#one’s pretty good at singing and the other is so-so

[senzasord]

More spoiler thoughts on the allegory

I want to tread very carefully around this because it is a serious topic, but some of the subtler things are occurring to me about the Palestine-allegory in the episode.

Kid - the person planning the terrorist act is literally named Kid, and is explicitly explained to have been named this because his mother was killed before she could name him. I think how the episode delivered this was kind of clumsy, but I think it was a powerful choice to have this character - driven to extremes because his people have been genocided and then covered up - is Kid. Is a kid. This is a kid. A desperate kid. His actions are not being condoned, but they are put into a very clear context.

Cora's song - again, kind of clumsy (but very powerful scene; I almost cried). I think a surface interpretation of the scene is that it unfortunately kind of implied that the two choices were terrorism or benign appeal. BUT what I think it was /trying/ to say was this group of people need allies. It wasn't just that Cora revealed herself and self-advocated in a pretty dress, it was that the hosts undermined the corporation that was funding their spectacle by giving her screen time to appeal to 3 trillion people. It wasn't the end of the fight, but the start. And an indictment of the real song contest in our world that would never allow such a thing.

The Doctor torturing Kid - again, treading very cafefully here, but I think this is a second allegory within the episode. The Doctor, a member of a genocided group, taking his rage out on someone who has been disarmed. Not okay. And the narrative doesn't frame it as okay, regardless of what Kid was about to do. And more importantly, the narrative shows us that he needs someone to stop him. His actions are not okay and someone needed to stop him. Again, not perfectly presented, not a perfect allegory - and not meant to be a one-to-one allegory either, obviously. But I saw comments in the tags about how it was uncomfortable watching the doctor torture someone like that and - yes, it was. Because it was supposed to be.

I said in my other post that the episode was trying to be obvious and have plausible deniability at the same time, and I think that's a good thing. That's not the part that had issues. Because if it was OBVIOUS obvious, then you get things like Kill the Moon, and Kerblam!, and whatever that weird episode with Bill and the weird consent aliens were. If it was so on the nose as to be like these episodes, it would fail. You want the allegory to be imperfect, because in the gap is where you get the critique of the real world. Why does Rylan let Cora sing? Because the real Eurovision would never. Why does Belinda stop the Doctor? Because no one has stopped Israel. It just means in those gaps too, it's going to be clumsy, and that's where we can critique the episode too.

I hope this was respectful. Again, it's a very serious topic, and I wanted to approach it with that in mind. But I think my interpretations of these plot points are supported by the text, and therefore add to the point it's trying to make.

There's so much more in this episode to expand on too - we haven't even talked about the honey poppy thing, or the banning of Hellions from competing, or so many other little indictments of the Song Contest that mirror or reference the real world one. But those were the three things that have really jumped out at me that I haven't seen anyone really discuss, and I wanted to float the idea that maybe these things were on purpose, and that maybe in them we find a stronger thesis for the episode that what we see at first glance.

[vampishnes]

Sanguine Hunger: Chapter Two

Part One Pairings: Platonic!Thunderbolts & Fem!Reader, Bob x FemThunderbolts!ExAvenger!Reader Summary: Late night garden planning with Bob and takeout night with the Thunderbolts. Tags: No use of ‘Y/N’. Female reader. Slow burn! Found family, 'slice of life', Hurt/Comfort Warnings: References to past trauma. Very, very slight suggestive content. Word count: 2.9k

Small peeks of molten gold began to seep through the night's blue shading, a thin layer of dark orange emerged over the curvature of Earth and poured into the small crevices of Bob's bedroom curtains. The light was a small respite against the straining of your eyes as they tried to focus on the ‘Gardening For Idiots’ book balanced precariously on your lap. The bedside lamp, a sleek Stark relic, bathed the pages in a dim glow that covered the words in fuzzy shadows and made them just beyond perceptible. Bob softly asked if you wanted the big light on, and you naively denied the offer in your edging-on-exhausted state. You glanced at the clock beside the bed: 4:43 AM. You’ve been up for hours. You shifted positions on the mattress, trying to will yourself awake with sudden jolts of movement. Your eyes burned with dryness, each blink a heavy drag.

It wasn’t until Bob’s voice cut through the silence that your spine jerked upright, jolting your posture as blood surged back to your sleep-starved mind. “We could start with these,” he pointed to the picture of cherry tomatoes. “Not too demanding, looks delicious too.” He added, licking the dry skin on his lips. Shifting positions, he leaned closer to point at the picture below it, his shoulder brushing yours. “The garlic looks good, too.” The warmth of his skin bled through his thin jumper and onto your cold skin. You tried to focus on the writing beside the images, but you could only get a few lines in—something about ‘full sun’—but the scent of him, distinctively shea butter soap and permeating chocolate from your earlier kitchen rendezvous, threatened to draw your attention away. “Garlic looks perfect, seems resilient. We’ll need that.” Your finger traced the edge of the book's page. You glanced sideways and watched his eyelashes cast shadows against his cheeks in the lamplight. The pulse in your throat fluttered. You wound your eyes tightly shut, blaming your wandering thoughts on the intensifying fatigue. Bob smiled warmly, grateful for confirmation. "I had an aunt who grew garlic in her garden. Always smelled amazing." He said as he rubbed his eyes, the sleepless night catching up to him too, but neither of you suggested ending this comfortable bubble you found yourselves in.

“I’ve never planted anything. I grew up pretty…” You thought back to your old life, lavish gowns, back to when the most pressing matter in your life was finding a potential suitor. “Well off.” Bob's gaze lingered on your face a moment longer, curiosity brewing behind his tired eyes. “Well off?” “Old money. Very old. I had private tutors for everything: piano, Latin, dancing, singing. Gardening never came up, though.” You scrunched your nose quickly, shaking your head at the very thought of doing something so hands-on back then. Bob nodded, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to absorb the small fragment of your past. “Do you miss it?” He asked simply, tearing his eyes away from yours. “Who you were before?” “I used to. I used to beg God to take me back.” You gulped harshly, feeling the sides of your throat convulse in response. That bitter ache welled over you, restless nights after your rescue spent weeping in bed, begging for some sort of salvation. You inhaled steadily before continuing. “Not any more. People always need saving. I don’t think I could live with myself, knowing what I know now, if I just sat in the backlines while others suffered.” You looked back at Bob. Silence settled between you; you expected the usual platitudes, awkward sympathy that made you want to crawl into yourself. “I know that feeling, of wanting to be someone else, of wishing for something else.” The lamplight caught the faint shake of his hands, a reminder of who he was now. Your eyes caught the way his thumb smoothed over the knuckles of his other hand. “I like who you are.” The words felt insufficient, like nothing you could say could even begin to chisel through the years of self-loathing you both felt. You wanted to take them back, to find better words. To say that you were both worth saving. His shoulders relaxed a fraction, smiling gingerly. “I don’t.” Bob’s thumb stilled and retreated underneath his hand. “But when you say it, I almost believe it.” The air thickened in response; his vulnerability hung between you, delicate as early winter's snowflakes. Your breath caught, all possible words dying on your tongue.

An alarm clock blared distantly through the hall, shattering the fleeting moment. Bob jerked back, cheeks flushing. “Every morning. Five-thirty AM on the dot, Walker's alarm.” He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, the spell broken between you. “Yeah, I'm in the room beside him. So loud every fucking morning.” Your voice came out hoarse as you rolled your eyes. You cleared your throat, forcing the emotions down. “We should start a list. For the garden. Supplies and… things.” “There's a garden centre a few blocks away, opens at 6 am.” “Who’s buying seeds at 6 am?” “Us.”

The Tower began to stir. Walker's alarm had, as always, woken others. Soon the communal areas would fill with your teammates, and the thought of escaping to the garden centre until you woke up a bit more, was exceptionally appealing. Bob moved to get up. Standing from the bed, he stretched his hands above his head, revealing the tiniest sliver of skin. Your eyes fluttered down in response, to the ‘v’ trail leading to below his hips. No matter how many times you tried to look away, your gaze kept pulling back. The harsh curvature of his stomach was overwhelmingly appealing, each sculpted contour an invitation to stare. You clenched your jaw tight, trying to drag your eyes to the now suddenly interesting colour of the curtains. “I’m gonna get changed, meet back here in fifteen?” Bob nodded in response, looking back at you as you moved toward the door.

Unfortunately, for you, Walker had just exited his room. Gym shorts way too tight, 3-inch inseam tight, to be exact. You couldn’t help the grimace that crawled across your face. His eyes narrowed on yours as you closed the door with a soft click. His gaze flicked from your face to Bob’s door, then back. “Late night bonding?” He crossed his arms, the fabric of his shirt straining over his biceps. “We’re planning a garden.” You leaned against the wall, feigning indifference. He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling like the world itself sat on his shoulders. “Not Bob’s plant idea again.” “Problem?” “Yeah, problem!” He said, raising his voice an octave higher as he gestured toward the ceiling. “This place literally gets attacked once a month, it’s going to last like four minutes.” You shrugged. “It’s a good enrichment. Bob needs it.” “Is he a dog?” “Jealous you weren’t invited?” He scoffed in response, scowl deepening into something dangerously close to a pout. “No. Do you know how many hostiles could breach through the roof? It’s a liability.” “Well, good thing you’re here to protect us.” You said, voice dripping with faux sweetness. His head shook slightly, taking the compliment straight to his head.

Too exhausted to endure another second of him, you shimmied through him and the door, shoulder-checking him lightly. You’d just wasted five minutes explaining yourself to Walker as if he were your dad, catching you sneaking in through the window. Ten minutes left to get ready. You closed your bedroom door, shedding your comfortable clothes off as soon as you heard the faint chime of the automatic lock behind you. You rifled through your wardrobe, half of your clothes sat dirty in your laundry basket, so your options were limited. You settled on a white tank top, faded blue boot-cut jeans, and a worn-out green motorcycle jacket. You zipped up your jacket halfway, revealing the moth-bitten tank of your once-lace collar. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you hastily tugged on a pair of slightly heeled combat boots, lacing up the damaged leather strings you’d replaced so many times now.

