#and im just sick and tired of this kind of pop culture and what it does to people
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I thought I was the only one getting tired of those trinity minis good lord, Its like TK only knows how to write one character trait and he’ll hold onto it for dear life. People seemed to also get tired of it but fandom (in twitter at least) is so impressionable theyll let it slide immediately if they can project enough (like saying Damian is a kpop fan now fsr?)
Yeah i saw a few accounts pop into my twitter and post and be like ‘this is stupid!’ But then repost the panels seven more times anyway its like…god shut up.
Also, arent these minis supposed to be about Lizzie? Maybe it’s because i dont read them and only see select panels but it feels like she’s barely in them? Its all just damian being a brat and jon being a bully to him and I’m just over it. Also why does this artist make jon a literal tim clone? Can he only draw bi characters one way? Give me a break.
Im also not a fan taylor swift at ALL and musician-worship is so gross to me in general, so just this whole mini was the camel straw for me. Im over it. If your name is Tom writing a bat character (or jon), just go away. (Im behind on nightwing but ive been unhappy with TT’s writing and then i saw todays bruce panel and its like….how fucking stupid.)
Juni Ba or nothing for me tbh (jk…or am i?)
I dunno. Maybe im just a cranky old bitch and out of touch with the youths. But these minis are garbage. These current writers are garbage. Im tired of paying for absolute shit writing and art and still being expected to say thanks.
#asks#anon#bee rambles#sorry im so dramatic i just had a long day at work#and im just sick and tired of this kind of pop culture and what it does to people
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(some) creepypasta/marble hornets music hcs :)
these are mostly from my own playlist they aren't accurate at all this is just 4 funsies lololol
also i highly doubt anyone will even see this post but if u do drop a song rec plz im struggling finding new music </3
tim (specifically him cs masky is too busy going apeshit 4 music)
old man music but like cool old man music (this is just what my father listens to LOL)
thinks he's got peak taste and snickers at everybody else's song choices
breathe - pink floyd
pet sematary - ramones
the chain - fleetwood mac
aerials - soad
lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley
hoodie
i pulled this out of my ass tbh but imagine 80s fan brian
kinda likes lil peep but would never tell a soul cs he thinks he's too old for it
doesn't rly share his music with anyone bcs he's afraid they're not gonna clown him for it
she's in parties - bauhaus
the brightside - lil peep
the ghost in you - psychedelic furs
messages - a flock of seagulls
hotel california - the eagles (cz y not)
jane
i never rly obsessed over her so this is js based on the vibes i get from the art i've seen of her (so pretty bruh)
echolalia - faetooth
nine while nine - sisters of mercy
closet - fleshwater
engine no. 9 - deftones
frigid and spellbound - spectral wound
nina
no way totally unexpected music
i think eventually she grew out of screamo and scene but never rly let emo go entirely
acid - ghost town
get away with murder - jeffree star (yikes)
what you need - bmth
freaxx - brokencyde (she's been in love with this album since it came out)
vampires will never hurt you - mcr
jeff
i like think that after what he did to his family he just kinda checked out from earth and stopped keeping up with most pop culture, so he's still listening to the same music he did back then.
peak edgy middle schooler vibes
never tires of his playlist
every now and again he comes across something new and gets obsessed with it immediately and probably forever
yen - slipknot
makedamnsure - taking back sunday
don't go - bmth
tourniquet - marilyn manson
crewcabanger - chelsea grin
toby
I-C-P FOREVER WITH THE JUGGALOSSSSSS
still enjoys twiztid even after the beef but secretly because it makes him feel like a poser
also likes jeff buckley but feels kinda cringe for it
the stalker - icp
house of mirrors - icp
my 1st time - dark lotus
2nd hand smoke - twiztid
grace - jeff buckley
liu
same reasoning as jane i know like nothing about this dude and even less about sully so i'm not even gonna attempt .
i fw his vibe tho
eye - smashing pumpkins
the man who sold the world - nirvana
heaven - talking heads
the sickness - imminence (he's gotta be a lil emo come on)
siamese twins - the cure
eyeless jack
this one is kinda hard tbh but considering his hypersensitivity to sound, i feel like he wouldn't enjoy anything too noisy
likes songs with a lot of bass because he can feel the bass reverberating through his body when he wears headphones
soft/airy vocals!!!! he hates screaming
doesn't rly stick with a specific genre just whatever makes his ears tingle lol
a forest - the cure
dark stone - holy fawn
hide and seek #1 - plastic tree
the thing - pixies
collabo - june freedom
BEN
bitch spends so much time on the internet he discovers new music every day
listens to everything but tries to flex the really obscure shit he finds in the depths of youtube (he wants to be cool but it's kind of pathetic.)
his playlist is MASSIVE and a mess, he usually has to skip through half of it before finding something he actually likes
i don't know why but he'd be into haunted mound
plays the majora's mask soundtrack when he can't think of anything to listen to
husqrider - turnabout
fentanylism - opiated devilsperm
starting over - lsd and the search for god
gou zin zan goku - deviloof
ugliest - $uicideboy$
laughing jack
he's old af and probably doesn't get modern music tbh
classical music it is
and opera
i'm not gonna make a whole playlist but he really loves erlkönig because of the story lol
#creepypasta#marble hornets#creepypasta headcanons#marble hornets headcanons#tim wright headcanons#eyeless jack headcanons#ticci toby headcanons#jeff the killer headcanons#nina the killer headcanons#jane the killer headcanons#ben drowned headcanons#laughing jack headcanons#hoodie headcanons#homicidal liu headcanons#i've fallen back into fandom activities oh no
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the point about throwaway terms is very fucking valid like i am fucking sick of seeing stuff about intrusive thoughts when it is just impulsive like intrusive thoughts are like "what if i poured boiling water on my cat" (not a literal example but that kind of thing) and they fucking suck and you feel horrific not just being silly and goofy
but i think the thing about gen z not being able to define itself it interesting as well because with social media there is no one thing you sit down as a generation and watch or take part in. there isnt really a top of the pops or a similar culturally defining piece of media other than say tiktok. but its also very easy to look at tiktok and see it as the face of gen z when i find most of the time it represents a small demographic of rich americans as opposed to the majority of gen z. like as a British person social media is very clearly dominated by americans
i also think there is something to be said about criticising gen z for being critical of older generations but consuming the media when we as a generation have been constantly harped on for being shit, have dealt with social media and being conscious of every political happening all at once from the age of 12, the housing crisis, brexit, the shortcomings of the education system, covid, and i could probably go on but all before even leaving school? and yet we are the generation that gets the piss taken out of us? like yes we fucking suck but also like come on. im not trying to say look at us we have it so hard because we didnt deal with world war two or the cold war or the 2008 financial crisis or 9/11 but we were also like 14 and witness to war nearly being started because of twitter and laying in bed at 15 watching black people being violently murdered and 16 trying to sleep after being told on the internet that if we dont post about everything happening ever you are a bad person, but our problem is not being able to define ourselves culturally? or trying to find an alternative to the present by looking back to the past that has been glorified by previous generations? like i dont think i can explain how mentally damaging waking up to find out that a bill allowing oil drilling in the arctic which will destroy the earth has been passed but still having to get up, go to school and pretend that fucking a levels matter before having any sort of life achievements is
sorry if this comes off as preachy but im just a little tired of older generations being seeming incapable of empathy sometimes - 🐸
No, you’re right! I mean, it’s very easy for us older folks who have done most of our growing up already to look back and say “they should be doing X or y” when….if that were true then we wouldn’t have “failed” before y’all even came along, haha. I think when we criticize gen z, there are two types of criticism:
1) where it’s just old people being afraid of change. Like, espcially socio-politically. It’s clear that the systems we have no HAVE FAILED CATASTROPHICALLY otherwise there wouldn’t be a recession, so much fascism etc. and it’s time for something radically different and older people don’t get the urgency of that as much as younger people do. Which is a cheap kind of criticism. Like, if you won’t support the kids then get the fuck out of their way. Cuz they’re gonna change the future with or without you. You’re just making it slower/harder for them.
