#shes just been very in the background about it

[colormepurplex2]

Golden Cufflinks | JJK

▻ Golden Cufflinks ↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ Best Friend's Fiance, Strangers to True Mates ⤜ A/B/O AU | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 11,742 ⤜ Summary: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. ⚠️ Crass language, talk of designation hierarchy, mild talk of misogynistic practices of the past, confessions of cheating(not by main pairing), anger/arguments, kissing, dick sucking, mild cum intrigue, maybe mild breeding kink if you squint, unprotected v. sex, knotting, lots of slick and cum

Written for @hisunshiine as part of the 2nd Quarter 2023 @bangtanwritershq Awards Season! A/N: Congratualtions, Vanessa. You deserve all the kudos for a job well done during the 2nd Quarter 2023, I hope you enjoy the story!

A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi, @lo1k-diamonds, @moonleeai for the amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Nerves flutter in your belly as you gather your belongings from the plastic bin at the end of the rolling conveyor belt on the other side of security. As you walk away, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you have to juggle your purse and jacket to retrieve it.

You feel bad for making Hayun, your best friend for as long as you can remember, wait for a response, but you desperately just want to find your gate and have a seat first. Once you find it and settle in at a chair by the big windows looking out on the tarmac, you thumb to her contact.

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you right now for making me wait so long for a response,” Hayun sasses before her voice softens, “Hello, I love you.”

“Love you, too, girl,” you say, unable to help the smile that tilts your lips up. “Sorry, I’ve been MIA for the last few hours. Things have been hectic. I misplaced my passport this morning, but I finally found it under the bed and then missed the hotel shuttle. I had to call a rideshare, but of course, it took them forever to get through airport traffic, and ugh…” you trail off with a sigh. “I’m sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning.”

Which was approximately four hours ago at this point. Your flight is set to take off less than an hour from now, so you imagine boarding might start soon. You’re not exaggerating when you say it’s been hectic. It was bad enough waking up at 3 AM, but you’re a chronic planner and stickler for time, so missing your flight was the absolute last thing you wanted to happen.

“Oh, babe, that sucks. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I really can’t wait to see you!”

The conversation passes quickly, easing your heart and mind as you catch up on the last twenty-four hours. You haven’t seen Hayun in a handful of years. Her career took her to the other side of the world, and yours kept you where you both grew up. The last time you saw her was through a haze of tears at this very airport when she boarded a plane destined for Seoul, South Korea, where she was adopted from at just two years old.

Visiting each other was always something you both talked about. But, as with most things, life just happens, and eventually, you find yourself making that visit you always talked about for reasons you never considered before—like your best friend tying the knot with a guy you’ve never met.

Sure, you’ve seen pictures of him and have heard him talk in the background of most of the phone calls you’ve exchanged with Hayun over the last few years. But, it was never on your friendship bingo card that the next time you’d find yourself seeing your best friend, it would be her at her wedding.

“I gotta go. They’re about to start boarding.”

“I’ll see you when you land. Can’t wait!”

Hayun disconnects the call, and you gather your belongings to prepare to line up in the boarding queue. It will be a long flight, but seeing Hayun again after so long apart will be worth it.

You fiddle with the bracelet on your left wrist, twisting and pinching at the silver moon charm dangling from the thin chain. Hayun has a matching one. They were presents from your parents on the day you were both recognized with your designations; she was thirteen, and you were fifteen.

The dynamics of Alphas and Omegas have long since changed from what it once was. Legend has it that once upon a time, an Alpha and an Omega were closer to their wolf-kin than how the world is now. Thanks to evolution and science, the only things remaining from that time are the more basic bodily functions—scents, knots, and slick, to sum it up.

The crescent charm on your wrist symbolizes your designation—Omega. But being an Omega doesn’t hold much meaning for you. You don’t feel all that special, and it’s not like you’re rare or any more or less capable than the next person. As it stands, you can see at least a dozen other moons jangling from bracelets, waiting to board the same plane you are.

There are also necklaces, tattoos, and other ways to display a designation scattered around the waiting area. The how of it is mostly regional, sometimes generational. The Beta standing behind you in the queue has a teardrop earring dangling from their left ear, and if it weren’t for the pheromone blockers you took this morning, you might be able to smell their unique scent.

You also have your own smell, a scent that is just you. You’ve been told it’s a sweet, citrusy bouquet like lemonade on a hot summer afternoon. However, also thanks to the blockers, it remains suppressed to the point someone would have to make you bleed or press their nose so firmly against your throat it hurts to smell it.

There really is only one thing that a lot of people are envious of when it comes to an Omega’s designation, and that is that they supposedly have an Alpha true mate out there somewhere that will call to their baser nature. It’s such a rare phenomenon these days that it might as well be part of the legends of old, too.

The bottom line is that no one cares about subgenders anymore; it doesn't matter whether your charm is the Omega crescent, the teardrop of a Beta, or the triskelion denoting an Alpha. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could ask the Beta for their earring and offer them your charm bracelet and no one would bat an eye over it.

Though you’d never do that, considering the chain around your wrist isn’t technically yours. The night after you presented as Omega, when you snuck away with Hayun to lay on a blanket under the stars and moon that was so like the charm hanging from your twin bracelets, you giggled as you exchanged them. Her tiny fingers trembled against your wrist as she secured her silver chain around it. You did the same with your own around hers a second later.

It was that night that you both swore always to be friends. No matter what happened in life or where either of you ended up, you would always remain true to one another. So far, your friendship has been unfailing, a constant thread of comfort and light for you both. No matter how long it’s been, the charm still smells faintly of your best friend—a perk of the charms themselves, holding a token essence of their owners. Hers holds a soft lilac and jasmine scent that you’ve always thought complimented your own citrus notes.

The flight attendant scanning boarding passes beckoning you forward breaks you out of your internal reflections. With a full heart and giddy anticipation curling in your belly, you find your seat and settle in.

It’s a long flight, longer than most flights you’ve taken. But when you finally walk off the plane, make it through customs and immigration, and finally empty into the arrivals terminal of the Incheon Airport, you feel immediate relief, and the hours spent in the air don’t seem so bad.

“Hey, over here!” a familiar voice calls out, catching your attention.

You spin on your heel, confusion setting in for just a moment before it’s replaced by another wave of relief and a little of something warmer. Taehyung, Hayun’s adopted brother, swamps you in a giant bear hug that quite literally sweeps you off of your feet.

“Wow, hey. This is a surprise. What are you doing here? Where’s Hayun?”

Taehyung scrunches up his face, letting out a small scoff. “It’s a good surprise, I hope. Something came up, and she had to meet with the wedding planner and caterer at the last minute. She called me and asked if I could pick you up.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah,” you confirm with a smile. “Good surprise.”

It’s no secret that you’ve always been fond of Taehyung. As a baby, you were toddling around with him long before his family adopted Hayun. She ended up being the sister you never knew you needed, even if you were a few years older.

When she moved to Seoul for work, Taehyung ended up being the physical representation that took her place. He flew out a week before you to help her with planning and will stay for a few weeks after you’ve already headed back home. They may have had their differences over the years, but their sibling bond is stronger than petty arguments and rivalries.

“Ready to get on the road? It’s a long drive.”

Hours later, with the rolling countryside and farms dotting the horizon, you discover the fiasco inside your backpack. The bottle of pheromone blockers you packed this morning somehow got shuffled to the bottom of your bag and popped open. The once-powder-filled capsules litter the bottom of your bag, broken open. Pale blue powder coats your things, the mild flower smell of the medicine lingering in the air.

“Fucking hell,” you groan. “Any chance there’s a clinic somewhere between here and where we’re going?”

“Unfortunately, no.” He frowns, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, making the triskelion signet ring on his index finger glitter in the mid-day sun. “We’d probably have to turn around and head nearly three hours back to get anywhere near a clinic with blockers. I'm told most people don’t use them anymore these days here. Maybe another one of the wedding party might have some you could borrow if you really need them. But, honestly, I don’t see anyone minding if you don’t use them.”

“Most people here don’t use them anymore?”

“Well, yeah, with the progression of equality and things like that. They’re so great here, way more progressive than back home. It’s very common for Omegas to go off of blockers or never even begin them. Laws have been implemented to punish Alphas who can’t control themselves. The responsibility of remaining safe shouldn’t be solely set on the shoulders of the Omega population.”

Talk like that has only recently become popular back home. You’ve heard the speeches and followed the media and the sources, but you suppose after nearly half of your life taking blockers, it just comes naturally to continue to do so.

“Hm, yeah, okay. I guess it’s no big deal, really. As long as you’re sure people won’t mind?”

Taehyung sniffs the air, his nose twitching. “I think you smell great, but just in case not everyone does, if someone says something, then I’ll personally drive all the way back to the city and pick you up some,” Taehyung promises, giving you one of his swoon-worthy smiles.

The crush you once upon a time had on Taehyung threatens to spark anew at the sight of his charming, boxy grin—a grin you would have once done anything to pull from him. But now, it just fills you with warmth and a homey comfort.

You give him a smile of your own. “Deal.”

“Hayun!”

Her squeal of delight when she turns around and catches sight of you echoes through the open space of the dimly lit bar of the bed and breakfast where the wedding is taking place.

It’s a cozy space with rich dark wood accents and royal blue velvet upholstery. Brass gas lamps and light fixtures give the entire lounge an upscale and chic atmosphere that you know is right up Hayun’s alley.

The few hours you had between checking in at the bed and breakfast and meeting Hayun for her very small—just you and one other person—bachelorette party were spent familiarizing yourself with the grounds.

The ceremony will take place in one of the lavish gardens, and the reception will follow in one of the grand dining halls. For a bed and breakfast, it’s far fancier than any you’ve ever been to. It definitely does not have the mom-and-pop feel that you typically associate with the term ‘B&B’.

“You’re here!” she shrills, throwing her arms around your neck.

Her petite form fits just like it always has against yours. Thick black hair, shorter than the last time you saw it, curls around the rounded lines of her cheeks, and her brown eyes are bright and glisten with happy tears. With her bubbly personality and small, wispy frame, she's always reminded you of a fairy.

You sigh, taking a deep breath and savoring your best friend's soft, floral scent. Thanks to the bracelet tinkling around her wrist, it holds the smallest undercurrent of your sweet citrus. Clearly, she’s not taking blockers; the scents are heavy and delightful. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Hayun sucks in a deep breath that mirrors yours. “Wow, babe, you smell good! Finally gone off the blockers, huh?”

“Uh, kind of,” you chuckle, untangling yourself from her arms. “I brought some, but they broke open in my bag at some point.” You shrug. “Tae said it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s not. Absolutely not,” Hayun agrees, grinning broadly. “I’ve been off them for years and haven’t had a single issue. Come on, let’s have a drink and catch up!”

You settle in at a table, and it’s not long before Eunseo, Hayun’s other guest, joins you. You’ve heard a lot about Eunseo. Much the same way Taehyung took the place of Hayun for you, Eunseo took your place for Hayun. You half expect to feel some sort of friendship jealousy upon meeting Eunseo for the first time, but it doesn’t come. If anything, you’re immediately fond of the young woman.

The evening carries on, Hayun and Eunseo regaling you with tales from working together and their various adventures around Seoul. Eunseo shows genuine interest in your life back home, seeming eager to hear stories of Hayun’s childhood. She shows a particular interest in Taehyung, asking you in no certain terms more than you think is appropriate to share.

“But you’ve seen it, right?” Eunseo asks. Her elbows rest on the table, and her chin is nestled on her clasped hands, her eyes wide and glassy from the countless glasses of wine she’s had. “I bet it’s huge. Am I right?”