After a quick trip to the kitchen, you brewed the strongest coffee you could manage, grabbing an extra mug for Bob. When you returned to his room eight minutes later, two cups of drinks balancing in one hand, you found a note taped to his door: ‘In shower. Feel free to come in and wait’ with a small poorly drawn smiley face beside it. You pushed the door handle down with your elbow and stepped into the now-familiar room. The air hung heavy, muggy from the heaps of steam that seeped from underneath the ensuite, leaving a distinct smell of green tea. You spotted the garden book on the night stand, now with a notepad stuck on top, half-covered in rushed, sloppy scribbles. You grabbed it between your fingers, placing the cups down beside it as you sat on the edge of the bed. Squinting as you tried to decipher the writing: tomato seeds (cherry?), garlic bulbs, pots (different sizes), soil (ask about best type), small trowel, soap. A slow grin spread as you slipped the sticky note back into place. You leaned back, you could just make out Bob's humming, something faint that you couldn’t make out the tune for. The mattress felt much more comfortable than yours, but maybe that was just the softness of the duvet below you or the warm, familiar scent of his room.

The surrounding noises blurred, the shower running, the birds chirping just outside, someone's alarm beeping down the hall. Everything started to fade, like someone was turning down the volume of the world. Your last coherent thought was that you should force yourself up, that you needed to be ready when Bob came out. But your body had other ideas, shutting down before you could follow through. “I was thinking we could stop by the-” Bob's voice cut off abruptly as he stepped out of the bathroom, towel rubbing his damp hair. He stared at the sight before him: you. You sprawled halfway across his bed, mouth slightly agape, feet dangling off the edge of the mattress, completely asleep. He stood there for a moment longer, torn between waking you or letting you rest in the rare moments you could. Quietly and carefully, he tiptoed to the edge of the bed, grabbed the thin blanket from the side of you and gently placed it atop you. You stirred, mumbling something incoherent before falling back into rhythmic snoring. 

He moved carefully to the armchair beside the bed, grabbing the open book beside him. Sinking into the cushions, he reached for one of the coffee cups, grimacing when the dark brown liquid sloshed around his mouth. He flipped through the pages to where he last left off, he tried to focus on the proper drainage etiquette. Yet, as the time slipped by, the text blurred into a haze, and his eyelids began to sag. His thoughts drifted as pieces of your conversation echoed in his head. I like who you are. They burrowed deep into his mind, he hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear them. Not until you. 

Despite his efforts to stay awake, his eyelids grew heavier, and the unrelenting in and out of your breathing had soothed him into sleep. He jerked awake moments later, his head having lulled forward and tugged himself out of his peaceful rest. He shook his head, trying to reorient himself: his feet were cold, and his neck would be sore if he tried to sleep like this for the next few hours. He thought about going to the common area couch, but didn’t want to explain to anyone the reason he was there, and he was certain that he wouldn’t be able to sleep with the coming and goings of everyone else. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself up from the hard sofa and padded his way to the soft, vacant side of the bed. The mattress welcomed him with a faint creak, moving you slightly to the bend of his weight as he tried to settle. He lay on his back at first, blanket half over himself and pillow uncomfortably propped under him. As he drifted back to sleep, his head tilted to yours, and he hoped when you woke, you’d steal a pillow, curl into the space he’d left warm and make yourself at home. 

The faint golden hue of sunset shone directly into your sleep-filled eyes as consciousness slowly returned to you. Your shirt clung to damp skin, socks bunched awkwardly around your toes. At first, you’d wondered if you managed to fall asleep after the garden centre trip, until it hit you all at once. You haven’t left the tower. You shot up, eyes widening in panicked distress. You needed to tell Bob, your hands reached frantically for your phone, instead finding the hard lump of someone else. You jerked your hand back, peeking over the lump to find Bob laid inches away, curly hair poking in up in every different angle imaginable. Your breath faltered, eyes darting around the unfamiliar room as you tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Your head snapped to the left of you, the alarm clock now reading 5:53 PM. You’d slept for almost twelve hours. You groan louder than intended, wiping a grimy hand over your face as you start to remember it all. At some point, in your sleepy haze, you’d taken off your jacket and shoes and settled into bed correctly. 

“Hey,” You jolt in response to the rough voice, placing a hand over your heart. “Sorry. You were out cold, didn’t want to wake you.” You plopped the hand back on your lap, craning your head upwards as all the memories hit you again.  “Garden centre’s closed now, isn’t it?” You mumbled, voice thick with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you’d manage to fall asleep. You who survived multiple sleepless nights no matter how exhausted you were, passed out when it mattered the most.  “It’s ok! We can go tomorrow.” He reassures, propping himself up with his elbow, smiling up at you. “I am starving, though.” You nod in response, feeling that familiar grumbling in the depths of your stomach. You were sustained in terms of blood, but nothing sounded better than an actual meal. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, stretching your arms above your head. “Maybe we can convince the team to get takeout?” 

Half an hour later, you managed to slink into your room, tore off the sweat-dampened outfit, and threw on another tank top and an old pair of tennis shorts. You sloshed around two caps full of mouthwash before deeming yourself clean enough to face anyone else. The common area was unusually bustling for a Thursday evening. Bob already made his way to the couch, with Bucky and Alexi huddled around his small phone screen. Yelena perched on one of the kitchen stools, scrolling through her phone with a look of deep concentration. “That burger looks delicious! Yes, we will get burgers,” Alexi announced. His palm slammed the sofa cushion beside Bob's ear, causing him to jump. Bucky didn’t glance up from Bob’s phone. “We got burgers last time, we should get pizza,” Bucky responded, eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head. Ava finally tore her eyes from her screen and rolled her eyes. “God save me,” she groaned. “But I agree with Alexi.” Alexi barked a sharp ‘Ah-ha!’ in response, jabbing a triumphant finger at Bucky. You crept behind the sofa and peered down at Bob’s phone. Uber Eats in bright green letters filled you in on all that happened while you were away. Bob caught your stare and flashed a tired smile, tilting the screen your way. “Hungry?” he asked, feigning innocence as if it wasn’t your idea to get takeout. “Anything sounds good as long as it’s ordered in the next five minutes,” you pleaded, walking around the sofa to sit between John and Ava. Peeking at their phones, you saw the same Uber Eats screen. “You guys do know we can just order different things and buy it at the same time, right?” Walker said, clicking his phone off as he gestured with it. “Plus, the taco place looks the best.” Yelena quirked an eyebrow at Walker, her eyes flicking briefly to you before she shrugged and returned her gaze to her screen. “I want pizza,” Yelena offered. “Bob. Send me the link to the order together thing.” You glanced at Walker, who offered you his phone to add your own choices to the basket. “Just get me two hard shell tacos, two soft shell. Spiciest options they have,” you said, pushing the phone back his way. 

An hour later the kitchen counter disappeared beneath the sprawl of takeout containers, tacos, pizza boxes, burger wrappers near containers of fries, and a concerning amount of sauce packets forming a chaotic arrangement. The warm, mingled aromas of spices, cheese, and grilled meat filled the common area as you all grabbed your orders. "That's my taco," you said, slapping Walker's hand away as it hovered too close to your food. He raised his hands in mock surrender, backing away to claim his own order. 

"Christ, I was just moving it closer to you," he grumbled, grabbing his own set of tacos. “We should watch a movie.” 

[prettydaisygirl]

If possible can we get a part two of the one bed trope with James?

Maybe a smug Sirius when he finds out his plan worked. Maybe even a month after the cabin.

I love your stories so much. You are so talented!!

AND "Hello my love! I am absolutely obsessed with the one bed trope James potter fic you just posted! It’s so lovely :) I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a part two, just the next day where they have a soft, fluffy morning- you know maybe them being a little awkward at first because they’re not sure what to do, but falling into this comfortable intimacy because of the forced proximity? No worries either way but I love your writing!!"

I got two requests for a part two of the one bed trope fic! I'm so glad to see so many of you enjoyed it, I was really proud of it after I struggled with it for a few days haha! I tried to blend these two requests together, and I'm pretty happy with how this turned out. I hope you all enjoy, thanks for requesting <3

(boy)friend!James Potter x fem!reader who get found out ✿ 1.3k words

cw: fem reader, reader and James don't want to admit that Sirius' plan worked, mentions of smut but nothing detailed, Sirius is so dramatic I love him

james potter masterlist

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This morning was decidedly not going the way you had hoped it would.

It started out good. More than good, you would even say wonderful. You’d woken up with James’ head between your legs, which is quite possibly the best way you can imagine waking up in the morning. You’d cuddled for a while, showered together, and you relished in the feeling of being around your boyfriend. Truthfully, things were new. The two of you have only really been together a few weeks. 

But it doesn’t feel new. It feels like two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, that were always meant to find one another. Sirius may have pushed you, but there’s a deep knowing in your gut that things would always have turned out this way. A million lifetimes, a million different paths, and you think that you and James Potter would find your way together. 

The morning after your first kiss with James, you’d woken up in his arms in the cabin. 

 Your eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of James Potter’s sleeping face. For a moment, you’re in utter disbelief until you remember the conversation, and the kiss, from the night before. You find your cheeks heating up, and you press yourself closer to him as your heart pounds. His arms wrap tighter around you, like even subconsciously he wants to be closer to you.

You place a gentle kiss on his chin, and he takes in a long breath before his own eyes open. He smiles at you softly, a hand raising to hold your cheek. There’s a moment where both of you just sit comfortably still, looking at each other in the early morning light. Then James lowers his mouth to yours and despite the morning breath it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

When James finally pulls away, you’re sufficiently dizzy and desperate beneath him. He smirks confidently and climbs off of you, holding out a hand for you to take. 

The two of you eat breakfast together, go on a little walk through the woods and enjoy the beauty of nature and solitude. He kisses you again, then, as you slow dance under the trees in the light of the midday sun, and you know you’ll always think of this moment when you hear birds singing.

“We can’t tell Sirius about this,” James whispers to you with a teasing smile on his face. You chuckle, pulling him just a bit closer as the two of you sway.

“No, we cannot.” You agree, your sweet laugh making James’ heart soar. 

The rest of the weekend is much the same. You have sex for the first time, with James whispering how beautiful you are and how much he adores you. You cuddle in front of the fireplace and James falls asleep with his head in your lap as you read him a book. It’s beautiful, everything you could have ever wanted. And you’re not going to tell Sirius.

And so far, neither you or James had managed to let it slip to Sirius, or anyone else, that your relationship had changed so significantly. You didn’t want to hear Sirius’ smug teasing, endure Remus’ knowing looks, or even Peter’s intrusive questions. The two of you just wanted to be you two just for a little bit longer. 

But, of course, secrets can only stay secret for so long. This morning is when things go wrong.