2) criticism that recognizes some gen z movements as overcompensation or over correction of something that we ourselves have tried to fix before. It’s no huge secret that every generation develops its beliefs, aesthetic preferences, political ideals, etc in response to what came before it. Not just gen z. We millennials did it, too. And so did gen X and boomers…I think all the way back to at least the Reagan administration, here in the US anyways, things have been…on the downhill HAHA. and each generation tries to do something about. Then the next one comes along and is like “alright they tried X and failed, what if we try Y?” And sometimes we recognize the younger generations mistakes cuz we have made them, too and we just wanna be like “bro, no, no. Trust me. That’s not gonna work. You’ll see it when you’re older and you’re looking back at the generation after you too.” Those criticisms, I think, are fair. And might even help future kids if they listen.
But, at least for me, and I won’t speak for my entire generation or for those before me, my criticism doesn’t mean I don’t empathize. One of my fav Notes tracks is “People” purely because of the “stop fucking with the kids.” Young people have always been the face of change. They are usually the demographic that votes one party in and the other out. Conservatives always win only when they oppress the youth and appeal to the fear of old people. They’re on the edge of fashion, art, pop culture. So, I know better than to be dismissive of young people! Never! It’s just, sometimes I see the mistakes happening and I’m like “ohhh noooo stop before it’s too late” haha.
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here comes the bride, all dressed in pride
summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty
prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”
if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕
Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”
You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”
In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.
And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.
Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.
“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”
Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.
“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”
Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.
“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.
“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”
“As if you care.”
“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”
You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.
Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”
It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.
“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”
Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”
Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.
“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”
“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”
“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”
“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”
Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.
“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”
And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.
“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”
“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.
“How did you two even meet?”
“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”
“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”
“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”
And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.
“Of course,” you raise your glass.
“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”
“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”
And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.
“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”
“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”
“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”
“Don’t ask questions.”
Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”
“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”
He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.
You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((
You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.
You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.
Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.
Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?
Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.
“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.
At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.
“How was the walk over?”
“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”
Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.
“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.
And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.
“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”
“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.
Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”
“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”
He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”
“It… was mildly cute.”
“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”
“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”
The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.
“Is that why you never hung out with us?”
“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”
Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”
You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.
“So what’s the plan?”
“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”
His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”
With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.
Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.
“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”
“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”
“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.
“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”
Oh, this is going to be interesting.
Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.
His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.
“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”
Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.
“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”
“I do like Valorant.”
“He likes pork belly.”
“I do like pork belly.”
“He’s ripped as hell.”
“I am ripped as hell.”
“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.
“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”
“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."
"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”
“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”
“Okay yes one bad example—”
“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”
“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”
“See? It’s a mutual decision.”
Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”
"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”
"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"
"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."
"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”
“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.
Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”
“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”
You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”
“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.
“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.
“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”
“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”
“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”
Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”
“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”
“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”
You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”
Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.
“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”
“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”
And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.
You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.
“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.
Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”
“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”
While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.
“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”
“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.
“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.
“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”
Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”
“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”
“Right,” you answer reluctantly.
“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”
You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”
Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”
Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”
“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.
“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”
“Only if you want to.”
“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.
“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”
“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”
Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.
“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”
“But, Namjoon got us a table—”
“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”
His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”
“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”
“Sounds good.”
“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”
“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.
“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”
Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.
And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.
You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.
By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.
He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.
“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”
“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.
“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”
“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.
“Pray tell.”
“She’s jealous of you.”
“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”
“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”
You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”
“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”
Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”
“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”
“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”
You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?
“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.
You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.
“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”
Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.
“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”
You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.
He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.
“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.
“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”
He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.
“We’re in Vegas, baby!”
Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”
Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.
Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”
“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.
“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”
You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”
“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”
Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.
Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.
But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.
One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.
“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.
“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”
“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”
“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”
The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?
“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”
“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”
“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”
“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”
“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.
“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”
The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.
Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”
Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”
“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”
“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”
“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”
Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.
“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”
You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”
Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.
“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.
“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.
“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”
“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.
“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”
“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”
“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”
“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.
“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.
“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.
“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”
Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.
“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”
The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.
“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”
“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”
The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.
“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”
At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.
“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.
Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.
“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”
“But this is different!”
“But Doyeon’s family!”
“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.
“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”
Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”
“Deal.”
You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.
Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”
Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”
“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”
“Yeah, I will.”
“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”
“Excuse me—”
“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”
“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”
“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”
“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”
“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”
Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?
“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”
“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.
“Is it something urgent?”
“Well, no but—”
“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”
“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.
Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.
“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”
The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.
Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.
On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”
You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”
He shrugs, “Looked around.”
“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”
“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”
Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.
Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.
“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.
“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.
“I wanna come!”
“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”
“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”
“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”
“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”
“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.
By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.
Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.
The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.
Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.
But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.
“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”
“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.
“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”
“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”
“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”
“Then more kisses?”
“Then more kisses.”
Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”
You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”
Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.
Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?
Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀
Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting
Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…
Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u
Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious
Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.
“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.
“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”
“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”
The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u
You: lool, why do u look constipated
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile
You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN
You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.
“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.
“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”
And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.
“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.
“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”
You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.
You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.
“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”
“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”
“Because it’s tradition!”
“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”
“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”
You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.
Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.
From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.
Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.
The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.
As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.
Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”
Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.
You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?
Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.
You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”
Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.
Jungkook loves your family.
(Except Doyeon.)
As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.
Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.
But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.
Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.
He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.
When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.
“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.
You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”
“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”
You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”
“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.
“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.
Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.
“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”
“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.
He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.
The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.
Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”
The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.
The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.
You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.
“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”
You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.