“Ugh,” Hayun groans. “Can we not talk about my brother’s dick. Please.” She makes a gagging sound before slurping down the rest of her cocktail and flagging down a passing waiter for another.

You try to wave off the waiter, but he’s turned toward the bar before you can get his attention. If Hayun has much more to drink, you’re not sure she’ll be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow unassisted.

“I’m just curious. It’s a harmless question,” Eunseo pouts. “Ignore her. Tell me. I just have to know.”

You swirl the straw around in your glass of water before giving Eunseo what you hope is a conspiratorial look. “Well—”

“What?! Ew. Are you really about to answer her? Please, dear god, do not tell me you have seen my brother’s penis. If you’ve seen it—fuck, I might actually puke.”

As much as you probably shouldn’t, you laugh, which earns further protests and obscene noises from Hayun.

“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that maybe Eunseo should ask him herself.”

Hayun howls a protest, sloshing her new cocktail onto the table as she gesticulates a crude hand gesture in your direction. “Do not. I repeat, do not do that, Eunseo!”

The conversation peters off, Hayun losing herself in another cocktail while Eunseo stares dreamily up at the ceiling.

“I think—hiccup—it's bedtime,” Eunseo slurs.

As if right on cue, a familiar face peeks through the entrance to the lounge. You wave Taehyung down, and he comes jogging across the space to your table. His shirt is rumpled with the top few buttons undone, but his eyes are clear, and you know he’ll be a perfect gentleman.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, pitching your voice low.

“I got this, don’t worry. We finished up a few hours ago anyway.”

Taehyung gives you a warm, private smile before turning to Eunseo. “Hey there, beautiful. Let’s get you on to bed, okay?”

“Where’s my savior?” Hayun asks, frowning after her brother escorting Eunseo from the lounge and back through the front lobby.

“Right here,” you tell her, sliding out of your chair and coming around to her side of the table. “Come on, let’s go.”

It takes you more than twice as long as it usually would to get to Hayun’s room. She leans against the wall in the hall as you dig through her pockets in search of her room key. Once you find it tucked between a few stray bills and her ID, you usher her into the room and deposit her onto the bed.

Her fiance has a room on the other side of the grounds, but after the ceremony, they will both be moving into one of the couple’s suites for the night before jet-setting off to Jeju Island for their week-long honeymoon.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

Hayun’s question catches you off guard. You throw a confused look at her over your shoulder as you rummage through her suitcase in search of something for her to sleep in.

“What?”

She sighs as she rolls over, letting her head hang off the edge of the bed so she can look at you upside down. “Marrying Jungkook. It’s a mistake…so why am I doing it?”

“Hayun…what are you talking about? Jungkook is perfect for you. You guys have been dating for five years, and you told me you’ve never been happier. Where’s the mistake in that?”

The sound Hayun makes is akin to something a wounded animal might make. She flops, flailing her arms and legs like a child throwing a fit.

“That’s the thing, though! I’m happy, but I don’t love him. Oh god,” she cries. “I don’t love him.”

“Hey, hey now.” You abandon the search for sleeping clothes and crawl across the floor until you’re kneeling beside the bed. Smoothing your hand across her forehead, you ask, “Where is all this coming from?”

“He thinks I’m his true mate,” she whispers. The tears leaking from her eyes slide up her face, wetting the edges of her eyebrows before sliding over her forehead and disappearing into her hair. “But I know he’s not mine.”

“Wh—wait, what?” You push up from the floor and move onto the bed, gathering your best friend’s head into your lap so she’s no longer hanging upside down off the side of the bed.

She hiccups a sob, lips trembling as she explains, “He says I’m his true mate, that he knows because of my scent. But he doesn’t smell special to me…how is that possible?”

“Hayun, I don’t—”

“I cheated on him,” she whimpers in confession, cutting off what were going to be your soothing words of affirmation. They sour on your tongue, refusing to be released now.

Your stomach churns at her admittance. “You what?”

“You have every right to judge me. I’m a terrible person. But, when he told me I was his true mate…I panicked. I had to be sure I wasn’t broken, that me not finding his scent special wasn’t just something wrong with me.” Hayun blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears as they begin to come in earnest. She clutches at the front of her shirt, hand fisting over her heart. “So, I slept with two Alphas that I work with to see if it was any different. I had to be sure. I had to know.”

“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”

“I’m such a fucking mess,” she sobs, curling in on you and pressing her face against your stomach. “I don’t deserve him. I only said yes to marrying him because I don’t want to be alone forever. I can’t be like you. I need someone.”

Her words sting, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You watch as she falls apart in your lap, ultimately giving in to her grief. It’s on the tip of your tongue to call her out on her childish behavior, to set the record straight about your own love life, and to leave her to her wallowing. But…the shaking of her shoulders and soft whines from her remind you so much of a younger and more fragile Hayun—the Hayun of your shared childhoods.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” No matter how you might feel about her actions and the hurtful words she’s spilled, you hate to see your best friend so distraught and broken. “Hey, look at me.”

You wait until her watery eyes peel away from your shirt and meet yours. “Tell me you hate me; it’s okay.”

“Hayun, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You made…a mistake, that’s all. You were trying to figure things out. But…Hayun, you…you have to tell him.”

She frowns up at you, her expression sobering. “Tell him?”

“He’s about to marry you, Hayun. That’s a big freaking deal…you have to tell him tomorrow morning before anything else happens.”

The laugh that bubbles from her lips is anything but humorous. “I-I can’t do that! He’ll hate me. He’ll call the wedding off!” She shoves out of your lap and stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“If Jungkook truly loves you and says you’re his true mate, I don’t see that happening. But, he deserves to know. You have to know that. Either you tell him now, or he finds out years from now, and then it’ll be so much worse,” you try to reason with her.

“He doesn’t have to know!” she whisper-yells, her tears turning from sad to angry in an instant.

You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing from her. “This isn’t right, Hayun. You can’t go into a marriage with someone with secrets like that!”

“It’s not like it’ll happen again. I’m not going to cheat on him while we’re married. Please,” she begs, her face once more softening into saddened anguish. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“He deserves to know, Hayun,” you whisper, remembering your own keen sting of betrayal from many years ago. There is a reason you don’t date much. “You say it won’t happen again?” you ask, trying to buy yourself some time to process everything Hayun just told you.

Her silence is deafening, and you think she’s about to not answer you the way you hope, but, finally, she murmurs, “No. Never. I swear it.”

“Okay. Okay, good. But, he still needs to know.”

Just because you’ve never actually met Jungkook, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for him. He’s the one who puts a smile on Hayun’s face when you can’t. He’s the reason she’s as happy as she is…or has been? Now, you’re not so sure. But, what you are certain about is that Hayun is far too drunk right now to know up from down and is just having a moment of raw vulnerability.

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, voice a hoarse whisper.

You chew your bottom lip for a moment before slowly shaking your head. Thinking about it, even if you didn’t care for Jungkook, he still deserves to know on pure principle. “No. I won’t tell him.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, which has you tacking on, “Because it’s not my place to tell him, it’s yours.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She doesn’t say anything more beyond that, falling into a listless stupor, all of her energy sapped from the quick argument and endless cocktails from the bar.

After you wrestle her out of her clothes and put on a long nightgown, she tucks easily into bed. You leave a glass of water on the bedside table for her, then exit the room and head to your own.

A pang of uncertainty refuses to quell in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn most of the night, falling into a fitful sleep just before the sun begins to kiss the horizon. It’s going to be a long day…a battle of wills you never saw coming.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook

Today is the big day, and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Nothing could possibly bring him down from the high he’s feeling. Not even the fact that he is unable to find the cufflinks that were passed down to him by his father.

“Did you check the pockets of all your pants?” Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend, asks from where he’s lounging in one of the chairs on the other side of Jungkook’s hotel room.

“Yes,” he mutters, dumping his entire suitcase onto the bed to rifle through it once again. “I remember putting them with the pile of Hayun’s—oh fuck.”

“That’s great,” Taehyung sighs. “So my sister probably has them.” He checks his watch. “We don’t really have time to go on a scavenger hunt through her room. Jimin and I are supposed to meet the photographer to get started on some of the bride and groomsmen shots.”

Jungkook purses his lips and rakes his hands through his hair as he thinks of a solution. “I’d go look myself, but what if I run into Hayun between here and there? She specifically requested that we not see each other until the ceremony.”

Taehyung hums lightly. “I think I have an idea. The other girls don’t meet for pictures until after we’re done. So…yeah…okay…done,” he murmurs, tapping away at his phone screen. “If they’re in Hayun’s things, they’ll be delivered to you soon.”

“Thanks, Taehyung, you’re a lifesaver.”

Minutes later, Jungkook finds himself alone, Taehyung and Jimin having gone to meet with the photographer. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of his room, his fiancee is probably smiling and laughing as she poses in front of the camera. If only Jungkook could see through walls. He’d give anything for even just a little glimpse of his bride-to-be.

When Jungkook first met Hayun almost six years ago, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to track her scent. The meeting he was heading for was instantly forgotten, replaced by a visceral need to discover the source of that titillating aroma that had his hindbrain firing on all cylinders.

Never before had Jungkook experienced something so…primal. It was both alarming and utterly fascinating. Amongst the harsh scents of car exhaust and the warm notes of roasted coffee, Jungkook wove his way through the crowd on the sidewalk to the doors of a little cafe; Hayun was inside, ordering a matcha tea to-go, and the rest was history.

Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to stop daydreaming and fiddling with his shirt's empty cuffs and focus on putting together the rest of his suit.

The scent hits Jungkook a moment before the sound of a soft knock reaches his ears. He’s standing in the ensuite bathroom, mid-skin care routine. Wiping his wet fingers off onto a towel, he draws in a deep breath to confirm the aroma wafting to him from beyond the door of his room.

A roguish smirk quirks up one side of his mouth as he exits the bathroom and moves across the room. Unable to help himself, he opens the door. “Hayun,” he chuckles, fingers wrapping around the doorknob, “I thought we agreed that you…you are not Hayun.” The words tumble from his suddenly numb lips, rasping past his too-dry tongue.

“Umm, no. Not Hayun, sorry. You’re Jungkook?”

The woman standing before him is clearly not his fiancee. The woman’s purple gown is familiar, Jungkook knowing it’s what Hayun chose for her attending party. You’re a friend of Hayun, clearly, yet you smell exactly like Hayun…if Hayun smelled like Hayun times a thousand. The fragrance slams into his olfactory system, and the edges of his vision grow blurry a moment before he shakes his head and steadies himself with a hand on the doorjamb.

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice raspy with his suddenly dry throat. Revelations pounding him right between the eyes, washing through his body and keying right into his most basic of instincts.

Jungkook watches as your nostrils flare, and he knows it’s in that moment that you register his cedar and lavadin scent; the scent that marks him for what—who—he is.

“Jungkook,” you repeat his name, and he wants to howl with delight at how it sounds coming from your lips. “No. You can’t…it’s not—” your voice cuts off a second before you drop the small, black leather box you were holding and turn, disappearing in a flash of violet tulle and silk.

🥀🥀🥀

“Stop! Wait, please!” The shout of your name follows you down the hall, but you’re too focused on getting as far away from him and the feelings threatening to overwhelm you as you can.

“No, no, no,” you chant under your breath as you move as swiftly as the slippered feet will allow you to go without tripping yourself up.

It’s clearly not fast enough. It only takes a few frantic beats of your heart before a firm grip on your elbow draws you to a stumbling halt. The touch is electric, and your skin flushes with goosebumps at the heated contact.

“Don’t run,” Jungkook pants. “Please.”

You wretch your arm from his grip and whirl on him, a sharp remark ready on the tip of your tongue. Only, it dies there, never to be uttered, as your heart thumps violently in response to the look on his face—pure anguish.