James washes your hair and then kisses you until the water goes cold. He wraps you in a towel, calls you his ‘angel’, and goes downstairs to make breakfast. 

You’ve just finished drying your hair with James’ towel, wearing one of his shirts and your panties, when you hear the front door open and close. You’re not immediately put off, thinking maybe James stepped outside for the paper or something. 

“Oi, Prongs! Why is there a pair of ladies shoes by your door?” Sirius. 

You freeze, looking down at your lack of clothing, the open bedroom door, the obvious evidence of your nights here scattered around James’ home. 

Sirius’ footsteps echo as he moves into the kitchen. You stand, taking the quietest steps you can possibly manage to lean against the bedroom door, listening. 

“Pads, mate, you have to text me when you want to come over. It’s not like we share a bedroom anymore, is it?” Your boyfriend’s voice gives you butterflies, but it only increases your anxiety, overwhelmed by the situation. You grasp the wood of the bedroom door tightly. 

It’s not really a big deal if Sirius finds out, you know eventually everyone will find out. But you weren’t expecting it. You wanted to tell everyone on your own terms. 

“Well, sorry, but I’m here now.” You hear something scrape across the floor, presumably Sirius sitting down at the dining room table. “There’s a pair of women’s shoes by the door, and you’re making pancakes. I’ve interrupted your morning after, haven’t I?” Sirius laughs boisterously and James seems to shush him. 

“Sirius, please-” If James says anything else, you don’t hear it. There’s only a moment of quiet before Sirius’ voice says the worst possible thing imaginable.

“Jamsie,” Sirius’ voice is high and sing-songy, and even though you can’t see him, you know there’s a bright grin on his face, “Is she who I think she is? Did my plan work?”

“So you admit it!” There’s another scraping sound, you guess James sits at the table by Sirius. You decide to move across the bedroom, losing out on some of the conversation while you put your jeans on. 

Fully clothed now, you tiptoe out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Sirius and James are sitting at the table, as you guessed. You and James meet eyes and he shrugs. Sirius sees this, whipping his head around so fast you think he might injure himself.

“Ah-ha! I knew it!” Sirius stands up, clearly proud of himself and his match-making skills, “You don’t have to thank me, just let me plan your wedding!”

“Sirius!” James’ eyes widen and he looks at you apologetically. But, strangely, you don’t feel upset. In fact, you find yourself starting to laugh, and Sirius does too. James looks between the two of you with a furrowed brow before even he can’t help but join in, chuckling and shaking his head. “You can’t just say that.”

“I can say whatever I want because I was right!” Sirius flips his hair over his shoulder dramatically. “I’m thinking ballroom wedding. Fancy for your parents, Jamsie, don’t you think?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” James shakes his head and you take a seat at the table with two of them. He moves closer, brushing a soothing hand over your knee to apologize for Sirius’ intrusion. 

“Really?” You chime in, surprising both of them, “I would imagine you’d want something extravagant, Jamie.” 

“I do! Well, I mean- If… If you want something extravagant, then I do too! I want to show you off…” Sirius watches the interaction with a smirk, obviously taking notes to tease the both of you later. 

You roll your eyes and smile, lightly shoving at James with your hand, though it doesn’t even move him an inch. “We’ve been together for three weeks, James. I don’t know what kind of wedding I want.” 

“Well, you must have some idea-” James’ voice is cut off by the scrape of the chair again, Sirius standing up and putting his hands on his hips. He does a little bow and you roll your eyes again.

“Well, now I have put the idea into your heads. Ponder it,” He smiles giddily, grabs his bag, and begins making his way back to the front door. “I can’t wait to tell Remus about this. He’ll be glad his allergic reaction wasn’t for nothing!”

“Sirius!”

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© prettydaisygirl

[fantasticfourthwingimagines]

Bless this Ground Pairing - Garrick Tavis x RiorsonSister!Reaader Summary - When Garrick returns back to Aretia after being away for a week and a half, he reminds you how he is entirely yours. Word Count - 3.4k Warnings - SMUT, Language, but adorable. Reader is kinda a brat and Garrick loves it.

You couldn’t help the little surge of giddiness as your fingers trailed down the stone pathway, breathing in the earth and the familiar scent of home. While the circumstances that had gotten you there weren’t so pretty, you couldn’t deny that you had missed it and the memories. While your mom had been with you, she’d always taught you to focus on the good things in life, so while there were some bad memories in this place, you chose to remember the good ones. Sneaking down at night to have a midnight glass of milk with Xaden, your mother’s soft singing as she brushes your hair, the rare but precious spark of your father’s smile, play fights with Liam, gossiping with Sloane about the stable boys, and of course . . . Garrick’s hand in yours as you snuck off to the forest to catch a glimpse of any visiting dragons. Who would have ever guessed in a few years you would both be bonded to dragons of your own? 

A hand caught your wrist and tugged you into a nearby alcove, jolting you from your thoughts. Your startled breath turned to a gasp of pure surprise and joy. The small light lit up a face you hadn’t let yourself hope to see yet. Garrick, smiling.  

“You’re back!” It felt like a great weight had been lifted off your chest and all of the sudden, air rushed back into your lungs. Your hands reached out to cup his cheeks, reassuring yourself that he was here, in front of you and breathing. 

“Miss me?” Garrick said, his smile so big that an adorable dimple popped out. 

You couldn’t resist fucking with him. “Well I did need something off a high shelf the other day . . . but then I remembered I can move stuff with my mind, so . . .”

You bit your lip to hide your smirk as he backed you up against the wall, leaving no space between your bodies. “I’ve been gone a week and a half, and you’re being a brat.” He said. Those large, calloused hands settled on your hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs. 

Eager to touch him all over, you let your hands slip down his face to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his soft curls. You could no longer hide your smirk as you looked up at him. “I thought you loved it when I was being a brat.” 

Garrick leaned down, and you felt your heart rate pick up as he nuzzled into your neck, his breath fanning across your exposed skin. “I do, but not when I’ve spent the last eleven days stopping myself from walking across half the continent to sneak into your bed at night.” 

Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that Garrick Tavis, the boy you’d crushed on most of your life, was now yours. Your relationship hadn’t changed much in all actuality. The two of you acted the same as you always had, except now there was sex involved. But then Garrick would say something like that, and your heart would feel like it was going to combust because it couldn’t be real. 

But it was real. He was here, holding you against his body, telling you how much he missed you. You let that little part of yourself, the part you usually buried because it showed weakness, slip past your walls for him. “You should have, because I was wishing you were there every night.” You admitted. 

Your body turned to absolute jelly as his lips pressed against the side of your neck, leaving a tender, but still heat inducing, kiss. “You were, huh?” He said in a pleased tone. 

You were so happy he was back you couldn’t even deny it if you wanted to. “I think even more than when you were at Basgaith the first two years.” You admitted. 

Garrick pulled back enough to press his forehead to yours, eyes locked on yours like they were the only thing he could see. “I thought about you all the time those two years. Especially the first one when I couldn’t write you. You know that right?” 

You looked away, unable to meet those soft hazel eyes. Words you’d been hearing all week echoed in your head, souring the sweetness of the moment. Your body tensed, hands slipping from his shoulders. “Not like I thought about you. You were too busy fucking around apparently.” You murmured, feeling yourself start to close off again. 

“Woah, wait, look at me.” Garrick said, his fingers reaching for your chin and turning you back to face him. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t think about you like that back then, because I was a fucking idiot, but don’t think for a second I didn’t miss you. Every time I saw a dragon flying over I thought of you in those woods. Every time I rode Chradh I thought about how amazed you would be.” His thumb rubbed along your jawline. “Where did that come from?” 

You immediately felt embarrassed. You hated feeling insecure, and you hated that you let someone make you feel that way with a couple of snide comments. This was why you didn’t let your walls down. When you did your emotions always got the better of you. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “Nowhere. I don’t want to argue-”

His grip tightened the slightest bit on your chin. “No, you don’t lie to me, and that didn’t come out of nowhere. What happened while I was gone?” 

He was right. You didn’t lie to him. “Alina.” You muttered, hating the way the name tasted. 

Garrick groaned. “Seriously? That was once. Regrettable. Forgettable. Trust me - I never wanted to touch her again. I think she bit me. Not in a fun way.” He said simply, as if that was all the conversation she was worth. “You?” His hand slid down your leg, thumb grazing your inner thigh. “I’m desperate to touch every damn second of every day.” 

Your breath hitched. Heat crawled up your neck and into your cheeks, his words wrecking whatever defenses you had left. “Sounds like you have a bit of an addiction there, Tavis.” 

“Oh, you have no idea.” He said, and you let out a startled gasp that turned into a laugh as he grasped your thighs, hoisting you up in the air, and pinning you to the wall with his hips. “I should seek help for it.” 

Just like that, you felt weightless again, a stupid grin tugging at your lips as your hands slid over his broad shoulders. “You know sometimes . . . I think indulging yourself and your addictions can be a good thing.” 

Garrick smirked at you. “Well as long as I have your permission-”

You barely had time to cling to him before he took a step, and the world warped around you, air compressing like a breath held too long. It lasted for a second, then you found yourself in your bedroom. You slapped his shoulder as he started carrying you over to your bed. “You’re supposed to warn me when you do that!” 

You landed on the bed with a surprised oof. “That’s what you get for being a jealous brat.” He replied, keeping his eyes locked on you as he stripped his shirt off. 

Gods he was too hot. No one but Garrick had ever made you this horny in your life. You let your gaze sweep across every inch of his exposed chest and biceps, licking your lips at the sight. He was all muscle and sun-warmed skin, sculpted like a god. You wanted your hands on every inch. 

His smirk deepened as he approached, climbing on the bed in front of you, one knee at a time. “You’re staring.” He pointed out, slipping his hands under your knees and pulling them apart so he could settle between your thighs. 

Your eyes slipped back to his. “I like the view.” You admitted, grinning up at him. 

Garrick reached down to tug at the ankle of your leggings until they were off your hips, your underwear following soon after, and slid them down the rest of your legs. “I like the view too.” He said, and you let out a moan as he took one of your feet in his hand and started massaging the sole. It felt so damn good. “You make that sound again, and this whole massage is getting skipped.” He warned you, but his hands didn’t stop. 