“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”
“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”
You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.
“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”
And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.
Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.
Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?
Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.
“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”
“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”
He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”
He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.
You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”
“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.
“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”
“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”
“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”
“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.
“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”
“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.
“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”
Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.
Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”
His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.
But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.
“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”
“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”
“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”
Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”
He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!
The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.
He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.
“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.
“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.
In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”
He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”
“Thanks, Jungkookie.”
He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.
As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.
Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.
“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.
“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”
“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”
“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”
He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.
“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”
Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”
“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”
Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.
But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.
And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.
Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.
It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.
The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.
The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.
But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.
You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine
When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.
So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.
Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”
You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.
“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”
“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”
“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”
“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.
Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent
Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.
The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.
He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.
“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”
You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”
“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”
“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”
“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”
“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.
“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”
Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”
“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”
“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”
“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”
You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”
Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”
“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”
“You’ll have to get through me, first.”
Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.
Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”
“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”
“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.
“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”
“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”
You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”
“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.
“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”
Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.
“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.
Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”
As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”
As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”
The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.
“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”
“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.
Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”
You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.
“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”
“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”
“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.
“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”
The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.
“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”
Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.
The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.
There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.
Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.
As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.
And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.
Or?
Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?
“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.
“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”
“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”
Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.
All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.
“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.
You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”
“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”
“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”
“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”
You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”
That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.
You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.
“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”
Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.
“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”
“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.
“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”
Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.
“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”
Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.
“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”
Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”
#jungkook x reader#gcn23#goldenclosetnet#btsghostie#kwritersworldnet#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts angst
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Syndicate + gang leader au where Henry kills his brothers
Jacob x Henry because it’s healthier than Lanyon x Henry
-🦎
OK THIS ONE IM ACTUALLY GOING TO TRY TO STAY ON TOPIC TO AND JUST RAMBLE IDEAS AND HCS INSTEAD OF TRYING TO MAKE A GODDAMN MASTER LIST OF EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THE AU JFC HOW DOES THAT KEEP HAPPENING SDJFHSJDF
Anyways <3
Gang leader / Syndicate crossover au:
Henry is the youngest of the three brothers, Raphael and Kent are nonidentical twins. Henry is two years younger than them and has always been the baby of the group. Raphael and Kent have always been protective of him and also love to mess with him.
Their parents were abusive, Raphael and Kent decided to take the opportunity to leave Glasgow the first moment they got and they took Henry with them. They moved to London and one of their uncles-- who owned and inherited quite a successful shipping company by the London docks-- gave Kent and Raphael jobs as Henry went to university. The uncle died before Henry graduated, and left the business to Raphael and Kent.
Henry did not talk a lot to his brothers while in University. He tried to reach out to them but suddenly Raphael and Kent were "incredibly busy", Henry assumed they were busy trying to keep the family business going well.
He went to visit them on their dock after he graduated and got his doctorate. He had learned a lot about the London "culture" and gangs from Robert (and Rachel) telling him everything there is about the London underground and the aristocracy. Much to his horror, he arrived at the docks to find his brothers dressed as Templars.
Henry was quickly forced into the Templar order against his will. His brothers gaslight and manipulated him into joining, other members threatened to hurt him or his friends if he didn't join, and it ended up being Henry's biggest regret.
Henry spent about 13 years in the Templar order working in secret for it. He was allowed to do as he pleased as long as he made poisons for them. In the meantime, Henry tried to make up for the guilt he had from the suffering he had caused by helping people on the street. Hungry, dirty, sick people who quickly becoming loyal to the doctor who always feeds them and gives them what they need to survive.
In this part of the au, Henry more directly creates the gang. He realizes that these people are willing to fight for him and they have placed him on a pedestal. He can't get himself down from it so he takes advantage of it. He makes sure that the Society is under constant protection and that the gang brings in money that can be spent on taking care of the members and keep the Society afloat. No Lodger cares enough for the finances to notice the sudden influx of money, and Henry merely tells Rachel and Robert that it’s “sponsors”.
It was only when the Frye Twins entered and began to liberate London that he decided that it was the perfect time to finally break free from the Templar order. He had long since lost any love he still had for his brothers and he would do anything to be free again. He ended up cornering and murdering his brothers in cold blood while his gang distracted the Blighters, and he blamed the murders on the Frye Twins afterwards, the very same Frye Twins that quickly would... Well... Realize that they did not kill these Templars and instead try to track down the murderer that blamed it on them.
In the end, they find their way to Dr. Henry Jekyll's office. Henry had done a good job and working behind the scenes and no one had really suspected him of working for the Templars, so the twins-- while hearing from Greenie that it was rumored that the Jekyll Brothers and Dr. Henry Jekyll were related-- did not know that Henry himself used to be a Templar.
Henry, however, assumed they had broken into his office to kill him. He had already resigned himself to his own death, he was not going to fight it. He had burnt every photograph and document he had that connected him to his brothers and he had merely been waiting for the twins to come and kill him. He was, honest to god, quite disappointed when the Twins seemed confused and instead asked him if he knew anything about the murder of the Jekyll brothers.
"...The murder of my brothers, the Templars? The murder committed by someone close and well trusted by them, the murder that went undetected, and that was later blamed on you? The murder that had slank past the eyes of public after a convenient gang fight right that moment?"
It does not take long for the twins to realize what he is hinting to. His voice his bitter and his body language is cold, yet it doesn't sound like he regrets it.
ahaha anyways i ended up accidentally just retelling the entire thing well time for some actual hcs about this au branch.
Henry gets extreme paranoia after having murdered his brothers. He swears he can still see their faces of terror or hear their screams of pain and agony when he closes his eyes and try to go to sleep. He constantly feels followed by them, but he is too used with Hyde, so he doesn't pay attention to "them". When he doesn’t sleep, they silently follow him with whatever other hallucinations he have at the moment, like Moreau.
He wanted to be the one to murder his brothers himself, he didn't find it dignified to have someone else do the murdering for him. He generally does not want his gang to murder people, only hurt those of necessity, and he still wanted to give his brothers the dignity of not having to be killed by a random gang member.
Something in him kinda... Died that day. His friends, the Lodgers, and his very on gang could all notice how Henry seemed... Colder, more tired, constantly exhausted. He refused to tell anyone why, though, and he still did everything he needed to do so no one could force an explanation out of him. It was not until the newspapers reported on the murder that people realized that he was acting weirdly because his brothers had been murdered. Henry debated snapping his own neck once the Lodgers began to flock to him with words of sympathy, unaware that he was the murderer.
He is extremely benevolent to his gang, something many feared he wouldn’t be at first. He has always been a kind person and that’s why people began to flock to him as it was, but some feared that he would... Ah, turn crueler after a while like most gang leaders. That never happened, though. He saw each and every one of his gang members as his family, and took care of them as such.
