#and they passed a lot of the plots of characters onto their drama only character

[dengswei]

as a reader of the manhwa literally WHAT is going on in sweet home now 😭

[sage-nebula]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how the sequel trilogy (I'm not calling it "the Apollo Justice trilogy" because it's not) is a mess, and how I would go about fixing it if I had a time machine, leadership power at Capcom, and free rein to do whatever I wanted while there. And while I do plan on replaying the sequel trilogy in the future, and no doubt will get more ideas then, here are my preliminary thoughts for now:

— Phoenix should NOT have become playable again. I understand reinstating his badge because disbarring him was a very low blow (and we're not going to talk about the writing surrounding none of his friends being there for him because woof), but making him playable so that he stole the spotlight was a HUGE mistake, not to mention completely undermined the mastermind he was supposed to be now. He should have just had his own cases going on in the background, while Apollo did his own as the player character. That would have been far better.

— Athena should have been saved for a new trilogy, where she would be the sole player lawyer. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Athena. But it's because I love her that I'm suggesting this. I hate how Capcom treats her as a forgettable assistant who didn't get a full case of her own in SoJ and is usually replaced by Blackquill on the merch. I don't think that would happen if she was the star of her own trilogy of games. And it could help us untangle some of the mess, too.

— So for the Apollo trilogy, the first game (AJAA) could stay pretty much the same. Keep that as is.

Then for the second game . . . I have the fewest ideas here, except I think we should keep the part of DD with Apollo's time at the orphanage and Clay's murder. And in fact, we could even have Athena CAMEO here as the defendant (since Apollo suspecting her doesn't have the impact without their established bond), only to disappear after the case and then come back two games later as the newest lawyer and protagonist. I think that would be pretty cool! However, we do need to save Blackquill, Metis, and the space center for Athena's trilogy, so Clay should be employed somewhere else with a different dream. (Sorry Clay.)

Since we're saving Blackquill, I'm not sure who the prosecutor for game two could be. Unless we wanted to do something where Clay was the prosecutor for most of the game, but then he gets murdered in the last case, so Klavier has to come back (a la Edgeworth) to prosecute his murder in his place.

Trucy would remain Apollo's assistant, and more Gramarye backstory should be sprinkled into this game. Also, Phoenix should pass the magatama onto Trucy in this game (and specifically Trucy since she's his adopted daughter) so that we can get ready for Kristoph in game three.

Also pt 2, Ema remains the detective.

The third game is the one I have more ideas about. This is the one where all of the Gramarye mysteries get wrapped up, Apollo and Trucy's parentage is revealed, and Kristoph's black psyche locks get broken. How, I'm not exactly sure! But this game should be a showstopper banger with the first two games leading up to it. We had the start of the plot in AJAA and then things went off the rails.

You'll notice that I'm cutting all of the Khura'in stuff out, and there's a reason for that. I think it makes Apollo's backstory way too convoluted to give him an entire second family in a foreign country (where he was raised until he was shipped off to be an orphan) when he has a mysterious family right here in the Gramaryes to contend with. Plus, we know Athena WAS out of the country for most of her adolescence after her mother's murder; it makes far more sense to reassign the Khura'in stuff to her.

So! None of that for Apollo.

Instead, he deals with Gramaryes and Gavins; the weight of generational and familial drama and trauma; of shady mentors; and figuring out a.) what the truth is, b.) what his method for finding it will be, and c.) what kind of lawyer he'll ultimately be. More of a Kristoph, or a Phoenix, or neither?

And for that reason, I think the prosecutor of the final game in the Apollo Justice trilogy should be Eustace Winner!

Firstly, because I think the Apollo vs Eustace dynamic would be hysterical. But also because Eustace would be 26 by the time this took place, and so will have grown a lot as a person and a prosecutor. And he dealt and struggled with a lot of the same issues Apollo will grapple with. I think he'd be the best fit as a prosecutor for Apollo to bounce off in that final case—he could offer insight that perhaps others couldn't.

Trucy is still the assistant, and I didn't mention this before, but since Phoenix gave the magatama to her I think we should switch to playing as her during psyche-lock sessions. So yes, I think SHE should be the one to break Kristoph's. First Phoenix fucked Kristoph over, now his daughter makes him face his trauma. It's only (w)right 😌

Ema is still the detective, but she mentions at the end of the game that she's getting ready to retake the forensics exam.

And that's what I've got for Apollo's trilogy! I have to go do something now, so I'll come back in a bit with my thoughts for Athena's.

[picklethanos]

I haven't finished watching Tua s4 compleatly but I have watched up untill Ep 3 for now. But I have opinions.

Ep 1

So the team lost their powers and are now living normal lives. Great, love the plot. But those lives are barely explored.

Lila and Diego are married and have 3 kids. Both are overworked parent trying to hold onto what they can. But a lot of the reletionship progression and dynamics is basically a "Tell don't show". Haven't seen any of the kids, Lila's parents are alive and have a strained relationship with Diego (we also never see them), Diego dialogs about all their problems in the relationship... (I also got spoiled of the ending of the relationship: 🤮)

Allison got her daughter and husband (Ray) back, Claire barely forms part of the the story in any meaningful way, Ray left (just cos...). No one in the family is too happy with her (for all that happened last season) but there's no actual hostile feelings (which would have been a cool angle), just light akwarness.

Viktor is the owner of a pub/bar (cute), has slept around with every woman in town and wants nothing to do with the family, tho still holds a grudge with Reginald. Gets kidnaped after vik dares him to and procedes to not even try to defend himself like he implied he would (ok?).

Five works undercover for the Cia investigating the keepers. He's just gotten less interesting honestly. Like, in every season he was dreading having to save the timeline once again (especially s3) but in this one he goes out of his way, willingly.

Claus is great, but what does he do? Unemployed? I do love the situation he is in during the episode. Sober for 3 years, mortal, and paranoid about it. (got spoiled again, I know the writers fuck him up)

Ben went to prison cos of crypto? (That's funny actually I give it a pass). Still hates the umbrella academy, makes sense. But, did we not have Ben in Korea at the end of s3? Is that referenced in later episodes? I bet not.

Luther's a stripper and genuinely the only sourse of light in the season, I would however love to see more mentions of Sloane throughout the season (there's 1 in ep2)

The dry cleaner plot was kinda wierd, kidnaped Viktor to get the whole family in one place at the same time but... They were already all in one place at the same time... And he was "watching them" so he should know... Whatever

Its not a BAD episode, it groups them up, sets stuff up and gives them a case.

It has however changed my opinion of the characters in comparison to other seasons, most have dropped out of pure characterization. It just seems out of character, idk if it's a popular opinion...

I believe the writers are mostly going for drama, but the petty kinda surface level "we gotta wrap this up at the end of the season" drama.

We'll see...

I'll write Ep 2 later

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

CHLOE BOURGEOIS (MIRACULOUS LADYBUG) (CW: Child Abuse)

1.) Girl was done so dirty… She was starting to develop and could've had a redemption arc and then they made her even more one-dimensional than she was at the start, dumbed her down, and the creator on twitter claimed she was never abused and that she never cared about her childhood friend, only his status. And in a scene that thankfully got cut by editors, her father was going to disown her, adopt her sister instead (who is like a "nicer" replacement for her) and pass Chloe onto her abusive mother.

And then a male character gets introduced who is also at first an antagonist with a backstory that gets revealed later, also a childhood friend of the same character, but it's acknowledged that he got abused by his parent and he gets a redemption arc and a romantic subplot and a spot on the hero team (which Chloe was excluded from because she was irresponsible with her power and revealed her identity publicly… Except he also did that)

This show is about girl power btw.

2.) Chloe was done so fucking dirty. So basically, the creator of the show (Thomas Astruc) created the character in the first place as a stand-in for his childhood bully (red flag no.1) Because of this, any development that she as a character got from the other writers (and it was a lot) got retconned, just because he hated her. Other, objectively much more evil, (male) characters (the main villain!) were portrayed as more sympathetic than her, because god forbid a hurt, abused, emotionally immature, unloved little girl be portrayed as anything other than an unlovable, unforgiveable unchangeable demon. Also she's obsessed with clothes, shoes and handbags, because she's a mean girl, don't you see, so obviously the nice girls (who don't wear makeup while Chloe does) are better than her.

3.) Stuck up spoiled rich girl is treated as worse than the actual villains of the show. At some point we get a glimpse into her awful traumatizing home life and she starts to be redeemed, but the second something doesn't go her way she backslides and is suddenly even more evil and dumb. Also her father is incredibly neglectful but it's portrayed as her somehow abusing him into doing what she wants and he's so sad about his awful evil daughter. He gets a redemption arc but never actually becomes a better father. She's seen as unfixable.

