#great fuckin stuff - ANYWAY remembered what i actually wanted to say

[mifhortunach]

.

[shutupineedtothink]

More Moiraine & Lan (and the Bond) thoughts, because I really just can’t help myself.

Just thinking about how we know every Aes Sedai and Warder share the Bond, but we don’t see any other AS/Warder teams using it as a form of communication NEARLY as much as Moiraine and Lan do.

Like these mofos are having full conversations with head tilts and tiny eyebrow raises and 3 seconds of eye contact from the jump. Sometimes not even looking at each other. And it’s extra great if you’re a show only like me because you only realize it when you go back later after all the stuff with the Bond is explained in 1x04/1x05. Like I remember thinking when I was first watching the pilot ‘wow, these two are really in sync, clearly they’ve known each other a long time,’ but it’s so much more than that obviously.

Now, one easy explanation for this is that we’re just seeing them the most, they’re main characters, and s1 especially does a lot of work hyping up the Bond and how important it is so that we get the full impact of them being cut off later. Makes sense.

But… idk like even Alanna and Ihvon and Maksim, who are actually in a romantic relationship, don’t seem to prefer the Bond as a way to communicate. We even see them have their little diplomatic discussion before Ihvon goes to follow Tomas. It’s an actual conversation. Maksim even prefers the Bond masked, so I guess in that way they kind of have to talk to each other.

Verin and Tomas are pretty quiet in general, but still it’s not emphasized that they use the Bond to communicate that much. Perhaps this is also highlighted by Tomas’s advice to Lan that the Bond isn’t the only common language they share with their Aes Sedai.

Except for Moiraine and Lan, it’s like AT LEAST 80%. It’s the primary way they communicate. Because 1. they’re both so naturally reserved on the outside (but feel very deeply on the inside), and 2. I imagine it comes in handy to be extra good at it when you’re on the road searching for the Dragon Reborn and you don’t want everyone around you to know what you’re about.

Then there’s Stepin’s comment from s1 to Kerene, “Can you imagine their dinners?” Which is funny but also very telling. To all the other Aes Sedai and Warders, Moiraine and Lan seem pretty cold and distant, to everyone else and each other. But again, that’s by design to protect their mission. They’re just having conversations no one else can see, even other Bonded pairs. It’s like most AS and their Warders use the Bond as insurance, a fail safe even, to understand and communicate with each other, with normal human communication (i.e. TALKING) as the primary method. But for Moiraine and Lan it’s the other way around.

My POINT BEING, that this adds weight to their storyline in S2. Like they are REALLY struggling because on top of everything else, this fundamental piece of their relationship and communication is just gone. And it opens a door for Moiraine to push Lan away, when she NEVER would have been able to before, practically or emotionally. And he reels from her attacks because he’s just not as good at understanding her without the Bond, when he would have seen right through that shit before, just from feeling alone. So Tomas can say to him, you need to really listen, but 20 years of shared emotional mind reading is not that easy to bypass. You don’t learn normal person communication skills overnight. Certainly not when there’s this gaping hole in your head/heart where another person you probably knew better than yourself should be but isn’t.

Anyway, I think it just adds even more credence to why they’re both so lost throughout most of S2, especially Lan. And what makes them so badass with the Bond but so absolutely uncoordinated without it. And why every other Aes Sedai/Warder thinks they’re fuckin weird. And why we love them, because who doesn’t want to be so fundamentally understood like that? Who doesn’t want their own secret language with someone that no one else really gets, but that person gets you on a level so real it can’t be replaced? That’s what we’re all reaching for, and that’s what they have with each other. For better or worse.

[smoshidiot]

vidcon 2024 !

hi guys this is my rambly post abt my experience at vidcon this year if anyone wants to read abt it! overall i wanna say that it was absolutely incredible and i def wanna go back next yearr

DAY 1: check in! literally nothing youtube related happened this day but it was fun as hell to check out the venue and meet up with my friends

DAY 2: smosh meet and greet day. holy shit. in the morning was anthony's ISADW matpat panel and besties when i tell you i was worried he wouldn't be there until I SAW HIM WITH MY TWO EYES. but incredibly he does exist? and he DID show up to vidcon? the panel was such a blast and it was interesting to hear about how the past few months have been for matpat. it was also just cool as hell knowing the rest of smosh was waiting right behind the curtain 🥹 and we could see nicole off to the side enjoying the panel. also shout out to @smoshkidtv who i got to meet before the panel and is legit the greatest i love them sm ok ty

then, almost right after, there's a post on socials that's like "get to the M&G early if you want free essentials merch!" so ofc me and a few friends BOOK it up to the M&G line and are prepared to sit and wait for like 4h lmao. we pass the time by watching smosh the movie and it goes by surprisingly quickly. after being moved into the official queue it's really not that long before smosh shows up and the nerves HIT. luckily we did show up early enough for the merch (smh for 4h we better have lmaoo) and it was so cool to talk to some of the crew (kiana/erica) passing it out. then the whole smosh cast comes out. weirdly the FIRST person i saw was marcus lmao but it was great to see him (and his eyebrows) in person.

i was near the very front of the line so i really didn't even have that much time to prep before i went up with my bestie of all time @smoshmonker! but waaaa ok so we go up and anthony calls out the shirt i'm wearing bc it's a recreation of my fave 2006 catch em all shirt

he asks if i bought it from smosh.com and i go "i made it actually!" and he's like :000 and thinks it's really cool until spencer yells "DUPE" and they all get fake mad at me LMAO. i remember ian going "we're gonna sue your ass" and i'll cherish that forever. anyways then i introduce myself and say that i do art n shit and nearly forget to say my name. but holy shit guys... the second i go "my name is ana", i see ian and anthony LIGHT up 🥺 they immediately recognized me and seemed excited to see me, it was genuinely so surreal. i didn't get to talk to anthony much directly bc he was standing in the back but it looked like he WANTED to say smth to me and even that was wild. and ian was so fuckin sweet and complimentary abt my art. then i ask if we can do a friendship always wins highfive pose. ofc i ask if ian and anthony can reach each other even tho they're not standing right next to each other. bc quite frankly, what's the point of doing this pose if the besties aren't highfiving?

then the second pose was more of a surprise for @yourinterestisnotcringe hehe. we brought out a potato plush for ian to hold and he was too fuckin cute about it. he was absolutely charmed by the idea of the lil potato plush and i love this pose that he went for lmao

then as we're about to leave, ian surprises my by going "thank you for all of the cool art that you make!" and i'm just .. on fucking cloud 9. i go absolutely breathless for a moment when ian hecox, standing right in front of me, thanks me for the stuff that i make. i stutter out smth like "sorry but can i hug you?" and him being the sweetest man ever goes "absolutely!" and goes in for the hug 😭💕 it was the perfect hug and i'll forever have the mental image of his lil gold chain sparkling in the light.

then we go off to the side and @squig-s is there talking to erica and kiana again and ?? they introduce me to alé? who was so freakin cool and lovely and reached out to shake my hand. then to be quite honest we all leave the meet and greet and have a good fuckin cry bc we JUST MET SMOSH

DAY 3: panel day! we get there early as FUCK bc we have a Plan(tm) and need to be in the front row to execute it lmao. like 10 months ago we had the plan for a bunch of us to dress as that damn neighbor at vidcon and damn it, we WENT for it.

also here's ian and anthony (and damien lol) shouting us out at the beginning of the panel

the panel itself was a ton of fun! it was a live reading of reddit stories and one of them was NUTS. it was such a blast to receive a live update tbh. then RIGHT after the reddit panel ended, we had to book it upstairs to get seats for the smosh mouth panel.

I don't remember a ton from this one other than them talking about boobs for most of it. also !! krungle is returning!! i'm so fuckin excited i'd die for krungle i can't wait to have her back. also anthony was sitting on the ground off to the side of the panel and i made awkward eye contact w him a few times lol. i am also honestly bummed that ian wasn't the guest for this one, but spencer and angela were great and they really just goofed off for an hour, it was a fun time.

DAY 4: the last day of vidcon </3 there wasn't a ton on the schedule today regarding smosh, but i DID have a slot for the mari meet and greet so i made sure to go check that out and ?? holy shit ALL of OGSoG was there 🥺 i had actually met them before at a con years ago and it was so wild to see them again, i really didn't think i'd be able to. this meet and greet was SO much more chill than smosh just based on nerves. these 4 were honestly so sweet and the vibes were so fuckin goofy it was lovely ♡ also who's gonna tell joven that this isn't a heart

then we had the mythical kitchen panel! it was a lot of fun even tho i only rly knew trevor and josh oop. trevor was such a sweetheart and stayed after at the end to take some pics and i got one with him on my fuckin 3DS lmao. i love the crunch of this pic, it's one of my faves from the weekend tbh. also i pray to GOD that he wears this hoodie again. he looks so good in pink

but that's pretty much it! idk if anyone is even reading this so hi if u did ♡ it was such a magical week and i'm so so so fuckin grateful for it all

[icebrooding]

A non-comprehensive first word-vomit of my thoughts abt Janthir wilds in non-chronological order:

Poky is my son and if anything happens to him I will commit Crimes of a very bad nature. I also called he and Braham would be great friends even before it got mentioned as a possibility right at the end.

I really like what they've done with the Warclaw; not only is the new skin extremely cute but I've been having so much fun w/ it's skills. Boing boing boing.

This soundtrack fucks REALLY hard??? Like holy shit??

Isgarren soft boy story reveal (but I already knew he was soft from SotO anyway but this is probably the most explicit we've had about just how soft--)

Greer is gonna have a lot of people horny for him, I can just kinda feel it? If people want to fuck the bog queen, I can imagine people also want to fuck the sexy-voiced Titan.

The 'boss segments' sure felt like boss segments, holy shit. I had no real issues on the first Greer and Decima fights but the one at the end actually caused me a lot of issues. Not sure how, but it did.

I really love the first half of the expac being this kind of 'low stakes' feeling adventure (and really FEELING like a good adventure, the way the maps are designed and their scale making exploring them SO good ouegh), and then the latter half is this slowly ramping 'oh fuck, Titans', culminating in 'oh fuck. /another/ titan.'

I somehow REALLY really appreciate the 'we cannot do this we need to retreat' stuff. I really liked the one at the end, the Commander's hesitance before calling off the pursuit. Feels like they've really learned over the years that rushing in isn't in their (or anyone's) best interest.

I genuinely always thought Sorrow was gonna be a polar bear. Did not expect a grizzly, but appreciate the subversion of my expectations. Even after her reveal I'd expected the lowland appearance to be an illusion of some kind, but nah. Girl straight up grizzly. Gotta respect.

On that note, I did have a joke going on for a few months of 'we walk into the lowland kodan lands and just find her sitting amongst them like 'oh shit'' so this was pleasant for me lmao.