He and his gang began teaming up with Lucy many years before either met the twins. It was always fun when Rachel tried to introduce the two of them without telling Henry that Lucy is... Well, Queen Lucy, and it was always fun to act as if they had never met before and as if Henry hadn’t just been invited to dinner the night before. Henry is really good friends with Patrin and Elise.
Henry’s gang wear blue. The Blighters wear red and before the twins and the Rook started, Henry didn’t want his own gang associated or reminding him of Hyde. Blue it was, and it easily made his gang slip into crowds and disguise themselves to be the Scotland Yard.
Neither Brokenshire nor Abberline knew about Henry’s gang until Abberline started working with the twins and until after Henry was “recruited” by them. Depending on if Henry murdered his brothers before or after he joined the twins, Abberline and Brokenshire helped him cover up the murder.
Ahaha wow Uhm. I keep forgetting how I format and classify these as rambles but anyways time for some Jekyll x Jacob <3 This is just going to be in general btw so <3<3
Henry was incredibly endeared by Jacob from the moment he heard about him. Something about a tall, strong ruffian bringing justice to the streets of London (and fighting Templars) was just incredibly... Ah, attractive in Henry’s eyes. He actually allowed himself to feel that because hell, he works for the Templars and Jacob is supposed to be the enemy, Henry hates the Templars, why not be incredibly gay for the assassin?
Jacob shamelessly flirted with Henry from the first moment the met. Breaking into his office to figure out who murdered his brothers and Jacob could certainly not read the room. Henry was far too gone that he merely huffed and flirted back... Well, until they came to the topic at hand. Even in other branches were Henry was recruited by them to make poisons, or where they met in a gang fight, and Jacob still shamelessly flirts with Henry.
Jacob tries so hard to be romantic. Henry is incredibly amused by it. He will be working in his office late at night and Jacob will pop by his open window to demand attention. He will come back to his office after having ran son errands and there will be bouquets of fresh lavenders, lilacs, and tulips. Jacob will constantly “force” him (or, well, bribe him to leave his work) to go on dates with him, dates that consists of wandering the rooftops of London and watch the stars at night or have a nice dinner together. He loves to spoil Henry rotten <3
Jacob loves cuddles. Henry was not very physically affectionate at first. He was afraid that Jacob would end up doing the same thing Robert did to him and while he couldn’t keep away from him, Jacob made sure to take it slow for him. Their favorite pastime is to cuddle on one of the couches in the train after exhausting missions, and Henry finds that he can’t keep away from Jacob’s touch for too long.
Rachel and Robert began to introduce Henry into the more... Ah, illegal luxuries of the London life. They take him to a fight club and are highly confused when Henry suddenly gets incredibly excited as he watches his boyfriend kick the shit out of people. He completely abandons them and practically fall into Jacob’s (sweaty and slightly bloody) arms the moment the fighting is done. Both he and Hyde love to check out Jacob fighting in fight clubs.
(Jacob post-fight is probably the hottest sight Henry has ever seen and Jacob knows that fully well. Jacob often uses the money he wins from the fights buying gifts for his lil boyfriend <3).
Another ideal date in the eyes of Jacob is highjacking Henry’s carriage and abducting him. It’s all fun and games until he accidentally does that when Jasper, Rachel, or Robert are in the carriage too. That was not fun for Henry to explain.
After Jacob and Evie have liberated all child factories, Henry makes a spur-of-the-moment decision to adopt Clara (the child who wanted the twins to free the children in the factories). Clara ends up getting raised by two very protective and very lovely-dovely dads. She spends most of her time in the Society (while still helping the kids on the street) but Jacob visits her and Henry a lot.
Look I just want Henry and Jacob to raise a kid that won’t come back and try to murder them later on ok.
Anyways on to some other hcs. Jacob loves to make sexual jokes to Henry. Henry either acts dumb and as if he doesn’t understand them, or he will shot them right back until Jacob is the one blushing (or highly embarrassed).
Jacob loves to break into the Society and follow Henry around but make sure he doesn’t see him. He will be parkour over the ceiling beams and all the Lodgers will notice and get extremely paranoid, trying to get Henry to notice it too because clearly something is up, Henry will completely ignore him most of the time.
Jacob rarely sleeps because his work as an assassin rarely allows him to, but once he and Henry starts dating he always makes sure to visit Henry during the night (or have Henry come to the train) so that they can cuddle and sleep together, knowing Henry won’t sleep by himself.
Henry is always the tiny spoon. Always. Jacob loves to hold him. Henry is always cold and Jacob is always warm so for Henry it’s like being wrapped in a blanket and for Jacob it’s like having an ice cube chilling down his overheated body.
Henry gets overwhelmed quite easily, both in general and with their actual relationship. As dramatic and clingy Jacob can be at times, he always gives Henry the space he needs and especially in the beginning, when everything was so new and Henry had to take his time to process everything. Jacob is always patient with him.
Henry likes to create stuff for Jacob. It can be everything from new poisons to new gadgets, to something as simple as a painting or a hand-made sweater he did himself. When the gifts became more... Simple, so to speak, he worried that Jacob wouldn’t like them, but Jacob absolutely loves and treasures anything Henry does for him, although he routinely gives the sweaters and clothing back so Henry can wear them, and so Jacob can get them back and it smells like his boyfriend <3
(Evie always finds Jacob cuddled up with the sweater in the mornings when they can’t be together. She thinks that it’s stupidly adorable).
Jacob stays in London after Evie and Green get married and move to India. He would originally have thought of leaving London to return to the Assassin Order in Crawley, but ultimately decided to stay with his lover in London. After the end events of TGS, the two of them buy a horse ranch out in the countryside where they retire. Jacob occasionally returns to London as the leader of the Rooks, and soon they begin on working to expand the gang to other cities. Henry doesn’t normally return to London, but always eagerly awaits his husbands return. By the time they have retired and moved, Clara goes to University in London, but she always makes sure to visit her dads inbetween her semesters.
They get to die a peaceful death after having lived a long and fulfilling life. Henry died first, his body having gotten weaker after many years of HJ7, and Jacob died only a few days afterward. Clara made sure they got buried in the same grave, and their little farmhouse and their belongings (and their story) has been passed down from generations ever since.
Lydia, Jacob’s canonical granddaughter that lives through ww1, is instead Greenie’s and Evie’s grandchild for this au/ship.
