the fuck out of me not gonna lie. How I understand it, the 10 Days/Several weeks are probably referencing the same period of time and refer to ONLY the battle of the Nightless City where Wen Rouhan fell and not the whole Sunshot Campaign. That would definitely make more sense anyway. 

So we have Year 22 with the start and year 23 with the end of the Sunshot Campaign, leaving 2 more years until WWX’s death. We know the Lanling Jin Sect enslaved the remaining Wen in the same year. (S2, EP15 mentions those events to be 15 years ago. 38-15=23). Notable things WWX did in those two years are, resurrecting Wen Ning, taking in the remnants of the Wen, punching Jiang Cheng in the face leaving the Yungmeng Jiang Sect, awakening Wen Ning’s consciousness.

The Animation notes that “the issue” at Qiongqi Path took place “one year later”. Since Jin Ling was born in November and WWX was on his way to the one month birthday anniversary, I think it is just referring to “the next year” and not directly a year later, unless of course you take into consideration Jin Ling was still 14 at the beginning of the story (which I assumed was just bc he has a late birthday in November) but he might actually been born in Year 24! Tho the evidence suggests it is at the end of Year 24 (specifically December since JL was born in November and aged 1 month) that WWX and Wen Ning are on their way to the 1-Month-Banquet and WWX loses control and kills JZX..

Edit 4: It’s later referred to again that ‘the person [that cast the curse on JZX1] has reappeared after 14 years”, so it is save to say Jin Ling was born in November of Year 24 and his father died a month later in December. Since WWX died in the Year 25 it is safe to assume, with everything taking place at the end of Year 24, he died very early in the Year 25, most likely still in January. That is, however, like most of the rambling I put in here, purely speculation and assumptions. Tho I do believe it is closer to being accurate than my first half assed attempted at trying to figure out the timeline.

That concludes the timeline/years of Mo Dao Zu Shi so far as I can tell up to the beginning of the story!

Regarding the matter of Xue Yang and XXC, I have the following theorie which is mostly just speculation and assumptions! Feel free to hash it out more or get inspired by it if you will.

NHS mentions that about 11 years prior (of the current year) the trouble at the stone castles began, which was shortly after he was appointed sect leader because Nie Mingjue died. That leads to assume NMJ died in the year 26 or 27. 

Xue Yang was imprisoned after WWX died and NMJ was still alive, so around year 25-26 (if we assume WWX died very early in January year 25 as mentioned above). Xue Yang was released AFTER NMJ died, probably in the same year (26-27) and then went on to get his revenge on Baixue Temple before returning to Lanling Jin Sect. 

He helped JGY to plot JGS's death and once that succeeded, he was captured and abused before released/escaping prison. Then, XXC and AQing found him. If we assume, this all happened until Year 27. 

During Year 27, he probably recovered from his injuries. We do not know how many years Xue Yang stayed with XXC, but it was at least 2 because he mentioned going night hunting with XXC 'two years ago', but given the fact his injuries needed to heal for several months I personally think he spend a year recovering and then started night hunting with XXC and stayed for the aforementioned two years = a total of 3 years

That would make it Year 30 - 8 years prior to WWX's resurrection - when he is found out and fights XXC and collects his shattered soul, as well as killing A-Qing

SO the only year we are explicitly given is the Year 25 when the Yiling Patriarch died and Year 23 when the Sunshot Campaign ended/Wen Rouhan died. Going from there, this is all speculations of timelines/ages unless we know the year/gap we’re given

* the happenings concerning Xue Yang, Song Lan, Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing are PURELY speculation on my part!

YEAR 20 - JC and WWX study at Gusu 

(JC Age 15, WWX Age 16)

YEAR 21 - JC returns from his 1 year trip to Gusu 

(JC: 16/ WWX: 17)

LATE YEAR 21 - EARLY YEAR 22 - Archery Competition/Discussion Conference in the Nightless City. Destruction of Cloud Recess, abduction of the Students by the Wen, death of the turtle. 

(JC about 17, WWX 18)

(- 16 years) YEAR 22 - Start of the Sunshot Campaign. WWX becomes the Yiling Patriarch/Develops Demonic Cultivation 

(JC: 17, WWX: 18) // Sizhui is born (just for reference) My heart bleeds imagining JC was just sweet 17 hot damn

(-15 years) YEAR 23 - END of the Sunshot Campaign / Death of Wen Rouhan (confirmed in S2 EP1 of the Animation), Death of Wen Ning/Resurrection as the Ghost General (S2 EP5) | JYL & JZX get married

( -14 years) LATE YEAR 24 - Jin Ling is born in November, about a month later, JZX dies on Qingqi Path / Wen Qing & Wen Ning’s execution and Bloodbath of Nightless City / JYL dies.  

(JC: 18/19, WWX: 19/20) 

Beginning of YEAR 25 - Siege of the Burial Mounds - WWX dies 

(JC: 20, WWX: 21 (deceased) | Jin Ling: 1, Sizhui: 3)

YEAR 25-26 - Massacre of Yueyang Chang Sect / Imprisonment of Xue Yang one month later -  Nie Mingjue insulting Jin Guangyao

(Speculated Age for Xiao Xingchen 17-18, Song Lan: 17-18, Xue Yang: 15-16)

YEAR 26-27 - Trouble in Nie Sect Stone Castles / Speculated death of Nie Mingjue / Release of Xue Yang / Baixue Temple Masacre /  Assumed Death of Jin Guangshan / JGY abusing XY / XY escaping prison / XXC and A-Qing finding XY in the streets

(JC: 22, WWX: Deceased | Jin Ling: 3, Sizhui: 5)

(Speculated Age for Xiao Xingchen 18, Song Lan: 18, Xue Yang: 15-16)

YEAR 28 - Xue Yang and XXC start night hunting together

YEAR 30 - Song Lan confronts Xue Yang, dies / XXC confronts Xue Yang, dies / Xue Yang kills A-Qing / Xue Yang spends 8 years trying to piece XXC’s shattered soul back together

(Speculated Age for Xiao Xingchen 22/23, Song Lan: 22/23, Xue Yang: 20)

(+13 years) YEAR 38 - WWX gets resurrected 

(JC: 33 / WWX techincally 34 | JL: 14/15, LSZ: 16)

(Speculated Age for Xiao Xingchen 30/31, Song Lan: 30/31, Xue Yang: 28)