Sincerely curious on how things will go between her and Isgarren after that little catfight. I don't wanna see Dagda crushed by losing her again :sadcat: She's like the kid caught between a really bad divorce--

Can Lyhr finally meet Rand again--

Can Stoic Alder be my new dad? And can he please not die I cannot bear (HAH) if anything happens to him either ; _ ;

where is zojja

Mildly upset that we're shown not to really remember Dagonet. I REMEMBER YOU, BIG BRO :crycat:

on that note did his voice get deeper

I feel like the horror of the White Mantle came across really strongly, as someone who (still, damnit) hasn't gone far in GW1, reading the notes around Syntri really painted a really gruesome and horrific image of the sentiments at the time... it was upsetting, to say the least.

Fuck? Ether towers and Jade Constructs though--

I would have appreciated any warning from my friend abt how going into the water of Syntri was like reliving my least favourite parts of Subnautica all over again.

I'm just gonna pretend we didn't talk to Anise at the end of the story LMFAO. I did not like that, honestly.

I KNOW HE WAS MENTIONED AGES BEFORE BUT ISN'T IT FUNNY HAHA IN SOME WAY THAT MABON, VOICED BY LIAM O'BRIEN, HAS AN ALIAS FUCKIN' NAMED "OBRYN"

spear aesthetic fucks even if i suck at it

Caithe getting to sit on the fireplace is iconic. queen behaviour

look, if we're (MAYBE) going to the domain of anguish (maybe isgarren can scream enough to open a portal again for us) then can we finally just bring legavo there and go ham? i'm sure it'll be fine.

more thoughts at another point when i can formulate sentences

[lucius-morningstar]

Magic Happens?

Charlie goes to tell her dad the good news and learns something that might not be so great. While that happens Lucius decides to share a bit of news with the guys and Cherri. ----- Lucius: Alright drinks are on me, everyone. Drugs are optional but I ain't paying for em. Cherri: Fair enough, what are we celebrating Princey. Lucius: Let's just say this is more of a personal victory for me and I want to celebrate with some fuckers I know won't leave me blitzed out at the bar. Angel: Doesn't it usually take you guys a lot to get drunk. Lucius: My dad yes, mom she can hold her own, Charlie's a light weight and I've got a tolerance but it's hard to stop once I've started. Husk: So you've got a problem. Lucius: Hey Alky, don't judge you're as bad as me. Husk: I'd say worse if you didn't have a little bit of angelic blood to hedge your bets. Lucius: Fair. Angel: So why are you celebrating. Lucius: Been spending some much needed time with Clara and Carmilla didn't actually threaten to maim me this time. Still threatened me with a gun though so small victories. Cherri: That's a victory for you boy that's sad. Lucius: If you knew how often that woman threatened me you'd see it as a victory too. Angel: So Luci boy is settling down finally. Lucius: Do not call me Luci. Anyway, Charlie also suggested that I take you guys out to celebrate not only your hard work and how far you've all come but- Angel: Let me guess for how far her and Vaggie came- Lucius: Gross, don't make those jokes with me. Anyway I figured since we're celebrating, I'd bring you guys a treat. Husk: Oh yea and what's that? Lucius: I stopped by the Gluttony district and got my hands on some of bees good shit. Alcohol not drugs, Charlie told me that I was not to give you guys any drugs but never mentioned I couldn't encourage the alcohol and Bee's stuff hits you hard, it gives most hellborn a buzz so it should hit you sinners like a truck. So we'll do shots. Angel: Ooh nice, kinda got that golden angel blood ichor doesn't it. Lucius: I feel like it's intentional I nicknamed it heavenly honey though. Husky: Oddly accurate, this shit is sweet too. Lucius: She enjoys the sugar honestly, if you all end up wanting to go off and fuck around thats fine just make sure you're back at the hotel by morning or early afternoon. Deal? Husk, Angel & Cherri: Deal! * Lucius: Ugh.. Good fuckin hell.. Clara: Well it was indeed a good fuck in hell. Not that I can remember much. Lucius: Geez fuck- Wh-When did I get here. Clara: You snuck in last night smart one. Just be thankful my mom didn't hear. She would not have been amused by this. Lucius: Right right.. Eh she'll get over it. Did I bring that stuff here too? Clara: Yea and you insisted I'd try it. I'd be mad if it wasn't so good. Lucius: Bee makes good booze. Ugh, what time is it. Clara: A bit later then I'd like. So my mom might know you we're here. She's usually banging on my door if I'm not up past eleven. So it's almost one. Lucius: Shit.. I told Charlie I'd be back at the hotel before lunch. Clara: You mentioned that, then put your phone on do not disturb which shocked the fuck out of me. Lucius: Well I did more then shock the fuck out of you clearly. Clara: *Snorts* Yeah, you better get going though before my mom comes in here with her gun. Lucius: Yep, see you tomorrow though, right? Clara: You will. See ya Lucius. Lucius: Bye Gorgeous. *Quickly portals out of the room.* Clara: Ugh.. Mama is going to kill me, but it was worth it. * Lucius: Hey Charlie, sorry I seen you left me a lot of voice mails, not like yo-.. Woah what's with the face. Charlie: I uh-.. Found out something from dad and well I have to tell everyone together we we're just waiting on you. Lucius: Is it bad? Charlie: Well it's not good. Lucius: The baby okay? Charlie: Yeah but that's not about my baby exactly. Lucius: What do you mean? Charlie: Well...

[havikshoochiemama]

My Star Wars Acolyte rant >:(

This shit is not proofread LMAO it’s 5 am i’m mad leave me alone just me being the hater that i am 🤭

I originally wasn’t gonna talk about the Acolyte because clearly the show was just another emotionally immature shitty Disney cash grab with horribly written characters BUT DUDE i keep seeing ads and stuff on my tumblr NONSTOP and i’m actually sick of it .. most of you guys saw one Tumblr Sexyman and just went ham with that…We as a fandom need to stand up because Disney doesn’t care about star wars imma keep it a buck they just want to make their next mcu and they just greenlighting anything at this point

“oh but i like Andor” yeah that’s like what ever 10 shows they make they make one good one that’s not good 😭… anyways like i was saying they are literally pulling shit out their ass they are getting shit from the star wars legends that’s it’s own universe and putting it in…like excuse me ??? those books don’t follow the events of the movie so why would your show that allegedly takes place before the movies (I said allegedly because writers can’t even get characters ages right ) also i’m talking about that bs w the helmet that stops lightsabers… apparently it’s called cortosis from legends never once mentioned in any of the movies (i’m not watching them live action shows idgaf i like SOME of the animated ones) but they use it as a Mcguffin when they want bc they never built on this they just stole it from legends LMAOAA you just can’t do that  i’m literally about to pop a blood vessel 😭 i’m not watching that show again but let me critique the shit i do remember… also the “Gayest Star Wars we ever made” KEEP MY PEOPLE OUT YOUR SHITTY WORK !!! but after that man who’s to edgy for a name killed all her friends she “loved” she’s sees his face and is like wow 😍 literally thinkin with her pussy very hetro of you 💀 gah this show just pisses me off star war at its heart is a fuckin space opera and i dont think disney understands that. i literally fell in love with star wars back when i played battlefront and watched all the movies read as many comics and books as i could get my hands on and seeing something you love become something you hate is fuckin sick and crazy it’s started with me from the force awakens that movie is horrible you bitches say pretty graphics and said oh good movie 😍 NO NO it literally was just a new Hope setting everything that luke did back making him basically useless LMAO and they butchered the old characters to help the new ones which are really not that great 💀 i’m still mad that them used Finn as a token black person 😐 i could rewrite the force awakens better same characters and all and yk actually do something better (joking i would if Disney paid me to)LMAO also i hate kylo ren don’t get me wrong i love my cry baby tantrum throwing villains but he’s nawt it LMAO i’m sorry this is a rant about the shitty show YALL NOT READY FOR ME TO SPEAK ON THE FORCE AWAKENS 😭

yeah i hate that show i literally don’t wanna talk about it anymore heart emoji 😝 remember when people said the Phantom Menace was bad yeah…  at least it have character development atleast it had good world building atleast the universe was establish and yk i liked it but the prequel’s have always been my favorite clone wars literally came out on my birth year >:3 it was made for me 🤭 but i’m just a whore for world building and lore yeah… umm idk to me start wats ended with the return of the Jedi 🗣️

dont @ me idc this is my opinion and if you want to continue meat riding corporate greed that literally is ruining my fave franchise pop off if you liked the show i don’t care good for you (your def new gen star wars fan)

also Darth Plagueis ?? LMAO WHAT they just doing anything i see and why where all the jedis fuckin morons … okay ? and your main character sucked you don’t get the satisfaction of character arcs like “her joining the dark side” if there was no character building to begin with like ? it not to late Disney just burn it get it over with. Also it’s all so Fuckin boring LMAO also i can talk shit about character development and arcs all i want bc i’m writing my own novel and i’ve did a lot of research even tho this whole rant is a mess it’s 5 in the morning give ur girl a break i just really like my silly space movie okay 🥹 i literally spent a band on the Star Wars encyclopedia leave me alone

Um if you wanna argue my comments are open <3 i love arguing i’m somewhat of a scorpio myself

[turtlemagnum]

ok, gonna try my hand at compiling my thoughts on fist of the north star first. here goes nothing! warning, this post is gonna be Long, open the read more at your own peril.

i think the best way to go about this might be roughly chronologically, so i'll start at the start. i think it's interesting how very early on, the conceit is "there is but one practitioner of hokuto shinken and but one practitioner of nanto seiken, and they are sworn to never fight lest the world fall into Chaos..." and that degrades very quickly past the first arc. i will say that overall, the shin arc is a very fun, enjoyable and relatively quick watch, with mostly interesting fights, decent character designs and a mostly compelling narrative. i think one of the standout parts, to me, was when shin was actually defending yuria from his former goons while they tried to revolt. it definitely added a certain texture to shin's character where he had previously been just 100% straightforwardly the bad guy, instead of being 99% that. also there's the devil rebirth fight and that time ken killed The Entire United States Military in the same episode that he punched a wrecking ball so hard that it shattered like a christmas ornament. now that i think about it, the leader guy of the former US military was actually probably the first time we see nanto seiken used by someone who isn't shin, and i remember it being kind of a big deal that shin had violated their sacred traditions to such an extent, y'know? how quickly that went out the window

something that's been consistently good in the series was the music. the fight music, the ambient stuff, and especially the openings. all 3 of the openings are S tier, but i will say they never quite top ai wo torimodose, it's just that fucking bombastic and fun, y'know? at the same time i wouldn't stab somebody for thinking silent survivor or TOUGH BOY are better, they're all fuckin great even if in different ways at time. honestly i'm mostly surprised that an anime from back then had more than one opening, much less 3. from what i can tell that shit wasn't nearly as common back then as it was today, so i think it speaks to how deeply popular the series was back in its heyday. hell, OG dragon ball got just one and im pretty sure DBZ barely got two. i hope one day i'll be able to make music as stellar as the hnk soundtrack, really.