MILLA MAXWELL (TALES OF XILLIA) (CW: Inappropriate Age Gaps)

1.) Milla was the first female MC in a Tales game. Xillia actually has dual protagonists; Milla is a female demigod on a mission to stop global warming, while the other one, Jude, is a male med student who gets dragged into her quest. The game says that you can play as Jude or Milla… except it’s extremely obvious you are meant to play Jude’s route, and play it first. Why? Because Milla dies at the end of act 2. The plot continues in Jude’s route. If you’re on Milla’s route, you do not get to see it. Instead, you wander around heaven for a while until you’re booted back into the world of the living as a deus ex machina. It is impossible to follow. Milla doesn’t get to reckon with her own death, while her friends all get to reckon with it offscreen. All of this character drama is conveyed to her through two skippable conversations. Playing this was completely infuriating, not to mention confusing. Even in her own route she’s written as the cool, mysterious hyper-competent woman.

I have a lot of issues with the plot of this game (it’s bad!) but that’s the bitterest.

2.) 1.) If you decide to play Milla’s route, and not Jude’s route, there is a part of the game where Milla has her spine broken by the villain, and you are forced to play as Jude anyway. Her paralysis is resolved with little fanfare (the important part of this life-altering injury was Jude fighting to defend her honour, of course).

2.) (CW: inappropriate age gaps) Milla is 20, but she’s teased as a ship with the other PC Jude, who is 15 (despite being a university student? I have no idea why they did this; most Tales protagonists are 17-21). You might say “hey wait, it would be extremely inappropriate for her to be interested in him, as he is a teenager and she is an adult!” Well, first of all, it never actually seems like she is interested in him, like at all. This plot is solely about the fantasy of having a hot older woman attracted to you, presented for the presumed male audience, presumed to be playing as Jude. If you’re playing as Milla it is a totally bizarre informed plot that comes out of nowhere. Also, I guess to get around any objections to the age gap, the game pulls a “born sexy yesterday” type dynamic with Milla, where she might be a 20-year-old demigod but really she knows nothing about human society and Jude the prodigy has to teach her. Everything about this is extremely terrible from every angle—I don’t think the writers even thought of “teenage boy shipped with adult woman” as much of a problem because of the genders. And from Milla’s end the relationship is totally incomprehensible. They didn’t think about why she would be interested in Jude, because what’s important is that Jude has women who are interested in him (she’s one of 3+).

In the sequel, there’s an alternate universe version of Milla whose love interest is the PC of that game, a guy the same age as her. I was so relieved! They actually “are both adults” and “have anything in common”! Unfortunately this hint of a relationship ends when the alternate Milla is sent to super hell (not only dead but her soul erased from existence) for contrived plot reasons. We are supposed to be okay with this, because she believes she deserves to die. Why? Because her actions in this universe apparently indirectly caused Jude’s death as a baby. Even though she barely knows Jude, he is, of course, the most important person in the universe, and so the only moral option is for her to die by suicide. ARGH.

Again, I can’t emphasize this enough: she was presented as the groundbreaking first female PC of a Tales game. And we were let down SO BAD.

3.) Since you’re looking for propaganda, Milla Maxwell. Very skimpy outfit. Their justification? She has a handmaid that designed and created her clothes. But the handmaid is a 16 year old boy who’s in love with her. And she has no idea about human society, so she’s just like. Ivar put in so much effort, I’ve been assured this is fashionable. She spends a 2 hour section of the game in another plane of existence, in a skin tight white body suit with cut outs at the boobs and inner thighs

In the sequel, her outfit is almost as bad, but this time she chose it and they don’t even discuss it 🙃

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

would u tell me a bit about some svsss thoughts, au‘s ideas or wips of yours?(<- half way through a 9 hour train/bus journey & really bored) please?🥺

i could tell u about my tgirl-sqq/sy au that i’m never gonna write, cuz i genuinely don’t enjoy writing? or maybe show u a picture of my sisters newborn (cutest baby u have ever seen)

omg PLEASE tell me ur thoughts on tgirl sqq I love trans sqq (any direction but esp transfem it's so special to me)

let'sss see, I have a lot of wip and au thoughts at the moment as I nervously procrastinate several important projects 😅

I had a cold earlier this week so I wrote half of a fluffy fic inflicting my cold onto SQQ:

“Liu-shidi is out at the moment,” Shen Qingqiu said, an awful rasp to his voice that Luo Binghe hated.  “Surely Shizun can call him back?” Luo Binghe pleaded.  “For what?” Shen Qingqiu asked, waving a sleeve. “A small cold? This master has managed worse. He’ll return when he returns, and until then it's not so bad.”  “But Shizun–” Luo Binghe tried to object, but Shen Qingqiu gave him a stern look that caused Luo Binghe to fold at once. He redoubled his efforts of looking sad and concerned and despondent as a quick countermeasure, and Shen Qingqiu sighed.  “It’s not so bad,” he repeated. “This master can still perform his duties just fine. Most likely it will pass before Liu Qingge even returns.”

outside of that, i have been on a major qijiu brainrot kick (i have a 8k fic for them i should be posting as soon as i decide if it needs a stronger dose of sqq or not + decide how to end it (sob)), and also reading a ton of disciple days/canon timeline bingqiu and having big feelings about how much i love them. ive also been returning to my unhorny women and gender studies liu qingge omegaverse fic that i am always contemplating but never actually writing, in which liu qingge is a not-like-other-girls omega in PIDW omegaverse and tries to marry shen qingqiu due to fantasy comp het

besides that, here are some concepts ive jotted down in my notes app this week loll:

dragon!YQY hoarding peak lords

this is literally all i have written down for this but i want it to be something SO BAD. save me dragon yqy. dragon yqy save me

Yue Qingyuan is cursed into an endless sleep The other peak lords call on Shen Qingqiu to enter his mind and wake him up as the person closest to him, only... SQQ actually barely knows this guy! He and Binghe take a dream journey through YQY's subconscious and eventually find that SJ is haunting him and eating his power which is keeping him asleep. They must either banish him ORRR.... Sun and Moon Dew mushroom time

i dont think ill write this so if anyone else does....... please take this idea and run w it haha

Sy transmigrated into the little palace Mistress??? Ahhh...

i THINK this came after reading stiltonbasket's SY!QWY fic, because i was thinking about the old palace master being a huge creep and shen yuan dealing with that from inside huan hua palace. i really see shen yuan going on a journey of gender discovery (his own gender AND the perils of misogyny that he never understood as a cis internet man(he thought he was cis at least)) and political intrigue as he tries to get to the heart of whats wrong with huan hua while dodging and or attempting to track down luo binghe. plot??? idk her

Deaf Shang qinghua!! Mbj doesnt notice

someday i must write this bc i love writing my favs as deaf or hoh. id love to explore shang qinghua as being both physically and culturally Deaf and how that plays into his interactions with the world post-transmigration, where there is even less accommodations or access for someone with a disability and he is cut off from his community, especially in terms of his work on an ding and relationship with his martial siblings. mbj not noticing a major facet of his life feels in character and like great drama lol, and i think the conclusion is definitely mbj learning ZGS that teaches him and he ends up liking using it way more than speaking verbally, both for sqh's ease and because he doesnt like to talk lol

i hope this is what u meant hahaha i could talk abt wips and svsss ideas all day. they are living in my head rent free 24/7 ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ i hope your trip goes by smoothly and quickly!!

[nagisadelune]

Headcanon: Artem Falling in Love With You (Part 1)

(Definitely not edited)

I'M BACK TEARS OF THEMIS FANS! I know that I've been gone for months, but being busy is a clear characteristic of going through depression getting through life. Either way, I'm back to writing for at least a bit.

Okay, I originally had something written for this part before until I found this post which literally has a discussion in the comments about the stuff that was going through my head when I originally thought about this. If you don't want to read the discussion, allow me to sum it up to you: Artem only briefly mentions how he first falls in love with you when you're performing a drama in university, but it seems out of character.

Because of this discussion, I thought that maybe I should write something about how Artem falls in love with you. Because of the amount of time I'm planning to pass with this story, there will be a lot of skipping, so please bear with me. Let's get started!

For the context of the story, we are (obviously) going to be in a time frame before the game even starts, so let's assume that we start around 2026 and move towards 2030.