Your voice is thread-thin as you finally manage to get words out, “This can’t be happening.”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, his lips tucked between his teeth. His emotions are stark on his face, and the conflict is raw and bare to you. Clearly, he’s warring the same as you, maybe even more so.

“Why do you smell like Hayun?” he asks, his voice soft in contrast to the raging storm you see in his eyes. “Why do you smell more like my true mate than she even does? Is this some wicked, cruel prank?”

You shake your head, intentionally drawing a breath through your mouth in hopes of saving your nose from another assault of his perfect scent. But, instead, his flavor laces over your tongue and slides down your throat to sit like a knot in your belly. You might as well have licked a stripe up his neck for all the good that did.

“I-I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to keep the pool of saliva under your tongue from dripping down your chin.

Jungkook steps closer to you, leading with his nose. He sniffs the air around you and something must not sit well with what he discovers because he rears back and bares his teeth. “Of course,” he mutters as his eyes drop to your left wrist.

Your eyes track his movement as he scoops up your wrist in a loose grip, and you realize it’s the bracelet there that has his attention. Everything clicks into place, and you feel like the faintest breeze could sweep you away with how lightheaded you’re feeling at this moment.

“We traded,” you whisper as if speaking low enough means the admission won’t utterly destroy the world as you know it.

“She’s not my true mate,” he states, voice as low as yours, fevered and quiet. “You are.”

Those words punch you in the chest, nearly taking you to your knees. If it weren’t for the hold Jungkook has on your wrist, you’re sure you’d be in a heap on the floor. As it is, he catches his other arm around your waist as you sway on the spot.

“Y-you shouldn’t.” Your protest is stilted, the words feeling robotic and unnatural as you gingerly press a hand against the arm that’s angled around your ribs. It was your intention to push his touch away, but the most you accomplish is flexing your fingers against the smooth cotton covering his thick bicep.

Somehow, you find yourself back in the room you had fled from just a few minutes ago. Jungkook settled you on the bed and is now pressing a chilled water bottle into your hands.

He kneels before you, headless of putting wrinkles in his black dress slacks. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt, his starched white button-up undone over it. The cuffs of the sleeves flop as he brings his hands into his lap and picks at the edges of his thumbnails.

Your eyes rove the room, catching on the black leather box still sitting on the floor by the door where you dropped it. Inside the box is nestled a pair of golden cufflinks—a pair you now understand have been passed down through the generations of Jeon men.

Absently, you press your thumb to your phone, unlocking it to reveal the text message that has irrevocably changed your life forever.

If you had known Taehyung’s text message requesting help would have led you to where you are right now, you’d probably have ignored it.

Yet, at the same time, if you had, you’d probably have had this revelation with Jungkook in the middle of the ceremony, and it would have caused all sorts of untoward chaos. No, it’s far better that it’s happening now instead of later. Maybe you can get ahead of this and fix it somehow. Though…

“Hey? You okay?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question. Sorry.”

“Huh? Oh. Umm…yeah. I don’t—what do we do now?” You turn your phone over, finger ghosting over the power button to lock the screen once more.

Jungkook sighs, and you can’t help watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, framing the swell of his defined chest with the action. He’s an exquisite specimen of masculinity, and even if it weren’t for the musky notes of his scent that mark him as your true mate, you’d find him devastatingly attractive.

“We need to tell Hayun. I c-can’t…I can’t marry her. Not when I’ve found—” he cuts off, wincing as his voice breaks. “I should go and find her. Now, before this can go any further. I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll find you later, okay?”

“Wait,” you call after him. He stops halfway to the door and glances back at you over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we tell her together?”

Jungkook chews the inside of his cheek a moment, his eyes flicking over your face as he thinks through your suggestion. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”

There is palpable tension between you and Jungkook as you follow behind him out of the main building. He texted Jimin, knowing he’d be the most reliable with his phone on him, asking where the photos were currently taking place.

It only took a few minutes for Jimin to respond that they were almost finished but were currently capturing some group shots on the walking path by the lake on the backside of the property.

You’re vaguely aware of where the lake is located, having given the map of the grounds that was posted on the backside of your room’s door a cursory look the day you arrived. It’s a relatively short distance, yet it feels like miles with the weight of pure dread sitting firmly on your shoulders.

At least it’s not a feeling you’re experiencing alone. Jungkook is right there with you, and you can clearly see the unease in the stiff way his body moves. The tips of his fingers twitch back in your direction every few steps like he’s fighting off the urge to slip them between your own.

The first person you catch sight of is Yoona, the photographer. She’s squatting in the grass, her large DSLR camera held up to her face, as she captures candid moments of Hayun, Taehyung, and Jimin repositioning themselves along the lake's edge.

Your heart squeezes hard at how beautiful Hayun is in her form-fitting silk ivory, off-the-shoulder wedding gown, the lacy bell sleeves fluttering around her hands. Her head is thrown back, the peel of her carefree laughter carrying to you and further crumbling your soul into a million pieces. You ache, not just for the desire to draw closer to your true mate, but for the inevitable aftermath of what is about to happen.

Taehyung is the first to notice you and Jungkook. The smile on his face slowly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown. Hayun catches his expression and follows his line of sight. Her gaze sears into you, and you feel like you might combust into a cloud of ash at any second with the irritation contained in her pretty brown eyes.

“What’s going on?” Hayun exclaims, throwing her hands up in a frustrated manner as she stalks towards you and Jungkook. “It’s not time for your photos yet,” she tells you before her eyes swing to Jungkook. “What happened to not seeing me before the wedding? That was your rule!”

“Hayun, we need to talk.”

“Talk about wh—” she cuts off, her question turning into a gasp. Your wide eyes flick to you. “You told him?”

“What? No!”

Your protest rings out at the same time that Jungkook says, “She’s my true mate.”

A breeze kicks up, sweeping from behind you and tossing errant strands of hair across Hayun’s forehead. You’d give anything for the power to pluck the wind from the air, shove it back…keep it from showering her with yours and Jungkook’s combined scents—a blatant confirmation echoing the words Jungkook just let loose.

Hayun stiffens. Her jaw goes rigid, and her face pales as her nostrils flare. It’s a moment that will be forever written across the band of your friendship. Betrayal flashes through her eyes before morphing into something akin to somber resignation.

“Hayun,” Jungkook begins. “I don’t—we didn’t…I’m sorry. What do we do?” He spreads his hands out in front of himself in a helpless manner.

By this time, Jimin and Taehyung have come up from behind Hayun, faces wary as they take in the scene with growing clarity. You look to Taehyung, hoping he can see the silent plea in your eyes.

“Explain,” Hayun says simply. Despite how collected she seems, you can see the subtle tremble in her hands and the way the muscles in her neck continue to flex and strain as she clenches and grinds her teeth.

Jungkook launches into recounting the events that brought you to his room and broke the proverbial dam. “We—we had no idea. I swear this is the first time we’ve ever met, and gods, the bracelets…” Jungkook trails off, a pained sound rumbling from his chest.

“Is this a joke?” Taehyung asks accusingly, and it’s like a barb to your heart.

“We wouldn’t do that.” Your croaked statement draws Hayun’s attention.

Hayun sniffles, her chin jerking a little higher into the air. “My nose tells me one thing, but my heart tells me another. Did you know about this last night? Is that why you pushed so hard for me to tell him?” The last part is whispered, meant only for you, which hurts even more.

“Hayun, no! You know that’s impossible. I couldn’t have known.”

“Tell me what?” Jungkook asks, having heard despite her whisper, his eyes swiveling between you and Hayun.

You shake your head at him, not wanting to throw further fuel on the fire. “Hayun, please, believe me.”

A pregnant moment full of thick tension passes before it fizzles, and Hayun shakes her head, not in a dismissive fashion but in gentle acceptance. “I believe you,” she tells you. “I guess…I guess there won’t be a wedding in four hours unless you two want…” She trails off, a bittersweet smile tugging at her cherry red painted lips.

Jungkook blanches, wide eyes landing on you. “What? Us? No. I mean, sorry…but—”

Hayun holds up her hand, quelling Jungkook’s flustered response. “I was teasing, Koo, trying to lighten the mood. Um,” she pauses, absently twisting the diamond engagement ring around her finger before slowly slipping it off and closing a fist around it. “Can we talk, though? There’s something I needed to tell you today anyway.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.

“Tae, do you mind…?” Hayun asks, not even having to fill in the blanks. Her brother instantly steps into his role as protector and savior.

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make some phone calls,” Taehyung assures her before grabbing Jimin’s arm and starting back down the walking path.

“I’ll just—” you thumb over your shoulder in the direction Tae and Jimin just disappeared in “—be in my room.”

“Wait,” Hayun calls, pulling your retreat up short. “Come here.” She opens her arms, her hands opening and closing in grabby motions. “Please.”

A sob cracks from your throat as you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry, Hayun. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush. None of that. This isn’t anything we could have predicted or stopped from happening. If anything, maybe this is life’s way of getting back at me for what I did to him,” she whispers in your ear. “This is how it’s meant to be.”

Hayun smoothes a hand over your back and releases you. She steps back, using the back of a finger to lift the tears from your cheeks, and gives you a watery smile.

You’re not sure you can speak without completely losing yourself, so you just give her a tight nod and continue back on your way down the path. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say to Jungkook, to be there to soothe any hurts or aches…which is a startling realization that you’d not just tend to Hayun but to Jungkook, too. That internal, visceral part of you yearns to turn on your heel and…protect what’s yours.

It’s an odd revelation to think of Jungkook as yours. Well, yours unless either of you reject the bond. Though, that thought makes your stomach pitch and roil. You have to trail a hand along the wall in the hall leading to your room to keep yourself from curling over your abdomen at just the idea.

Once back in your room, you’re unsure what to do with yourself, so you absently start to gather your belongings and pack them up. Every few minutes, you find yourself pausing to stare at the door, ears pricking at the slightest sound from beyond it.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Whether it’s Hayun coming to your room so the two of you can cry together or Jungkook coming to claim y—uh, you shove that thought aside quickly because now is not the time. At. All.

The time for the wedding comes and passes without a single knock on your door nor a text or call on your phone. You’re tempted to go looking. For what, you’re not entirely sure—an answer, maybe, some sort of direction on what you should do now.

Finally, after hours of sitting in silence with just your thoughts for company, a soft knock sounds at your door. The long hem of your dress nearly trips you up in your haste to make it to the door. It swings open, and for some reason, your stomach drops, the flutter of disappointment heavy and unexpected.

“Hey, beautiful,” Taehyung says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “Mind if I come in?” 

His necktie is loose, and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. There is a tension in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier. It makes your chest ache.

“Sure,” you say, stepping back and letting him into your room.

Taehyung sighs, perches on the end of your bed, and props his elbows on his knees. His chin rests on an upturned fist, his other hand dangling between his legs, clutching his phone.

He opens his mouth, a single word the only thing coming out, “So.”

“So,” you parrot.

“Hayun wants me to take her home…alone. I’m not sure what all she and Jungkook talked about, but I think they’re at least amicable in agreeing that it would be best if he gave her a few days at home alone before they start the process of separating their lives.” You’re not sure if the bitter tinge in your chest is hurt because Hayun isn’t the one telling you this or because now you have to find your own way to the airport. As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung continues, “I can be back in two days, maybe sooner, depending on traffic. Perhaps they’ll let you extend your stay. If not, I can talk to Jimin—”

“No, Tae, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Hayun, make sure she’s okay...as okay as she can be, at least. Fuck.” The last word comes out choked, and you gnash your teeth on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the angry tears out. You have no right to be angry. Hell, you’re not even sure why you’re angry. It just seems like the easiest emotion to feel right now, the only one that doesn’t leave you feeling like your world is slowly imploding.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, bringing one of his big hands up to cup the side of your face. His thumb prods at the swell of your cheek, causing you to release the tension in your jaw. “Hayun isn’t the only one I’m worried about here.”