something that bugged me about early fist of the north star is how every fucking woman looked like yuria, just sometimes with different hair. this definitely got better as the series went on, and i have no idea if this was a problem in the manga too, but by god is it glaring. thankfully that seems to clear up ironically after mamiya is introduced, who is explicitly portrayed to be the spitting image of yuria. i think the first time i noticed that women finally look like unique people and Not Just Yuria was that one martial artist who fought with roses and shit. side note but i genuinely loved her design, the show got really sexist about her being a Femoid who fights but setting aside that i really loved her. i should learn to draw her. anyways, i like how the series improved over time in that regard, at the very least

one of my biggest problems in the series starts with shin's death. i remember when shin first died and he burst out crying, i had assumed it was just a fucked up manipulation tactic like the yuria doll, but apparently we the audience were expected to take it seriously? and like, this began a longrunning trend of a villain being like, absolutely irredeemably evil, like puppy crusher machine, baby eating, torment nexus evil, and then at the end they're all like "i just wanted 2 play on de play groundt...." and we're expected to take that seriously???? like, i'm all for moral nuance and complexity, and there are times where this whole shtick was done more tolerably than others, but in my opinion they never actually redeem somebody in a way that's satisfying. a redemption arc has to be, y'know, a fucking arc. and even if you're trying to do a redemption = death thing, the thing that makes that trope work is that they die doing something, y'know, actually good???? the reason anakin's redemption worked (aside from actually being foreshadowed pretty blatantly) was because he actually saved lukes life and died in the process. he did a good thing and died because of it. meanwhile shin, he still fought ken right up until the end and acted like nothing was out of the ordinary until he was literally seconds from dying. at least raoh had it built up to a little bit, like jesus fucking christ.

now, i will say that the arc from roughly jagi's introduction to the first fight with raoh is the best fist of the north star gets. if you're thinking about watching the show but don't wanna commit to 150ish episodes, i'd recommend watching from the beginning right up until the end of the first raoh fight. i feel like that's still be a pretty compelling 50 or so episodes, and it has literally all the best bits within it. honestly kinda sad that the show peaks approximately 1/3 of the way through it, but what can you do. anyways, enough backhanded compliments; jagi is probably the best all around villain in this series. he's an absolute bastard, he's one of the first characters in the entire show to just straight up pull a normal gun on people, and he inspires one of the most cathartic moments in the entire show. this is around when we first get into like, the soap opera shit, right? first it's a bit contrived but still cool as hell that rei is a new nanto seiken practitioner, aside from That One Scene he fills the deuteragonist role pretty nicely and is honestly the gold standard by which the rest of the series' guys can be judged off of. he's no ein or juza, but to be fair basically nobody is.

anyways like, that cathartic moment i was talking about. it was just after jagi admitted to ken, taunting him with the fact that he's actually the reason shin kidnapped yuria, and he's the reason yuria died. this, alongside the "actually the main character has 3 secret brothers that we just havent mentioned until now, and theyre ALSO hokuto shinken practitioners" is very like. soap opera/bad fanfic-y, right? but it works because in execution, it's still pulled off well, and we're still nowhere near the bullshit horizon we'd skyrocket past by the end of the series. so, when ken's finally killing jagi, there's a moment where he says something to the effect of "this is for yuria, and...." and you just know what he's about to say next, but he hesitates, and when he finally says it it's so damn satisfying, "and for me!" and the thing is that it's a deeply compelling moment for a variety of reasons.

so, the thing with fist of the north star is that, in a lot of ways, it's very analogous to a superman story where the question is almost never "will the main character lose this fight" because he's so insanely fucking broken, right? the real question is, "will this character protect those he cares about in time", that's where the tension comes from, and it comes from the fact that he is in fact a hero. that's how you write a compelling overpowered protagonist, you give him either people to love or just a love and respect for all life in general and so that always gives you stakes. i get that to a lot of people, the question of "will ken save this nameless chicken farmer?" isn't a very compelling one. but to me, it is, because he cares so deeply about it that i start caring about it. in the words of aphex twin, "i care because you do".

so, the thing is up until now ken is a very selfless character. it's to such an exaggerated degree that it becomes fairly evident that he has very little regard for his own safety or wellbeing. in the first arc, aside from helping whoever he happens across he's motivated exclusively by rescuing yuria. every fight he has up to this point isn't even for himself, really, and there's something almost sad about that. he doesn't allow himself to have needs. so it's actually very satisfying to see this strong, principled man admit that he has in fact been hurt, and that he's not just doing good for those around him but for himself as well. and it's a very natural character progression that you don't even realize is happening but also makes complete sense. there's something deeply compelling to me about a man so devoted to helping others that he has to actively learn how to live for himself, y'know? i feel like that's a relatable struggle to a lot of people, really

i will say i have one gripe about the jagi fight, and it's that it's almost perfect except for the fact that jagi dies laughing. at first it's seeming like he's gonna die in agonizing misery like he deserves, and it's satisfying well up until the point he starts to laugh on the way out. and like, i understand why it was done that way, and i'm pretty sure it was meant to be haunting, but it honestly just felt like it undercut an otherwise great moment, y'know? i want that motherfucker suffering god damnit, its what he deserves.

there's not much to say about the arc up until the first raoh fight, really. toki is really fucking cool, i love me my apocalypse karate jesus boy, and the fight with that uighur guy was really good setting aside the weird racial thing of having a character that's of a certain ethnicity and just naming them that ethnicity. like, imagine if there was just a guy in a show named Jew, and he's canonically supposed to be jewish but it's never really addressed, like that'd be weird right

i will say, the raoh fight was fucking precious, easily the best part of the entire series. it has this amazing and complex rhythm to it, where every character who tries to fight raoh ends up trying their own self sacrificial bullshit move only to be thwarted by the next guy, until there's essentially like 3 or 4 different fights going on at the same time. it's also nice seeing ken get straight up hard countered for once, like straight up he gets just as fucked up as raoh does and it makes raoh that much cooler of a villain. up to this point, ken is like, essentially invincible. he's basically post apocalypse aikido jesus, poking people so hard that their disabilities are cured and punching people so hard that their entire bodies explode like he's got the bloody mess perk. so to see someone even break even with him is a damn impressive thing, it instantly establishes your villain credentials y'know?

the thing about raoh is that i love him, very much, but i very much hate how he was handled near the end. the fights with him after the first one are very eh, the penultimate one is close to satisfying but then there's that whole "and then he randomly got away with yuria and now he's gone!!!" bullshit, and i get what the final one was going for and it's kind of built up to but i still didn't exactly like it, y'know? for what it's worth, raoh's redemption arc was probably the most well set up in the entire series, but it still wasn't actually y'know. good. like, the way we're introduced to him is by him being Ken-Oh, King of Fists, and he's this fucking tyrant who recruits people to be his slaves by giving them the ultimatum of "willingly brand yourself as my property and then be my slave for the rest of your short life or get burnt to death", and we're shown that his goons are inches away from burning lin, a literal baby child, to death. and we're supposed to just buy that he's actually not that bad at the end???

like, something i wish this series would just fucking do would be to have their villains just fucking own their villainy right up till the end. they do it before the end!!! one of the first bits with shin has him literally monologuing about how cool & good it is to be evil before busting out one of the greatest evil laughs i've ever heard from a voice actor in any media ever. the best villains are pretty consistently That kind of evil, like the kind of evil that'd make the average disney executive go "hey maybe we can chill a bit out here real quick", and that'd be wonderful if they were unrepentant about it!! it feels really forced!!! imagine if like, frieza, before the bitter end, went all "hmm, maybe i do regret blowing up planets and spending my days being space hitler...." that wouldn't've fucking worked!!! there is, in fact, such an intense degree of evil in fiction that it just doesn't make sense for them to immediately go "hmm yeah i'm a good guy now. right before i die. how about that :)". it's deeply unsatisfying every fucking time, like my god

there's something to be said about the queer coding in this show. i remember in one of the earlier episodes, there was this bear dressed as a BDSM cop and his two goons were scantily clad twinks, and internally i went "haha that's kinda gay" before he straight up kisses random dudes before he kills them. and it hit me like "oh. he IS gay..." and it's like. i don't think that's even the gayest thing in the series, really. there's that one scene where two fang clan dudes are checking out rei and the one with the binoculars is like "woah, this guy's real pretty!" and the other dude is all "well, not as pretty as me right bro???". and then there's just yuda, in general. relatively uninteresting villain, but him dying in rei's arms admitting that his motivation in trying to kill him was that he was the only other man who he found beautiful, like. i don't think there's a heterosexual way to interpret that, really! and that's even setting aside the hideous makeup he's always in! and that's not even mentioning yuria's brother wanting to "see what she(yuria) saw in him (ken)" and as a consequence, wanting to die by his hands. also ein is a bisexual icon who canonically thinks ken has a pretty face and i love that for him

the next bit after yuda was, i believe, souther and shu. now, i think souther might've been the only villain to outright defeat ken up to this point, and i think there's something that could've been interesting about that if souther just wasn't like, aggressively fucking boring. i think he's also the introduction to ki blasts, so that's cool, but the most interesting bits about the souther arc were the bits with shu. shu was a homie, very speedwagon-esque in terms of vibes if not functionality, i liked watching him at work. i will say that shu was probably the point where nanto seiken was wearing out its welcome, we're at like 4 or 5 guys whose main deal was nanto seiken and their entire fighting style could essentially boil down to "cut em into bits" and the only real variation was the shape of the bits people were cut into. i think this might've been the prevailing attitude at the time too, because they definitely pivot away from nanto seiken after this in favor of other, usually dumber martial arts

i will say that this series is, usually, very good about respecting character deaths. with one piss stained exception, characters pretty much always die and stay dead forever, meanwhile i feel like in series less committed to death mattering would've still had toki or rei around by the end of it. the exception is, of course, yuria. it was to give yuria and ken a happy ending, at least for a little while, and honestly while i kinda hate the concept the execution was still fairly competent so i didn't outright dislike it overall. i think it's stupid and retcon-y and at times feels like yet another excuse to make shin seem like less of a bad guy, but it still felt nice to know that yuria got the spend the last few years of her life with the man she loved

i liked ryuga for what he was, mostly just because he wasn't yet another fucking nanto seiken user. he's probably about on par with the elemental guys that'd go on to die to raoh, juza excluded. which brings me to, the man who is tied for Best Boy, juza of the clouds! i.e., my current profile pic. i like juza. he's probably the best thing to come from the series post the Peak arc of jagi to raoh. one of my first criticisms of the characters in this show was something to the effect of "look, if you're a handsome, muscular guy who's also ungodly fucking powerful in terms of martial arts in a world where martial arts is fucking magic, And you're in a post apocalypse? all i'm saying is that you could have basically any girl you wanted CONSENSUALLY, like seriously shin just ditch yuria and build yourself a harem of all the women that look exactly like her". and juza did exactly that, and i love him for it. i'd like to think i'd be like juza, in his universe, not quite the top of the totem pole in terms of raw power but still well above every normal person, saving women from being abused and letting them join my harem if they want, living in a fucking castle with a pool/bathing house? that's the dream, man. that's the fucking dream.