#Liz. Liz i have been writing this for like an entire day. I am so sorry if its not good but! I tried! an#and i keep forgetting what i classify as ramblings. Anyways have some random ideas and shite <3#ask#lizard anon#banshees au#gang au#syndicate crossover au
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My bad I didn't mean to make it sound like I was singling out black kpop stans tbh I think I followed you because of a post critiquing it a while ago and was wondering your thoughts on it. tbh I'm just in a place where the misogynoir from every angle was tiring and I had just seen a tiktok where a black kpop stan was saying how *** are allies and it triggered me. I really agree with you but tbh I don't interact with the musicians mentioned because of same points you made.
i get u!!!!! usually a lot of ppl in my inbox are like hyperfocused on kpop so im always trying to get them to broaden their horizons. i totally get being sick of all of the misogynoir ESP in kpop spheres bc it be ur own ppl who doxx u. but i find that there are so many different kinds of black kpop stans nd the ones that hype up *** specifically are the ones that are looking for blackness in nonblacks bc of fetishization of korean men nd their own internalized antiblackness which is like a whole different thing than the average black kpop fan 😭😭😭😭😭 its the same as the rnb pick mes nd the ariana pick mes theyre replacing a healthy acceptance of their blackness with stan culture clout nd it doesnt matter what theyre into theyre gonna attack others bc THEYRE unwell. thankfully those types flock to v specific kind of content so once u avoid all the international kpop groups nd pop blackfishers u can dodge a lot of their bullshit
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Uhm, can i have a little story where the reader is an exchange student from america and misses home, so she's up late one night cooking some american food bc she misses home and like cries while eating it but todo or kiri find them and help them feel better? I'm sorry if i worded this weird, I'm still a little new to requesting things. thank you! ˶⚈Ɛ⚈˵
Haha, don’t worry, it wasn’t weird! I picked Todoroki, hopefully this fits what you wanted! :)
Todoroki x Reader
Word Count: 2283
Warnings: Verrry light angst, author being stupid with how Japanese schools work, fluff at the end, potentially ooc Todoroki? Ugh im inexperienced with him
Summary: (Y/n) is a foreign U.S. student at UA. One night she feels very homesick while making nostalgic American food, and Todoroki finds her crying…
UA was elite, and served not only as a distinguished school in Japan, but also on a global scale. When you sent in your application, you had little hope of moving on to the written and practical exam portion, especially with you being from America. So imagine your surprise when you actually received a letter in the mail informing you that you had been invited to Japan, expenses paid on top of that!
Within a week, you and your parents rushed to pack your things into three suitcases and sent you over to Japan on a flight across the Pacific ocean. The whole experience filled you with a mixture of emotions. Of course you were ecstatic to have a chance at attending UA! Surely this was the best school to get you ahead on your hero career. But you couldn't deny the fear that this news struck within you.
It was your first time flying alone, and to a foreign country at that. You were leaving your entire life behind in America without much time to say goodbye to your friends and family. While you could speak Japanese, you were far from fluent by native standards. And, on top of all that, you still had to check into your hotel and take the exams before you were actually admitted into UA. What if you had come all this way just to be sent back?
By the time you arrive in Japan and retrieve your bags from the baggage claim, it was already 1 in the morning. Exhausted, you waited at the pick up line, looking for the person from UA who should be waiting for you. Eyes tired and heavy, you saw a tall man with spiky blond hair holding a sign with your name on it. He was quite the character, and feeling intimidated, you hesitantly introduce yourself with your amateur Japanese.
The man, who introduced himself as one of the teachers at UA and pro-hero Present Mic, was actually very friendly! Despite how weary you felt, you forced a smile, hoping everyone here was as nice as he was. Once you were settled into your hotel, Mic informed you to rest well, for the exams were early the next morning! Leaving you to your room, you leapt into the bed the moment he closed the door.
Without even bothering to change out of your clothes, you fell asleep within seconds, but not before setting an alarm for 7am. As you slept, you weren’t aware that within the next 24 hours you would not only be admitted into the UA hero program, but in the top 1-A hero class.
After two weeks into school, you learned a number of things. First, that being from America instantly made you a class celebrity. Every student in class already knew you the moment you first entered the room, and you were unprepared for how many questions you were bombarded with. Though overwhelming, you had to admit that it was a good ice-breaker for making friends!
Second, not every teacher was as kind as Present Mic. Mr. Aizawa was border-line sadistic, and on top of that you got off to a rocky start. Who would have known your newfound fame would also have Aizawa target you for being a distraction. Unfortunately for you, you had to work two times as hard to prove to him you were serious about your education.
Third, life in Japan was significantly different from America. It was a huge culture shock, and you struggled with the social differences between both countries. Despite your frequent mistakes, your classmates were very forgiving, and gave you helpful tips on how to act appropriately in Japan. Though, you found yourself in quite a few embarrassing situations…
Despite the difficulties, you wore a large smile as time went on. You could feel yourself growing stronger and adapting to life here. You became fast friends with your classmates, especially with Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida. Uraraka even took you under her wing and helped improve your Japanese! Eventually people began to no longer associate you with America. Instead of ‘the American’, they viewed you as they did any other hardworking classmate.
Even Todoroki, who initially deemed you a distraction, had opened up to you. Much to your surprise, he was actually rather fun to be around despite his cool and intimidating exterior. After Midoriya had introduced you both, you found it much easier to talk to him. Soon your mutual admiration had morphed into a friendship, and you really appreciated his company. While he never showed much interest in where you came from, you appreciated it. It made you feel less like an oddity, like you belonged here.
By the time the first semester finals arrived, life in Japan had become routine and normal. Of course you missed some things about home in America, but you were always having so much fun and were so busy that you rarely had time to feel down about it! At least...that’s what you thought.
At night, when you were alone with your own thoughts, you couldn’t ignore the waves of home-sickness that overwhelmed you. Sure you had made friends; you would even say Todoroki and Uraraka had become your best friends. But, you still felt hollow when you remembered all of the people you had left behind. The food, the weather, the brands… everything was different from what you were used to, and you find yourself missing things as little as a can of coke or some good ol’ Kraft mac n’ cheese.
During one of your bi-weekly phone calls, you relayed to your mom that you were beginning to miss home. As much as you loved everyone here, it was hard to talk to them about home when they could never really understand where you were coming from. Your mother, however, understood completely. The moment you told her you were homesick, she sent you a small care package in the mail of all of your favorite things! It was packed to the brim with American foods and snacks, and your mouth watered just looking at them all!
You pushed the box under your bed, afraid that your friends may try to steal some of them when you clearly needed it more than them. Your supplies were limited after all. It didn’t hurt what they didn’t know!
Now, during the nights when you feel homesick and lonely, you would pop out one of your American snacks. You would close your eyes and imagine you were back home in the states, and for a little bit you would feel better...before you had to open your eyes again and clean up the empty trash.
It was on one of these nights that you decided to make some Kraft mac n’ cheese. You had been saving the box for a particularly hard night, and this one...this one took the cake. Aizawa had put you all through one of the most excruciating training sessions of the month, and on top of that you hadn’t done so hot on one of your quizzes. By now it was too late to call your mom for comfort, and you felt very, very alone.