An idea struck you, and you lifted your foot that he wasn’t touching to press against his cock in his leathers. By what you felt there, he wasn’t kidding. “Want me to give you a massage to? Make it even?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

He grabbed your foot, giving you a warning look that shot heat straight to your core. “Can you not behave for five minutes while I take your clothes off?” 

“What’s the fun in that?” You teased. “Besides.” You sat up, using your foot to push him down backwards on the bed, crawling on top to settle on his hips. “What if I want to take care of you?” 

You caught the glimmer of intrigue in Garrick’s eyes. As many times as the two of you have had sex, you hadn’t been on top yet. Not because you didn’t want to, just because you hadn’t had the chance. “I’m fine with that.” He murmured, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to tug at the hem. “This has got to go though.” 

Gripping the bottom, you tugged it over your head, the band around your breasts following soon after. His gaze swept over you, slow and reverent. You’d never get used to the way he looked at you - like you were the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. Unable to resist, you leaned down and kissed him, shivering when his hands slid up your back and tangled in your hair, wrapping the strands tight in his fists. 

Kissing Garrick always felt like coming home, warm and grounding, like your entire body could exhale. But there was fire, too. Passion, heat, and the kind of connection that only came from knowing someone so well that your body responded without hesitation. You wanted to sink into it, into him, and never come up for air, but instead, you pulled back enough to whisper against his lips. “I missed you so much, Garrick Tavis.” 

You felt his smile against your lips, and then he kissed you harder, his tongue brushing across the seam of your lips that you immediately opened for him. You heard him let out a groan as you rolled your hips against him, then did it again. Gods you loved the sound of that, knowing you were responsible for it. You eased back, letting your nails trail down his toned chest, something you’d been aching to do, feeling the smooth skin until you reached the buttons of his leathers. 

The heat in his gaze made your fingers tremble as you unbuttoned his pants, and you got off of him to slide them and his underwear down his hips. Once they were gone, you paused for a heartbeat, to admire the flawless man beneath you, the man who was entirely yours. You might not be the best at expressing your feelings with words, but you could for sure do it with your body. You gripped him in your hand, watching his face as his jaw tensed at your touch. It was one of your favorite things to do when the two of you were together. You loved knowing that you could make this big strong man turn into putty and watching him fight the urge to do it. “You seem a little tense,” you said as you began stroking him. “Anything I can help with?” You started leaning down over him, keeping your gaze locked in his. 

“Fuck,” he hissed as you took the tip of his dick into your mouth, sucking gently before he even had the chance to think of an answer to your question. “I swear you’re going to be the death of me.” He groaned, his head falling back against the bed. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off Garrick as you went further down on him, heat flooding your body and going straight to your core as you watched his reactions. He was so damn hot like this. A moan left your lips though as his hand reached out to grip your hair again, holding you in place against him as he started to thrust into your mouth. You let him do what he wanted, your own hand sliding down your body to touch yourself, desperate for any sense of relief. When you watched his abs start to tense with the effort of holding back, you slid off of him, your hands dragging up and down his muscular thighs. “In my mouth or inside of me?” 

“Gods,” he groans at the question. “Inside of you.” 

He let go of your hair so you could slide up his body, meeting him in another bruising kiss. You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of kissing him, and the sinful moan he let out when he tasted himself on your tongue made it even better. He was impatient though, and you grinned against his lips as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, sliding you up more until you were situated directly on top of him. You pulled away, your lips lingering for as long as possible before you sat up, placing one hand on his chest and using the other to help guide him inside of you. 

This time you had to close your eyes, your head falling back as he filled you up so exquisitely. Everything about Garrick was big, and this was no exception. You had to go slow, but with the way he was gripping you, you don’t think he minded. Finally, you settled against his hips, tilting your head back down to look at him to find him staring at you, a dazed expression in his eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He said. 

Affection filled your chest almost to an explosion. How did he always know what to say to get past those stone walls you built to protect yourself? You bit your lip as you looked down at him, taking one of your hands and brushing some hair back from his face. “And all yours.” You reminded him, cupping his cheek in your hand. 

He turned his head to kiss your palm, then faced you once more, his hands sliding up your hips to your chest, and you let out a moan as his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples, and sending white hot waves of pleasure straight down your core. 

You started moving on top of him, setting a slow pace so you could enjoy the feeling of him inside of you for as long as possible. He didn’t seem to mind, his hands occupied with your breasts. After a few minutes though, you could sense him getting tense again, and you let out a gasp of pleasure when on your next downward thrust, he snapped his hips up to meet you, the heat and pleasure causing your nails to dig into his shoulders. “Fuck Gar.” You gasped, moaning when he did it again. It felt so damn good, too damn good. 

“Come here,” he demanded, and tugged you down for a messy kiss, one of his hands sliding up into your hair, and the other traveling down your body to right where you needed him the most. His first touch made your rhythm stutter for a moment, and another moan left your lips as he began to circle your clit with his thumb. “Keep going.” Garrick murmured against your lips, thrusting up into you again. 

Both of you picked up the pace, struggling to catch your breath, but so close to that high, you didn’t even care. You could feel it building, cresting as he fucked up hard into you. You tried to meet every thrust with just as much passion, chasing that wave of pleasure until it crashed over you, white hot and intense. He swallowed your scream of his name with his lips, thrusting into you until he found his own release a few moments later. 

You had collapsed on top of him, and you sighed as he rolled the two of you until you were on your back and he hovered on top of you. A satisfied smile fell on your lips, followed by a breathless laugh as he bent down and attacked your face with kisses. That laugh turned into soft sighs though as he started kissing down your body, stopping to pay special attention to your breasts. Gods he was already getting you turned on again. “Gar . . .” You moaned as he continued to kiss down your body. “Baby what are you doing?” You asked as he hiked your legs over his large shoulders. 

That adorable dimple was out in full force as he looked at you, his hands gripping your thighs beside his head. “Just showing you how much I missed you.” Garrick replied, and then his tongue was licking up your slit. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the pleasure. You were already so fucking sensitive, and then the thought of how he was licking up not only your mess, but his as well, made this one of the hottest things he’d ever done. It felt so good it hurt. It didn’t help that Garrick was already well versed in where to put his tongue and fingers to make you feel incredible. When he slipped two fingers inside of you and focused his tongue on your clit, you practically leapt off the bed. 

You could feel him chuckle against you, and a strong arm fell across your hips holding you in place as he doubled his efforts. The needy noises that were leaving your mouth were unlike anything you’d ever made, and probably would have embarrassed you if you could think of anything other than the pleasure. It was overstimulating. It was amazing. It was too much. It was just right. The build up to your orgasm was so much faster this time, and you tugged at his hair, desperate for it. 

Garrick, sensing what you needed, curled his fingers, touching a special spot inside of you that had you seeing stars and coming harder than you ever had in your life. In fact, you were pretty sure you yanked some of his hair out as you fell into a wave of unbelievable bliss. 

He didn’t let up though, working you through it and extending the pleasure until you couldn’t take it anymore and shoved him away. With a soft kiss to your inner thigh that had you whimpering, he got up, heading to the bathroom and coming back with a washcloth. You jerked as he started cleaning you up, more sensitive than you’d ever felt in your life, but he grabbed a hold of your leg, pinning you in place. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You sank into the mattress, eyes drifting closed as you replayed every moment in your head - until the bed dipped behind you and Garrick’s warm body curled around yours, pulling you close.

This - this was where you belonged. No questions. No doubt. Everything felt right when you were with Garrick. It was even better at your home too, the place the two of you had shared so many summers together. Your fingers traced lazy lines up and down his arm, a soft smile on your lips. “Think if I survive this war, Xaden will let me take summer leave here every now and then?” 

“I’d like to think we’ve got some pull there.” Garrick murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder. 

You bit your lip at his response, fight the smile spreading across your face. “We? You coming with me, Tavis?” 

Garrick pulled you tighter. “I love you, woman. I’m going wherever you go.” 

Gods, you’d never get used to him saying that. You lifted one of his hands to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles as you blinked hard, trying not to cry. “I love you too.” You whispered, sending a silent prayer to Dunne that the two of you would have years, decades, to keep saying it.

[jjungkookislife]

Thursday, Friday...

pairing: bartender!jk x bartender f. reader

genre: established relationship, work au, smut 18+

summary: Another day off spent at Jungkook's side, a few months later.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: shared shower, choking, unprotected sex, car sex, fingering (f. receiving), spanking, rimming (f. receiving), degradation, biting, multiple orgasms, creampie, cigarettes, alcohol mention

date: May 17, 2025

sunday, monday... masterlist

Thursday

Jungkook’s snores woke you. You groan as you try to stretch your arms mid-yawn. However, your sweet boyfriend is nestled under your chin, breathing you in.

“Koo,” You whisper as you try to move him off you gently. He grunts, stirring for a moment before you sigh. You’d get some more sleep then.

The next time you wake up, the birds are chirping outside, and Jungkook’s chest is pressed to your back. He’s stopped snoring.

“Morning,” His raspy voice greets you. 

“Good morning,” you respond as you yawn and roll over to face him. He smiles, kissing your cheek.

“I missed you,” He admits bashfully.

“I’ve been right here, babe,” You remind him, but he pouts.

“But I was asleep. I didn’t get to appreciate you,” He states, and you roll your eyes playfully.

“Come on, Romeo. Let’s get some breakfast and figure out what we’re doing today.” You push the covers off you, and Jungkook whines when the chill of the room hits his warm body.

“Babe,” he frowns as he shivers, tugging the covers back over him.

“Guess I’m showering alone,” You sing as you take off the oversized shirt you stole from him and head to the shower.

Jungkook curses as he gets tangled in the sheets in his hurry to join you.

Laundry was done, dishes were done, breakfast was eaten, and groceries had been ordered to be delivered at Jungkook’s place later this evening.

Jungkook laced his fingers with yours the moment you walked into the aquarium. His nose wrinkled when he got a whiff of the fishy scent but you were excited to see all the sea animals, so he kept his mouth shut.

Grinning, he holds his phone out to the ticket taker. They scan his phone twice and point to the entrance behind them.

“Where to first?” Jungkook asks as he pockets his phone. You can go straight or go left. You hum as you decide to go straight and follow the crowd. 

For a Thursday, it’s pretty empty. There are a few families and children about, but no school field trips or large groups. You relax, grateful you won’t have to crowd around others like at work.

Jungkook lets you lead him to the large tank with one huge fish swimming about. You read the information card aloud, and Jungkook listens attentively. He steps back to admire the brown fish, but soon screams with you when the fish swims upward, splashing in his tank and spraying the two of you.