“I’m fine—I will be fine,” you amend. “I promise. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I’m mad at myself for ruining Hayun’s big day. I can’t believe this is happening at all. This…this just doesn’t happen. This is the kind of shit you read about in books, it’s not supposed to be real life.”

And there it is, you surmise—the truth of the matter. None of what’s happened makes sense. It honestly belongs on the pages of a book or in a movie script, not in your real life. It still feels surreal. If it weren’t for the subtle, lingering ache you instinctively know is associated with finding your true mate but not allowing yourself to fully accept it, you’d think this was all some elaborate party trick or impractical joke.

Taehyung smiles at you, but the unease in his eyes can’t be masked that easily. “I’m not sure what to say or what to do. You’re right. This isn’t a situation I think anyone was prepared for or ever thought possible, actually. But, here we are…and we have to face it the best way we can.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I'll tell you what: I’ll text Jimin—he’s a good guy, I think you’ll enjoy his company—and ask him to meet you in the lounge. Have a few drinks, wind down, and try to relax as best you can.”

“Sure,” you say lamely, trying to muster up at least a little bit of enthusiasm.

“That’s my girl.” Taehyung offers you another smile, this one not so tense. “Here, I have something for you.” He fishes into his pant pocket and produces a familiar thin silver chain, a tiny crescent moon dangling near one end.

The sight has your spine straightening. “Right, of course.” You quickly thumb open the clasp on the bracelet around your wrist, letting it fall from your skin for the first time since you put it on when Hayun gave it to you all those years ago. It never felt right to take it off…not until now.

Taehyung helps you swap the bracelet with the one in his hand. The metal feels cold against your skin and you immediately miss the subtle fragrance of Hayun’s scent clinging to your wrist. Though, you suppose that’s what has gotten you both into this mess to begin with. Taehyung explains in soft words how Jungkook explained to Hayun about the scent mix-up with the bracelets—such a silly, seemingly insignificant thing…the catalyst to spark such a colossal moment.

“I’m going to get on the road with Hayun, but I’ll call you as soon as we get to her place and check in on you, okay?”

Sitting at the bar with Jungkook’s best friend seemed like a good idea when Taehyung first presented it to you. But, at the time, you weren’t connecting the dots that Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend. He was just Jimin, the guy that just so happened also to be part of the wedding party that you had met in passing briefly, but he seemed like a good enough person. Now, however, you feel all the awkward tension radiating right between your shoulder blades, emphasized by the silence lingering between the two of you.

You traded in your lilac dress for jeans and a light silk blouse, canvas slip-ons in place of your slippers, yet no matter how comfortable you know your clothing is, you can’t shake the prickling discomfort eating away at the back of your neck.

“Want another?” Jimin asks, nodding to your mostly watered-down rum and coke. It’s barely late afternoon, and as much as Taehyung’s suggestion of a drink sounded like just what you needed, you’ve found yourself not in the mood to drink after all.

“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”

“Cool. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jimin drums his fingers on the tabletop and pops his lips before giving you a slight head nod and pushing up from his chair.

You watch as he saunters to the long bar, his crescent moon tattoo on the nape of his neck peeking out from the top of his collar, and props his elbows onto the shiny top. His smile is flirty and casual as the bartender, a beautiful woman with long, inky tresses and fiery red lipstick, sidles up in front of him.

They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation, but her tinkling laughter carries across the space, and you know it might be a while before Jimin returns to your table.

Which you’re okay with. Considering you know you’re not exactly pleasant company right now, you don’t blame him one bit. You glance down at your phone, once again reading the last text message Hayun sent you not too long ago.

Eunseo stopped by the lounge around the same time Jimin showed up. If her smile and lingering hug were any indicator, she clearly had a thing for him. She gave you a small wave goodbye before giving Jimin another hug and heading out. Apparently, she was going to follow Taehyung and Hayun back to Hayun and Jungkook’s place to help Hayun with whatever she needed over the next few days.

Does it hurt that your best friend is relying on someone else, her new best friend? Yes. Do you also understand why? Also, yes, but that doesn’t make the sting hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up and retreat back to your room, which the front desk still hasn’t given you a definitive answer about whether or not your stay can be extended while you wait for Tae, when a shadow falls across your table a second before.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Jungkook asks in a low voice.

He fidgets, threading and unthreading his fingers together while he waits for your answer. The suit he had half on earlier is gone, and in its place is a dark pair of jeans, the knees worn fashionably, and an oversized white graphic t-shirt. Black sneakers peek out from the rounded bottoms of his pant legs.

You clear your throat, forcing your eyes away from his and instead on the glass sitting in a puddle of condensation on the table before you. “Oh, I—uh, I was actually about to go. You’re welcome to the table, though. Jimin was—” You cut off, realizing Jimin is no longer in the lounge at all. “Well, he was here,” you add with a frown.

Jungkook scratches a hand across the back of his neck and gives you a hesitant smile. “Yeah, he texted me. He went…well, that doesn’t matter. Could we, um…can we talk?”

“Yes.” The response is out of your mouth before he even finishes asking. “Please, I think I’d like that,” you say, nodding toward the open seat across from you.

A shaky breath rattles from Jungkook as he eases into the empty seat. “Have you talked to Hayun at all?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.

“A text message, but that’s all. I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.” Needing something to do with your hands, you trace a finger along the edge of the water pooled around the bottom of your glass and use your other to poke more drops on the side of your cup, making them race down to join the growing puddle.

Jungkook nods, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “She told me what happened last night. Her confession.” That draws your attention back to him, and you wait, fingers still on the glass, intent on hearing what he says next. “I thought I’d be angrier finding out the woman I’ve been with for years—the woman I was hours away from marrying—had cheated on me…but I’m not. For the life of me, I’m not mad at her…even though I know I should be.”

“How do you feel?”

Maybe it’s none of your business, but you have to ask.

Blowing out a breath, Jungkook slides one of his hands across the table and, giving you plenty of time to protest or pull away, slowly slides his fingers between yours, effectively joining his hand with yours. It’s the first time hand-holding has felt so intimate yet wholly innocent.

“Relieved, I think,” he finally says. “Grateful, maybe? Hayun was hurt. As she has every right to be, but she said she also felt relief, too. I think, as much as she said she loved me, she was still holding back even in the end.” With a rueful shake of his head, he tacks on, “We were just a disaster waiting to happen, held together only by the thin chain of a bracelet. We would have shattered eventually.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to where your fingers are entwined with his, trailing up to your wrist to land on the object he just spoke of.

“I’m relieved, too,” you whisper. Your eyes meet his as he glances up, and you’re instantly captivated.

This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to really study Jungkook. His hair is tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. You suppose he probably had been and wonder if that’s one of his nervous ticks.

The bow of his lips is prominent and draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his lips, making small mental notes at everything you see, like the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip. His straight nose leads you to his expressive eyes, so dark and full of secrets you want to be privy to.

To say Jungkook is handsome would be a gross understatement. You’re not sure if it’s the fact he’s your true mate or just simply a gorgeous being, but he is pleasing to the eyes, that’s for sure.

You mentally kick yourself for thinking such thoughts about your best friend’s almost-husband after everything that has just happened. It’s not in good taste to entertain these thoughts so soon, right? True mate or not.

Yet, you can’t shove those thoughts away completely.

“Where did you go just now?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head and studying you intently.

Not wanting to explain yourself and the thoughts you were just having, you choose to ask him a question instead. “So, what now?”

You’re thankful Jungkook doesn’t push you to answer. He shifts in his seat and withdraws his fingers from between yours.

“I think we start with…” he trails off, a playful smile tugging up the side of his mouth as he holds the hand he pulled back in the air in front of you in offering. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you smile. A laugh escapes you, and you instantly feel a thousand times lighter with that simple action.

As you take his hand back into yours, allowing yourself to truly savor the feel of his skin against yours, you realize that no matter what happens with Hayun or the fact that you live thousands of miles apart from Jungkook…everything is going to be okay and maybe you wouldn’t have ignored Taehyung’s text after all.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook, 3 months later

The flight was long but worth it. Jungkook stretches as he climbs out of the Uber he took from the airport. You would have picked him up. In fact, you are supposed to pick him up…just, not until next week. He decided to surprise you by coming early. He hopes you don’t mind.

Time seemed to drag to a near stand-still following that fateful day at the bed and breakfast where he was so sure he’d be joining his life with Hayun’s officially. No one could have anticipated what actually went down that day. But, in the end, he and Hayun parted ways on pleasant terms, and it’s actually thanks to her that he’s here right now, a week early.

Jungkook was worried that with everything that happened, yours and Hayun’s friendship might suffer. But, surprisingly—and thankfully—you guys have been getting on great. Hayun has been looking at work prospects in Thailand but, from what you’ve told Jungkook, is planning to visit you and Taehyung for Christmas.

It’s been three months, and not a day has gone by that Jungkook hasn’t talked to you in some capacity. From the moment he offered to be your ride to the airport, and you agreed, he’s thought about nothing other than getting on a plane and following you. The draw to you is just that strong.

You’ve expressed similar feelings, already having planned a return trip to Seoul next month. Neither Jungkook nor you have really talked about what the future holds or how to even begin to navigate it. But Jungkook hopes that during the week he is here, you can both begin to figure that out.

Giddiness makes his tattooed fingers shake as he reaches out and grasps the brass knocker on your door. He gives it a rap against the thick wood and waits. Jungkook counts the breaths as his anticipation rises. It’s only three and a half exhales before he hears the soft pad of your feet on the other side of the door.

Jungkook can imagine you pressing up onto your tip toes in order to peer through the peephole. He’d pay money to be able to see the look on your face when you see it’s him. Not being able to see your face doesn’t take away from the dopamine rush he gets when the sound of your surprised squeal sounds through the door.

“Jungkook!” Your shout is followed by the frantic sound of you disengaging the locks on your door before you swing it open and launch yourself at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, my gods! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re here!”

It feels good to laugh, but it feels even better to have you in his arms finally. The brief embrace he shared with you at the airport when he dropped you off was not enough and is what drove him to try and come sooner than planned.

Jungkook savors the warmth of your soft body pressed against his, your arms tight around his neck. Running one of his hands up your spine, he clasps the back of your neck and uses his hold there to angle your head away from his neck so he can look you in the face.

“Surprise,” he whispers. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You sigh dreamily, your eyes fluttering closed for a second like you’re savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “Pleasant surprise,” you murmur with a smile on your face.

Jungkook can’t help himself. He wants so badly to know if your smile tastes as good as he thinks it will. The press of his lips against yours causes you to melt against him, a throaty sound escaping around the intrusion of his tongue as he works it between your lips.

“Your taste,” he groans, forcing his mouth away from yours before the allure of you can drive him completely mad. Who is he kidding? He’s already there. “I need more.”

🥀🥀🥀

Those words do something to you.

I need more.

They echo the thoughts you’ve been harboring for the last three months. You’ve ached with those words, desperately willing yourself to be patient and let it happen when it’s meant to happen.

But, fuck, it feels so good to have him in your arms, to have his mouth brushing against yours. He tastes divine, a warm sweetness that compliments the musk of his scent that is slowly wrapping itself around you.

“Take me. Take it all,” you urge, completely baring yourself to him, body, mind, and soul. “I’m yours.”

It’s a frenzy, the frantic discarding of clothing. Your fingers work to free him of his jeans while also helping him with the criss-cross straps of your lounging romper. You don’t care that you’re still standing by your front door, bared down to your underwear. The only thing you’re focusing on now is how Jungkook holds you at arm's length and drinks you in from head to toe.