⭐⭐⭐

"Bro, hurry up! We're going to be late if we don't go now!" a man yells into the apartment building. Artem can only sigh as he adjusts the sneakers on his feet, waiting for the last housemate to leave the house. He can't understand why and how he got dragged into this, but he is now waiting to go to the school drama production in the theater with the rest of the house.

"I get it, I get it!" the last roommate answers annoyed, seemingly out of breath from rushing to get outside. "I know you're going to support your girlfriend, but why are you dragging us into this? Especially our study bug Artem?" Artem looks over at the roommate slightly annoyed, considering that he was interrupted in the middle of a lecture video.

"She asked me to take you guys with me because you deserve a break after working so hard for our masters," he answers annoyed, his eyes glued to his phone and his fingers typing away at the screen. The group locks the door before walking onto campus in the cool night.

After picking up a bouquet from a nearby florist, the group hurries over to the theater, getting ready to sit through a couple hours of performance. They settle into their seats, and the lights dim soon after. A huffy Artem looks towards the stage, deciding to give the performance half of his attention considering the situation. The velvet curtain raises, and for a second, the hard-working student's eyes are glued to the stage, specifically one girl.

Throughout the production, the other two boys take glances at Artem, entertained by the fact that the usually aloof man has eyes on someone rather than his study materials. While the two snicker off to the side, Artem's eyes watches the girl on the stage, noticing the little details about her. The soft cast of the light on her eyes and hair makes everything about her sparkle, and her facial features remind him of an angel.

After a nudge, one of them whispers into his ear, "Which one do you have your eye on?" In an instant, Artem turns towards the pair annoyed before lightly smacking them with the physical program in his hands. With his eyes finally breaking away from the stage, he decides to look through the cast to figure out who has captured his attention so easily. In an instant, he recognizes the face in the program and stares at it, seemingly engraving her face into his mind.

The lights come on with the end of the production, and the three men stand up from their seats to walk out of the theater. The conversations about what they just watched start, discussing everything from the plot to the costume design choices. Artem, whose mind still lingers on the girl on stage, falls behind the pair, making the two turn confused towards him. They both approach him, but he doesn't give them any attention.

"Yo, Artem. What's going on?" his single roommate asks him, throwing his arm around his shoulders. This snaps Artem out of his thoughts for a second, making his cheeks somewhat red from the content of his thoughts.

"I just thought that one of the actresses in the play was pretty," Artem's helpless voice answers in a mutter. The two boys stare at him for a moment before turning towards each other in amazement; their usually stoic roommate has his eyes on a girl instead of his studies. As they walk towards the backrooms of the theater, the two tease him on his feelings, but Artem pushes them down; there's no way that he just fell in love with her like that.

~~~

His slender fingers leafs through the stack of resumes in his hands with a sigh, briefly noting the various candidates for the open positions at the company. Despite just being a mere employee, Celestine is already handing him a large amount of work, but he knows that he is actually greatly helping her. When he gets to a certain resume, the world seems to stop, his eyes landing on the picture.

"No way," Artem mutters under his breath in disbelief. He separates the resume from the stack and tries to process what he is currently seeing: the pretty girl smiling in the picture seems familiar, but he can't exactly remember from where. His mind tries to think of where the face might be familiar: possibly seeing her when she was turning in her resume or maybe spotting her in the restaurant nearby. There's no way though; all the people from his years in school have mostly moved away or pursued a different career path than him. His thoughts start to wander, focusing on the way her hair curls over her shoulder and how striking her green eyes are.

"Artem, is everything okay? I want to discuss something with you," a familiar voice requests from behind the door following a knock. "Are you free?" Artem's head whips up from the picture on the resume, realizing that he must have stared for too long at the photo to hear her knocks.

"I'm okay, Celestine. I'm free too," Artem answers, slightly flustered by the situation. He quickly pulls the resume on his desk back into the stack next to him as the door creaks open, revealing Celestine.

"Why are you so red?" Celestine suddenly asks, stopping in her tracks when she notices the flush on his cheeks. The aloof and somewhat calm Artem now appears somewhat confused, a stark difference from what Celestine is used to.

"I-It's nothing," Artem answers, slightly stumbling on his words. Celestine continues to stare at him in amazement as the Artem sitting at his desk is definitely flustered by something. Despite her interest, she decides to push it to the side, focusing on what she originally wanted to talk about.

Celestine takes a seat in front of him before she asks her shocking question, "Which one caught your eye?" Artem stares at her, trying to piece together how she figured it out. "You don't think I couldn't hear the paper moving?" He can only put his head down in disappointment with himself, forgetting such a small mistake. Because of this, he can only pull the resume out from the top of the pile and hand it to Celestine. While his head hangs in shame, Celestine stares at her picture before handing it back to him.

"Are you interested because she attended your alma mater?" Celestine questions, probing the situation. His new expressions sparks interest, and she stares at him, ready for his response.

"Y-Yeah, you could say that," Artem stutters out, avoiding eye contact with her. This response causes the eyebrows on Celestine's face to raise, suspicions about the situation coming to the surface of her thoughts. "Anyways," Artem starts after clearing his throat, "what was it you wanted to talk about with me?" With a sigh, Celestine can't help but give in to the sudden change in topics despite her interest. However, the situation never leaves her mind.

~~~

"She's so much prettier up close."

Artem watches the girl walk into the office, greeting everyone as it's her first day. His eyes train on her figure as she shakes hands with each person in the office. After seeing her from so far away years ago, he finally gets to see her up close for the first time; she still looks the same from back then, her hair only slightly longer than before. Her eyes seem to shine more brightly than before, her sweet smile growing to her eyes.

In the midst of this, Artem doesn't process that she is about to introduce herself to him, but he finally snaps back to reality when he sees her in front of him. In his mind, time almost stops as she introduces herself and holds her hand out for a handshake. Artem gently grabs her hand and shakes it, giving her a warm smile.

"Welcome to Themis. I'm Artem Wing," he greets, a warm smile on his face. She watches her smiley face turn to shock, seemingly processing something as she shakes her hand.

"Did you happen to study at Stellis University under Professor Hume?" she asks, her mind putting pieces of information together. Artem's mind seems to draw blank as he tries to figure out the situation. How would she know who he is even though they have never officially met?

"Y-yes, I am," he stutters, still overcoming the shock of the situation.

"I never thought I would ever meet you. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Wing," she greets him kindly as they shake hands. She awkwardly clears her throat before repeating her statement, "I-It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wing."

Artem finally returns to his normal self and responds back, "Again, welcome to Themis Law Firm." Although this is the first time Artem ever met her, the warmth of her hand lingers on his, the skin slightly tingly from the contact.

As the group finally breaks apart to get back to work, Artem quickly returns to his office before settling in his chair and taking a breather. He never expected to encounter her at his work nor for her to recognize him. While he begins to calm down, he sees all of his coworkers help her settle in and interacting with her. For a moment, his eyes linger on her before he turns back to his work, and his mind wanders to how life has been for her. He finally turns away from her and sighs.

For now, this is enough.

⭐⭐⭐

Dang, I realize writing this and watching some of other card stories that Artem is such a simp, but we love it. We love a man that can actually express his feelings.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading it. I feel like I want to write more about what happens up until the point of the game, so I will see you in the next one! See you guys soon!

[unpopularly-opinionated]

I’ve been watching How to Get Away With Murder lately and let me just say I’ve had several topics that this fucking show has made me want to blog about that I just don’t wanna spam y’all with so let me bullet point this for you:

Warning: Long AF post about complete nonsense.

1. I never finished Scandal (another series by Shonda Rhimes) but I sure did watch a shit ton of it and I used to genuinely think it was a great show at the time. Haven’t seen it in a while so I’m not sure how exactly I’d feel now, but if watching HTGAWM has shown me anything it’s that god does this woman suck at writing characters. She’s pretty good at writing serialized legal/political dramas, I’ll give her that, but she legitimately only has like maybe 4-5 character archetypes that she just copied and pasted from Scandal onto this show, and boy do the flaws show in this series.

You’ve got the strong, black female lead whose job it is to basically fix problems, ethically or unethically, she pretends to care but doesn’t really.

You’ve got the sociopathic do-it-all guy who does all the unethical dirty work including breaking and entering, kidnapping, killing, destroying evidence, planting evidence, etc. with a troubled past of being in prison.

You’ve got the incredibly basic girl who starts off all shy and cute like she’s an innocent little sunflower, who then falls in love with the sociopathic do-it-all guy which inevitably leads her down a similar road of corruption.