“Yeah,” the nearby worker says. “He does that.”

“Good to know,” you utter as you wipe water off your arms. “Off we go.”

Chuckling, Jungkook follows you to the next tank and so forth until you reach a dark passageway that leads to a ginormous tank with a rainbow of fish swimming in schools or by themselves.

“Make way! Make way!” A loud voice shouts as people part ways, some across from you and some beside. There’s a worker with a flashlight walking backwards as a parade of penguins passes by.

You grab Jungkook’s arm in excitement, grinning when they waddle past you with the staff. In a little wagon, baby penguins sit with curious eyes as they’re led past you to continue the parade.

You hug Jungkook, kissing his cheek. “They were so cute!” 

Jungkook nods in agreement, his hand finding yours as you watch the tail-end of the Penguin Parade before you continue on your way.

After a snack break, Jungkook leads you to the shark tank. 

Scared, you clutch his hand as a hammerhead shark swims over your heads before it rests on the glass.

“That’s sturdy, right?” You ask Jungkook with wide eyes as the shark remains in place. 

“Should be,” Jungkook responds, but his arm drapes over your shoulders to pull you away from it. “But let's go over here just in case.”

The both of you continue on your path, learning about all the animals you can see. When you arrive at the penguins, you get excited.

“Think I can sneak in the tunnel to get a picture?” You ask Jungkook as a parent and their child exit the tunnel.

“Go for it, babe!” Jungkook encourages you to hand him your purse and phone, so he can take a picture of you in the clear circle right by the penguin habitat.

Jungkook watches as you drop to your knees, your skirt covering your ass and thighs, but he glares when he sees one of the father’s trying to look up your skirt.

Jungkook easily moves to the entrance of the tunnel to cover your behind, a dark brow raised in the direction of the father, who has the sense to flush and look away.

He could be pretty intimidating if he wanted to.

“Kook!” You wave from the penguins’ habitat.

“So pretty, love! Smile!” Jungkook instructs, though he doubts you could smile any wider whilst being surrounded by penguins. When you’ve had your fill, you crawl out and encourage Jungkook to have a turn.

“This looked easier when you did it,” Jungkook groans as his shoulders threaten to get stuck in the tunnel.

Giggling, you tell him to keep going until his head pops up.

“Smile!”

Jungkook does as he’s told, posing before he crawls out of the end of the tunnel. You show him the pictures, grinning madly as you take his hand.

Nearing the end of your excursion, you spot a pool with stingrays. You lean in close to watch them, a few kids feed them and a few of the stingrays splash you as they swim by to the feeding hands.

“Today was wonderful,” You tell Jungkook as you cling to his side. His cologne fills your nostrils, and you inhale him deeply as you shop around the gift shop. You find a small turtle magnet that you love, and Jungkook purchases it for you.

“A reminder of our date,” he says as he hands the tiny turtle to you.

“Thanks, baby,” You kiss his cheek before you head out the doors towards his SUV.

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up in this position. One moment, you were teasing Jungkook about his proposition, and now he was in the process of rearranging your insides… not that you were complaining.

“Jungkook,” you gasp as his hand wraps around your throat. Your back is pressed to his sculpted chest, his lips on your jaw as he pounds into you.

“Come on, babe. You can moan louder than that,” He laughs as he grips your hip with his other hand, squeezing to make your curse. 

“Jungkook,” you repeat, eyes closed as pleasure courses through every inch of your body. Your tits bounce with each of his thrusts, your moans filling his bedroom as he gently squeezes the sides of your throat.

“Just say you’ll think about it,” he whispers as he nips your earlobe. “Just think about it.”

“Fuck, yes! Okay? Yes,” you moan as you turn to kiss him before he can say something sarcastic. 

Instead of responding, his tongue meets yours as he slows the pounding of his hips, grinding against you instead.

His hand moves from your hip to your breast, a moan of your name muffled by your lips. 

Jungkook’s forehead rests against yours, ignoring the way you push back on him, trying to fuck yourself on his thick cock. 

“Really?” He asks with confirmation, his eyes displaying his apprehension.

“Really,” you take a moment to cup his face. “I want to move in, and not just because one rent payment is better than two.”

“I was trying to be convincing!” He protests, giggling as he pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah, babe,” You mock his voice dramatically. “You should move in, we’d save on rent and bills.”

“I don’t sound like that,” he snorts before he releases your throat. His lips meet yours again, easily weaving his tongue with yours as he holds you to him. Your back is arched in a ridiculous angle that will make you sore tomorrow, but you couldn’t care less as he kisses you as if his life depended on it.

“You do so,” you joke, and he easily pulls out of you.

Your back meets the pillows as you laugh. 

Jungkook hovers over you, his broad chest obscuring what little purple light he had allowed in his bedroom.

Quickly, Jungkook plants sloppy, wet kisses on your face, neck, and chest until your laughter mixes with his.

“Fuck, I love you,” He breathes, eyes sparkling with stars and hearts.

You pause, eyes wide, before you kiss him.

“I love you more,” you whisper as you caress his face. Jungkook stares down at you, ignoring the somersaults in his chest from his heart.

“Knew it,” he smirks before you grab his pillow and hit his shoulder with it.

Jungkook cackles as he takes the pillow from you, settling between your legs. You moan when his cock rubs against your thigh. 

“So easily distracted by my dick,” He coos sardonically.

“Shut up!”

“Gladly,” Jungkook replies before he captures your lips with his, your moan swallowed by his mouth as your legs wrap around his waist and he slides home once again.

Fuck, you love him.

Friday

Sleep clung to you as you parked in the lot. Jungkook chugged his energy drink, setting the empty can in the cup holder.

His long hair curled at the ends. His half-ponytail looked so hot on him. You would ruin it before you even made it into the building.

“Tonight should be good for tips,” he states as he looks at you. You don’t respond, just undo your seatbelt, ignoring the annoying dinging of the SUV as you move over the center console to climb onto Jungkook’s lap.

“Hello,” he giggles as his hands grip your hips.

Your hand finds the lever to move the seat back as your lips meet his. Jungkook moans as your tongue meets his. Fuck, you need him.

“Whoa!” he chuckles. “What’s got into you?”

“You, hopefully,” you giggle as you kiss him again, your hands going straight for his hair. Jungkook moans when you tug it, his hips rocking against yours. 

“Good boy,” you praise, and he groans gutturally. 

“Baby,” he whines, hiding his face in your chest. You laugh softly as you card your fingers through his hair.

“No need to be shy with me,” you remind him, kissing his cheek. “After all, you did ask me to move in with you.”

Jungkook can’t contain the grin that appears on his pretty pink lips. It had been a few months since he’d gotten his bottom lip pierced again. The silver hoops always got your attention when you’d look at him, and it made your heart flutter as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

Tonight was one of the busier nights this week. The air was balmy for late spring, which meant more customers would be out and about in the streets. You have been carpooling with Jungkook for a while now. He had more patience for the after-club traffic than you did. Trying to maneuver your way through cop cars, (hopefully) sober drivers, and rideshares made your head nearly pop. If Jungkook wanted to take on the horrific task of getting you both home safe, you’d let him.

Slowly, his hands move to your hips, his gaze locked on yours. “I can’t wait to wake up next to you every day.”

“You do that already, you clingy fuck,” You retort and he rolls his eyes before smacking your thigh sharply.

“But now you won’t have to leave me at night or for a few days to get more clothes.”

“True,” you nod as your hands move to his shoulders. You wanted to keep Jungkook all to yourself. He looked too damn fine to go to the bar and sell drinks to others. 

Without another word, your lips meet as his hands hike up your skirt to rest on your upper thighs. You undo the button of his pants, wishing he’d worn sweatpants instead for easier access.

“Again?” he asks with a silly smile.

“You look too good to not fuck before work,” You admit as you palm him over his pants. “Besides, if you weren’t expecting it, why did you get the backseat ready?”

Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head. “Fair enough. Why don’t you get your pretty ass back there so I can fuck you?”

Smiling, you nod as you carefully climb off Jungkook. His hand is at your hip as you take one step over the center console and fall hands-first onto the backseat that’s been pulled down and covered with soft blankets and a pile of pillows to keep you comfy.

You get on your knees to crawl forward, but Jungkook is on you before you can roll onto your back. He chuckles when you push back onto him, feeling the rough denim against your thighs.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases as his hand moves to your thighs, easily finding its home between them. 

“Jungkook,” you try (and fail) to scold him while pushing back onto him. “Don’t tease me.”

“It’s so easy, though,” He pouts in that cute way you love. It makes you rock your hips harder, growing needier as your shirt bunches up at your neck. You easily rip it off your body, tossing it into the blankets where you’ll regret it when your alarm goes off fifteen minutes later.

“We don’t have time,” you remind him as his fingertips brush your clit, and you bite back a moan as he dips his fingers into you. “Fuck.”

“We have all the time in the world, babe. There’s always time to get you creaming my fingers… or my cock.”

“Fuck, Kook,” you moan as he rubs your clit in the way you like. It has you seeing stars when your eyes shut, and his cologne and soft floral scent hit you. You want to breathe him in, make him one with you… if he’d just fuck you already!

Jungkook laughs, his head thrown back, cursing when he bumps the light overhead. You giggle in response, earning another spank before his hands grip your skirt, nearly tearing it as he pushes it out of the way. 

“Finally stopped wearing panties to work,” He praises you as his hand caresses your behind. You roll your eyes.

“You kept ripping them or losing them,” you huff as he moves his hand upward, past your stomach and straight to your tits.

“Mhmm,” he hums in response, only half listening now that your body is exposed to him. He only pauses to remove his shirt, carefully folding it onto the driver’s seat for work. Not that the ‘just fucked my girl in the backseat’ stink would lift off it.

Oh, well.

“Please, Kookie,” you whine when his hands are off your body for a moment too long. Jungkook smirks. He loves when you’re so wet and needy for him, begging for his cock, his fingers or his tongue.

One hand grips you, spreading you open for him, and you bury your face in a pillow, your cheeks hot as he exposes you to him. It’s not like he hadn’t been in every hole, devoured every bit of you entirely, but being so exposed and knowing he loved seeing you so, made your heart jump.

Jungkook eases two of his fingers into your cunt, groaning when you moan his name so sweetly. It goes straight to his cock. 