You were tired, but you couldn’t sleep. So, grabbing the box of Kraft, you quietly snuck out from your dorm to the common room so you could make your food. The common room usually buzzed with activity, but now with most people retired to their rooms, it was quiet. You leaned on the counter, watching the pot for the water to boil.
Time seemed to slow as you absent-mindedly drained the noodles. The moment you ripped open the cheese pouch and got a whiff of that smell, you felt your lip tremble a little. You felt awful.
Making yourself a bowl, you sat down at the table and stared into the food you had made. Your mouth watered as you lifted a spoonful to your mouth, closing your eyes as you ate. Like those many nights before, you tried to imagine you were sitting at your kitchen table back home in America...but you couldn’t escape.
When you opened your eyes your vision was blurred with tears. Sniffling, you forced another spoonful into your mouth desperately hoping it could fill the void in your stomach. It didn’t. Setting the spoon back into the bowl, you rubbed your eyes with your sleeve, little sobs retching out of you. All this time you had refused to cry. All this time you had refused to show anyone how lonely you were. Finally, months of repressed emotion came pouring out.
Overwhelmed, you almost didn’t hear the voice from behind you. “(Y/n)?” You couldn’t respond, trying to quiet your sobs as the person approached you. Looking up, you saw Todoroki take a seat in front of you, concern written all over his usually emotionless face. Your tear-stained face felt hot with embarrassment. You had hoped everyone was asleep by now, but here you were, caught, sobbing over your food. You tried to hide your face, feeling pathetic.
“(Y/n),” Todoroki said more firmly, placing his hands on your forearms to reveal your face. Forced to look him in the eye, you felt your body shake and you laughed pitifully.
“I’m pathetic aren’t I?” you asked him, your voice congested with tears. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” you cried. Todoroki didn’t speak for a moment, his eyes piercing.
With his hands still holding you gently, he asked you in a very serious tone. “Did someone hurt you?” You were already shaking your head, sniffling. He left out a relieved sigh, his eyes softening immensely as he looked at you. “Why are you so distraught?”
Again, you felt yourself laugh sadly. “It’s stupid, it’s…” Todorki shook his head at this, causing your lip to tremble as more tears spilled from your eyes. “I-I just really miss everything. My home, my family,” you looked as your bowl of still steaming mac and cheese, “the food…everything.” Surprising you, Todoroki lifted a hand to gently brush away a stray tear. Never since you met him had he been so tender with you.
“You’re homesick,” he mumbled more to himself than you. Hearing it aloud was enough to send tremors through you, another wave of emotion overtaking you. Letting you cry it out, you felt his hand take and squeeze your own. The pressure was reassuring. As you finished, you heard him speak softly to you. “Tell me about it.”
You blinked, a surprised look crossing your teary eyes. “About America?” Ever since you met, Todoroki had never expressed interest in the United States. That was one of the reasons you liked hanging out with him at first. Seeing him ask about it now was unexpected to say the least.
Todoroki shook his head. “Not about America, about your home.” You blinked. His request was so much different than everyone else’s. People were usually only interested in the school system, or the politics, or the culture. His eyes were so serious, you couldn’t help but feel a little flattered that he actually wanted to hear about your past.
You sniffed, wiping your eyes. “Well,” you began, “I had this one friend…” you began to tell him about your past-life, from your friendships, to your family, to your favorite places to go in your home-town. It was the first time you had spoken about it to anyone at UA, and seeing how intently Todoroki listened to you made you feel as if every word you said was important. The whole while you spoke his hands encased yours, letting you know in a tangible language that he was there. You talked until your voice ran dry and your food was cold.
You finished talking, and your eyes felt heavy. You were exhausted from crying, and by now it was very late. Todoroki was already helping you to your feet when you yawned. “I’ll clean this up for you,” he said, looking into your face. “You should get to bed. Can you walk?”
You felt your heart flutter at his concern for you. “Yes,” you said, voice tired. Todoroki looked at you for a few seconds before shaking his head, unconvinced. Silently, he reached out and lifted you into his arms effortlessly. Feeling heat rise to your face, you went silent, wrapping your arms around him to better balance yourself.
As if you were as light as a feather, he carried you back to your dorm, using one hand to carefully open your door without dropping you. Once he made it to the side of your bed, he gently sat you down. “I’m going to go clean up,” he spoke, his eyes running over your form. “Will you be alright on your own?” You nodded, still flustered from your ride.
Todoroki seemed assured, turning to leave. In a moment of panic, you reached out and grabbed his wrist. “W-Wait,” you began, eyes wide as he pauses to look back at you. “Thank you...for staying up with me and for listening.” You looked down, shy. Feeling a slight pressure on your forehead, you glance back up to see Todoroki pulling away.
“You’re welcome, (Y/n),” he said softly, a fond look in his eyes. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow. For now you should get some rest. Sweet dreams.” Quietly, he left the room and shut the door, leaving you wondering if he had even been there at all.
Rolling over in your bed, you felt a fuzzy feeling in your chest as you remembered how he kissed your forehead just a minute ago. Suddenly, you didn’t feel quite so alone.
#todoroki x reader#bnha x reader#bnha imagines#bnha todoroki#mha x reader#mha imagines#request#bnha headcanons#bnha matchup#shoto todoroki
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Kdramas mean so much cause they’re good AND they have Asians
you have no idea what that means to a born, raised, and hasn’t even left the philippines, filipina who’s spent most her life obsessed with western media and content
this is just me poring my asian heart out over finally seeing so much asians be awesome onscreen. saranghae and mahal ko kayong lahat <3333
Before i now have to come back to my unfortunately regularly scheduled programming of primarily gushing about western fandoms, i’d just like to take this brief time to talk about how much discovering and finally garnering an appreciation for kdramas means to me
kdramas are popular in my country. while most girls were gushing about oppas, i was the weirdo binging the arrowverse, GOT, grey’s anatomy, doctor who, and various american sticoms and animated series
it kinda made me bitter tbh haha. like, WHY DIDNT THEY LIKE THE STUFF I LIKED? or, WHY DIDNT I LIKE THE STUFF THEY LIKED?
so, i kind of knowingly unfairly decided kdramas sucked ass and were lame and basic and said screw them, the stuffed i watched was AWESOME
and for some part, the sentence i said is still true. kdramas still have a lameness to them and i still really like adore and appreciate the western fandoms i dove into over the years
but, it’s been a hell of a long time since i was only watching a handful of shows. i am now an older fangirl, who’s been through bad runs and writing, cancellations, series finales, and just overally ass suckery in the fandom business
i’ve been through a lot, and frankly, ever since Crazy Rich Asians, Crazy-Ex Girlfriend and maybe Colleen Wing in Iron Fist S2, i just realized how rewarding and awesome it was to see asian culture, cultures very similar to mine, portrayed on screen
it was so awesome to see a badass adorable cute awesome and truly heroic asian woman portrayed in colleen wing by jessica henwick
this newfound appreciation for asian content also made me appreciate Mulan, a classic childhood favorite of mine already, and Melinda May from AOS even further.