You’ve even got the soft-spoken, ‘dreamy’ white man that the lead has the hots for (as well as the mentally-damaged white girl).

There’s probably more, but honestly that’s all I can remember from Scandal at this point. It’s actually kind of insane to me how it’s literally just the same exact characters just transplanted to a different plot. I don’t know much about her personally, but she strikes me as someone who would probably make bank writing romance novels or Y/N fanfic.

2. Binge watching shows has ruined pacing of older shows, such as HTGAWM, because without that weeklong break in the middle (sometimes longer for holidays) you overlook details because you don’t have time to process them properly, and oftentimes plot points that require time passing (such as relationships, breakups, etc.) can fail completely because it’s not really believable when a couple is together one episode, breaks up to be w/ someone else the next, says “I love you” the next, and is pregnant in the next (yes, this is something that actually happened in HTGAWM).

3. Just in general, the writing for this show really begins to plummet after just S1, but mostly S2. I’ll give them credit where credit is due, a lot of shows that begin with this ‘hook’-like idea--in this case murder and how to get away with it--tend to fail miserably by wrapping up that initial hook in the first season and then winging it every season after that. This show surprisingly doesn’t do that, and every season begins with a new murder that they then have to “get away with” (almost comically-so).

But as I said, this woman doesn’t seem to know how to write characters, at least not likeable or consistent ones. It sometimes feels like I’m watching reality TV or something because a lot of the conflict between characters is incredibly forced. I’m halfway through S4 and despite the fact that these people love to profess how much they love each other, they’re a family, etc. in nearly every episode you’ve got someone “not trusting” someone else, someone keeping secrets “just because”, or someone yelling at someone else for something because it’s “all their fault” when like none of that is ever actually true.

Oliver and Conner broke up because Oliver felt like the relationship wasn’t healthy because, even after he lied to Conner about something really fucking important, Conner instantly forgave him, which yeah sure that absolutely sucks and is a totally valid reason to break up with someone, albeit a sad one because obviously you two still love each other...except in the next fucking episode, Conner is hooking up w/ strangers and Oliver is genuinely considering jumping into another relationship, and also Oliver is changing his story and claiming the reason he broke up w/ Conner was actually Conner’s fault because of like trust issues or something which just isn’t true at all?? It was a wild retcon that came out of nowhere for no other reason other than I guess she needed them to sleep w/ other people that season.

Also I’m sorry but how is Michaela supposed to be even a remotely redeemable character when she’s written to be this huge uptight, racist, homophobic (or possibly biphobic), bitch? I don’t think she ever gets better. Right from the get go in S1, she has this whole ordeal over her fiancé having had one gay experience many years ago when he was younger, and like okay I would understand it if it was just about the fact that he didn’t tell her about it, but she continued to spiral out over it, accusing any man even in the vicinity of him as being his secret lover, and continues to badmouth him as “gay” (I can’t write tone here, but she says it in a very accusing way) to the others including Conner who is literally gay. There’s also never really a refutation to this either, so by the time Aiden is completely out of the picture, I guess we’re left to just assume he is actually gay, despite all possible evidence pointing to the contrary. But I guess all of this is A-OK because she becomes GBFs w/ Conner later for...some reason, I guess.

Then there’s the way she treats Asher which, in the beginning I was like okay fair, he’s the douchey frat boy character. Totally understandable why you’d treat him like an asshole. But when they hook up and eventually get together, she is so unbelievably racist towards him??? She’s constantly going on about “white boy” this and “white people” that, and the poor dude just takes it because he’s super whipped.

The way she also talks about other black people is even off, like if she wasn’t black (and Shonda Rhimes wasn’t black) I would daresay it comes across as fetishistic. In fact, a lot of this show is written like fetish porn of black people. God help if this was written by a white woman which ironically enough, it really does feel like this was written by a white woman. I’m not even joking, if I didn’t already know who Shonda Rhimes was, I would swear to you this show was written by a white woman who really loves black people, to an uncomfortable degree. I’m not even talking about cringy “black empowerment” either, that’s not what bothers me. It’s one thing to promote strong black (female) characters in a show which you know it’s fine I guess, whatever, but this show fetishizes that instead. Black people aren’t just strong and powerful, they’re the strongest and the most powerful. It’s creepy and weird.

At this point, the only reason I’m watching it is because I like Viola Davis and despite her character being iffy at times, she’s still a tremendous actress. And ofc I like Colliver, even though it’s messy a lot of the time. I know I just sat here and shat on the show a bunch, and to be clear it’s definitely not a show I would ever recommend, but it’s not strictly-speaking terrible. It just has a lot of bad moments/elements to it.

[wordsknowsnobounds]

I remember, although now not if the freshness of when I actually started in the fandom, but I still remember the dissonance I felt as I had just finished the book and dived into the fanfic and found so much hate and misunderstanding over characters I found so easy to understand their motivations.

I can't say some of my views were later tainted by fandom, the longer I dived into fanfic before I found myself into a Discord group where I could find people that knew more than I did about Danmei and Xianxia. MDZS wasn't my first experience with both, considering I have watched some movies and other dramas before, and my first MXTX book was TGCF, but I hardly knew enough. So entering the Discord group was like a breath of fresh air in terms of knowledge and learning more about a culture and small details we miss as an outsider audience.

I even re-examined what I knew about the characters, and learned more about others I didn't care as much I still have some I don't care even after, but I did learn more about them and found some respect for them, and I guess that my dissonance with fandom at large grew even more. But then I remember my experience in another fandom - Teen Wolf - that it's just as full as its own complicated relationship between fandom and canon, and something someone I met in it said stuck with me, "People have limited empathy to give characters, and they bestow it onto their favorite characters" or something in similar words, and this couldn't be any less true.

People are more inclined to analyze, or overanalyze, a character they care more, they give that character more leniency or more reasons for the way they act if they identify with the character more. However, the problem starts when the analysis becomes something personal instead of steaming from the character written in the text, and the fact MDZS has so many versions that bring with them their varied canons makes it even more complex.

Because we have the novel with flawed, but three-dimensional characters that have a variation of reasons and motivations for the actions they did, and even in it some are afforded more slack than others. We have a TV Drama that had to pass through a censorship in both content and ideals, they couldn't have a hero that lost control or wasn't as pure as some wished him to be - and taking WWX blame of the ones he was guilty of took a lot of him as a character - and threw all the guilt on another one took a lot of the narrative that the world isn't as simple or black and white. We have the donghua that added some little more flair to certain circumstances and gave a more villainous plot for something that was a good change in the novel, and completely butchered another character. Not only that, but we also have an Audio Book version and a Manhua, but since I haven't either heard one or read the other, I can't say much about them.

All these different canons end up leading to different interpretations, but also leads to misunderstandings and people talking in different "languages", since The Untamed and the Donghua have crucial differences in relation to the Novel. Another thing that adds into the dissonance I have with fandom at large, it's also the whole problem I see of the interpretations that disregard cultural and historical differences. Yes, MDZS happens in a fantasy ancient China, but they still have a different set of morals and beliefs that differ from what we consider as the norm today.

I've seen too much fics of characters raising a fuss about things they never did and would never do in the context they lived and because of who they were and believed in, because they weren't considered amoral or wrong in context. Although, MDZS discussion shouldn't be about morality at all or who has the higher ground to claim it. Or who is right and who is wrong, because that's not the story, that's not what we should have taken of it, because the beauty of MDZS it's because it tells a story of very much human characters, with human motivations, human fails and human emotions.

It feels frustrating to muddle through fics and metas that you read, and your first reaction is: no, that's not it, that's not 'character x'. It feels disheartening that if you try to disagree with something or have something to say about a character or that the majority of fandom have a specific opinion you're either said to be an anti or an apologist. It's rare to find spaces and places where you can have good discussions without someone attacking you for one reason or another. So working that dissonance becomes an even more difficult task when you feel you can't speak because of fear of being targeted.

But I guess that I got tired, and just wanted my frustrations to get out and about on the outside world, so here I am. I'm putting my face out there, I might get burned, but I think I needed to try.

-The Sole Nie out.

[pendinghope]

A list of shows where I question my decision for watching them. They’re not bad just got some concerning plot lines. If you enjoy them good for you, if not that’s cool too. I’ll just write what they’re about and you can decide for yourself.