“You…are…everything.” The way he whispers those words crawls under your skin, rooting itself deep in your being. You feel sexy…desired, and unbelievably empty—your body clenches, the ache deep between your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on from just taking your clothes off before, from whispered words and a heated look.

Jungkook allows you to undress him as slow or as fast as you want. You try to take your time and savor every inch of skin you expose. But, you can barely contain yourself when you get to his jeans, shoving them unceremoniously down his thighs with your eyes locked on the many planes and angles of his toned chest and stomach.

Your fingers ghost over his skin, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as you explore the smooth and lush expanse of his shoulders and down his arms. Without needing to say anything more, he gathers you into his arms and covers your mouth with his once more.

It’s a miracle you make it to your bedroom. But, seeing Jungkook sprawled out on your bed is a sight you’ll never forget, with his lowered lids and bottom lip caught between his teeth. You want to taste every inch of him, from the tips of his ears down to the defined muscles of his calves.

Now, though, your gaze focuses on the front of his tented boxer briefs. The dark grey material has darkened even further, where you can see the distinct outline of the head of his cock. Saliva pools in your mouth.

You crawl on the bed, knees slotting between his, your hands on either side of his hips. With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and mouth gently at the wetness. You moan at the flavor of him, your tongue peeking out to seek more.

“Fuck,” you curse. “You taste so good.”

Jungkook lets out a quick breath. “You can’t say shit like that, baby girl. You’re going to make me lose it.” He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling, his lips moving like he’s sending up a silent prayer, before looking back down at you. “You have maybe three seconds before I can’t hold back any longer and tear that ass up.”

You chuckle softly, pouting out your lips in a faux sullen manner. “Yes, sir.”

That earns a growl from Jungkook that has heat racing down your spine as you hook your fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein’s and pull them down. He lifts his hips, helping you free him from their confines.

His cock stands so pretty before you, the full heft bobbing against his belly, smearing a pearl of precum against his golden skin. You dive in, licking at the sticky mess before taking the tip between your lips and lavishing your tongue over his slit.

Jungkook fists the sheets, a litany of curses falling from his lips. “Please,” he chokes.

You keep your eyes locked on his as you inch your way down his length, your jaw forcing itself wider to accommodate as much of him as you can. The blunt head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. You take a steadying breath in through your nose before forcing yourself a little further until your throat constricts around him and you have to pull back.

The second your mouth leaves his cock, saliva stringing from your lips to his tip, Jungkook grabs you and hauls you up over him. You laugh, loving the heat emanating from his body as yours covers his.

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

His strong hands land on your hips and tangle in the band of your panties. “I need these off. Please. I need you. I want to feel you…be inside you.”

You want that, too, you realize, your body already primed and begging for it. The sweet, fragrant notes of your arousal saturate the air, mixing with Jungkook’s to paint a picture of hedonism and wanton desires.

The rest of your clothes come off, your bra and panties are tossed to the side, leaving you utterly bare to him. Your inner thighs slide like velvet over his hips as you move your body against his until you can feel the press of the head of his cock against your entrance.

You wrap a hand around his base, angling him perfectly. It’s a slow descent into madness, the lowering of your body onto his. His eyes bore into yours, pouring out everything that has been building to this moment, this pinnacle that will forever throttle you onto a different path for your future—with him. You can feel every perfect inch slide along your walls as they adjust and welcome him. It’s like sliding home; he is the perfect fit for your body, filling you completely.

The pace you set, at first, is languid. An easy rise and fall of your hips as you both learn the body of the other. Jungkook’s hands mold around your breasts, his thumbs caressing over the pert points of your nipples.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, emphasizing your words with a generous roll of your hips. “So much better than I imagined.”

“You imagined it often?” he asks, a teasing tone to his words.

With the amount of teasing photos and videos you’ve shared with each other over the last few weeks, he knows you have. You can tell he’s just giving you a hard time. That’s fine, because you can…

Jungkook throws his head back as you arch yours, letting his cock hit that special place inside that has you both seeing stars. “Fuck!” His hands drop to your hips, landing with a satisfying smack. His grip tightens, dimpling the supple flesh around his fingers. “Can I knot you?” he asks with a breathless moan. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot. The idea has your body pulsing around his, flooding slick onto his pelvis as you continue to roll your hips. “Fuck, baby girl, do you like that idea? You want to take my knot like a good girl?”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, much less answer him. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a panting keen, your chin jerking up and down as you frantically nod your want.

Jungkook braces his feet against the mattress and uses his grip on your hips as leverage to thrust upward, sending you forward onto your hands. He’s relentless, pounding into you from below to the point your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut. Tiny pinpricks of light burst behind your lids as your body coils tighter than ever before.

You cry out as he sends you over the edge, your body careening into an unfathomable abyss of pleasure. The sounds coming from around his cock as it pounds into you are slick and obscene, debauched yet wholly satisfying. 

“Alpha, need your knot,” you mewl, your lips finding the triskelion tattoo over Jungkook’s left pec muscle. You nibble at it, your teeth sinking softly into the skin.

“Oh, baby, fuck…fuck…Fuuuckkk!” Jungkook shouts, the sound turning into a guttural snarl as his body goes primal.

He seats himself completely inside of you with one final, deliberate thrust, and then you can feel the swell of his knot capture within you. It hurts, your pleasure turning into a moment of pain and panic. You squirm, trying to lift your hips from his, but the clasp of his hands on your body won’t let you go far. You whine, “J-Jungkook.”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Relax. Let your body do what it needs to do.”

It’s like those words unlock some inner Omega part of your brain, and suddenly you feel your body rush with endorphins and dopamine as it accepts the thick jets of his cum now flooding in. Like administering a drug, it’s such a fast transition that you feel lightheaded and giddy, sheepish and almost silly over your moment of panic.

“Gods, that feels so…good.” You wiggle in his arms, gasping as his knot pulls tight. You want more, need more of that feeling…need more of his cum. “More, Alpha, please.”

Jungkook pants, a tired smile on his face. You can feel it when his cock pulses inside you, dribbling even more liquid heat into your body in answer to your plea. “That’s my pretty girl,” Jungkook coos, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You’re so beautiful taking my knot, full of my cum.” He curses softly, reverently, and another gush of heat fills your body. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I swear it.”

You fall into a half-sleep, content and sated as you are. There are no worries about the future, nor the past. You are happy…all thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks.

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2024-11-05 ColorMePurplex2

[capitalisticveins]

Lots of Headcanons #1

Due to recent events I'm writing lots of mini headcanons to liven the mood, starting with my very BESTEST FRIEND @cyc-chilla

Avior

Avior has a drawing tablet he uses whenever he gets stressed, which is a lot.

He specializes in backgrounds, landscapes, and designs/patterns.

He prefers digital art rather than traditional art since it’s more forgiving, but he still dabbles in watercolors a lot.

Avior doesn’t often eat human food since it’s not necessary but when Starlight speaks about their favorite foods, or cooks anything, he usually tries the food, whether it looks appetizing or not.

He played tic-tac-toe almost 100 times to entertain himself in “hell”, and he lost to himself more than half of that amount.

Sam

As a kid, Sam would usually hang out in the nearest park, away from home, and try bringing home critters from there. Whether it was a squirrel, bugs, rabbits, stray cats, didn’t matter. He liked picking them up and trying to take them home. It worked a few times but someone would always find the animal and toss it back out.

Sam was a cowboy for Halloween from the ages of 7-12, and he regrets telling Darlin’ about it every passing day.

He hasn’t bought a new iPhone since 2018.

The only holiday his family spent together was Christmas, and he missed it greatly when he moved to Dahlia. He didn’t celebrate with the House for a number of reasons, so the first one he spent with other people since moving was when he started dating Darlin’ and he felt emotional during the entire day.

Butter Pecan is not his favorite ice cream flavor, he just says it is to make people mad. He still likes it, though

He spent an entire summer when he was 11 selling lemonade and water in his local park to raise money to buy a SNES. He never did have enough to buy one but he had a shit ton of money for an 11 year old.

Him going to Six Flags in Cali was the first and only time he’s ever been to an amusement park.

Porter

When she was alive, Porter got his mother a bouquet of flowers every year for mothers day, with differing handwritten notes. Even after his presumed death, she’d get flowers sent to her home every mothers day, and to this day a bundle of flowers and notes are put on her grave.

He uses a flip phone when calling people he doesn’t like so he can hang up on them by slamming it shut.

He finger guns himself in the mirror

Porter cried when the Queen died

His love-language is gift-giving, so Treasure just has a bunch of real expensive jewelry in one of their drawers because Porter gives them so much of it.

Although he prefers physical touch, and Treasure always delivers it.

Porter wears eyeliner.

Caelum

Cannot color inside the lines of a coloring book

Caelum does not like feeling constricted, so whenever he’s on Elegy he makes his form wear flowy and loose clothes to give himself space

Whenever he drinks kool-aid he rushes to the nearest mirror to look at his tongue changing color

When using a coloring book, he usually draws with a single color crayon, no two colors unless he’s drawing it for his siblings, Freelancer, or Gavin.

He finds bunk beds adorable until it’s time for him to sleep on one

Caelum cannot sleep on a normal day. He can try, and he can pretend, but if he’s not doing it to help someone else, he can’t just “go to sleep”, he’s too excited for anything and everything.

Due to accelerated energy, Caelum (and most Empathy Daemons) flies faster and for longer than other demons.

He gave his physical form braces once, took them off almost immediately.

[chanafehs]

My Veilguard review:

Note - I will be honest in saying this is very long and very negative. If you enjoy this game please don't let me be the one to ruin that for you and skip on this post. I will be discussing spoilers. This is just my opinion so please don't crucify me for it.

I think my thoughts about this game were shaky to begin with as I had been exposed to different spoilers and information before the launch. I wasn’t actually expecting this game to be amazing but as someone whose favorite Dragon Age game is Dragon Age 2, which is arguably the weakest in the series (until now), I still went in with the impression I would have a good time regardless. I did not have that at all, in fact towards the end of Act 2 and the beginning of Act 3 all I wanted was for the game to be over. 

The problems for me really started right in the beginning with the Inquisitor character choices and their characterization. No choices for your Warden, no choices for your Hawke, and only three choices for your Inquisitor out of the dozens you made in Inquisition. The romance option just felt like a very polite way of asking if you romanced Solas or not, especially after completing the game where your non-solas romance will only get one letter for you to read, outside of that, the Inquisitor will not even mention them. Disbanding the Inquisition meant basically nothing and vowing to stop Solas felt like it had little bearing on what my Inquisitor said when she showed up. 

The time frame to make Dragon Age 2 was just over a year and somehow included more choices from Origins than Veilguard did with over ten years of production. That is the information that's been banging around in my head throughout this entire game. In Dragon Age 2, we get the consequences of our decisions with Alistair’s fate and we get extra dialogue concerning Isabela/Zevran/Leliana/Anders/Nathaniel + some sidequests. Veilguard couldn’t even give us so much of a mention of our Inquisitor’s friendships and the consequences of those friendships outside of Solas. The Inquisitors themselves are locked into one personality type as well, and regardless if you choose to stop Solas or not, they are very amicable toward him. 

During the second cut scene you get with the Inquisitor in Dock Town, they will go on to ask you about your progress and then go on about Solas. Mind you, my Inquisitor is extremely unsympathetic to Solas and I chose the option to stop him no matter what, so why is it that every time I speak to her, she keeps trying to ask me if Solas is being genuine and that he was her friend? That doesn’t sound like someone who has vowed to stop him. They will also try to draw parallels between you, Rook, and Solas. Even at the end of the game, they will still try to appeal to you to see reason with him. That is essentially all the Inquisitor is there for. Incredibly frustrating. 