“Jungkook!” you exclaim when his tongue circles your tightest hole. You press back into him, cursing when he continues to fuck his fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit while his tongue works wonders behind you.

When it comes to your body, Jungkook is an expert and it only takes a few moments to have you cumming, loudly.

You pant as your thighs shake from the orgasm. Jungkook smiles, pride fills his chest as he admires your body before he palms his cock over his boxers. At this point, he wondered why he bothered with underwear at all when things always ended with you bouncing on his cock, creaming him so good each time, it felt like an out-of-body experience.

“Want you,” you admit when you finally catch your breath. Your body craves him, needs him to fill you so good you’ll see stars, maybe even Heaven.

Jungkook doesn’t make you wait much longer; he lines himself up at your entrance and easily slides in.

He curses, his hands gripping your hips to steady himself. Pure pleasure and satisfaction overcame him, his face the picture of sin.

The SUV rocks with his thrusts, the windows are fogged, and the playlist he made for car fucks fades into the background. Your sanchrine moans are all he needs as he sets a steady pace. His hands are greedy, needy as they palm your breasts, hips, and ass. 

You fuck back into him, pleasure overriding every other emotion as he hits that one spot that makes you empty headed and nearly loopy. Fuck, how blessed were you to have an Adonis breaking you in half at any given moment.

You knew Yoongi would lose his shit again when he pulls into the parking lot and sees Jungkook’s car rocking, windows fogged, and a slight creak. Maybe he’ll spot Jungkook’s hand as it drags down the window as he readjusts—Titanic style.

Jungkook goes slow, grinding against you before you grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his. You kiss his hand, moaning his name as you arch further. 

“Fuck, just like that,” Jungkook growls. “Such a good girl for me, huh? Take every inch of my dick like a good slut.”

“Yes,” you respond, cursing when he hauls you to him, mindful of your head as he kisses you messily before his other hand moves between your legs to rub your clit.

“Can’t get enough of this dick,” He chuckles, eyes hooded and filled with lust. “Can’t get enough of me.”

You cling to his hand, nodding like a bobblehead as he fucks you harder, deeper until you cum on his cock, screadming his name until your voice grows hoarse.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts as he holds you to him. A few more deep thrursts is all it takes for him to cum, his teeth biting your shoulder, causing you to cum again from the pain.

When he pulls out of you, you collapse onto the pillows with him at your side. Both of you stare at each other before smiling through your heavy breaths.

“Want to go again?” Jungkook asks with a smirk.

You playfully slap his chest, and he laughs, the sound music to your ears as you kiss him again. 

“We should call in sick,” Jungkook jokes as your alarm goes off.

“Don’t even think about it,” Yoongi’s voice startles the two of you as he knocks on the window with Jungkook’s handprint.

You groan as you scramble for your top while Jungkook pulls his boxers and pants over his thick, muscular thighs.

“What are you doing here?” You huff as your head pops through the neck hole of your shirt.

“Having a smoke,” Yoongi answers nonchalantly as he leans against the car door. You roll your eyes as Jungkook climbs over the center console into his seat after picking up his folded shirt. You wiggle your skirt down, hoping Jungkook has a pair of your panties in his pant pocket.

Slyly, Jungkook hands you a pair of folded pink panties and you put them on under your skirt before you settle into the passenger seat. 

Jungkook shuts off the SUV before he opens his door, then jogs to your side to open yours.

Yoongi takes another drag, shaking his head. “You two are nasty.”

“You’re the one watching us!”

“Wasn’t watching,” Yoongi shrugs as the smell hits him and he takes another deep drag. “Was waiting for you to finish so we can go in.”

“Hoseok, know you’re smoking again?” Jungkook asks, seeing right through his friend.

“Shut up,” Yoongi retorts as he finishes his cigarette.

“That’s a no,” you chime as you hand Jungkook your bag with your clothes. 

“Can you stop fucking in my parking lot?” Yoongi asks as he lights another cigarette, playing with his lighter before putting it away.

“Probably not,” You shrug as Jungkook locks the doors and sets the car alarm.

Yoongi sighs heavily, “I didn’t think so.”

Friday nights were awful.

The tips were good, the ambience was great, but fuck you were busy as you tried to scoot past Jimin to grab a bottle of liquor off the wall to pour into a shot glass.

“Behind you,” you warn as you step behind Taehyung, who is now a bartender and no longer a barback. 

Jungkook is at the end of the bar, smiling and flirting with a group of women here for a bachelorette party. They laugh at something he says before bills end up in his overflowing tip jar.

He thanks them with a wink before he gets their drinks.

Across the bar, Joon tries to politely decline one of the stragglers from the bachelorette party. When you squint, you see the white sash on her chest that reads ‘Bride-to-be’. Whoop! That is none of your business.

You turn to the next customer, leaning over the bar to hear them better.

A ghost of a touch is on your thigh, and you immediately know it’s Jungkook’s way of checking in on you.

Beside you, Jimin is dancing to the music, drawing attention and tips from the customers as the song ends and another one begins.

You rest against the bar during a lull in the crowd. Jimin pushes into your side playfully with a smile.

“Heard your man finally popped the question,” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows.

“We’re just moving in together,” You respond with a curious gaze.

“That’s what I meant,” Jimin nods as he grabs a water bottle and downs half of it.

“That’s not what pop the question means,” You roll your eyes at him, and he shrugs.

“What the hell do I know?”

“Anyway,” you grin. “He did ask, and I said yes.”

“Good,” Jimin smiles warmly. “The two of you are perfect together.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely,” Jimin answers before someone comes to the bar to ask for a shot and a mixed drink.

Midnight arrives faster than you think. 

“Take a break with Kook,” Yoongi says as he appears beside you behind the bar.

“What? You’re actually letting us take a break together?” you ask, incredulously. 

“I heard he asked you to move in. I’m in a romantic mood,” Yoongi shrugs. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“Aye, aye, boss!” You salute him, and he flips you off.

Laughing, you stand beside Jungkook as he places a cap on a bottle of liquor.

“Break time!” You shout over the music. 

Jungkook looks past you at Yoongi, who nods.

The two of you slip away from the bar, heading upstairs to the breakroom. You fan yourself as Jungkook gets you water.

“What’s got Yoongi in a giving mood?” Jungkook asks as he sits beside you on the couch.

“Heard you asked me to move in,” You explain as you hand him the bottle of water. Jungkook sips it before handing it back to you.

“Didn’t think it made headlines,” He laughs as he pulls you to his side. You lean into him, your hand on his thigh, until he laces his fingers with yours.

“Wait till they hear about our wedding,” You tease with a giggle. Jungkook kisses your forehead, grinning from ear to ear.

“I haven’t even proposed yet,” He giggles, his pretty eyes shining like the stars in the sky. 

“But you will,” You state, and he kisses you.

“I want it all,” Jungkook tells you as he brings your joined hands to his lips. 

<< previous

[tridentkickflipper123]

share ur bonus interesting night music video findings/rambles/analysis NOW!!!!!!!!!!!(please and also thank u:])

HIII JAGGY o/ honestly I could probably ramble about Night forever so... :} works out for me!

a lot of this are going to be things I've already mentioned on this blog, but they're pretty scrambled around so I might just make this a big post for all of it... consider this a 'nearly beat for beat Night analysis plus some other things and details' masterpost. not much of a lyrical analysis though because I'm not good at it lol. (also putting this all under the cut. thumbs up)

so, for starters... well, I'm not starting off with Night! nope! we're starting off with Spring and a Storm (now imagine a big arrow pointing towards me that says 'person that can't stop mentioning SaaS/StaaS at any given opportunity')

and the reason I'm bringing up Spring and a Storm first is due to the ending lines, which lead up to Night:

now, I'm aware that Spring and a Storm was the very first Tally Hall cover that Chonny made, and thus was made waaay before there was an overarching story planned for it. but ☝️ I do think CJ placing it right before Night in the final album (and assigning it to Soul, of all three... four? of them) is immensely relevant. in SaaS we get shown Soul's outright optimism/idealism despite his circumstances, and, while this is my own interpretation (which could very well be wrong!), I do think these lines are meant to be directed towards Heart and Mind specifically

and, this has never been confirmed since once again, this cover was made way before there was a story, but the final lines do sound an awful lot like Heart and Mind, don't they?

personally I think this is why CJ placed SaaS right before Night – it truly is the perfect lead-up to it. Heart and Mind singing the final lines almost feels like a call and response to Soul's beginning lines. they tried to sing once, about spring and a storm...

but we know how it goes.

[here's where I actually talk about Night lol]

now Night... it honestly may be my favorite CCCC MV out of all of them. I said so in that other post, but there's so much detail in every single scene. you can really tell that just about everything was planned out.

the MV itself starts off with Soul/potentially Whole arriving at the scene. it's interesting, actually – if we assume the silhouette is the same silhouette as the one that's in the latter half of Night, then that's definitely Whole, which would make sense as we properly see Heart, Mind and Soul arriving to the scene later. yet, all his lines are transcribed as Soul's, so... eh? I'll leave that in the air

I do interpret this beginning section as Soul guiding Heart into harmonizing with Mind. Heart's line, 'open the window, look out and see me' fades into Mind's voice, at this point, when he sings 'slow, I am coming a long way to be' the environment turns into a bright white.

I like both of these shots a lot. here we see that Mind and Heart are already feeling their respective pains (headache and heartache). but another detail is that Mind's holding up his left hand while Heart is holding up his right – which correspond to Soul's own nail color (black on the left, white on the right)

as Soul sings 'such as I am mother's only son', we see what seems to be an ultrasound scan overlaid on top of Soul / Whole. honestly, it's so hard to see that I'm still not 99% sure that's what it is even with the brightness turned up + more contrast, but I don't really know what else it could be. it's only present through this specific line too.

(this is such a typical 'blink and you miss it' CCCC detail that I can't help but love it. there's a few more like these scattered throughout some of the other MVs and each one makes me go like WHAT!!! HUH!!!)

now comes another detail that's honestly so hard to see in the video itself, but it feels really really important, and that is the fact that Heart does not have a blindfold on in this scene

(Ever is the light on.) [Is the light on ever meant to run?]

right after we see a door starting to open, in a bright environment. afterwards we see Heart puts on his blindfold

we go back to the shot with the door, except the environment is now dark. the door keeps opening, revealing Mind at the other side. worth mentioning that the only bright spot on the screen is right where Mind appears

[Cold, but I’m outside and waiting to see] (a glow in the snow, coming closer to me.)

this whole imagery with the door is important, due to both the incoming lines and another reason I'll bring up later, so remember this detail. after the chorus, we get a section with only Soul.