Paint with love. The concept seemed interesting. A company president obsessed with profit needs to hire an artist for a job. Due to unforeseen circumstances they’re now stuck together in business. And then… the plot worsens. Interesting start but then the subplots and misunderstandings kinda drag the story down. There are some side couples in the show as well. There’s this one subplot that just… once it’s revealed you’ll be like oh… ohhhhhhh.. oh no… why?! Just why?! And then once one of the characters knows about it they still misunderstand?! Why!?! What’s the point? At the most dramatic part of this plot it does get resolved within an episode and a half. And then it comes back? After being resolved? Leading to my confusion and concern. And then one of the characters just acts super rude to this other character for no apparent reason. Leading to more unnecessary drama. The main romance also starts to feel off balance after a while. As one of the characters always apologizes but the other character never does. Which feels bad, like the other character gets a free pass for his actions. I don’t know how to feel about this show. The subplots are just getting ridiculous as well as the drama. We finally reach a good understanding and boom unnecessary conflict… I am still going to try to finish it and hold onto hope that it gets better.

My stand-in. Super toxic romance. Toxic workplace, mistreatment, etc. A lovely main character gets dealt a bad hand in life and love the first go around only to find himself in another body... with perhaps an even worse hand in life. The main character is nice and kind and has a handful of wonderful people surrounding him. But the more powerful ones are far more impactful, dangerous, and toxic. Poor guy. If you want the main character to be happy, good luck. It's gonna take him a while.

Love syndrome. I have no idea what this one's about. Stumbled upon an episode and was highly confused/concerned. From what I saw, super toxic and concerning behavior. However there does seem to be multiple seasons or parts of this show and I only saw one of them out of order. So who knows. Update: there’s a lot of different versions of this show. What I saw was called love syndrome the beginning, so my view of the show is from that specific episode. The other versions could be very different, I have no idea. I looked through it and realized I recognized some of the actors so imma try to see what it’s about. Uhh never mind. Reading up on it I don’t think this show is for me. Enjoy if you want, imma check out.

Update: I’ve started watching love syndrome 3. It’s been months since I wrote this and now I feel like trying it out. It is insanely toxic but it’s what I feel like watching right now so I am. Until I can handle the next episode of peaceful property at least. Have a wonderful day! (My thoughts while watching this show “Oh they’re adorable!… oh they’re toxic as hell! Oh look they’re adorable again!”) Not me just now realizing that not only do Unforgotten Night and Love Syndrome take place in the same universe, the main characters actively interact. Sometimes I just don’t notice things until a while later into a series.

Dance with the devils. A vampire anime... yes one of those vampire animes. However, it's a musical. So it's really enjoyable to watch in the sense of laughing at its goofiness and staring in horror at its... other scenes. Also the bestie should have totally gotten with the mc.

Ah that’s all I have time to ramble about at the moment. More to come later so have a wonderful day/night!

[alyssalikestoreadbooks]

Whistleblower - Kate Marchant

"Laurel Cates has never wanted the spotlight. As a junior studying journalism at Garland University, she's perfectly content pumping out well-written fluff pieces for the school paper and focusing on the finer things in life: friends, house parties, and carne asada tacos. But when Laurel’s research for an article on the school’s beloved football coach uncovers a pattern of misbehavior and a trail of lies, she knows she has to expose the truth.

Even if it means facing public scrutiny. Even if it means risking her part-time job, her reputation, and her safety. Even if Bodie St. James, the heart-of-gold quarterback, seems hell-bent on convincing her that the man who has been like a father to him couldn’t possibly be the villain she thinks he is.

When Laurel and Bodie team up to prove each other wrong, their tentative alliance becomes complicated by growing feelings and mounting evidence. And Laurel must choose between staying invisible or doing what’s right . . . even if it costs her more than she ever imagined."

Read Date - June 2024

Length - 320 pages

Genre - Romance, Sports Romance, Contemporary

Rating - 7/10

Stars - ★★★★☆

Notes - usual full disclosure, this was a library book I read. This is important because i have a hard time connecting with library books the same way i do owned ones. It’s like the world can’t encapsulate me properly because i know it’s only a temporary fix. despite this, the writing in this novel is EXTREMELY GOOD for what was created on Wattpad. I can’t believe I’m reading a Wattpad book. I can’t believe they publish books to begin with! I’m glad, obviously, it’s just all new to me! Onto the plot. I think the set up between the story of exposing the coach is played out well, and I like how it’s all run by students. I’ve written in a believable way and I can relate to these characters. I like the dynamic between Laurel and the football team, and the way the article causes turmoil within the school. The drama building is so deliciously well played out, and has a pit in my stomach as i read it, wanting more. The lead up of Bodie believing Laurel is really good, and i like the part where Laurel believes he’s just another rich snooty boy getting a passing free grade, but he isn’t, and he has his own struggles with school. I like how this is almost a mystery in a way, just slightly, with all the plot lines they go down. The coffee and car keying are such good plots to play around with and i like it a lot. Another thing i really like is the talk of culture vs ethnicity, and how important being a mixed woman is to Laurel’s story. The way their romance becomes this forbidden thing is SO interesting, and i love how it all played out. they handle topics of sexual assault and rape with such care as well, along with the subtle (but blatant) racism against Mexican and Spanish people individuals. The reoccurring theme of mentioning that she wants to be invisible, or isn’t invisible, is good work in my opinion. I liked the imagery a lot. I think this book was really good, and handled the topic of rape culture extremely well. When someone speaks out, rape culture tells people to side with the accused. To NOT believe the victim. This is played around with in the books in a way that doesn’t shame the victims and is “fixed” in a tasteful manner. 

[otherworldlygate]

I love your takes on Pronyma btw.

I always thought she was pretty cool (but sad/tragic, since her loyalty and affection was so severely misplaced). I like the concept that the demon pacts rewrote her mana signature; that’s cool. I assume then that you believe she pressured her subordinates to do this (or encouraged it?) since Kilia is one of those servants (and nothing else explains why she, uh, looks like that). Kilia obviously was following in her footsteps.

I also love the “she did it to ensure there was no competition even though there wasn’t really any competition in the first place” take because it just hones in on Pronyma’s insecurity and ambition in a very interesting and (dare I say it, realistic way).

As far as I’m concerned everything you said about Pronyma may as well be canon. (You’re the expert, after all. It’s in your url name! LOL)

--

That makes sense re: DotNW vs. Xillia/Xillia2. I’ve only played Phantasia for other Tales games (and then, that was more than 20 years on an emulator passed around on a floppy disk in school 😭) so I’m not familiar with the crimes of Xillia2, but I get what you mean! It sounds like for you personally, big plot issues are more frustrating than poor character material. I’m probably the opposite: I can generally rewrite plot stuff to force it to make sense, but bad character stuff is something I struggle with.

I was trying to think of why that is, exactly, (because just ignoring certain character reactions seems WAY easier than, you know, rewriting plot stuff) but I’ve had a lot of experiences in fandom where people in fandom latch onto any little thing a character does or says, and once it’s in the canon it’s considered canon by everyone. Having to argue with them about how it’s Not In Character, Actually has just been far more frustrating to me than editing the plot.

But it’s actually super cool that we approach things the opposite way! I feel like people who are really into plots are kind of rare, so that I’ve found someone like that feels like discovering something cool. Lol!

--

Yeah, the Pope has potential to feel really intriguing. He was totally on board half-elves being decent and then watched his daughter look 20 even though she’s supposedly quite a bit older than that. This extreme would be far more noticeable if the Pope was like, obviously in his 70s or something (which could make his daughter as old as 50s) but Kate is probably not older than 40 (since I can’t imagine the Pope is older than 60).

 --

I love this Alicia headcanon and I’m adopting it into my brain right now. It makes so much sense that she would say something extremely rude and cutting to Vharley and that he was jealous that Alicia very nearly became the equivalent of a duchess. Hell, at the very least she would have been a duke’s mistress and that’s a pretty spicy jump up the social ladder. I really liked Alicia in the drama CD. She’s kind and optimistic but she has this gentle thoughtfulness about her (and so much love for her family).

--

Interesting point about the Pope, too. Also, what’s with Kilia and Kate being able to do this shapeshifting stuff? That’s terrifying. Outside of DotNW, does anyone else in the base game do that?

It might actually be pretty sick if someone was pulling the strings behind the Pope. Someone who wasn’t Mithos or his bros, I mean.

--

Re: Regal and George. You’re right 😭 the bar isn’t very high, so George jumps right over. LOL. It might be cool to think that George and Regal’s father could be similar in age, and might have known one another as boys. That could have helped solidify that loyalty and explain why Regal’s father trusted George to the degree he did in the drama CD (trusting him to put pressure on voters and pay people off discreetly).