now, that's setting aside juza's whole "wanting to fuck his sister" thing. like, to be fair, yuria's his half sister, but seriously dude what the fuck is it with everyone in this show and yuria. ken and all 3 of his brothers were into her, juza was into her, shin was into her, if there is a man in this show and he knows yuria there's like an 80% chance that he wants her. what's the fucking appeal? like yeah, she's pretty, sure, but so are all the women in this show!!! personally i'd rather date like, a martial artist lady who could actually defend herself, but that could just be me. well, that's like the only thing wrong about juza to me, and honestly while that's a pretty significant flaw you can still say he's literally one thing away from being flawless, so that's pretty cool. god i love him

now's about when we get into hokuto no ken 2, where the main difference is that lin and bat are actually useful now and i'm pretty sure lin wants to fuck kenshiro now, which still weirds me the fuck out. my other favorite character in this show, ein, is the most american fucker on earth. like literally he wears an american flag suit, has blonde hair and blue eyes, is a fucking bounty hunter, and literally rides around on a killdozer driven by what i'm pretty sure is a slave. literally cannot get more american than that, i just hope that the slave guy is like a former bandit or something. little known fact about me, one of my biggest turn ons in a piece of fiction is when a character is a bounty hunter. something about bounty hunters just fuckin gets my brain goin, y'know? i remember when i played the GTA online bounty hunter quests, they were straight up some of the most fun i've had with GTAV and i still think i'd enjoy playing a game where that's the main mechanic. also, at first glance he's a wife guy, but it turns out he's a loving father which makes him even better. it's even acknowledged in universe that he's cool as hell!!! i love him dearly

viceroy jakoh is a decent villain. he's enjoyable to see die, at least. we also meet falco, who's a homie, and honestly i think it's pretty badass that he's a canonically disabled character who's shown to be strong and capable and yet is still clearly held back by his disability. he's a bit like a proto edward elric, in that regard. honestly one of the most sharp inhale inducing scenes of the show was when jakoh swept his prosthetic out from under him and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him, frankly that was an egregious way to make a villain hateable and it was honestly very effective in that regard. gento koken is ok i guess. at least it's not nanto seiken. honestly that whole "celestial emperor" thing felt rather contrived, but eh.

ok so, around this point in the show is when one of its worst aspects really starts to become apparent. so like, it starts out relatively normally when ken is shown to have a few brothers that we didnt know about. it's not that absurd, it makes some amount of sense, the hokuto brothers remain some of the best characters in the entire fucking show. and now all of a sudden, yuria has a brother we didnt know about, and a half brother, and now we meet raoh and ken's biological bigger brothers and after a certain point it just feels like bad self insert fanfic, y'know? and that's what kaioh is to me, it feels like somebody thought raoh was cool and thought "heh, what if i made my own OC that's raoh but even BIGGER and STRONGER and MORE EVIL", like that's what kaioh feels like to me. and then ken's bio brother is just ok, i already forgot his name despite it not being that long since i watched the final arc

but the thing is that kaioh is just like, arguably the most cartoonishly evil villain out of the entire fucking series, seemingly completely unrepentant, literally regularly talks about existing in the "Dark World", straight up kills his own sister just to make ken's brother wanna kill ken, the dude is just bitter and evil the whole way down, so when he pulls that "i just want 2 play on the played ground" bullshit it rings especially hollow even by the standards of the show. god, fuck kaioh, he's just poorly executed overall

the biggest part of hnk2 that i actually liked was shachi. i liked how he was essentially a stupid kid that lucked into being taught unearthly powers basically on par with hokuto shinken, and as such got a big head over it even though at his core he was still a good kid. hokuto ryuken sure felt fuckin contrived, it kinda felt like the writer(s?) noticed how the hokuto brothers were some of the best, most interesting characters in in the original series, and were just like "yeah let's do that but again", and while i guess it doesn't not work it also doesn't work all that well either. hokuto ryuken sounds cool though, even if "north star lapis lazuli fist" doesn't.

another thing i liked about the last parts of the show were that, while definitely not martial art wizards, bat and lin were still deeply competent fighters and put up a consistently good fight against Real Fucking Fighters, which you really wouldn't expect from bat's cowardly ass growing up. i will say that i always thought lin would make a good successor to hokuto shinken, but that might just be wishful thinking. there is a quite prevalent undercurrent of misogyny in this series, and while i understand that it wasn't exactly uncommon in the 80s, i gotta say that i still feel like they could've done better. i dunno

all of this is to say that i liked fist of the north star, very very much. i'm not sure i could recommend it without a laundry list of caveats and disclaimers, but i will say that if my interminable bitching hasn't put you off of it, it's probably for you. it's got a lot of good fights, it scratches that little kid part of your brain that thinks it's so cool to see a guy get kicked in the dick so hard that his entire body explodes, it has great music and mostly competent writing. if you think about it too hard, you will cry, so don't do that, just go along for buronson's wild ride and fuckin enjoy yourself. i probably wouldn't recommend it to someone who's not like, already an anime fan and already likes shonen though. it feels very of its genre, if that makes sense. which i guess it should, given how foundational to shonen in its modern forms as it was

[readingismyhobby24]

HI FAITH HOW ARE YOU DOING TODAY??

so at work i had to reorganize a library, which was a lot of just pulling books off shelves and slapping stickers on em, and the sheer amount of romance books in that library was ALARMING. so I was fighting for my life listening to a really fuckin funny podcast while i pulled all these books off the shelves with frankly hilarious tho rather uncomfortable cover art, and then I realized this lady was just standing behind me like: 🧍‍♀️and I almost SCREAMED, she scared me to death

what did she want you may ask? absolutely nothing. she just blinked at me and walked away. i didn’t hear her come up behind me AT ALL

anyways it got me thinking, as most things do, about LU, and I know in my heart Four is the one who just stands there very quietly in an unnerving way, and people don’t hear him comin’ up behind them. Like they turn around and he’s just: 👁️👁️

remember to drink some water and get food if ya need it 🫶

- crazylittlejester

HI JES!! IM DOING GOOD!!! How are you doing?

Oh my goodness, that's so funny. Stuff like that happens to me all the time, and I think I lose a good five years of my life every time. And then I'm also the person that gives people heart attacks on accident. Like, I've accidentally scared people waaayyyy too many times and I feel so bad every time. I've had friends say they are going to buy me some sort of bell just so I could make noise when I walked over 😭😂

I also feel like this would be Four. 1000%. I love Four so much.

Also, I am well hydrated and fed right now, thank you for reminding me. I do actually and genuinely use your reminders. They are very helpful. I hope you remember to take care of yourself as well 🫶

Hope you have a great rest of your day/night my friend!!! hope you are feeling better as well 🩵🩵🩵

@crazylittlejester

[mieczyhale]

fumbled and stumbled my way through watching the third season of heartstopper. i did a lot of pausing and muting (i had captions on, as of halfway through the first episode anyway, so i didn't miss anything conversation-wise, it's just hard sometimes to listen to certain things and reading it can be easier) (note this only applies to short things like voicemails or tv show / movie captions) i don't think i really skipped over any bits, if i did they were so minimal and rare i don't remember lol i wanted to see it all, i just can't handle a lot of the things that i knew were going to be in the season so i had to try and get through it in whatever ways would make it easier

part of me feels like that means i didn't really watch it, or like.. idk.. my brain is just trying to make me feel like i need to rewatch it "properly" but i don't think i can handle it without the pausing and muting and moment or two of skipping. i really don't think that i can. and that should be okay right?? to adapt the way i watch something so i can deal with it??

it was really good, to nobody's surprise, just like the previous two seasons. it was accurate, the acting was phenomenal, the music fit, it was just great all around.

i just.. can't get through it like a normal person. not when so much of it is so personal and so close. even the parts i did listen to were really hard to get through and i cried.

and it's not like using captions and not listening doesn't count as watching. it's okay for people who can't hear so why should it be any different for me to do it?? i say - trying to get my brain to shut the actual fuck up

ugggghghdfskjhlsdeljkhfgs

it's good. great! and i'm glad i watched it. really glad.

but idk how much of it i'm going to be able to watch a second time like.. ever. i'm sure i'll watch some reaction channels, the ones who do like.. the whole reaction but only post some of it y'know?? and then you have to join their patreon to watch the full thing?? those are a bit easier to get through. and i really do wanna see other people's reactions to some of the stuff. gays watching gays reacting to gays is like.. it's always a good time.

watch the new season if you haven't. fuck it - watch the show if you haven't. it's a fuckin masterpiece. but also please read the graphic novels. before or after you watch the show. either way. the show sticks like glue to the source material (part of what made me so anxious to watch this season. knowing what was coming) and the graphic novels are AMAZING. and the art style is cute as fuck.

and then after you do that check out the novellas: this winter and nick & charlie. oh and solitaire-

listen. read the whole universe alice oseman has blessed us with, watch the show, and then come and be emotionally compromised with me about it

it's so worth it

[thetobiroppofan]

one piece rant #1: the gay evil pronoun

im nervous to start this off cause what if some random incel comes in saying "erm snort actually this is wrong" like go kiss my ass basement dweller I am a 15 year old trans boy do not fw me yu dcikhead :(

anyways I wanna talk abt doflamingo today

Doflamingo's honestly a great villain, in my opinion. This is WAYY different than like.. a great person. He serves as a good driving force for the plot and I think he like is honestly kinda well-written. I mean, the guy's morals and stuff are downright despicable as expected of a villain. I don't know how to add gifs I forogt

ok so I figured it out woohoo anyways

Starting off, his backstory is honestly fuckin' sad as hell understandably, I mean obviously he's still a dickhead I mean like one of the first panels of him going down there was "where are the slaves lets buy some"

little ugly fuck........... anyways

Quick explanation for anyone reading who a. doesn't know his backstory or b. just wants to read; Doflamingo's family was originally celestial dragons (a whole society 'above' the rest of civilization, generally they're hated by the public but their word goes above anyone elses, even the Marines at times, so people have to keep their shit together) but his father decided to move down to the real world as regular nobles.

yeah so that was a bad idea.

his family was borderline fuckin JUMPED over their former status as world nobles, and were forced into poverty, his mom died, and yada yada he shot and killed his own dad and joined the pirate life. I'm just rereading one piece again after a 2 month break, on alabasta, so details might be off do NOT take my word for granted chat

but like you get the gist, former noble goes down to civilization, is tortured, gets inducted into the pirate life, etc

the reason he was inducted was through trebol, since he saw young doffy and went "yeah that kids got potential" and not in the drake way