{Better when the light comes in the night-time, opening the door. Hoping to be right, it’s open every night, so what’cha waiting for?}

Soul is inviting Heart and Mind to harmonize, guiding them and giving them the space to connect with eachother. however. as we saw, they don't want to see eye to eye with eachother. or rather, they can't – not at this point of the cycle, at least. there's a tension there that's still unresolved, made evident by Heart's avoidance of Mind

and then comes the tines line:

I've explained in my other post what I think the line means, so I won't repeat it here. (also because I'm lazy lol). but I do think this shot itself is interesting. we see Soul alone throughout this entire verse, only going back to Heart and Mind during this line. and they're both clearly in pain; Mind with his constant headache and Heart with his chest pain. they're also not looking at eachother, with a clear split between them, Mind's environment being brighter and Heart's environment being darker. it's clear they're not on equal grounds here

here we get the second chorus again, but there's a clear difference. Heart and Soul start this line off singing together, but at the very end it's just Soul singing

{I want to see your) eyes, looking back and out through mine.}

here, Soul takes a pause right before the last word, there's a just barely audible sigh, and then sings 'mine,' alone. to me, this is the moment that Soul realizes that this isn't going to be possible, at least not in the state that things are in.

(Something is real.) {Maybe not.} {(Something is gone.)} (Something is here.) [Only thought.] {(What do you want?)}

I won't say much about these lyrics, as they're admittedly hard to parse for me as to what they mean exactly. (though it does feel like this is the point where Soul's given up on his initial task). I do think that it's notable how this is the only instance I can think of where Soul directly talks towards only Mind.

the continuing line is this:

{([Everything else will fade away.])}

as this line plays, we see Soul, Heart, Mind*, and we see Whole, and then… the video reverses, and keeps reversing up until the point where the door is closed again, Heart puts on the blindfold.

to me, what this means is that all of the progress made through the song, the attempt made by the three to see eachother's point of view, to harmonize, is now undone. they're now back at square one.

*one little detail about this part is that both Soul and Heart are looking downwards, while Mind is looking straight-ahead at the camera... which could mean nothing /ref

as the final chorus plays, there's a different, darker static filter over their shared screen. they're all singing together until the very end, where only Soul remains singing. the lyrics change too, from 'looking back and out through mine', to 'looking back and into mine'

... and then we fade into Ruler of Everything. *stock sfx of children cheering*

considering how both Spring and a Storm and Ruler of Everything were covered before there was a story planned, the fact that CJ chose Night to bridge them together works perfectly IMO. we go from 'some semblance of peace' to 'an attempt an harmony' to 'nevermind shit has hit the fan'

I could in theory talk about Light as well, but I don't have a whole lot to say about it compared to Night, as it doesn't have as many minute details that Night does (none that I've noticed, at least). I imagine it's due to the lyrics being far more straight forward to the CCCC lore, since Night is more of a 'faithful' cover compared to Light (which was very much intentional, IIRC)

so yeah. that's my Night analysis, kind of 👍 I didn't proof-read this post as much as I did the other so I may edit this post later if I notice a glaring issue later on or want to reword anything or something. little carbonation and I'll see you next time, later /ref

[obvithe-bestsoph]

perfect strangers.

masterlist requests word count: 990

a/n: literally the entire inspiration for this fic was the song "perfect strangers" by jonas blue and jp cooper lol. h[ope you enjoy it, because it was actually really fun to write, and i'd love to do more fics like this! genre: fluff. warnings: partying, alcohol, kissing. (but not in like an angsty way If you get what I mean)

summary: you meet pablo gavi at a rooftop party and end the night no longer strangers.

The music’s loud enough to rattle your ribs, and the rooftop’s packed full of people doing all sorts of things - dancing, yelling, drinking like it’s the only thing they know how to do. And somehow, it all works. The night feels bigger than it should. 

Your drink’s half-warm, your hair’s messy and sticking to your neck and forehead, and you’re pretty sure that you’ve smiled more in the last hour than you have in the past month. This wasn’t supposed to be a real party, just a friend of a friend’s birthday, but now it’s turned into something, loud, chaotic, and kinda perfect.

And then you see him. 

You’ve seen him around before, Pablo - or Gavi, depending on who’s yelling his name. But this is the first time he’s actually looked at you like this. Like he recognises you, even though you’ve never even spoken to one another. 

He walks up like he’s already in the middle of a conversation with you. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he shouts over the music, grinning. 

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve literally never talked to you.”

He laughs. “Exactly.”

You snort. “Right. That makes total sense.”

“I just think it’s kind of a waste, y’know?” he says, brown eyes not leaving yours. “Feels like we should’ve met already.”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “That’s your pick-up line?”

“Not really. I’m just being honest.”

Your brain tells you to walk away. To say something sarcastic and disappear back into the massive crowd. But it’s summer, it’s late, and you’re bored in that specific kind of way that makes bad decisions seem good. 

So, instead, you say, “Alright then. Let’s fix it.”

He holds out a hand. “Dance with me?”

You don’t think twice. 

You end up dancing in that way that isn’t really dancing, just moving to the beat of the music and singing obnoxiously, bumping into each other and half-laughing the whole time. He’s not a bad dancer, but he’s not trying too hard. He’s famous, but he doesn’t act like he’s better than anyone else here. Just like he’s enjoying the party even more now that you’re standing in front of him.

He spins you once, just to mess with you, and you roll your eyes, but go with it. He catches you when you tipsily almost lose your balance, and you both laugh like idiots. 

“You always like this?” you ask, yelling over the music. 

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve got it all figured out. Cool and charming or whatever.” He leans closer so you can hear him. “I just go with it.”

“You’re saying this isn’t all part of your plan?”

“Nah. But if it was, it’d probably end with us making out on my couch.”

You laugh, not because it’s the perfect line, because it certainly isn’t, but because he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“You’re full of it,” you tell him. “Maybe. You gonna kiss me or what?” “Not yet.”

“Okay,” he replies, still grinning and dancing. “I can wait.”

You pull him away from the crowd when the sweat and noise get to be too much. The stairwell is quiet, cooler, kinda dirty, but neither of you cares. You lean against the wall and take a breath, looking at him in the soft yellow lighting. 

He looks different here. Less cocky, more curious and handsome. Like he wants to ask you something, but his mind can’t quite put the question together. 

“Alright,” he says after a second. “Give me something real.”

You squint at him. “What does that even mean?”

“Just… be honest. Not surface-level stuff.”

You pause, then shrug. “I don’t like getting too happy.” 

He frowns because that definitely isn’t the kind of answer he was expecting. “Why not?”

“Because… it never lasts. Night like this,” you gesture vaguely at the roof, “sadly, they fade. They don’t last.”

He leans against the wall next to you, not touching, but close. “Maybe that’s the point. That they’re not supposed to last.”

You look at him for a second before chuckling softly. “That’s actually kinda deep.”

He glances over, a small smile on his face. “Your turn to ask something.”

“Fine. Who are you when you’re not Gavi? Who’s just… plain old Pablo?”

He thinks about it. “Still figuring it out.”

You nod. Fair enough. 

It’s silent for a while. But it’s not awkward… It’s comfortable. Surprisingly.

“I don’t really feel like going back in, honestly,” you say quietly. 

“Then don’t.” “You’re not gonna get bored hiding in the stairwell with me?”

“Nope,” he says simply. 

You turn to him. “So what now then?” He meets your eyes. “Now I kiss you, if that’s alright.”

You don’t really say anything. Just step in a little closer. 

The kiss is soft. Not fireworks, not slow-motion, no heel popping, or sparkling eyes. Just two people who aren’t quite strangers anymore. His hand manages to find your waist, yours slides up to his neck, and for a second, the blaring music and the city and all the noise drop away. 

When you pull back, you’re still close. Foreheads almost touching. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. 

“That wasn’t bad,” you say. 

He raises an eyebrow, “Just… ‘not bad’?”

You laugh. “You’ll live.”

You end up sitting on the curb out front, so late, or rather, early, that the sun has started to rise, the sky a beautiful golden pink. His hoodie is draped over your shoulders. The street’s mostly empty now, except for the few drunken young people stumbling towards their Ubers. 

He bumps your shoulder. “So… we’re not strangers anymore, huh?”

You glance over at him. “Guess not.”

He nods like that settles things. Like he knew it would go like this from when he first asked to dance. 

You lean back on your hands, exhale slowly, and let yourself enjoy the moment. 

The night didn’t last… but maybe this could.

[unholyfudgebiscuits]

Domestic Sterek

I like the idea of Stiles surprising Derek in random, normal, every day things. No magic or supernatural creatures. Just little domestic shit that always catches Derek off guard.

Like one day Stiles arrives at the loft 2 hours earlier than the pack meeting is scheduled, carrying bags of groceries. Derek asks what the hell he thinks he's doing when Stiles is just like "My class was canceled and everyone is always starving when they get here so I thought I'd make some food for the pack.' Derek will say he can order pizza or something but Stiles insists he brought the ingredients and he has the time so Derek just shrugs and leaves him to the kitchen. Everyone finally arrives and the loft smells like heaven. The pack gathers around on the floor in a circle, balancing heaping plates of lasagna on their laps and Derek falls quiet in shock because holy hell it tastes just as good as his mother used to make.

After a pretty intense fight the packs gather at the loft, bloody and bruised and tired and the majority decide just to crash there since it's so late. Stiles busies himself with laying out blankets and pillows for the group while Scott and Isaac fight over who gets the shower first and Derek freezes when he hears the human singing to himself. He has to do a double take because Stiles actually has a really good singing voice and Derek never really paid much attention to music before but he can't get the song out of his head for weeks after.

Derek comes home one day, tired and moody and almost growls in annoyance when he notices Stiles sitting on the couch with his back to him. He sighs, about to tell him he needs to leave and now isn't a good time when he walks around to see Stiles sitting crossed legged on the sofa, Derek's leather jacket in one hand and needle and thread in the other. Derek's mind turns to static because what the fuck? When Stiles looks up at him sheepishly. "Ah, I noticed the zipper was coming off the seam so I brought my mom's old sewing kit." All the fight drains out of Derek. It's probably the nicest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever really done for him so he just nods dumbly and sits next to Stiles as he hums and sews.