Throughout the game you will get missives from the Inquisitor detailing the devastation that is being brought to southern Thedas and every letter feels like more and more of an insult. To keep it short: Southern Thedas as we know it has been essentially wiped out. I think that deserves more than a footnote in some missive most players aren’t even going to see.

So the setting we spent all three games in, that we saved countless times, had our companions and protagonists die for, gets demolished in the background where we cannot see it. Skyhold had to be taken back from demons and whoops, that's not actually something you can do anything about. Nothing the Warden, Hawke, or the Inquisitor ever did mattered at all and it renders everything from the previous games absolutely irrelevant. 

With that aside, the companions are also another issue for me. I found myself having trouble getting attached to any of them and every single time I recruited one I had the internal question “Why are you even here?” None of their companion quests really tie into the story at large, save maybe Harding and Davrin, and they are incredibly boring save for a few cool moments.

The main appeal of Dragon Age for me is the companions, it’s why Dragon Age 2 is my favorite of the series. Despite the overused environments and the rushed production I still had a great time with it because of the companions. I was actually eager to do the companion quests and learn more about them and how they all fit into the main narrative. Even characters I didn’t like, I still understood why they were important to the story. Like I can’t stand Anders but I know why he is there, he has a purpose.

Every companion is painfully amicable towards you even if you decide to be “stern” towards them. I found myself not caring what dialogue option I chose about them because it made absolutely no difference. There is nice, funny nice, and gentle parenting. That is really all you have to work with in terms of the dialogue wheel. It was more difficult to get disapproval than approval and I can probably count on my fingers every time in this game I actually got companion disapproval. There is only one companion in my playthrough that became hardened, Lucanis, and it had virtually no impact on his character other than the fact he leaves for a couple of saves and comes back to kissing your ass. 

Something I actually really liked about BG3 and the previous Dragon Age games was working for your companion approval - this meant actually learning about your companion and what made them tick. If you don't understand them well enough you get disapproval, when you actually listen to their ideas and thoughts you get approval - there is an active effort to get these things. In Veilguard this does not exist and you are essentially promised approval no matter what, meaning there is no encouragement to know who these people are if they're just going to support you regardless.

I have to agree with the Skillup review they made about this game saying that every dialogue option feels like it was made with HR in the room and I one hundred percent agree. This is not how real people talk to each other. This is how teachers talk to toddlers when they want to explain the virtues of sharing toys with their classmates.

It felt honestly insulting at times to be treated like I don’t understand the concept of bigotry, I still have no idea what they were trying to go for with this, like were they trying to appeal to a market of high school boys who hadn’t discovered what empathy was yet? There is zero trust in the player and every dialogue and decision you make in these moments feels handhold-y and preachy. Like Pixar levels of life lessons you learn.

In the moments where I had to settle arguments over coffee and companions not respecting each other's interests, I could not honestly believe this is the same universe with Loghain Mac Tir, Meredith Stannard, fuck even Corypheus. Humor has always existed in Dragon Age and I love the comedic banter between the characters but it was always humor that served as an escape from the oppressive and dark situation around you, here the dark and oppressive situations feel like an escape from the unrelenting friendliness and tone deafness of your companions. 

The companion I probably had the most issue with was Taash and the way they were handled. I’m not going to get too deep into the Bharv scene because even thinking about it makes me cringe but If someone messed up my pronouns and then immediately dropped to do pushups I am most definitely killing us both. Isabela’s explanation is extremely preachy and she proceeds to do the exact thing she says she hates about people messing up pronouns. Anyways. Moving on. 

Taash I think is a good example of how to not write a multiethnic character. I don’t expect a white person like Trick Weekes to understand the first thing that comes with being multiethnic or having strict parents that intersects with that identity but it is most definitely not whatever the hell this is. 

The only thing I can offer here is that as a multiethnic person (my father is Palestinian and my mother is mainly Irish and Seminole) is that there has never been a point in my life where I felt like I had to choose what culture I am let alone give that choice to someone else in my life I just met.

That’s not what being multiethnic is. I do not have to choose between anything - I am whole and I don't need to cut myself into halves and quarters to be accepted.

It also feels subconsciously like you are supposed to choose Rivain as the Qunari are depicted as bigoted and oppressive as they always have been in this game. Knowing all of this really tainted my experiences with them as a character and I understand a lot of other non-binary individuals love the representation they brought on that level but personally, I’m just tired of “queer representation” always coming with racist undertones. Again, this game feels like it always had white queer people in mind, not lgbt poc. 

These kinds of comments are really only made worse knowing what the Qunari take inspiration from - primarily Black and Brown SWANA Muslims. Why should Trick Weekes have any authority over a questline like that is beyond me. 

Also, this sucked. Especially because they said it to Neve too. I don’t really want my non-binary representation sprinkled with Misogyny as well, especially since we can’t really call Taash out on this comment unless you’re playing a woman (as far as I know).

Aside from Taash, I thought the writing around Harding was strange. Don’t me wrong, I love Harding, but I do not remember her being this friendly and people-pleasing in the Inquisition. If you play as a Dalish elf the first thing she says is she’s surprised that you would care about anyone else - there is absolutely no inclination of this kind of perspective in Veilguard. Additionally, despite knowing everything Solas has done and the consequences that had on her ancestors, she still tries to push you to reason with him?

All of her quests about learning about the Titans, experiencing and embracing their anger, and you still want to appeal to Solas? That was another thing I found so weird about this game, throughout the entire story you are being told again and again that Solas cannot be trusted, he is to blame for everything, and will stab you in the back and yet it seems like every companion tries to push back on you if you agree with this viewpoint? 

Also, something I didn't know at this point of the game but I do now is that Solas had killed Varric and she does know this so why is she acting like this knowing Solas had killed her friend who she spent years with?

Genuinely this whole game felt like: Devs: Solas is a villain

Rook: okay understood

Devs: actually nvm you don't understand him if you think he's a villain

The only companion quests I was actually genuinely interested in were Emmrich and his thoughts around death and becoming a lich. Lucanis' quests had the best boss fights for sure. Outside of that, it felt like “Go here with Bellara” or “Go here with Taash” and it got so grating I couldn’t wait for these quests to be over so I could progress with the main story. It felt like an annoying back-and-forth game to finish a main quest just to finish all the companion quests and then go back to the main quest. Like a list of chores to get through before you can have any fun. 

The inclusion of characters like Morrigan and Isabela in this universe was extremely hollow and they do not feel like the Morrigan and Isabela we know at all. With Morrigan there is a bit of an explanation to this with the essence of Mythal however she reiterates that it is still herself and it is only the memories of Mythal that remain inside of her.

In my canon playthroughs of Dragon Age, I romanced both Morrigan and Isabela, so I was curious to see how the developers would address their pasts with our Warden and Hawke. Unfortunately, the answer is that they don’t address it at all. Morrigan hardly mentions her past, leaving us to wonder if Kieran even exists. The game implies that the relationship between Morrigan and the Warden is insignificant; a codex entry oddly suggests, in a very slut-shamey way, that Morrigan had more lovers than there are trees in the forest. Isabela doesn't reference Hawke either, as she fondly remembers Kirkwall for found family and friendship. It seems that if you romanced Isabela or Morrigan, congratulations—your canon doesn’t exist.

I will echo the statement others have made about all the cameos feeling like mascots because that is really what they are. There is no substance to any of them, Isabela only feels like she is there to be a supportive voice for Taash, Morrigan will only really talk about Solas and Mythal-Dorian is the only one who actually gets a substantial quest related to him. I thought he was fine minus the "illegal slavery" bit because what is illegal slavery Dorian. Next up we will discuss legal murder.

Another thing that genuinely broke the immersion for me in this game is how awful the armor is. It is a Dragon Age game so I wasn't expecting Haute Couture but the design is all over the place and nothing looks right. Not to mention the extremely weird orientalist undertones that follow the Lords of Fortune everywhere. The outfit Isabela is wearing is even worse in person and I tried to give this game the benefit of the doubt by thinking we would be getting some underwater mission with her and that would be the explanation behind her bikini outfit - this did not happen.

The belly dancer-esque outfits with the coin-bedazzled turbans were pretty egregious and made me want to limit my time in Rivain as much as possible. For a game released in 2024, I am disappointed we are still dealing with the same Orientalist fantasy tropes. Even the Qunari are more naked in this game than I had ever seen previously. At least DA2 and DAI gave them pants. But hey the Antaam are all blighted and evil so who cares right.

Speaking of the Antaam, a lot of the antagonist motivations for this game genuinely did not make sense to me. The Antaam are suddenly giving up their fear of magic to pair up with...the Venatori? To fight for the elven gods? It honestly felt like they had no idea who to make fight for the Evanuris so they just pulled two of the baddies from the Inquisition and went "We can just use them and call it done". When you press for information on why this is the answer is always a mustache-twirling dialogue about power. Nothing much deeper from that than any of the villains besides Solas. All of the villains, especially Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, are extremely one-dimensional and have no motivations other than being evil and striving for power. At least Corypheus had cool lines.

I'm not going to get too deep into lore changes since I know a lot of things happened in the comics, books, and TV show (all of which I did not read or watch) but I honestly do think it's a bad idea to have a "soft reboot" while needing to read several books to understand everything. That's not being welcoming to new players that's homework. If you wanted a soft reboot probably don't start off with half your plot and characters coming from various comics and novels people need to catch up on.

The portrayal of the Dalish in this game is inconsistent. When we inform them that their gods are evil and planning to overthrow the world, they respond, "Okay, heard you." How can they accept this explanation so readily? In previous interactions, Solas shared that the Dalish did not listen to him and even threatened him when he revealed this truth. Yet, when we present the same information, they believe us almost immediately. Is there no pushback or skepticism? The Dalish accept everything about the evil elven gods meanwhile Andraste’s followers remain completely unaffected by these revelations.

I think what frustrated me even more was watching our elven companions express grief and regret over the actions of the elven gods like they had something to do with it, painting the Dalish as adjacent to oppressors when they themselves are oppressed in every way. The only thing that remains consistent is the sad boy Solas act about it.

At the end of the game, two of my companions - Harding and Emmrich- were killed. Emmrich's death was unfortunately overshadowed by a zoom-in on a rock and I had no idea he had died until I got the popup. Still, all I can think about is just going "Rock moment" when he died. I don't really have anything negative to say about Harding's death other than the way she went out was fitting for her narrative. Bellara got blighted and there were no consequences for this and she walked away from it - forgive me but I am still under the DAO impression that if you get blighted that's game over but all the rules about the Blight have been changed in this.

I decided to trick Solas, and honestly, I don’t have anything negative to say about it, except that Solas should have noticed me holding the fake dagger since it was clearly in his line of sight. I liked the idea of outsmarting the god of trickery. While it wasn’t extremely satisfying, but I’m okay with how it turned out.

Even as the credits began rolling I still have trouble believing rook's role in any of this. Just the persistent nagging idea that they really just have no place in this story at all. In the beginning I wanted to see how Rook is looped into all of this and how they become central to the fight against Solas but just like with most of the companions, I have no idea why they are here. This should've been the Inquisitor's story to finish.

I'm not going to pretend that everything about this game was irredeemable and terrible. There were genuinely parts I enjoyed and had a good time with. The romance ending scene with Neve was fantastic, even though it took a long time to get there. Davrin was an unexpected aspect of the game that I actually liked, as I never cared much for Grey Wardens before, but he changed my perspective. Harding's mention of the Inquisition was also very sweet. Although I wasn't particularly invested in Emmrich, I loved the conclusion to his quest when he became a lich lord.