In this sense, George is much more than a butler of course, but I like that he has such an active role in things. I’m sure he knows a lot about the company, far more than Regal possibly could (if only due to those years of experience). I was going to say something about George retiring someday, but I can’t imagine he would ever want to.

Re: Raine, I don’t think Regal is impulsive (at least in any serious capacity) so I’m sure if he pursued a romantic relationship with someone like Raine, he’d be aware of the potential consequences. In this sense, I like the idea of George accepting things as they are even though he doesn’t like it. In the end he does have to pick his battles and some battles aren’t worth fighting.

Isn't it suspicious how Regal is effectively the wealthiest person in the world and yet he has no living family members?

His parents didn't have more children? No aunts/uncles/cousins? Nobody tried to take that company from him while he was in prison?

Yet the bloodline has been unbroken for over 800 years (and this is information Regal has been taught, so it's not like it's speculation)?! PLEASE.

That family is hiding something.

It could have something to do with extreme control of the family wealth. Things only get confusing and difficult when the family tree has too many branches on it. For example, a family property is fine until three siblings inherit it. And then the 12 grandchildren inherit it. And now 3/4 of them want to sell and 1/4 wants to keep it, but the 1/4 can't buy out the 3/4. It's easy to imagine that Regal's parents wanted only one (1) child to inherit.

But you're telling me that they didn't have more children? What if Regal had died young? What if he'd ended up sterile? You cannot tell me his deviously conniving and frankly evil father didn't ensure there were more children out there. It's just. I bet he died before he could tell Regal about them. I bet he has siblings out there he doesn't even know about who were raised out in the quiet country somewhere.

(Does George know? Would George tell him? Was George entrusted with these secrets?)

Speaking of George, what if he was actually just hoping Regal would stay in prison forever (or die there) so that the company could be his? I mean, he was running the place.

Hm.

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not so sure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

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

Oh, you loved this man. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

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

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

“I thought he was cool before.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

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

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

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s true. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I kinda do—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

epi-epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[the-writer1988]

Fic Recommendations: Tangled

Looking for an excellent fic to read? I have a list of my go-to fics for Tangled. I’ve been meaning to do this list for a while but it took me a while to get it all together. This list is in no particular order as I simply cannot pick a number 1 favourite but each author/story on this list deserves to be here because of how fantastic they are. 

So, without further ado... 

@youreputtingrootsinmydreamland KILLING ME SLOWLY is epic. It has such fantastic world-building, characters, plot... Angst, hurt/comfort, romance, action... It has everything I look for in a fic. And a villain you just want to hate. Not only has @youreputtingrootsinmydreamland written KMS, they have also authored other fics which I adore. Most notably the ‘Until We Freeze’ series, a series of one-shots exploring New Dreams physical and emotional intimacy and wow, can she write such brilliant M/E rated scenes. This author is one of the best adult writers that I’ve seen. https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeparecordofthewreckage/pseuds/keeparecordofthewreckage/works?fandom_id=190901

@kingreywrites Anything Kingrey writes. Eugene hurt/angst/comfort... you name it! I can’t name a single fic that I prefer over another. I recently re-read them all and I do not regret going back and spending my afternoon reading them. I love their characterisation, the drama, the angst, the hurt, the comfort... EVERYTHING. Kingrey is one of the best Tangled fic writers out there.  https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingrey/pseuds/Kingrey/works

@miranova23 They write very long chapters but they are worth the wait. So far, I’ve read two stories. Broken Dreams and Prison is a Marriage. I also intend to read Suitors of Rapunzel once the fic is completed but I can honestly say, again, the length of chapters, the characters, the situations are all written so far. Compelling dialogue, well-written scenes, the characters are spot on... Set aside a lot of time to read these fics because once you’ve started them, you will be glued to the screen and will not want to stop...  https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraNova23/pseuds/MiraNova23

@ladyfawkes She writes fics that shine but do not get much attention. This is a shame because this author has a lot of talent which should be shared. They’ve written a range of different Tangled stories, all in various stages of being written. There is a story set after Tangled detailing Rapunzel’s journey home; there is a fic about Eugene’s problems with snow; there is a post-series fic where Corona is at war with Equis and Rapunzel is Queen and has to face the prospect of losing Eugene... Desiderium is perhaps my favourite fic from this author. Originally begun by another author @trekkiehood and now passed onto @ladyfawkes this fic has everything. @ladyfawkes knows how to write, knows how to write angst and also tries to realistic show for what may be possible for the time period. She has a way with words which are unique and it draws me into their works and keeps me hooked.  https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFawkes/pseuds/LadyFawkes

The next two fic recs are by authors who I do not believe have a tumblr but they deserve recognition because these two fics are soooooooo brilliant! 

First up is Return To Me by ArcticPersephone. It is a rewrite of S3 but with one key difference: what if Varian was not placed in the same cell as Andrew? The Saporian take-over never happened, Frederic and Arianna never lost their memories... And it is the Red Rocks event which enables Varian to escape from prison. What follows is a rollercoaster of a ride. Varian has a key role but there is a lot of focus on other characters such as Rapunzel, Eugene and Cassandra. The whole dynamic of Season 3 has changed by the one change the author made. Character development is astounding, compelling OCs, great plot, pacing... Plus, hurt/comfort for all out favourite characters, romance for New Dream, angst, adventure... It has got it all. Even if you are not fond of Varian, I would definitely give this fic a try: I am so glad I did as I eagerly await updates every two weeks. https://archiveofourown.org/works/29860089/chapters/73476042

Second and finally, is a fic called Splitting Heirs by Eternal_Phanton and Providentially_Demonic. I was hesitant to give this fic a try at first. I had been looking for a really good fic set post series, set in the early years after Rapunzel and Eugene married. And, I decided to give this fic a try. It really surprised me. It is, I would say, Cassandra centric, but Eugene and Rapunzel are both stars in this and have equal opportunities to shine. Characterisation is fantastic, the plot is WOW, and the chapters are long. The concept of the story is what if Gothel stole another child? It’s revealed very early on that Cass is the twin sister of Eugene. This was an idea I wasn’t sure of in this fic but my goodness, the authors make it work. Cass is older than she thinks she is and it begins with her and Eugene coming to terms with the fact that they are related and were forced apart by Gothel. There are so many elements to this story that I cannot say much more for fear of spoiling further. This fic updates roughly once a month but the chapters are long and it is well worth the wait. Do not dismiss this fic. https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456757/chapters/59019964 

There are probably others I haven’t mentioned but I am still making my way through the archive but these are the fic/authors that have caught my attention and I’ve gone back and read their stories again and again and again...

[desidarling123]

FACT CHECK: Did JKR sue people for writing Wolfstar fanfiction? [FALSE] [with sources]

So, if you're at all active in the HP fandom, and ESPECIALLY if you're on TikTok, you've likely come across a post or video claiming the following:

JKR LITERALLY SUED PEOPLE OVER WOLFSTAR FANFICTION! AND THAT'S ALSO WHY SHE MADE REMADORA CANON -- TO SPITE THE SHIPPERS!

I'm not sure who first started this claim or how its various permutations grew, but it spread at the speed of light across social media. This widely-circulated meme summarizes it:

For the LONGEST time, I didn't know what to make of it. The claims were vague enough that they seemed like they could be true -- after all, JKR is a megacunt and a renowned TERF. You don't need to fact-check either of those things.

But then -- for the first time ever -- I came across a video on TikTok claiming that what was being said was NOT true, and that it was being used SPECIFICALLY to stir up drama. Which was... crazy, to say least.

And that led me, well, to do my own research & fact-check. I've taken the original video's structure and added some exposition as well.

So here's the truth:

That 2003 case the above meme refers to? Not even REMOTELY what the situation was about. Hell, not even CLOSE.

In 2003, JKR sent a cease-and-desist letter to an explicit adult HP fan fiction website, called "Restricted Section". Here's the letter:

As the above letter states, the site was sent a notice because of overarching concerns that minors would accidentally stumble onto the sexually explicit content the site hosted after searching up 'Harry Potter'.

The hand-wringing over minor safety probably seems dated now, but it was, in fact, standard practice in the early 2000s - sexually explicit fan content was being removed across the internet for those exact concerns. In fact, just the year before, in 2002, fanfiction.net was purged of NC-17 content (which would happen one more time, in 2012).

I feel ridiculous stating it, but just to be clear -- in the above letter and all my subsequent research, there's NO evidence she went after Wolfstar -- or any ship, for that matter -- directly.