as my newfound asian appreciation grew, the more i got sick from seeing the same ol non-asian protagonists in the media i consumed
so, yes, i still very much care about the fandoms i’ve had for some time now. they’re the same old tired non-asian characters i’ve always spent my time with, so i still feel sentimental about them. we have history, for pete’s sake.
but like i said, they’re old and tired and the same damn thing i’ve watched for the past decade and more of my life.
which could be why all this asian representation is just hitting me right in the feels. you truly never know how much representation matters until it happens. and you just... feel it. the joy of seeing yourself on screen. it’s like, you’re finally being seen for who you are.
it just gets me, you know?
so, yes, i am loving all of the representation that we are now getting more and more of. however, the real true reason that i was driven to talk about this just before i go back to what is sadly my normal blog activity (western fandoms, that is), i just wanna highlight over and over and over again that asian content means so effing much to me and i’m really bummed it isn’t what’s normal on my blog, or that it isn’t as popular as what i usually post about
and that annoys the hell out of me, that kdramas are actually pretty and really good (REALLY REALLY EXCELLENT, imo, in cloy’s case), but they aren’t being given the love and adoration it deserves. especially since asian representation matters so much to me. seeing asians be just as cool and badass and gorgeous and awesome as other non-asians but less appreciated bums the frick out of me.
of course i get that the content is quite different. kdramas tend to be more extreme or lean more into character types while western content tends to be more subtle and chill and casual. and there’s the language barrier. so yes, believe me when i say, I GET IT. i understand why most people don’t get into it.
i’m just here as a filipino fangirl pleading the case of kdramas, proposing they’re just as good and imperfect as western media. they’re both good and bad in their own ways.
i wished i talked more about asian content in this blog, i’m bummed that i’m gonna stop rn cus the western content that keeps popping up on my radar is piling up and i want to get rid of em all and have a clean slate.
so for now, i want to leave this post at the very top of my blog for maybe a couple of days since i just want to emphasize that kdramas and asian content mean a lot to me. i wish i could talk about them more, but i also want to share some stuff regarding some of my older fandoms. i am doing this cause i want to say that asian content deserves as much of my time as western content does. i am writing this to say that i still very much care about kdramas to a more meaningful extent than any other fandom i’ve recently joined because they make me proud to be asian.
i am planning to talk about them more some time in the future, but for now, it’s time for a clean slate. im gonna start posting about western fandoms for a bit again. it bums me out they’re the majority of what i automatically see in tumblr but i still feel i have to share em since they’re still good content nevertheless.
asian content matters so much to me, but for now, back to my ol fandoms. i’ll return to kdramas once again tho. i’ll be back. i have to. ( ≧Д≦)( ≧Д≦)( ≧Д≦)ಥ_ಥ
#<3#:')#asian drama#asian#asianart#asian cinema#asian culture#asians#philippines#filipinas#filipino#filipinos#filipina#kdrama#colleen wing#crazy rich asians#crazy ex girlfriend#melinda may#fa mulan#crash landing on you#crash landing of love#jazzessments#important
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Remember that time when society made you think you were straight?
So, it’s been more than a month since I posted anything. As my 30th birthday looms (3 days and counting), I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about who I am. I’ve been reflecting nostalgically on my youth (i.e., listening to early 2000′s emo). I’ve had so many threads of ideas for post topics floating around my brain, and I’ve wanted to sit down and get into all of them, but... I’ve been utterly stuck on this one idea, and I’ve been stalling. I’ve been going back and forth in my head over whether it’s important enough to write about this. Questioning the validity of something I know to be true about me.
I’m afraid to say (write) these things. I’m afraid that people won’t understand. That’s one reason not to write this. Also, this feels self-indulgent. Nobody asked. I’m not sure anybody cares. I feel silly shouting “me too!” when friends of mine have been out - have had to be out - for years now. It’s moot as far as others are because I’m married. I've already “settled down,” so why does it matter? Those are additional reasons not to write this. But, it does matter.
Because I’ve learned that research shows learning the story of someone who’s a member of an oppressed group can help change people’s minds. And I know that sometimes people change their minds when they realize someone they know is LGBTetc. And maybe I can be that person.
Because bi erasure is real and harmful and I don’t want to implicitly contribute to it.
Because it’s not fair that, because I am married to a man, I shouldn’t have to be open about my sexuality as a prerequisite to living my authentic life, when so many LGBTetc people that I love don’t have that option.
Because every moment that passes that I don’t share this, I feel less authentic. And it hurts to be inauthentic.
Because self-love and self-acceptance are my main goals for my 30th year.
Because maybe I can help young people.
Because it’s true. (And the truth is always a gift).
Those are all my reasons to write this. And today they outweigh the reasons not to.
In early December of 2016, I went out with some girlfriends. We ended up huddled around somebody’s kitchen island, wine tipsy, chatty, giggly… all wearing incredibly immature “ugly Christmas sweaters.” I had a warm glowy feeling going. We were discussing our husbands when the conversation took a stereotypical turn in the “men - can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em” direction, and then we were on the subject of kissing women. Someone said, “I could definitely kiss a girl,” to which I shrugged “I mean, course!” in agreement. Then they qualified with, “but that’s probably it - I could never go down on a girl,” to which the rest of the girls agreed with varying degrees of enthusiasm. I shrugged and let the subject naturally change. This is the most recent in a series of conversations throughout my life, where I’ve found myself realizing that the way I feel is not the way the majority of straight women I know feel. This was the first time I noticed it in real time, though, rather than in hindsight.
It’s taken the better part of 30 years, and the happy accident of discovering Skam - and the incredible Skam fandom (Skam Fam - more on that later) - but I am finally in a place where I consciously know what I am: bisexual. Or possibly-probably pansexual. I’m not sure. Labels are tricky, as we’ve discussed. Anyway...
Growing up godless, I didn’t have any religiously rooted shame to overcome. I’ve always been emphatically pro-LGBT rights, ever since learning the meaning of the word “gay” and the concept of “same-sex marriage.” That’s always felt intensely personal to me. I’ve always felt a connection to LGBT stories in (pop) culture. They’re always the stories I latch onto and obsess over. I’ve always felt attracted to girls/women. I’ve always flirted with boys/men and girls/women, and I’ve always meant it. And yet… somehow, at the same time, I had no idea that meant I wasn’t straight. I didn’t know that what I was feeling for girls and women was different from what my straight friends were feeling. I assumed that everyone must be feeling what I was feeling, and since I was attracted to boys and men, too, I ignored that part of me. I received no messages that it was a valid option, and so I didn’t even consider it. I had trouble distinguishing between friendship feelings and romantic/sexual feelings, with girls and boys, so the confusing jumbled mess all felt normal to me. I dated boys by default, and nobody ever really asked, so I never really thought much about it.