While I'm not the biggest Solas fan, I actually really enjoyed the cutscenes between him and Rook because one of my aims with this game was the ability to be mean to Solas and kick him while he was down. They definitely delivered there even though everyone else kept disagreeing with me.

The worlds are beautiful and the CC is definitely the best we've gotten in any Dragon Age game, I spent probably a solid hour in there. The hairstyles are great and the four unibrow choices? Bioware you shouldn't have <3.

Overall I definitely didn't have the best time with this game and towards the end of act 2 I was incredibly bored and the combat became repetitive and stagnant enough that I turned down the difficulty to get through it faster. I can't see myself replaying this any time soon and I am unsure what my stance on Dragon Age is now, do I Ignore this game ever existed or do I carve out everything I liked and pretend this is the Dragon Age I love? I have no idea, I am disappointed at how this game leaves us off and I really wanted to sit here and say It's good but I can't.

I think this game will reach out to and resonate with a different group of Dragon Age fans than me, I just wish I could enjoy it as much as I see other people doing. I was originally going to give this game a 3/10 but knowing you can pet the cats I will give it a very generous 3.5/10.

[cutestbow]

Summary: y/n has to tell Jack the truth, (based off of the song futile devices)

Notes: I’m finally back!!, also very unedited so please excuse any mistakes!!

Warnings: self hatred, guilt, basically leading someone on. And that should be it if not let me know!!!

It’s been a long long time since I’ve memorized your face.

Laughter echoed throughout the dimly lit apartment i had been in for the last 4 hours, i had told myself id go home twenty minutes ago but that never ends well when im with my friends

“So y/n hows jack going” my friend asked, the question gaining attention from the others as if they had been wondering also.

“Oh, its going well he’s a really good guy.” I shrugged smiling at the though of the brown haired boy.

“Thats it?, your not going to give us any special details about him” she groaned to my vague response.

“Yea likes he doesn’t have a beauty mark on his left cheek-“ another one had chimed in

“No his upper right lip.” I blurted out embarrassingly fast.

All chatter had stopped in that moment, the only noise being the tv that had been faintly playing in the background.

My face burned red from my sudden comment, if my friend no cited she hadn’t said anything about, she just smirked and took a drink from the glass that had been sitting in front of her.

“Well at least Christian’s out of the picture.” She stated once more before diving into conversation with one of the girls sat at the table.

I nodded but it didn’t feel right almost as if it weren’t genuine.

It’s been four hours now since I’ve wandered through your place

Jack had left his apartment hours ago but i still remained after hours of him begging i stay and just watch the game from his house, so that’s where i had been left at now

Walking through the halls of his somewhat clean apartment, for someone who lives by themselves he really did try to keep some type of theme going.

I laughed at a photo he had kept near his bed of him and his brother when they were younger, it was a photo of when they lived in Canada the setting being somewhere snowy and the three brothers looking confused and unready for the photo.

I sat the photo back down and looked over at the clock that had also been on the side of his bed, i sighed walking out of the room and back to the couch to watch the puck drop.

And when i sleep on your couch i feel very safe, and when you bring the blankets, i cover up my face

It was normal for me and jack to have our annual movie nights on friday, and work had kicked my butt the following week and I hadn’t planned on going this Friday but i knew jack had been looking forwards to it stating that he found a new movie that we might like so I couldn’t decline.

We had been laying on the couch, my head on his shoulder and eyes slowing opening and closing once and a while, i quickly snapped out of that stare once the arms that had once been wrapped around me were gone.

“Where are you going?” I asked as jack got up from his spot on the couch.

He didnt reply and disappeared into his bedroom, i had went to get up before he reappeared again, this time with a large comforter.

I sighed with embarrassment and guilt, “jack im fine.” I said

“No your not, you’ve had a busy week, if you were tired you could have stayed home” he responded, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

He layed me back into the couch carefully wrapping the computer around my tired body.

The droopy state from before slowly coming back

I shouldn’t be doing this

I shouldn’t be doing this

I let out one last sigh before I closed my eyes.

And i would say i love you but saying it out loud is hard. So I won’t say it at all.

It had been a beautiful day, and usually on days like these Jack would tend to drag me out of my apartment to go on a picnic.

I carefully set a blanket down over the patch of grass we thought would be perfect spot to settle, I watched as he set the basket down and very carefully pulled each container of fruit and crackers out.

Jack had always been easy to talk too I never had to filter myself around him, but I didn’t deserve a person like him.

I watched him as layed propped up on one shoulder talking about anything and everything, slowly biting into my cherry. I paused for a moment before rubbing the bitten cherry against his cheek leaving a pink stain.

I laughed at his reaction going to wipe it away before quickly getting pulled down and the previous cherry being rubbed on my face now

I laughed attempting to push him away but it was no use he was stronger.

“Now were Even.” He spoke, smiling down at me.

we stared at each other for moments, three words I died to say lingered at the tip of my tongue but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to him.

And I won’t stay very long,

Tears rolled down my face as I found myself in-front of a door I’ve been faced with for months now, my heart banging against my chest.

I waited for a moment before the door swung open to a half awake Jack, his eyebrows furrowed in worry at my distressed state.

“y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked softly pulling me into his apartment, I pulled away slowly.

“I’m sorry jack” I cried lowering my head

“You’re so good to me, but I just can’t seem to-“ I sobbed uncontrollably unsure if he could even understand me.

“I know.” He responded softly. My head shot up realization and guilt washing over me.

He knew the entire time, but why?, the question repeating over and over in my head.

“I’m so sorry jack” I cried, the sobs becoming more violent as he pulled me into an embrace.

“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head

“I just can’t see how I’m supposed to love if I can’t love myself.” I spoke once my cries softened.

“I want to love you,” I said pulling away, watching as tears threatened to spill from his eyes

“But I just can’t” I finished, attempting to wipe the spilling tears away.

He nodded in agreement giving me an understanding smile

“It’s ok” he reassured me as if I wasn’t breaking his heart.

“I understand if you’re mad or annoyed with me I don’t know why I’m like this” I spoke lowly, the lump in my throat making my words shaky.

Jack embraced me once more, this time hushing me

“If you knew why did you stay, why did waste your time if you knew you’d get hurt in the end.” i questioned

He sighed, “because the thought of not having you at all hurt to much.”

But you are the life I needed all along.

I smiled as me and a group of my friends stumbled into a bar we had been dying to go to for the past month.

the smell of alcohol and burnt out cigarettes washing over me in a second.

I watched as a few of the members separated going there own ways, leaving me a one ther girl.

We had decided to settle at the little bar ordering two beers for night.

I grabbed the cup swiftly taking a sip before setting it back down onto the table. I skimmed over the bar watching as people danced and played pool.

My heart immediately skipped a beat once I was met with a familiar pair of blue eyes that had been staring at me from across the bar.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to Jack in a year. Or really since that one night in his apartment. I would say we ended on good terms.

My face burned red as he waved at me with a soft smile.

I waved back, nervously smiling. I watched as he began to mouth something.

“You look beautiful” he mouthed slowly

“I feel beautiful” I excitedly mouthed.

He laughed at my response from across the bar.

“Good” he nodded.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Okay, imma be real? I think this fandom gets way too upset over characterization differences between books (this'll be a long one just let me explain).

I see a lot of posts in the WOF fandom about how certain characters got ruined in the next books or how their characterizations were completely screwed over. A lot of posts also are like, "Oh, Tui messed up X character in this book so badly!" Or "All their personality has changed in this book, what happened to my favorite character?" and so on like that.

This kind of thing, ESPECIALLY after rereading the series recently, then coming back to the fandom, pisses me off to NO END for a couple of reasons.

1. Tui wasn't "ruining" your favorite characters personality in the next book, because the focus of the next book wasn't the character in question. The spotlight is on another character entirely, and trying to micromanage THAT many personalities to their truest form is INCREDIBLY difficult.

2. Plotting out character personalities is a GRUELING process, coming from someone who does a lot of writing. ESPECIALLY if it's original characters, because then you can't just pull from fandom or canon, you gotta do that shit yourself. And over the course of the canon, their personality is gonna change!

This brings me to my last point and probably the biggest reason:

3. EVERY BOOK IS FROM A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE.

This has been a STAPLE of the Wings of Fire books from the VERY BEGINNING. With every new book, we as readers are jumping from one dragon's mental space to the next, learning about their traits and quirks and how they perceive the world around them, every single time we pick up the next book in the series. It's what helps give us those deeper insights into the characters that yall get so angry about when they aren't immediately represented in the next book, when that dragon is no longer our spotlight.

Also, when we are learning about the other dragons before we jump to their perspectives, the character that we are reading about is already making assumptions and assigning traits that they think correlate with the character in question! We are seeing the world through their eyes and thoughts, so when we move to another perspective, that dragon is doing the exact same thing, even though now we know more about one of the other characters!

And then the fandom gets hissy when the first character gets relegated into the background and assigned some base personality traits, even though that's exactly what happened before.

Personally, I think the ones who suffer from this the MOST are Clay in Arc 1 and Moon in Arc 2. Clay, according to fans, gets boiled down to nothing but his love for food, even though we see in his, Sunny's, and Peril's perspectives that he's more than that. His behaviors also directly correlate to why he gets that kind of background trait (although that's a whole other rant), and every time I see someone saying that Clay got screwed over by characterization, I take psychic damage.

And Moon. God, yall, Moon gets it THE WORST FROM YOU. I've seen SO MANY POSTS about how she got boiled down to nothing but a love triangle piece in the later arcs, which is only partly true, but we also see from ALL OF THOSE PERSPECTIVES (Qibli and Winter specifically) that the traits they're assigning her are both different aspects of how her character worked in the first book and what two lovestruck, moons-blinded dumbasses are seeing and choosing to view her as.

Her book even SHOWS how much of a NIGHTMARE it would be to have every character be deep and know their inner thoughts at all times. Moon herself gets mentally and physically overwhelmed near CONSTANTLY during the majority of her book, and I'm not even technically factoring in Darkstalkers' influence.

All of that to say, Wings of Fire fandom, is to stop losing your SHIT over how your characters might seem flat or not like they were in their books. All of these perspectives are different, and if you motherfuckers actually took some time to reread the books while actively LOOKING for those hints of your silly guys being the same silly guys, just from another dragon's POV, then maybe yall wouldn't be so pissed off about characterization in the books nearly HALF as often.

I don't even care how much discourse this is gonna spark I just felt the incredible urge to tell yall to use those skills you learned in English class and chill the FUCK OUT on this topic.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Now go use your eyes :>

.

[newkatzkafe2023]

👀👀👀

Black Myth Wukong D.O and the Queen Ghidorah sisters?

Troublemaker By Olly Murrs Feat Flo Rida plays in the background 🤣🤣🤣

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh god, it's bad enough that you have to keep your sister Ni in line, but now you have this tiny irritating monkey who keeps hitting on you and soon your sisters. Wukong over heard about you from some monks and went to meet you personally, and the first woman he met was Ni, and she was quick to throw hands with him, and a fight broke out. Which Wukong was turned on and enjoy his battle with Ni until you called out to her, and scolded her for reckless behavior and apologized to him about it. Meanwhile Wukong was bamboozled by the fact that he was just battling one of you and found that their is Actually three of you, With very different personalities at the matter. When Wukong finally met you and San or Kelly, he put two and two together and realized queen Ghidorah is just a title for 3 hot sisters.