In fact, the letter goes an extra mile to declare that "our clients (JKR) make no complaint about innocent fan fiction written by genuine Harry Potter fans", but that, "there is plainly a very real risk that impressionable children... will be directed... to your sexually explicit website".

But that leads in nicely to the next point -- the website DIDN'T shut down, as per the letter's request. Instead, they added password protection to ensure only members older than 17 were accessing it.

OK, but why did JKR and Warner Bros go after this site in the first place? Most believe it was because of a widely-publicized article in THE SCOTSMAN that talked about the website. But, once again, this article doesn't go after Wolfstar in particular -- it only goes after Harry x Draco and Harry x Snape. The inclusion of latter was arguably what generated the biggest controversy -- the pairing of Harry, a fictional minor, with an adult character, in slash stories largely written by adult heterosexual women, was not one that could be cast in a good light to the general public. It's hardly a surprise JKR's lawyers sought to do something before the controversy got out of hand and worried parents started to make calls.

What I said before still goes, though. The legal core of the issue was ALWAYS to do NOT with the ships, but the EXPLICIT NATURE of the work -- and the (very real) concerns that the series' then-mostly-under-18 readership could find said works with very little as far as guardrails were concerned. (I know, because I was one of those kids)

TLDR; JKR did NOT sue people over Wolfstar fanfiction, she sent a cease-and-desist notice to a website that was not taking adequate precautions to prevent minors from accessing the explicit adult content on the site.

To be clear -- this is not meant to be a statement on what to ENJOY in your fandom ships. You can ship Wolfstar, Remadora, both, neither -- it really doesn't matter. I think the fandom is critical enough of the author to have reclaimed her work on our own terms, and people should be allowed to just, idk enjoy things.

But propagating straight-up falsehoods is dangerous, especially when it comes at the expense of 1) a safe fandom environment (see: the current fandom ship wars between Remadora and Wolfstar, which are difficult to watch) and 2) serves as a distraction from the ACTUAL garbage JKR engages in (of which there is plenty -- no need to make it up lol).

Also, truth be told -- inter-fandom ship wars don't generally add anything productive to the necessary conversations that need to be had about her works. The thought that dashing fan ships was a key motivator in her writing rather than, I don't know, plot concerns, is ludicrous on face, and gives fans a level of control over the original writer that just... doesn't exist IRL? And certainly didn't back then?

And again -- the books would have been VERY different series, plot-wise, if Sirius Black HAD lived. Him being in a relationship with Remus, confirmed or implied, has no relation to that decision.

If we have talk Harry Potter, I'd rather talk about just about anything else -- the racism, the misogyny, the lack of any sort of organic queer rep and JKR's inability to just own up to the problems in her works. But the minutiae of ship wars -- and the inevitable stream of disinformation that comes with it, sans any kind of concrete evidence -- is one I'd prefer to pass on.

SOURCES:

Cease-and-Desist Letter Copy: http://archive.is/HTLsq

THE SCOTSMAN Article: http://archive.is/VdEaY

Restricted Section Updates Page:

https://web.archive.org/web/20030815233612/http://www.restrictedsection.org/news.php

BONUS: The original TikTok video I came across whose structure and sources I shamelessly stole to read and build out my argument. I copied a lot of their wording because it explained it better than I could, you just get some bonus snarky commentary from yours truly

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

After that gorgeous sequel rant, would you be willing to share your thoughts on reylo?

Ugh.

Once again, that is the most succinct, easiest, answer I can supply. But it's so short, and that just won't do.

I mentioned in a recent post that Dramione comes in a myriad of disguises. Every fandom usually has at least one Dramione ship, you can usually guess which characters the ship will consist of, and while you might not be able to articulate exactly what about it makes it so damn similar to Dramione you will recognize it on sight.

Usually, to me, a Dramione ship features a strong, independent, female lead who may be varying levels of sexually empowered, varying levels of intelligent (Hermione loves to tell us how smart she is but it's not the heart of the ship), is strong, courageous, and noble who depending on the story du jour might slide into depravity.  The real give away is her love interest, always a man, usually a young man of comparable age, who has the bad boy appeal that's not too bad boy where he often is redeemed to the good side for 'reasons' in the course of the story.

Reylo is such a Dramione pairing.

You don't believe me? Look at the authors who write it, I haven't done this too often myself, but I guarantee you that a not small majority of them will either write Draco/Hermione or will have it all over their favorites and bookmarks. It's the same damn pairing.

But worse.

Because Kylo-Ren and Rey aren't really characters.

"Whoa, hold up!", you say, "That's just slander and uncalled for!" Well, change my mind. Rey Palpatine and Kylo-Ren are a series of character tropes and archetypes thrown to us by Disney screaming "LOVE MY CHARACTERS".

Rey is our noble, very Luke like, hero who is a scrappy desert rat with overwhelming mystical powers only acknowledged when the movies feel like acknowledging them (guys, admit Rey kicked Kylo-Ren's ass every time they fought with 0 training, come on, it's not hard).

However, there is nothing underneath her surface. Her hero worship of the resistance feels dull and given to her because it's expected. Of course Rey likes the resistance! The resistance is great! Sign her up! Rey has been living in the desert at the edge of nowhere for presumably 15 years, I'm shocked she's even heard of the new republic let alone the resistance. Despite essentially starving and only having a home that's a broken down old fighter, Rey saves a random droid. We're not really given a compelling reason of why she would do this, that she has a deep respect for droids/is horrified by their use, really really really hates the random trader she sells things to, or really really really hates the empire (if she even realizes it's them behind the bounty). She does it just so that a) the plot keeps moving b) to show Rey is... noble... I guess?

Remember that even Luke (who I have some problems with as a character) started his journey with more backstory and personality than this. Luke loved the empire and desperately wanted to become a pilot. He was very put out that his aunt and uncle kept saying, "Uh, no, bad idea." Luke was ready to skip town and sign on up for flight academy, he just got distracted by pretty women, er, his sister.

So, Rey is never given a compelling reason to do any of the things she does in the series. Just vague feelings of hero worship. And, of course, the drama over her parents. Just... I feel like Disney took out a hat, put a bunch of pieces of paper with words on them, and drew out the one that said "orphan angst about parents" and said "See, now she's conflicted! What a character!"

So yeah, Rey is your cardboard generic hero who is so generic she's not even a person. She has no hopes, no dreams, no fears, just these vague things we're told as an audience she cares about but never shown in any legitimate manner. Rey likes the resistance and rando droids, Rey imprints on Han Solo as the father she never had, Rey has this thing about her parents, Rey is attracted to Kylo Ren.

And that last one, oh boy that last one. It sold me less on the attraction to Kylo Ren than... oh... I don't know... Palpatine's secret Sith planet of doom. I mean, we all saw it coming, The Last Jedi it was very clear where that was going and then Abrams went for it even harder. But what we had was a series of skype conversations where Rey went from "Gr, you killed my pseudo father!" and Kylo-Ren responding, "Yeah, well he was my real father AND HE WAS SO MEAN" to "Oh Ben, I will fly to you through space and we shall save the galaxy together!"

I am given no reason to believe Rey's change of heart. Han Solo's death just suddenly... doesn't really mean much to her anymore (the man was murdered by his son in cold blood so that his son could feel better about himself). She believes Ben Solo is good now because Luke is a dick (never mind that, no matter what a dick Luke is, Ben Solo still murdered dozens of children and then went on to gleefully massacre his way through the galaxy). We're told there's a Force Dyad, which is um... not this thing the writer's made up because they were too lazy to convince me that Kylo-Ren and Rey would end up together in any organic way.

So, yeah, why does Rey like Kylo-Ren? Because the Force told her too? Because it was somehow all Snoke's fault in a way that's never properly described? (Indeed despite us spending quite a bit of time on Kylo-Ren's decision to remain Kylo-Ren being a very internalized thing) Because we saw him shirtless in yoga pants this one time?

It's bad when that last is actually the most legitimate reason I can think of out of the whole lot.

Now let's go to Kylo-Ren. If Rey is boring and nonsensical then Kylo-Ren is a dumpster fire and non-sensical. The guy reminds me a lot of Commodus from the film "Gladiator", the man is cowardly, vile, and murders his father in despair that his father never will be capable of loving him/passes him over for the throne. Kylo-Ren's murder of Han Solo is extremely similar to the murder of Marcus Aurelius in "Gladiator". Han Solo is a flawed father, trying to make his peace with his son, who approaches him unarmed and Kylo-Ren decides to murder him in order to solidify his place in the dark side.