Trebol's the guy on the left, the uglier one

yeah so basically over the course of dressrosa (The arc where doflamingos the main villain), we learn more tidbits about his actions like how he took the head of his father back up to the home of the world nobles and asked to rejoin the celestial dragons (he was obviously rejected) and ykw I forgot to mention: doflamingo has a BROTHER. his name is Rosinante, and he's a great guy but he ends up working for doflamingo (spoiler alert: he's not actually there to be a good brother he is a spy) but over the course of the backstory, Doflamingo's newest member, a young Trafalgar d. water law

yeah he's lowk ugly as a kid but it doesn't change much when he grows up

side note: I love how ugly some op kids are like its just funny anyways this isn't abt law that's a whole other rant

anyways so law joins the donquixote pirates (Doflamingo named it after his last name, donquixote) and I'll talk more abt law's stuff later in another rant along with Rosinante (doflamingos brother) however all you need to know ATM in this rant is 1. Rosinante and Law leave to find a cure for laws disease+rosi discovered law has 'The Will of D.' (I'll need to explain that later wont I) 2. Rosinante already ate a devil fruit and if u weren't aware already u cant eat two dfs or else you DIE

happy father son bonding moment

oh btw

During their time out, Rosinante and Law get a call from doflamingo telling them to come back so Rosinante can eat this devil fruit doffy planned to steal called the ope-ope no mi (remember what I told u sister.) so he can cure law

yeah so

since rosinantes a marine he stops that, and hides law in a chest after forcefeeding him the devil fruit and skipskip andddd oh no

OH FUCK!!!!!!!!! ROSINANTE DIED.

oh btw you see the unshaded bright white chest RIGHT behind him

you'll never guess who's hiding there.

tragedy strikes.

but this ain't abt two tragic found family LOSERS (i don't mean this I love them both guys please I have a law Funko and plush I'm a mother) this is abt evil incarnate right here in a bright pink feathery coat and fuckass glasses

anywyas law goes on the run finds his crew this ain't abt him we're focusing back on doffy

so like skipping allat stuff we are now in the time when doflamingo says "fuck it" and decides oh yeah lets take over

an entire kingdom

thats what normal pirates do anyways.

So using his devil fruit the Ito Ito No Mi (which allows him to manipulate strings, allowing him to be like spiderman and also be a puppeteer which btw that reflects his char so much like gyattdamn!) he demands a beri sum of like 10 billion for this king to have his nation left alone before he like takes over him, puppeteering him to slaughter his own people before coming to the rescue yadadyadyaydyaydyaydaydysyay8dy8

so yeah

he takes over dressrosa, actingg as a 'hero' and he and his crew rule over the kingdom now

I don't think I've talked abt sugar yet but she can turn people into toys and form contracts, and that's what she basicallyy did with people who either a. doflamingo didn't like or b. spoke out against the pink feathered fuck

thats part 1 for now mainly just a backstory dump

i am insane

thanks for reading chat this has been a Quinn tm rant

[spoopydooblr]

My King Will Be Kind Chapter 1 / Kendall Roy x OC

an: hiiiiiiiii first time posting here ughhhh anyways enjoy this kendall fic bc i binged succession with my roommate

pairing: Kendall Roy x Original Female Character

tw: mentions of drug use, cursing

Stella fixed her black Valentino dress in the bathroom mirror of the club. She looked okay.  Not bad, not great.  It was hour three at the club, and Stella was really over it.  The bass felt like it was pumping through the walls. She needed a break from the craziness. It was usually like this, work all week and stupid events like this all weekend. And this weekend was her friend's birthday.  

Not that she didn't love her friends—or the free drinks.  And the guys could be fun...sometimes.  Tonight they partied with some semi-professional baseball players who were okay at best.  One even tried to follow her into the bathroom, but she declined.  

Even now, four movies and two shows under her belt, Stella struggled to a guy that actually gave a fuck.  Her most recent role, a side character in HBO's Delirium, was by-far her biggest break.  They had just wrapped season two, so she was taking some time in New York to work on her writing.  By dumb luck a studio was interested in her writing and wanted some pilots.  After spending the last few years in Los Angeles, Stella decided to come back to the east coast for a bit.  

So here she was now, walking back from the bathroom of some club, trying to think of the best excuse to leave the party and get the fuck home.  Stella weaved through the VIP line, arriving at the private section where her friends were.  The baseball guys were still evident, but two other men--in very expensive suits--stood with the group.  She made her way over, grabbing a drink from the waiter.  It was time to find the birthday girl and say goodbye.  Stella spied her friend from across the room, but was interrupted by one of the suit-men.  She immediately recognized him.

"Roman Roy." He stuck out his hand.  

Roman Roy.  Son of media bigwig Logan Roy.  Stella knew exactly who he was.�� Not that she was a big fan of business stuff, but she knew all about ATN and their hateful broadcasting.  She knew all about his billionaire family and their insane antics.  

She shook his hand reluctantly.

"So you're a big deal I hear?" He laughed. "Well I've never heard of you."

"I've been in a few movies—" She started, but is again interrupted by him.

"Argh, actress, never mind." Roman scoffed at her and made his way to another one of her friends.

Stella was just drunk enough to feel pretty embarrassed. Normally, she would brush something like this off, but he was an important person in the city.  The Roy's could make or break her career if they really wanted to.  They controlled the media.  Hell, they were the media.  

"Hey. I'm sorry about my brother." A deep voice said from her side. "He's a fuck."

Stella looked at the man who was now in front of her. The first thing she noticed was how tired he looked.  The second was that he was Kendall Roy.  And he was just as hot in person.  

"Oh, um, it's okay."

"I'm Kendall, by the way." He held out his hand. He had a fancy ring on his pinkie finger.

"Stella."

"Matchstick Funeral." He said.

Stella couldn't help but light up. "Yes!"

It was one of her first roles. She played Jude Law's estranged daughter. That was three years ago, now.

"It's my uh, ex-wife's favorite movie."

Stella laughs, accidentally. "Sorry, um, wow, I feel like a lot of people don't remember that film."

"It's so fuckin good."

"God, thank you, wow."

They stood there for a minute.

Stella decided to play dumb. "So what do you do?"

Kendall laughed nervously. "Uh—"

Stella batted her eyelashes, then laughed, "I'm kidding, jeez!"

"Oh," Kendall smiled. "I suppose you're familiar."

"With the sexual abuse on the cruises?" She continues. "Or your rap song?"

Kendall scoffs.

"Before I was, um, like this." Stella gets quieter. "I loved celebrities and all that. I read like, every magazine." It was true, she loved stealing her mother's People Magazine as a kid.  

"Ah, I'm surprised you're even talking to me, then."

"Me too."

"Do you wanna uh, go outside?"

She was still a little unsure about him, but she wasn't really a fan of crowds and honestly really needed to smoke.

"Yeah, sure."

Kendall led her to a private balcony. Stella had never been to this part of the club, even with her own notoriety.

"Do you smoke?" Kendall revealed a pack of American Spirit yellow.

"Well," Stella rummaged through her Prada purse. "Not nicotine." She pulled out a joint.

"Need a light?" Kendall asked, moving towards her. Stella put the joint in her mouth, leaning over to Kendall's lighter. She pulled away quickly after, the scene becoming more and more intimate.

This was the same guy that yelled "Fuck the Patriarchy" to paparazzi last year. And he could be her dad. He probably wasn't that old, but he had to be a good ten years older. At least.  She remembered the tabloid photos of him snorting cocaine off of a strippers boobs.  Didn't he have a couple of kids, too?

Stella took a long drag of her joint.

"Can I get a hit?" Kendall stated, and it's as if they're teenagers hiding weed from their parents.

She nodded, handing him the joint.  He didn't look like he was on anything else, so she obliged.  

He took a long drag and looked her up and down.  She felt objectified, but it kind of turned her on.  Kendall probably knew that.  

"I bought a fucking company today."

"What?"

"Me and my siblings.  We bought Pierce."  She kind of knew what he was talking about, based on the Twitter trending page from that morning.  #Roy was third on the page.  

Stella laughed,  "Congrats, Kendall."  She touched his arm, mentally noting to stop drinking and smoking so much.  It was crazy to her, all this.  He casually dropped billions of dollars and goes to the club.  

"If I called a car right now, would you want to uh, go to my place?"

Stella couldn't believe it. Kendall fucking Roy.

"I don't really do that sort of thing, I'm sorry. It's like an image thing, and I'm so young I can't—"

"Of course." He looked genuinely disappointed.

Stella cursed internally as she whispered, "do you want my number?"

"What?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "You heard me."

"Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it again." He smirked.

[pesterloglog]

Davepetasprite^2, Jade Harley

Act 6, page 8003-8007

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < JADE!!!!!

JADE: d-

JADE: davesprite???

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < B33

JADE: youre alive!

JADE: and... very different :o

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < its davepeta actually

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and yeah i am different!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < got this whole other person mixed up in me

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < her name was nepeta

JADE: ohh...

JADE: wow!!!

JADE: im so happy to see you, even if you have gone through some uh... pretty big changes!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah!

JADE: so what are you doing here?

JADE: are you asleep too?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nah im awake

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and like "actually here" and stuff

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < guess i just decided to fly away up to the sun like a fucking piece of garbage after all

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < like i always said i would

JADE: haha

JADE: you did?

JADE: i dont remember that

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah i said stuff like that sometimes

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < jade i used to be fairly depressed

JADE: yeah...

JADE: well i DO remember that

JADE: you seem to be in pretty high spirits now though :)

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yes im doing fucking phenomeownal

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but fur real im not actually here to visit this sun

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i flew here as a point of reference to get my bearings

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < im actually on my way to go fight lord english

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < have you s33n him

JADE: no

JADE: ive spent the last... however long, hiding from him actually

JADE: with calliope

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < who

JADE: shes my new friend!

JADE: well, i guess one of two new friends by that name, technically

JADE: one of them is presumably back with our friends now

JADE: the other just... quite literally flew away up to the sun

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < like a fucking piece of garbage???

JADE: NO :P

JADE: she is quite dignified and aloof as a matter of fact

JADE: i sincerely doubt she has ever done ANYTHING like a piece of garbage

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < ok heheheh

JADE: anyway if you want to find him

JADE: i would guess all you have to do is follow his trail of destruction

JADE: see the cracks?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < oh yeah

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < good point

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < guess i could sniff him out

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < except i dont know what he smells like

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but i guess i do know what some people who will be NEAR him smell like

JADE: like who?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < vwiskers, for one!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < also supposedly a staggering dick ton of ghosts

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < ill just smell around for where the ghosts are all at

JADE: sounds like a good plan!

JADE: jeez dave i...