When I was 18 and 19, I did the stereotypical “drunkenly make out with other girls at parties to get guys’ attention” thing. Only, it was mostly just one girl. And I’ve never been an attention-seeker. Looking back, I just really enjoyed making out with my best friend. And so I was happy to play along with the default narrative. ...I didn’t understand any of this at the time.
During the summer before my senior year of college, I developed real - or at least closer to conscious - feelings for a girl for the first time. We met working a nerdy biology summer job together. I knew I thought she was beautiful and elegant and stylish. I knew I thought she was smart and funny. I knew I thought she was incredibly pretentious and kind of irritating, and my straight male roommate who also worked with us couldn’t really stand her. I knew that, objectively, she was not someone I’d be expected to befriend. I knew I couldn’t get enough of her anyway. I knew that when we roomed together at a hotel during a work trip, I enjoyed the intimacy of it more than she did. And I knew that when we each slipped pantless into the sheets of our respective beds, and talked until the middle of the night, I felt fizzy. I knew that she annoyed the shit out of me, but I missed her when we were apart. I knew all these things, and yet at the same time, I didn’t totally know why I felt all these things. I chalked it up to quick, intense friendship. I didn’t think much about it, because we both had boyfriends at the time. (Not to mention, I was also developing an increasingly flirtatious texting relationship with her male roommate, and harboring a secret identify as my university’s mascot. I had a lot going on at the time.)
The summer ended and I didn’t see her any longer. I broke up with the boyfriend and jumped quickly into a circumstantially intense relationship with a new guy. My year as a mascot, my senior year of college, was a total whirlwind of mascotting and one incredibly unexpected, devastating, formative experience that I shared with the new guy (a topic for another time). The point is, I had no time for self-reflection with regard to sexuality.
Fast forward to the following fall, I met and fell in love with my now husband, quickly and completely. I was 22. Since then, I haven’t really had much cause to consider or think about my sexual and romantic orientations. Fast forward to age 29, and here I am.
I’ve never been particularly secretive about my crushes and attraction to women. I talk about my crushes on women with my husband, my gay girl friends, and my guy friends regularly. It’s something I’ve never felt any shame about. Shame is not what’s taken me so long to get to this point. It’s repression. It’s socialization. It’s a lack of representation in the media. I assumed I was straight, that my feelings for women were “phases,” outliers in my otherwise straight existence, just like everyone else had, because that’s the default option. Sexuality is fluid, and experimentation is totally normal, but eventually most people choose a “side.” That’s the story we’re told.
My story picks up in late December of 2016, a few weeks after the “I could never go down on a girl” incident during which I’d clammed up (and no one noticed). I was sick with the flu over the holidays. I was looking for something to distract me from my nausea and my incapability to spend time with family in my gross state, and I discovered Skam. In a matter of days, I binged through all three seasons, and it became my favorite show ever. I became more attached to fictional characters than I’ve ever been (which is saying something for those of you who know my heart). The show’s target audience is Norwegian teenagers, but its themes of self-acceptance, internalized homophobia, mental illness, feminism, and friendship (plus many more) are universal. The most recent season follows the story of closeted Isak, who meets and falls in love with a bisexual (presumably), bipolar Even. As they learn to love and accept one another, they learn to love and accept themselves. It’s a portrayal of a realistic, soft, healthy relationship between Isak and Even. It’s something I’ve never seen before, and it was so... refreshing, clarifying, to see. It is incredibly realistic, beautiful, and moving, and it touched me. I became obsessed with this show and these boys.
As a total fangirl, I needed an outlet for this new love. Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t convince any of my IRL friends/family to watch a Norwegian show about teenagers accessible only through fan-made subtitled files on Google Drive. My husband got tired of me blathering on about the amazing editing, clever and moving soundtrack choices, and witty, subversive dialogue. So, I took to the internet. I found my way into the fandom on Tumblr. I met a bunch of young, gay (a catch-all term) as hell Skam fans, and I began talking to them. Each new person I met, I felt immediately connected to them. I felt at home among this group. They are incredibly kind and accepting. They are so far ahead of where I was at their age, in terms of knowing and accepting who they are. It makes me so proud and thrilled for them, and so glad they have each other. And at the same time, it makes me sad for myself when I was their age, and jealous that I didn’t have a similar outlet.
In the last few months, I’ve learned so much from Skam and them. I’ve made impactful, real friendships with people all over the world. They feel like my people, and I’ve come to realize, it’s because they are. Their struggles, and their futures, are a big part of the reason I feel compelled to put this out there.
So, here I am. Validating myself. Accepting myself. Taking my own advice - that I don’t have to be able to explain this to people who won’t understand in order for it to be true. I am Not Straight in 2017. I am Not Straight at age 30. I guess it doesn’t really matter. Then again, it really does matter.
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It said a lot about "Blue Bloods" what kind of show "Blue Bloods" is that for many seasons that the most recurring antagonist wasn't a serial killer or a mobster but an African American preacher. I know crime dramas usually lean right-wing, but that was just egregious. I honestly stopped watching because I got sick and tired of Frank *always* getting his way, and *always* being right and everybody else always being in the wrong.
I think I liked the fact that the reverend was a real person. I think since I agreed with him more than the main characters I thought the arc was interesting. Most crime shows set up a villain that can be killed and no one bats an eye. Blue bloods set up an antagonist that had more to say than the protagonist. I do understand it wasnt necessarily a good portrayal, but for a right leaning show it felt different, and interesting. PIus they have become so much more right wing since the trump era. Its interesting to see the effect he has had on all of pop culture since usually music is super political but this era its tv shows and movies.
There was an episode where Eddie got an African American partner who was normal for a few episodes. Then they revealed she steals from crime scenes and Jamie had to do something about it. Then replaced her with a white female partner, and since the actress is really busy we dont even get to see her that often. I think thats the most angry ive been at the show. They had the opportunity to an african american female police officer patrolling minority communities and showing how diversity in the police department can help mend the broken relationships, and instead they made her a criminal because thats what the old white women who watch the show want to see tom selleck and good white people rising up...
I agree with you on the Frank stuff though... I know the idea is he always does what is right and he does listen to other people (like his staff never his family) like in the last episode when he listened to Abigail but the character has gone from a leader who is trying his best in a difficult position to being his figure that can do no wrong and while before it seemed like he did care about the community now it seems like he only cares about himself and proving to the people that there is nothing wrong with the nypd that everything is perfect and they should just fuck off. if i had to pick something to describe his show currently it would be all the characters are blue lives matter activists who genuinely believe blm is the problem. IDK why i still watch, probably because i like watching shows with different perspectives than mine and I hate leaving a show without knowing how it ends... but this has become the fox news of tv shows and Im not sure how much longer ill watch
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