It's that moment that Derek realizes how much Stiles is ingrained in his life. His smell lingers so heavily that he can't find a corner of his home that doesn't have the human beta's scent. The sound of his voice—even when he's talking excitedly about some nerdy interest— is soothing in the otherwise too quiet room. Derek isn't sure when his presence had turned from familiar to essential but he does know that the loft doesn't feel like home unless Stiles is there.

[otomedetective]

genre subversions of dating sims by people who don't understand dating sims are just like. "wow isn't it so pathetic that you're playing this instead of getting a real relationship?" (i don't know where "dating sim that becomes a horror game" goes on the subversion scale)

meanwhile i haven't seen one that is made by someone who loves the genre. i am worried that my "what if the love interests hated being in the game but it's because the script is too restrictive" is too mean to dating sims. i swear using a dating sim script as a metaphor for being forced into certain kinds of femininity is NOT reflective of my views of dating sims it's FINE to play dating sims--

Yeah, I agree~ I would say that the "secretly a horror game" twist kinda depends on the game and how it treats its characters. Like, Hatoful Boyfriend has a neat twist to it while still feeling like it treats its characters and story with love, so I was honestly a little surprised to find out its creator doesn't play otome at all. I haven't play DDLC personally, but I've heard a similar sort of story about its creator I think? I feel like so many people set out to subvert the dating sim genre specifically because they think of it as a joke or because they think it's so easy to replicate without any experience.

I love genre subversions, so I would love to see a good one in the otome genre. BUT~ In response to your other point, I also think that being critical of a genre you like and/or using that genre to make a critique of something like societal standards for femininity & such doesn't necessarily come across as hateful to the genre. In fact, I think that really good genre subversions DO use the genre conventions to make a critique of something (whether it's a critique of society or of the genre itself) because that's what makes the subversion interesting.

I'm gonna use one of my favorite genre subversions as an example real quick: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is a great twist on the genre conventions that exist in musical theatre as a medium, and it uses its subversion to make a critique about conformity through its main metaphor (ie: an alien hivemind makes people sing and dance and the show's hero is the one guy who hates musicals). It's a great horror-comedy that's clearly made by people who love musicals, even if its protagonist hates them and there are important plot reasons for why you really don't want your favorite characters to be singing.

BUT!! The important thing is that while it subverts expectations for what you'd expect from a musical and uses the songs & hivemind as a metaphor for enforced conformity, the show never makes the audience feel stupid for liking the genre. It's campy, and it's silly, and the main character is the voice of dissent, but it doesn't leave you with a feeling that the genre as a whole is stupid or bad, or that you're stupid for liking it. Because it's made out of love for the genre. Which is the main thing I think.

It's really important for these types of stories to critique the right things. There has to be more thought put into it than just "look at this genre, isn't it weird/stupid/bad? well we're gonna change things and be Not-Like-Those-Other-Things because we're the Cool/Edgy/Ironic Take on this genre!!" (ie: don't critique the audience or make them feel bad for enjoying the genre you chose. or do, but do it consciously and know that your audience is primarily going to be other people who dislike the genre -- which is probably why so many gag dating sims are popular since it's pretty common to look down on the genre). What I mean is, if the whole point of the critique is that the original genre is stupid, it's probably a bad and thoughtless critique.

But anywho, I think your critique is totally fine and really cool actually. It's okay to be mean to a genre you like as a form of critique, and I think it's really good actually to think deeper about the stories you love and consider them critically. The problems with genre subversion come up when people who don't really know or like the genre decide to subvert it just because they think poorly of it, y'know?

[is-today-tomorrow-in-nz]

I went back to the books multiple times to see if the Fold was something that was actually blocking Ravka's progress but I always came up empty.

Ravka, especially the Eastern part was in extreme poverty. The weapons were old and outdated. They were far behind other countries(including their western counter part) in technological advancements. If they remove the Fold without fixing themselves internally, Ravka would cease to exist. Aleksander's plan was solid. A threat of an ancient force to stop all wars was a decent solution to buy some time. So I wondered why then the destruction of the Fold was pushed heavily as a solution and my answer always pointed to Nikolai.

Nikolai was all about aesthetics than true patriotism. Right from joining the army to connecting himself with Alina, everything was calculated and performative. He knew that the surest way to win over the uneducated masses would be to play with their superstitions. Not just that, it would be the only way to separate him from his family's legacy. He wanted to rebrand himself. So what better way to do it than being looked upon as the 'saviour' of Ravka?

He had the opportunity to see the conflicts between Alina and Aleksander first-hand in his ship and played her hero every chance he got. He knew her delusions and played into it. He kept feeding into her hatred for Aleksander and 'encouranged' her to take down the Fold. When the Darkling seized the throne, he went as far as to cut off the food supply, so his people would starve and the hatred for the Darkling would grow (not that it needed much to begin with anyway), which mind you, not even the 'evil' Darkling did.

So for a person who believes in the power of negotiations; a person who went as far as to sit down with a random noble the whole night to drink as a negotiation tactic, didn't have it him to negotiate with the Darkling? For a pragmatic, logical person, he sure jumped on the 'kill the Darkling' bandwagon pretty quickly.

Surely a clever politician such as Nikolai would see the vulnerability taking down the Fold would present. But no, his ego wanted the throne and it was easier to start a smear campaign on Aleksander than to accept and punish the wrong doings of his family. A patriotic person, a person who is invested in the well being of his people would have tried his father publically. But Nikolai didn't. For a person desperate to right the wrongs of his family, he quietly buried their sins under a rug. Same goes for the Second Army. For a person who claimed to be the patron of Grisha, he never once investigated into the sham trials the FA conducted. If he did, he would lose their support with the First Army and people alike. So he spoke brave words and did nothing.

It was all about performance with Nikolai. That's why he was desperate to remove the Fold. That's why he was desperate to attach himself to Alina. People would accept him on the throne if he, a known bastard, fought off a worthy villain and removed the 'blight' of the country. And all the foolish people fell for it including the likes of Alina, Zoya and Genya.

Then as soon as the war was over- he 'pardoned' Genya, made Zoya the General, happily sent Alina away with a treasure(kept sending her gifts every year too). He secured his position very cleverly, so on one would think twice about it or doubt him.

And when things went exactly the way Aleksander predicted, he needed another power-maxed Grisha dragon to settle it all and then he made a show of abdicating the throne for the 'greater good'. He was still a consort and powerful, it's not like he went away on exile or anything.

The Grishaverse was his hubris. He was neglected as a child and wanted to prove them wrong. He wanted all the people who called him a bastard to sing his praises as a hero. That's all. He did not care for Ravka or Grisha.

Nikolai is the true villain and I'll stand by it.

I could never side with Alina, Mal, Nikolai, Zoya, or the others, because their so-called mission was built on naive idealism and staggering ignorance of power. The destruction of the Fold, which they paraded as some kind of moral triumph, was in reality a fatal strategic failure. The Fold was not just a curse. It was a wall that kept predators at bay. For all its danger, it created a necessary boundary that stopped Fjerda and Shu Han from tearing Ravka apart. Erasing it while knowing enemies waited just beyond was not heroism. It was recklessness. It was the act of people playing at leadership, people who had never had to make real decisions with real consequences.

In eliminating the Fold, they stripped Ravka of more than a barrier. They removed a symbol of power, a geopolitical fact that demanded caution from aggressors. The moment the Fold vanished, Ravka stood naked before its enemies. Aleksander’s disappearance only made this worse. With him gone, the Grisha lost the one person who had fought for them with more than empty speeches and fragile alliances. No new defense was put in place. No army strong enough to hold the borders. No plan to deal with foreign aggression. No system to protect Grisha from being hunted in the streets. Alina and the others replaced harsh reality with fantasy. And fantasies don’t survive war.

Aleksander’s decision at the port was not cruelty. It was strategy. It was power used with restraint, directed at those who posed a real and immediate threat: Zlatan and the Drüskelle. They were not innocents. They were murderers gathering to destroy Grisha lives and destabilize the region. Aleksander acted fast and with precision. He didn’t revel in bloodshed, but he did what was required. He made sure the message was clear: Ravka is not yours to carve up. That is not evil. That is leadership. That is what real rulers do when their people are in danger.

Meanwhile, Nikolai stood delivering polished words that meant nothing. Alina and Mal congratulated themselves for their purity, while leaving a shattered nation defenseless. It was not only shortsighted — it was insulting. Their performative virtue was empty in the face of nations that had long wanted to see Ravka burn. Their ignorance of realpolitik wasn’t just foolish. It was dangerous. And in a world that mirrors our own — where aggressors wait for weakness — their choices feel not only unrealistic, but offensive.

Fjerda would waste no time. Shu Han would make their move. Civil unrest would ignite as the false promise of peace fell apart. Grisha would be scapegoated and butchered. Aleksander’s absence would be a gaping hole no one else could fill. The monarchy would collapse, exposed as ornamental and hollow. And the so-called heroes would become the architects of their nation’s downfall, remembered not as saviors, but as the ones who opened the gates and let the wolves in.

Aleksander was never the villain. He was the only one who saw the entire board. He knew that peace is not given, it’s enforced. Hope alone is not a strategy. Fear is what keeps the enemy from crossing your border, from hunting your people, from tearing your country apart. He understood that to lead in a brutal world, you sometimes must make brutal choices — not because you want to, but because no one else will. In removing him and the Fold, Alina and her allies didn’t end Ravka’s suffering. They ensured it would grow.

[twinksintrees]

hey. hey bears in trees. you cant write this shit when my best friend plans on moving away across the ocean. it’s too soon for this.

[anti-enashinonome]

I would love to participate in the 'songs I want in pjsk' thing but unfortunately, I know like 4 non pjsk vocaloid songs lol rip

[seaofreverie]

I'm back and Guys they played my favourite song they played where your eyes don't go and they played spy and last wave and the darlings of lumberland and let me tell you about my operation and

[spacemanxpaninis]

Saw this activity die a while back! Self shippers, imagine rolling this with your f/o(s)! Anything you’d like to do most?

[sun-marie]

this whole discussion around rap is a reminder for me how silly the concept of loving/hating and ENTIRE GENRE of music is to me.

Like. Do y'all have any idea how much music there is in the world. I can Guarantee you every genre has AT LEAST ONE song that clicks with you, you just gotta find it

[widevibratobitch]

nothing sad but i need to bitch and im tired and need to frow up