JADE: or davepeta rather

JADE: i missed you so much :(

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < awwww

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < sorry harley

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < id say i missed you too but it was barely a day ago i last saw you

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < this version of me i mean

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i made it all the way through the thr33 year voyage with you

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < guess the one who made the trip with you wasnt so lucky huh

JADE: no

JADE: he and john died not long after we departed

JADE: i was so lonely

JADE: but i dont feel too bad now that i know it all worked out, and their deaths were just part of something bigger going on

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < right johns absurd time hoppy mission

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so fuckin glad some non dave dude could finally grab the reins on the time travel bs

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and i guess im purrsonally so grateful to him because without his succession of handwavey dorkstunts i wouldnt have become davepeta which is literally the best thing either of us has ever b33n!

JADE: thats great!

JADE: its so nice to see youre happy now

JADE: even if technically i never got to be a part of that journey for you

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but you did

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < ive got a lot of different dave memories in me and theyre all part of who i am now

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < including the memories you contributed to

JADE: oh...

JADE: cool!

JADE: so what were things like in the timeline youre from?

JADE: how was our trip together?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < it was good mostly

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < kinda turbulent i guess

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but that was mostly on account of me being a miserable bird douche

JADE: haha

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < oh also we dated for a while

JADE: WHAT? :O

JADE: omg

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < it was nice for a while but then i put a stop to that

JADE: why?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < s33 again: bird douche

JADE: wow

JADE: i cant believe i missed this :(

JADE: even if it didnt go that well

JADE: its still something i would have gladly taken over the loneliness of that trip

JADE: i cant even say how much i thought about you both

JADE: and to hear that you and i actually...

JADE: *sniff*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < B??

JADE: im sorry dave...

JADE: davepeta...

JADE: i guess calliope is right, this must be part of my path

JADE: as a space player... someone who "falls back" as she said

JADE: maybe being pushed aside by fate, and like

JADE: being deprived of important people and experiences

JADE: no matter how painful it is, or how much you feel like you need them

JADE: i guess thats just how it goes for us

JADE: i think i never appreciated how much of a burden your aspect was to you

JADE: but i think im starting to get it now

JADE: it just took a long time to figure out what mine really meant

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so THATS what space means?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < bein lonely??

JADE: thats a bit of an oversimplification!

JADE: but i think that can be one of the results of gaining a deeper understanding of it

JADE: or becoming connected to it more...

JADE: i dunno, this stuff is all pretty mysterious :p

JADE: i dont have it all figured out yet obviously

JADE: i just feel pretty sad that as i get closer to understanding my abilities and true nature

JADE: it apparently means being deprived of some important experiences

JADE: like i get closer to my aspect, but further away from everyone i love, and further from...

JADE: feeling like a person?

JADE: its just a really empty feeling after a while

JADE: empty like...

JADE: space i guess

JADE: heh

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but you werent actually deprived of important experiences

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < stuff like us dating and johns stupid birthday parties and playing shitty ghostbuster mmos

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < that stuff all happened to you, its just you dont have access to the memories

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < they didnt happen to shape this particular version of yourself

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but they all played a role in helping like "greater jade" grow if that makes sense

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < everything that ever happens to every version of you is an important part of your ultimate self... like a superceding bodyless and timeless persona that crosses the boundaries of paradox space and unlike god tiers or bubble ghosts or whatever, it really IS immortal

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but in your physical form there are all these partitions in your mind that prevent you from remembering any of that which makes your existence f33l totally linear

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < which is probably for the best!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in a regular body s33ing all that would be too overwhelming

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in an advanced sprite form like mine tho its fine

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i guess the same spritey magic that makes it possible to suddenly understand so much is also what makes it possible to make it bearable all at once

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < not even just bearable actually sorta liberating and cool

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and after it sinks in for a while you start coming to this understanding of a greater self

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe i "got it" quicker though because of the two people i was and their aspects

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < understanding heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nepeta never got to make much headway with her aspect but shes finally gettin the chance

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the time aspect is all about running into different versions of yourself so you kinda get confronted with it in a really literal way that can be disturbing

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < obviously davesprite stuggled with that too, but now its fine

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hes fr33 from worrying about it all and what it means for his place in reality

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < because he can s33 now all his selves have relevance in painting the full picture of who he truly is

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < im not COMPLETELY sure because im not like some sort of ASPECT MASTER but

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < my avian slash feline intuition tells me that all roads will lead you here eventually

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < gaining the d33pest possible understanding of any aspect will bring you to the same final conclusion about your ultimate self

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so maybe thats starting to happen for you too

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the space aspect sounds like a hard and lonely road to travel... i think they probably all are

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but youre gettin there jade

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you are doing great and im so proud of you!

JADE: :')

JADE: thanks davepeta

JADE: i really cant believe it

JADE: you sound so different... but youre still dave in a way

JADE: its hard to say how happy it makes me to see you doing well

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah likewise!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i mean assuming you are doing well

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < ARE you???

JADE: i... think so

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hey what are you doing out here anyway

JADE: im asleep

JADE: i want to go join our friends and help out

JADE: but im not supposed to wake up :\

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < why not

JADE: i dunno

JADE: im just not!

JADE: calliope said i was too strong or something

JADE: but she also said i should have "fun" so

JADE: i dunno

JADE: i guess im just waiting around for the right moment

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nah thats dumb

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you should be able to do whatever you want

JADE: really?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < well at least she was right about the having fun part

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe thats what she meant??

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe she was leaving it up to you in a mysterious way

JADE: leaving what up to me?

JADE: the decision to wake up?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < sure why not

JADE: but i dont know how!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i do

JADE: .....

[valla-chan]

copying this from my own tags cause actually i want to talk about this on the post after all.

Warning: Long text! feel free to skip!

I feel like having one parent of one kind and one of the other made me this fucking mess that i am now, in a way. It was never explicit or outright but it Never Needed To Be.

I would get harassed for my nails and hair and mannerisms and be made the butt of jokes that i didnt understand by one parent, and then the other would tell me im great the way i am. i guess also there was some kind of ongoing speculation between them as to what my sexuality was?? i do remember that.

It really created this strong, unrelenting feeling that i have a very narrow path to tread before people begin speculating on the different ways that i'm actually somehow fucked up or weird in an unlovable way, but as long as i tread lightly then i can toe the line.

of course, my life has improved since then because they split when i was a preteen (#aayyyy) but it did last long enough to do damage...

(otherwise how else do you explain trying to always "lose people's trail on you", when you feel like theyre onto stuff going on in your head? Trying to maintain the image people have of you, so they dont fall apart at how disgusting you actually are, or instead start drawing uncomfortable connections that will lead to them to that realization anyway? “Finding out”? Finding out what? Who the fuck knows by now! but theyre gonna find me out! and then theyre gonna hate me!)

Results?

For at least a decade and a half everyone has been “Going to Find It Out” about me and i have no fucking clue what that means anymore. because ive already come out and transitioned n shit, and ive been fine for it. that was like my biggest secret for a while. But that feeling of people i care about "finding out" is real enough to keep me from doing anything! (other than hrt cause i woulda literally have offed myself if i had to live even 5 more years as a guy... so thank fuck for the support yknow lol cause otherwise i would have figured out some DIY shit under the table by then. but other, more surface level pursuits still feel off the table, because they are not motivated by literal death if i dont do them in time.)

But its like... the damage is already done.

ive got a supportive family. even the worst of most of them have come around.

But those mental patterns are Mine now. Those thoughts are not theirs to take back anymore.

I have internalized those years of uncomfortable treatment into my own mind and how i work. thats on me now, and im trying to explore and help myself now and its hard.

So make sure to constantly tell your kids that you would love them even if they turned into a fuckin slug. And more importantly, that you accept them and promote them for everything they want to stand for even if you dont agree. Cause MAN, even for maybe not intending to do anything wrong、that shit influenced and ruined every interaction and decision in my life since! Theres no taking that back, even if done on accident through just being a goober parent influenced by current social norms! So imagine doing that level of harm on purpose!

You will create a kid that doesnt have to wonder on the extent of the bounds of how much they will be loved, they will KNOW those bounds. They will feel those bounds in every decision they make and every choice they consider. They will know FOR SURE that they will not be loved for themselves、and that will be on YOU.

and a word of advice, love their potential too... love their choices and their visions and the people they look up to. Cause people change. They are designed to.

you cant just love someone for who they are now and not those other things、or they will be stuck in trying to be that person for life.

And to anyone who reads this who knows me, hi! If this says anything about me as a person, then good! It should!

I think that my mid 20s are going to be some of the most intense self reflection ive had yet, and hopefully that actually goes somewhere unlike how it never does. so forgive, me voices and memories, for becoming someone who i like and who the people i hate don't.

[detectiveapparatiagreen]

Chapter 1: The Hesperides

My best friend (@ozarkgobbler) is editing this and she caught a lot of really stupid mistakes, so thank you for not letting make an idiot of myself on the internet!!! Anyway, this is the next chapter of my thingy. I'd love to hear what you want/don't want to happen, or if you think the main character is annoying or not. Thanks for reading!

Note: I did some editing, so now instead of being a dodgy place, the Hesperides is more swanky and uptight. I think it fits better, so just know I changed it from the original.

..............................................................................................................................

I remember watching Sweeny Todd once and thinking to myself: if this isn't peak Tim Burton. Black and white and goth all over. But, standing at the entrance to the park, I see he's not too far off about London. It's pretty bleak. The cobblestone streets are caked with filth, and mice are rampant. Now, would I say it's a hole in the world like a great black pit? I mean, that's pretty harsh.

What's weirding me out is the clothes, more than anything. Those who are out and about this early are dressed to the nines, it seems, with stiff collars and petticoats and bonnets. No skinny jeans or sweatpants? Not even that one white guy wearing jorts no matter the weather? Suspicious. Street lamps line the sidewalk, with actual candles inside of them (although they must have been put out by now, since none are burning). A horse-drawn carriage comes across into view, trotting down the street. Weird, is it like a tourist-y taxi service? There's a boy, probably early teens, standing on the corner with a jacket reading a newspaper and smoking from a pipe. I approach him casually.

"Heya, what'cha doing?" I try to keep my language calm. I don't want to freak the kid out, being a stranger approaching him, but he is actually smoking. Are his parents around here somewhere? He looks up and sets the paper down, taking the pipe from his mouth.

"A paper's two pence," he remarks enthusiastically, holding out his hand. Oh buddy, when was the last time you washed your hands? Dirt is caked under his fingernails and in the lines of his hands. It takes a second for my mind to get over the hygiene and I shake my head in disbelief.

"Did you say two pence?" I think that's like… two pennies or something, in UK currency. There's no way a newspaper costs so little.

"Yes ma'am. Bes' paper in London," he asserts like it was a line he's said many times before.

"Cool. Do your parent's know you're smoking? That stuff's bad for you," I mention, trying to put on my adult voice and get back to the matter at hand. I don't think it works, as the kid scrunches up his nose like I said something stupid.