Only, the films never acknowledge that every action Kylo-Ren takes is horrifying.

We're told "oh, Kylo-Ren exists because evil Snoke corrupted him" but also shown repeatedly that Kylo-Ren chooses the darkest path again and again and again. He "struggles with the light" but I don't see it. His opening scene, he has massacred a village and is torturing a man for information (this is presumably a daily routine for him). In the same film he later tortures Rey for information. He serves on a Death Star which wipes out billions in an instant. He murders his father to feel good about himself. He dresses as a man who was reviled and feared throughout the galaxy, a man who murdered countless children, and a man who dressed the way he did because he was barely hanging onto life, because Kylo-Ren thinks it makes him look like a badass. Think about it, this is like if a fully abled Kylo-Ren is wheeling around in a wheel chair, perfectly capable of walking, because he thinks that Professor X is so cool. Now, replace Professor X with Hitler, this is what the movies gave us.

Yet, the films seem to take it for granted that Kylo-Ren is a redeemable character. He's just lost and misguided, he's really struggling with the light and dark side! They don't just tell us this over and over again (which they do) but also just assume we know it.

And base the entire Reylo pairing off of it. Reylo believed Kylo-Ren could be redeemed, they battle Snoke together, then Kylo-Ren stabs her in the back and continues the assault on the Resistance and asks her to be his Dark Queen (TM). Reylo is shocked and appalled, I'm just wondering what movie she thought she was watching, because that was coming a mile away.

Later, when Kylo-Ren is redeemed, we're never given a reason why it happens. Leia just gives him a nagging, one word, phone call and then Han Solo shows up to go, "Ben, are you going to do the right thing?" and Ben goes, "Mumble, grumble, fine" because there's only an hour left in the last film.

Kylo-Ren, like Rey, is the writers' desperate attempt to create a compelling anti-hero with all the anti-hero sauce we love. They just won't admit they made an overgrown genocidal toddler.

Wow, this turned into why I hate both Rey and Kylo Ren, but, uh, back to the ship. Basically, the films give me 0 reason to ever believe it, and even if I wanted to, even if I said "Alright brain, let's make these characters real people for once", I still wouldn't like it. Because the ship itself is just as flat as the characters. It's spicy but not too spicy bad boy gets together with strong female lead.

I know a lot of people enjoy this, and I won't say it's any less legitimate than any of the weirdness I ship, but I'm not one of them. And the whole thing just makes me go "ugh".

[ladyoftheblackpaint]

Dad-for-One Theory Breakdown

So now that the big man is out and on the loose, I was reading about this theory, and honestly it’s pretty interesting.

All For One being Izuku’s father.

Other people could probably write better analyses of the theory itself than me, but from what I understand these are some main arguments to support this being a possibility:

Firstly, let’s talk about AFO’s appearance.

He’s shown with white hair in the anime when he was younger, as does his younger brother. His eyes are constantly shadowed even before his face got jacked up by All Might.

So genetically speaking, here are the traits that constitute Izuku and his parental figures:

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have freckles

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have green hair (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have curly hair

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have green eyes (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have his eye shape (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have his skin tone (check)

The thing with genetics, though, is that they’re weird things and parents are not always the sole givers of traits.

As we can see, from the parts of All For One’s face that is visible, he doesn’t have curly hair OR freckles, which is sort of a big kick in the gut for this theory.

Irregardless, I do have to say that theory, though, does have a point with the fact that his eyes are hidden. Most of Izuku’s traits seem to come from his mother, and the fact that two of his most telling traits (his curly hair and his freckles) just so happen to be in the same spots that are covered up by scar tissue in the design of present-day AFO is pretty interesting.

Coincidental New Abilities Given To Izuku & Izuku’s strange pain threshold.

So this is one that I have been asking questions about. OFA is a stock piling quirk, but from the looks of it, only strength is actually passed down from one individual to the next, like an energy reserve. However, if that is the case, why is it that all of a sudden the vestiges decided to change the rules of the game and bestow onto Izuku all of their abilities.

Why not All Might? He was the closest to killing AFO in the past, so if they had done so with him he might have actually done it.

It’s possible that the reason they chose Izuku was because of the impending catastrophes that were obviously coming to fruition with the League of Villains and Tomura.

I’m left to wonder if there was another reason, though:

One of the themes of My Hero Academia is how quirks harm the user over time. All Might gets wounded and then forces himself to keep using his quirk,  Bakugou hurts his arms if he uses his quirk too much, Aizawa gets dry eye, Ururaka throws up, and the most obvious of them is Izuku-- who breaks his bones with the intensity of his quirk.

This didn’t happen with All Might and apparently not with any of the past users, either, since All Might seemed surprised at the extent since it was easier for him, even though he suspected what the consequences might be. Add onto this that the ability is now supposed to be stronger than All Might’s was, and you get the picture.

The point is: Izuku gets wounded a lot and yet seems to have the pain resistance of a freaking monster I mean:

COME ON.

Taking that into consideration, AFO has been described as being concerned about how his quirk affects his body. Since he has so many quirks that could potentially harm him and overwhelm him. I mean, look at the experiments with the Nomu-- people are obviously not supposed to have more than one quirk.

So someone with the capability of wielding multiple quirks with possibly painful drawbacks would, probably, be able to pass on some of the needed traits to keep that up genetically to Izuku, amiright.

And it’s possible the vestiges could tell that Izuku could handle it because of this genetic connection.

He didn’t have a quirk, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t get other traits from AFO if he was his father, such as his endurance and pain threshold.

Which leads me to my next point:

Extra Toe Bone

I actually just thought of this when I was writing the last point, so if it makes no sense welp...

Izuku was born quirkless, something that is considered relatively rare, expecially as the generations go on. Quirks are genetic phenomenon, and so if two people who have quirks have a child, it is VERY slim that their child will be born quirkless, unless they had a grandparent or someone else down the line who was quirkless.

Now, AFO was part of the first generation of quirked people. Meaning, his parents would have likely been quirkless, something that would have made it much easier for his offspring to be quirkless, as well.

Fire-breathing Absent Father

This is one of the more easy and obvious ones.

Horikoshi has said that Izuku’s father would show up later in the story, meaning that he has had a plot planned out for Izuku’s parents. Whatever that might be.

So that obviously shuts down the idea that his father is simply an unimportant character. To be introduced so that into the story as if he’s a vital piece for the future story seems...strange. Pretty suspicious.

Anyways, there’s also the information that’s been given about Izuku’s father having the quirk of fire breathing, and, obviously, a man who has numerous quirks would have the possibility of being a fire breather.

There’s not much else to say about this point.

Parallelism

OH, this one’s my favorite.

Okay, looking at Tomura Shigaraki’s character for a moment, we see the connection he has with Nana, one of the previous holders of One for All.

This is a plot technique that is basically just a twist in the narrative. How could someone SO GOOD and someone that All Might looked up to have a grandchild so inherently evil? His family was relatively normal, even if his father was abusive (god, that’s a terrible thing to say but I digress). His father’s abuse came from the trauma he experiences when he was abandoned by Nana, but all in all his family was full of ordinary people. He had grandparents, a mother, a sister, and his abusive dad (oh god).

Even with the heroic heritage and the normal family life, Tomura becomes one of the worst villains in the series.

By parallelism, I mean, imagine the DRAMA if Izuku-- pure, wanting-to-be-a-hero, saving everyone’s ass, sunshine child Izuku-- was the most powerful villain’s child...that’d be fucking awesome. I would shit bricks. It’d be amazing!

Possibly predictable...

But amazing!

Plus, if you look at both Izuku and Tomura’s parents, if the Dad For One theory is true, they would each have one caring parent and one “bad” parent.

It would fit so well. With the narrative of the “heroes” of society not being inherently good (Nana abandoning her child-- even if she believed it was for his best interest) and villains simply being misunderstood until the point that they snap (look at literally ANY villain in the series. There’s some type of narrative about being abandoned by society).

One of the best heroes ever producing one of the greatest villains, and vice versa.

It’d be beautiful.

THAT’S some badass parallelism.

PLUS, it would fit with the narrative of ending the cycle of violence. For a story so based on the intricacies of society and what is truly “evil” and “good”, to have an ending where the two characters stray from their genetically defined path and decide their own destinies would be SO satisfying I’m getting excited just thinking about it.

ANYWAYS, I’m not so sure how much I believe this theory might come true, but I know that it’s not a silly theory at all. Looking at the narrative, the possible hints, the parallelism (GOD the PARALLELISM) it would make sense in the long run and, in my opinion, be super interesting.