"Wha'cha mean? You batty or somethin' lady? Get lost or buy a paper!" he exclaims, putting the pipe back in his mouth and crossing his arms as he sits on the stack of papers, eyeing me with an annoyed glare.

"Look, I don't want to get you in trouble, but smoking is very dangerous," I attempt again, and the kid shakes his head in disbelief.

"You my mum or somethin'?"

I am not getting chewed out by a pre-teen right now. "Look bub, all I'm saying is that when you're thirty five and have the fuckin' black lung and ten different types of cancer, don't go crying and wishing someone would've told you that smoking is bad for your health."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, and I sigh in reply. Where do kids get the audacity to talk to grown-ups with all the sass? I would've never done this as a child. "Anyway, can you tell me where I am?"

"Mayfair, are you daft?" He asks like it's obvious.

"No, I'm just lost," I explain.

"Two pence for directions."

"I don't have British money."

At this he looks at first with mild disgust, then an odd curiosity. "American money, then?"

"Yeah."

"Lemme see."

"Hell no," I reply, holding my purse away from him. "I don't trust gremlins that smoke."

He stands up and tries to reach for my purse. I reach around him and grab a paper while he jumps, pulling my satchel behind my back so he can't reach it. "Hey, me paper!"

"I'll give it back, this is important," I correct, raising my eyebrows to say, 'Bet you wish I was nicer again, huh? Nah, that ship sailed. I look at the date: April 24th, 1884. Bullshit. "Hey, what's up with this?"

"Wot do ya mean?" He snatches the paper away from me.

"I mean why does the year say 1884? Is it a weird typo or something?"

"Lady, you are batty, It is 1884!" he states like it's obvious, and I mean…

Okay, so, the cobblestone streets, the paper being suspiciously cheap, the fancy dress clothes, the carriage. It makes sense that it would be 1884. However, logically, there's no fucking way. I mean, I'm still a little fuzzy on… pretty much everything, but that has to be at least a century before I was even born. There's no way this is like a holiday or something where the entirety of the capital of England pretends they're back in the 1800's, so…

Yeah, I got nothing. I pretty much just have to play along until I figure out what the hell is going on. I need to blend in until I find Doctor-Fucking Who or Marty McFly. Stop with the pop culture references, you're annoying me. Okay, humor is my coping mechanism, firstly, and secondly, you are my inner monologue, so we're the same person. Yeah, but now you sound crazy.

I shake my head to get rid of the intrusive thoughts and look around. Smog above the rooftops that blend into the cumulonimbus clouds, the smell of stale pee wafting around but getting stronger when facing towards the houses, and then in the street there's a pile of horse dung just sitting there that I didn't notice before. Rubbing my eyes to give my brain a moment to process it, I turn back to the newspaper boy. If I give him one of my pennies, will that fuck up the timeline? What choice do I have? I mean, I could not buy a paper, but I need to know what the H is going on.

"Can I borrow that for a minute if I let you see an American penny?"

"The paper?" The boy clarifies, and I nod. The wheels in his head turn as he mulls over my proposition. "Fine."

Snapping open my coin purse, I dig around for a penny, and hand it to him. He ogles it and I pick up the newspaper. The headlines are mostly political (but not comprehensible from an outsider's view— what is a Tori?) and some information about horse races. I flip the page and blink at what I read:

Wanted: Assistant Detective

Pay: £ 5 per case basis

Qualifications: Good planner, quick study, hearty conversationalist, dry humor.

If Interested: Seek Madea Thorne at The Hesperides

"What's the Hespierides?" I ask, sounding out the word.

"A pub near here," the boy explains. There's a special place in hell for whoever decided to name a bar something that hard to say. Imagine saying it drunk. It sounds kind of promising though. I look back to the newsie, who's stares at the penny then looks to me with a disenchanted face. "'S just a coin, innit?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I agree, and hold my hand back for it. He returns it and grabs the paper, tucking it under his arm. "Do you know where the Hesperides is?"

"It's that way—" he turns and points down the street, then cocks his head to the side. "Then you go thattaway—"

"Can you take me there?"

"You daft?" He turns back to me. "I can't leave the papers!"

"No need to be rude, young man," I scold, and he scrunches up his mouth. "What street do I turn on?"

"Regent street. You be careful, miss."

"Why's that?"

"The Hesperides is a swanky place, it is. I wouldn't be surprised if you got thrown out, if you take my meaning."

"Oh, great," I sigh. I mean, there's not much else I can do at this point, right? Maybe I look bad, but if I'm meeting someone there for a job then we could at least go somewhere else. Being with a detective, maybe they've seen something strange or have a theory as to what's going on. As far as my options go:

Get a job as a detective's assistant, which seems pretty cool. See if I can glean anything weird around London in terms of time-travelers.

See a doctor and talk about how I think I'm from the future, get sent to an insane asylum, and get lobotomized.

Go to the police and talk about how I think I'm from the future, get sent to an insane asylum, and get lobotomized.

…?

Go to Iceland and become a goat? There it is again, using humor as a coping mechanism.  Shut up

Seems pretty straight-forward. I hold out my hand to the kid for a fist bump and he seems confused. I clench my other hand and show him what to do. "It's an American thing, like this."

He punches the air in front of him with excitement, and I properly fist bump him. "There you go, attaboy."

He smiles, then looks down at the pipe he was smoking.

"You seem like a bright kid, I think it would be a shame if you got hurt later on in life because you made poor decisions now. You should stop smoking," I encourage, readjusting my satchel. He shrugs.

"Nah, what do you know anyway?" He argues. Does this kid like me or not? Like, we shared a fist bump, dude.

"Alright, little man, but I warned you." I say ominously, widening my eyes dramatically for effect. He rolls his eyes and I smile a little bit. Although he's a pesky squirt, he gives off pretty good little brother vibes. "What street am I turning on again?"

"Regent!" He replies, then scrunches up his nose. "You know, you never paid for the directions."

"Next time I see you I'll let you hold a quarter," I promise, winking slyly as I carry on. The boy looks unimpressed.

"You's a batty lady and a cheapskate!" He calls after me.

"Watch your mouth before I call your mother," I threaten, which presumably does the trick as he doesn't say anything back. I head down the street and listen as a clock chimes somewhere in the distance, yet resonates with all the matter around me. Dong! One, I count, trying to find the sign for 'Regent Street', but not seeing one yet. Dong! Two, I just need to walk a little while longer. My feet ache from my trek in the forest. I'm beginning to notice bug bites on my arms and the backs of my shins. Dong! Three. The guy at the park said it was five thirty earlier, so it's probably around six, right? Dong! Four. A black bird caws and flies down from one of the rooftops, landing down on the sidewalk and hopping over to one of the buildings. Dong! Five. It pecks at a couple blades of grass in between the stones of the road. Upon finding nothing, it begins to take flight again. Dong! That's six.

The sign for Regent Street is a simple pole on the side of the road with a wooden slate on it in the shape of an arrow pointing left and right. Another horse-and-buggy comes into view and I wave to the driver, unsure which way to turn.

"Care for a ride, miss? Just a quid if it's not too far," he explains, slowing the horse down. My feet are killing me, but I still have no usable money.

"No, thank you. Can you tell me which way the…" Fuck, I forgot the name of the place. "It sounds kinda Greek, starts with an H. Hesperides?"

"Aye, ma'am. The Hesperides is just down thattaway—" he points to my left, "Though, looking the way you do, I doubt you would have much business there."

"I'm just meeting someone!," I explain. Geez, this must be a pretty high-end place. I doubt a bar is going to be open so soon, I think as I reach the adjacent sidewalk, but continue along anyway. I could just wait outside. Does the UK have laws against loitering? A couple people exit through the buildings lining the road, two women and a man all from different doors, but only a couple moments apart from each other. One of the women in a gray dress shakes out an umbrella and then uses it as a cane to help her get down the steps as well as grabbing the bannister and creeping down slowly. The man holds the door open impatiently, then a little scottish terrier trots out happily. I can't help but smile at how cute the little guy is, hopping down the steps of his house and then waiting for his owner to lock the door behind him. It seems like the houses and the stores are mixed in together, with little apartments smushed between store signs for hats or deli meats.

The Hesperides, on the other hand, is a stand alone building with a wide window at the front, showing a wide array of tables and booths, and a liquor bar on the right hand side. Oddly enough, there's patrons inside, I count four of them. Two men at the counter, talking to the waiter about something, and then a couple sitting in a booth. Either they serve breakfast here, or they're alcoholics. I enter cautiously and the bartender nods in a greeting. I force a smile, though I'm sure it comes off as timid, and head over to the counter.

"What can I get you?" He asks when he walks to meet me. His accent is different from the man at the park; more posh.

"I'm actually looking for someone. Madea Thorne? She posted a wanted ad in the paper."

"Ah, looking for a little bit of adventure?" He winked, then leaned away from the counter. "She's a regular here. I'll give her a call and tell you're waiting."

"Thank you," I express, and he nods and walks over to the wall where an old timey telephone is attached. He picks up the receiver and I can't help but smile at the memory of home phones attached to the wall back in my time. Oh no, I'm going to be one of those old people that goes 'Back in my day…' aren't I? I try to act normal, but I doubt I can. My clothes are covered in grime, I have no usable money, I have no idea how I got to the country, let alone this time period. But, getting a job seems like a stable start. I'll have time to freak out and scream into a pillow when I have a roof over my head.

When the bartender comes back he pours a drink and sets it on the counter in front of me. "I don't have any money, I'm sorry," I explain.

"You look like you need it," he replies, and nods to the glass. I take it and smell, my face contorting wildly at the sharp odor of ethanol. "Not a big drinker?"

"Not at six o'clock in the morning," I defend, but down the drink anyway. It tastes awful, honestly, like drinking nail polish remover. Still, I'm not in a position to turn away hospitality.

"That's a girl!" He encourages when I set the glass down wincing. "There's a bathroom in the back, you can clean yourself up."

He walks away then with one of the bottles and heads over to another customer, refilling their glass and chatting lightly. I get up and head over to "the back", I guess, and find a swanky hallway with an organized stockroom and a clean bathroom. Dang, even the toilets look nice. Color me impressed I close the door and turn to the mirror.

Holy shit I look awful. There's scratches and dried mud on my face, my white blouse is soggy and stained, and my skirt is nearly ripped to shreds at the bottom. My hair has three or four twigs and leaves tangled in, and is frayed out. If I had spent a whole night headbanging to Aerosmith I wouldn't have this much frizz and chaos.

I approach the sink and begin to wash my face. All the grime sticks to my face at first, but with resilience and determination I manage to get my face looking semi-normal again. The clothes are a lost cause, but there's no help for that now. I wash my arms in case I scraped against any poison ivy or something dangerous, and sigh. Still look like shit. Thanks, you too. Same person, dumbass.

I finally am able to dry myself off with the raggedy towels in the bathroom, and stare at myself in the mirror. I've seen my face many times before, every day, but today something feels different. Not look different, I still have all the same physical attributes, but it feels like a different person is living underneath my skin. And that's called body dysmorphia. I literally traveled back in time over a hundred years. I think that might be it. Maybe a little body dysmorphia. Ugh, fine… maybe a little.

Exiting the bathroom I head back to the front of the bar, and the bartender makes eye contact and points to one of the booths. I see the back of a woman with short hair in the booth, facing away from me.

There's Madea. Time to not fuck this up.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #148

Have you ever seen an alligator? Yes, both in the zoo and wild.

When you first wake up do you check your cellular device? Yes, because I'll wanna know what time it is.

How well do you think you’d... work out, in a Christian school? Well this depends; my last college was actually a Christian college, but they didn't push any sort of doctrine onto students; I loved the school, even, they were great people. HOWEVER, if I was pressured into a religion by a school (isn't that illegal, anyway?), I'd get kicked out real fuckin fast.

Do you like Kanye West? Nope, not as a musician and DEFINITELY not as a person.

Do you have any lockets? No, I've always kinda wanted one though, haha.

Do you make kissy faces in pictures? ugh no I'd rather you just shoot me

Do you know your social security number (or equivalent) off by heart? At this moment, I do, but I very often forget the first three numbers.

Do you know a Stephen? I don't.

Green or purple? Purple.

Have you ever watched a meteor shower? No, I wish!!!

Has religion ever come between you and somebody? Yes. It's especially the reason I'm not friends with Mini anymore, because due to her faith, she was trans/homophobic and also extremely pro-life. Her selling pro-life stickers and stuff following the overturning of Roe v. Wade was the final fucking straw, like congrats for benefiting from women having their fucking lives ruined.

Ever have an ultra-sound performed on you? What was it for? Yes, something about my liver as a teenager, I don't remember the details. Everything was fine.

How long has your favorite animal been your favorite animal? Since 2005 when Meerkat Manor came out; I was nine.

When was the last time you spoke to your mom? Lil while ago in the kitchen.

Do you have an Instagram? I have three, one being a personal one and the other two for different types of photography.

If so how many posts do you have? None have a whole lot, but I don't care at all to count.

Can you juggle? Absolutely not, never been able to.

What’s your favorite color combination? Probably black and gold.

Have you ever seen your favorite animal in real life? Only once at the zoo in 5th grade. :( They moved them somewhere else afterwards.

Does your cat purr really loud? (if you have a cat) Haha yes, Girt refers to his louder purring as "lawnmowering" and it's so accurate.

What’s your mom’s name? Donna.

Do you have multiple friends with the same name? Not really "multiple," no. The only case where name confusion happens sometimes is when me or mom and Girt's family say "Ashley," because both myself and Girt have an older sister named Ashley. We kinda just have to use context clues to know which one, but even then there have been instances of not realizing the other Ashley was the subject.

Have you ever gotten up in the middle of the night just to talk to someone? No, but someone has done this for me, and I'm going to be pained for my entire life that I never got to hug and thank her.

Do you watch The Simpsons or any other cartoons? No.

What's your favorite kind of jam/jelly? Grape.

What have you last been diagnosed with? Hypothyroidism, officially, following some blood tests after being taken off my old thyroid med to get a baseline; it's apparently majorly severe, which explains a WHOLE fuckin lot. I'm on a different (and supposedly more effective) med now and will get more tests later to hopefully see it stabilize.

What was the last restaurant you ate at? Red Robin, for Mother's Day.

Do you believe in psychic ability? Absolutely not and it's infuriating that people are willing to scam generally vulnerable people like that. So-called "mediums" are even worse.

When did you last have pizza delivered? It's been a good while. I've been craving pizza actually, but I'm avoiding even suggesting it as best I can, especially after meeting my nutritionist and having fresh motivation to eat better.

What's your favorite decoration in your place of residence? I'm not sure, we have quite a lot of stuff up, especially in the living room.

Have you ever held a chicken? I know I've held a chick, but never an adult.

Are you hard to please? No.

What’s your least favorite genre of TV show? I hate those shows like Maury or Jerry Springer shit, stuff that puts people's private lives on display for ridicule and likewise purposes.

What’s your least favorite genre of music? Probably country. I'm not into rap either, but at least sometimes the non-vocals are fun or interesting.

What physical traits have you inherited from your father? Idk, nothing that is extremely obvious, at least to me. I'm pretty sure Dad was born dirty blonde though, and I was too, but his hair turned black and mine brown.

How about your mother? Height and general weight, but she's still smaller than me, especially post-chemo. Our skin is also similar, both in paleness and also freckling, at least on my arms. She has it more widespread and obvious than I do.

Which friend of yours has the prettiest, most unique name? I have always thought Alon was a beautiful name. I've never met or known another person with it.

When it comes to nose piercings, do you prefer a ring or stud? Studs.

Does your job have any restrictions on piercings and tattoos? What are they? I'm unemployed, and while I know there's plenty of people who would call it petty, I wouldn't take a job that perpetuated the "tattoos and piercings are unprofessional" shit.

Do you want or have your belly button pierced? It's not and never has been; if I had a certain kind of body, I'd absolutely get it done, but for some reason I'm really weird about me personally getting one at my size, despite the fact I'd cheer seeing another woman my size getting it done. I'm just very uncomfortable drawing attention to my abdomen.

Ever been in a physical fight? How did it go? Nope.

Do you like swimming? Do you have a pool? I like swimming a lot actually, I love being in water and even more I love the sound of it, I like watching light on it... but I don't swim a lot, partially because I hate getting changed out of wet bathing suits (and I actually wear swimming pants too because I don't want to show my legs, and THEY'RE the worst getting off), but also we don't have a pool. Growing up we did, but at this house and the last one, we didn't.

Is anyone you know racist or sexist? How do you feel about it? Oh certainly, especially here in the south; you see racism more, but both are fucking awful and I openly think you're fucking garbage if you hold prejudices like these.

Do you like mint-flavored gum? Yep.

If you house with your parents, do you pay rent to live at home? Why or why not? Do you know if your parents will ever make you pay rent? If so, when? I'm unemployed, so no. Even whenever I do get a job, I'm doubtful Mom would ask me to, but I'm immediately contributing whether she likes it or not.

Ever have sex outside of a relationship? No, that's not for me.

If a taken person pursued you and you were interested, would you do anything with them? No, I'm not going to be someone's second choice.

If you had a hot cousin, would you have sexual relations with them? Jesus Christ, no. Incest is majorly fucking gross to me.

Have your exes gotten better looking since you dated them? I don't know; I haven't seen most since we dated. I've seen a single picture of Jason in more recent times, in which he had full facial hair, but it was a candid photo at an angle so I couldn't really digest how different he really looked.

How often do you expect your SO to talk to you (either through texting, phone calls, etc)? I would be concerned if he didn't message me for an entire day, because we generally talk quite a bit throughout every day. I'd worry something was wrong.

How tall do you stand? Haha I found out the other day at the doctor I'm exactly 5'4.6'', so that's why I hear 5'4'' from some people and 5'5'' from others.

How many people are in your family? I consider my immediate/most base "family" to be my parents, two full-blooded sisters (I just don't see/interact with the halves enough... though I wish I did), my older sister's three children, and Girt, his sister, her son, and Girt's mom. Oh, and I guess Kim too, Dad's wife, but she will NEVER be what my biological mom is to me; I don't even call her "Mom" or anything of the sort, she's just Kim. AND THE PETS!!! Roman, Venus, and Cookie are all absolutely family in my eyes, and even Girt's dog Charlie that I haven't seen THAT many times is family to me.

What color is your keyboard? Black, but the keys light up red.

Do you have a laptop or a desktop? Laptop, it's a lot more convenient imo.

What were you doing at midnight last night? I'm pretty sure Girt left right around that time, but I was nearly asleep so am not totally sure.

What woke you up this morning? At some point my body did naturally, and I just barely dragged myself out of bed to go take my thyroid med (I have to take it at least 30 minutes before eating and my other meds), and then I didn't wake back up until Mom got me up for my psychiatry appointment.

Are you picky about who you give your number to? Oh for sure, I barely have any contacts in my phone.

Are you afraid of roller coasters? Yes, very.

Do you know anyone who suffers from depression? Yes, myself among MANY other people.

[TW: DRUG USE] Have you ever injected a drug? No, not into that whatsoever.

Have you ever fallen asleep on someone? Definitely as a kid, as well as on Jason and Girt.

Of all your exes, which one is your least favorite? Sara.

Do you prefer to be cuddled or kissed? Depends on the mood; I'd always be up for cuddling Girt though, while I don't always want to kiss, but on the other hand there are cases where I don't just want to cuddle, either.

Your most recent ex says they still love you. You say… lol no she doesn't, this isn't a situation I can even picture.

Who was your first boy/girlfriend? Aaron was the first guy with the title, but Jason was definitely my first real significant other.

How did your first kiss happen? We were playfighting on his bed, he pinned me, so I kissed him.

Where did you meet the last person you were in a car with? She gave birth to me.

When was the last time you had a box of chocolates? What kind were they? Valentine's Day, from Girt. They were different flavors and fillings.

Of all your relatives & close friends, whose birthday is closest to yours? My youngest niece's, I think.

Did you have a cake on your last birthday? What kind? No actually, I wanted donuts instead.

Where do you think your best friend(s) is right now? He should be at home, unless he had to go out for something today.

What is your central philosophy in life? To act with love and that love is something worth fighting for, and that is in all forms, not just romantic.

What moral code do you follow and why? Treat others how I'd want them to treat me, and to never, ever hurt/kill someone unless in very literal self-defense.

What is the person you are most dependent on (your dad, the welfare office, your personal maid, your seeing-eye-dog, your mailman)? My mom. I feel like her kid that never truly grew up, and I mean that negatively. She never asked for a child that would always be a parasite on her.

What expletives do you use in surprise or irritation (swears, gasps, yowza, etc)? "Jesus Christ" and "fuck" happen the most I think, but sometimes "shit" or "god(fucking)damn" happen.

What are the five worst things possible to happen to you? Depression and mental illness as a whole + the suicidal ideation that comes with it, a traumatic breakup, way too many hospitalizations that didn't benefit me, my parents' divorce (in terms of how I handled it, it NEEEEEEEDED to happen), and honestly I think the muscle atrophy in my legs.

What is the worst you’ve ever been injured or sick (broken arm, cancer, hang nail)? A wicked stomach virus that had me puking relentlessly, I'm talkin' to where you're barely getting bile out and your abs are in agony.

What object(s) do you like to keep near you? My phone, more than anything else. I tend to like to have a drink of some sort too, I drink (not alcohol, just in general) A LOT.

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? My dad.

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not so sure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

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

Oh, you loved this man. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

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

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

“I thought he was cool before.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

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

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

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s true. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I kinda do—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

epi-epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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