(Destined one) Interesting enough the first sister he met was San or Kelly, and she quickly became infatuated with the destined one. She found him to be cute and fluffy and soft and immediately hugged and snuggled him. The destined one was dumbfounded and, for some reason, purring at the pets he's currently getting. Though that's when you and Ni came along, and you scolded San/Kelly and apologized to him for her invasive traits. The Destined one quickly learned that you 3 are sisters and quietly thanked buddha, For not giving Kelly the ability to multiply or he would have been stuck there forever Although he never minded the pets.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[acknowledge-reigns]

Swipe Right | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Roman and Iris go to dinner and get to know each other more.. Intimately.

Chapter: 5/6

Word Count: 2065

Warnings: Mention of death of a loved one, flirting, teasing, Dom/sub dynamics, smut, mention of spanking, very mild depredation, honorifics, fingering, dirty talk, praise.

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. As always my stories are about Roman, not Joe. While there is not smut in the first couple of chapters, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. You have been warned.

Roman arrives at Iris's house in a sleek, black car, driven by a chauffeur. He steps out of the car and rings her doorbell. When she answers he hands her a bouquet of her favorite flowers, a small smile on his face. He knew her favorite flower from going back and studying her tinder profile. He was dressed in a suit that made him look like the walking billion dollar check he claimed to be.

"These are for you," he says, holding out the bouquet of white roses.

Iris takes the flowers, surprised that he knew her favorite. She looks at him, trying to hide her surprise.

"Thank you," she says, her voice a little softer than before. "You didn't have to do that."

Roman shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his face. "I wanted to," he says simply. "I know you like white roses."

He looks past her, noticing Imani, Amira and Jax standing in the background grinning. "And who are these lovely ladies?" Roman asks, a charming smile on his face.

"This is my daughter Imani," Iris says, gesturing to the teenager glaring daggers at him. "And this is Amira, my youngest." she adds gesturing to the smaller girl in the Disney Princess shirt.

Imani looks at Roman with a critical eye, sizing him up. She crosses her arms and gives him a skeptical look.

Roman raises an eyebrow at Imani's glare, but he doesn't let it faze him. Instead, he turns his attention to Amira, who is looking up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"And how old are you, Amira?" he asks, his voice gentle.

Amira smiles shyly "I'm nine," she says, her voice small and sweet. He had sons roughly her age.

Roman turns his attention back to Imani, who is still glaring at him.

"You must be the overprotective one," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Imani raises an eyebrow at his comment, clearly not amused.

"And you must be the guy who hurt my mom," she retorts, her voice laced with hostility.

Iris shoots Imani a warning look.

"Imani Rosé, be nice," she says firmly. "Roman and I have made up."

Imani rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything else. Roman can't help but chuckle at the interaction.

"Don't worry, I understand where she's coming from," he says to Iris. "She's just looking out for her Mom. Besides, I have a daughter her age. Not the first time I've gotten that glare and probably won't be the last." Roman chuckled lightly.

Roman smiles at Imani, his expression warm and genuine.

"It's nice to meet you, Imani," he says. "You sound like a really strong and smart young lady."

Iris turns to Jax, who is standing next to Imani, beaming with excitement.

"And this is my sister Jax," she says, introducing her. "Jax, this is Roman."

Jax's eyes widen as she looks at Roman, and she can't help but let out a small gasp. "Oh my gods, he's even hotter in person," she blurts out before quickly covering her mouth with her hands.

Roman can't help but chuckle at Jax's reaction, amused by her enthusiasm.

"I'm glad I meet expectations, I guess" he says.

Iris rolls her eyes and sighs. "Don't mind her, she's obsessed with the Bloodline," she says to Roman.

"Yeah, I need you to introduce me to one of your cousins. Like yesterday." Jax said half jokingly.

Roman raises an eyebrow, intrigued by Jax's request.

"Which cousin are you interested in meeting?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Are you being deadass?" Jax asked, her jaw dropping.

Amira, who had been mostly quiet until now, pipes up at the mention of Roman's cousins. "I want to meet Maui!" she exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement.

Roman grins at Amira's enthusiasm.

"You want to meet Maui from Moana?" he asks, feigning surprise. "That's my cousin."

Amira nods, "Yeah, my Auntie LeLe told me!" she said.

Roman chuckles, "Well, I'll see what I can do about getting you a meeting with Maui," he says, winking at her.

Iris laughs and hugs her kids tightly.

"Okay, okay, that's enough requests," she says, trying to contain her amusement. "I'll see you two later, behave yourselves. I love you both." She says placing kisses on top their heads.

She then hugs her sister and thanks her for watching the girls before shuffling out of the door with Roman.

Iris and Roman arrive at the rooftop restaurant, which is decorated with elegant tables and twinkling lights. The view of the city is breathtaking, and the air is filled with the soft sounds of music and chatter.

Iris looks around in awe, taking in the atmosphere.

"This place is amazing," she says, turning to Roman.

Roman smiles and takes her hand, as they're led to their table.

"I'm glad you like it," he says. "I wanted to make this night special." Roman pulls out Iris's chair for her, a gentlemanly gesture that makes her heart flutter.

"Thank you," she says, taking her seat.

Iris chuckles and raises an eyebrow at Roman.

"Suddenly being a gentleman, huh?" she teases. "You weren't this gentle when we first met." Being that the table he reserved was in its own private little area of the rooftop, they could pretty openly discuss anything without being overheard.

Roman grins, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, I'm definitely a gentleman," he says, his voice low and smooth. "But I'm also a Dom, and I know a sub when I see one. And you, babygirl, are definitely a submissive."

"And how do you know that?" Iris questioned

Roman leans in closer, his voice taking on a seductive tone.

"I can tell by the way you react to me," he says, his breath hot against her ear. "

"The way you respond to my touch, the way you submitted to me taking control when we made out in my locker room. The way you beamed when I called you a good girl."

Iris grins, her heart racing at his words. She can't deny that he's right. "I can't argue with that," she admits, biting her lip.

Roman takes a sip of his drink before speaking, his eyes locked on Iris. "I've been in the lifestyle for years," he says. "It's something that just comes naturally to me. I enjoy taking control and making my partner feel good. How about you?"

Iris takes a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I've been in the lifestyle for a while too," she admits. "But it's been a while since I've had a partner who could truly take control and make me feel the way you do."

Roman's eyes darken with desire as he leans in closer. "I want to be that partner for you," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I want to make you feel things you've never felt before. I want to take you to new heights of pleasure, and submission."

Iris takes a deep breath, her expression turning somber.

"I haven't been on a date since my husband passed away," she says, her voice quiet. "We were exploring the lifestyle together before he.. well.. I haven't had a Dom since. I appreciate your offer, but I need time to think about it."

Roman nods understandingly, his expression softening.

"I understand," he says, taking her hand in his. "Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere. And if you decide you want to give this a try, I promise I'll take care of you and treat you right."

Iris smiles, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words.

"Thank you," she says, squeezing his hand.

Once they make it to the car, Roman slips the driver a $50 bill and instructs him to give them some privacy. The driver nods and gets out of the car, leaving Roman and Iris alone in the backseat.

As they sit in the backseat of the car, Iris looks at Roman with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. She leans in and presses her lips against his, kissing him softly at first, then more passionately.

Roman returns the kiss, his hand coming up to cup her face. But then he pulls back, a stern look on his face.

"Ah ah ah," he says, shaking his head. "You know gotta asking permission, babygirl."

Iris pouts and looks up at Roman with a sulky expression."But I wanted to kiss you," she says, her voice almost a whine.

Roman chuckles and shakes his head again."I know you did, babygirl," he says, his tone firm but playful. "But that doesn't change the fact that you didn't ask permission. If you were mine, you'd be getting a spanking for that."

Iris's pout deepens, but there's a hint of excitement in her eyes.

"You'd really spank me?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Roman grins, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Oh, I would," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I'd spank you until you're begging for mercy. And then I'd take you home and make you mine in every way possible."

Iris can feel herself getting aroused at the thought of Roman spanking her and taking her home. Her breath quickens, and she shifts in her seat, trying to ignore the growing wetness between her legs.

Roman notices the change in Iris's demeanor and smirks, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You're getting excited, aren't you?" he asks, his voice low and sultry. "The thought of being punished and taken by me is turning you on.. such a bad girl."

Iris nods, unable to deny it. She can feel her body responding to his words, her nipples hardening and her clit throbbing.

"You want your tribal chief to make you feel good, sweetheart?" Roman asked.

"Yes," she whispers granting all the consent he needed to work his magic.

"Safeword is red." He tells her getting a nod in response.

"Use your words" Roman commanded

"Yes Sir" Iris responded.

Roman pulls Iris onto his lap, his lips crashing against hers in a hungry kiss. He runs his hands up her thighs, pushing her dress up and pulling her panties to the side. He slides his fingers between her folds, feeling how wet she is for him.

"You're soaked," he growls, his fingers rubbing against her clit.

Iris moans, her body arching into his touch. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his long luscious curls as he continues to tease her.

"Please," she whispers, her voice trembling with need. "I need more."

Roman grins smugly, his eyes flashing with desire. "More, huh?" he says, his fingers slipping inside her. "You want me to make you cum right here in the backseat of this car?"

Iris nods, her hips bucking against his hand as he starts to move his fingers in and out of her.

"Yes," she gasps, her eyes locked on his. "Please, make me cum, my tribal chief."

Roman's fingers move faster, his thumb rubbing against her clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of her. He leans in and whispers in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"You're so tight, babygirl," he says. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Iris's body tenses as she feels herself getting closer to the edge. She clings to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she moans his name.

"Roman, I'm going to cum," she cries out.

Roman smirks, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Come for me, babygirl," he growls, his fingers curling inside her. "Come all over my hand."

Iris's body shudders as she reaches her peak, her orgasm washing over her in waves of pleasure. She buries her face in Roman's neck, moaning and gasping as she comes undone.

After Iris comes down from her high, Roman licks her juices from his fingers savoring her taste and helps her straighten her clothes. They make their way back to her place. The car ride is quiet, comfortable quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

When they arrive at her house, Roman walks her to the door, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

Roman pulls Iris close and kisses her deeply, his tongue tangling with hers.

"Goodnight, babygirl," he whispers against her lips. "I'll see you soon."

"Damn, I'ma need one of them cousins!" Jax's voice is heard over the ring cam.

Previous Chapter ●◉◎◈◎◉● Final Chapter

[demigod-shenanigans]

Piper and Leo on the Argo II

*claps hands together*

Okay so. It’s canon that Leo practically never sleeps in his room on the Argo II. His go-to sleeping place is actually the engine room and his room is basically just an extra workshop

However. There is actually a bed in there.

Let me offer you the following hc: Piper is the main person sleeping in that bed.

I’m adopting the headcanon from Heroes of Juno that Piper and Leo used to be roommates in Wilderness School and they don’t remember it because Jason got copy pasted all over their memories. And they don’t! They don’t remember. But they spent months growing accustomed to each other’s sleep noises and drifting off to each other’s breathing to the point where it’s comforting. It’s always easier for them to fall asleep when they’re in the same room even though neither of them is quite able to put into words/explain why that is.

When Piper can’t sleep she usually ends up in Leo’s room sleeping in the abandoned bed while he tinkers in the background. It’s noisy as hell! It should bother her!

But it doesn’t.

Half the reason they ended up as roommates in wilderness aside from Hera’s meddling is that Leo’s tendency to constantly toss and turn in bed and to loudly tinker away until the wee hours of the morning caused problems with his previous roommates.

But for Piper who’s used to sleeping alone in a giant house when her dad is away on some work trip it’s a constant reminder that someone is there and that she isn’t alone. It’s comforting as hell for her to fall asleep to Leo’s noisy tinkering because it reminds her her friend is right there and if Leo is working on some contraption in the middle of the night he’s very likely still going to be there the next morning.

Similarly, Leo finds it really comforting to have someone around even if all that someone does is sleep. He’s been through a bunch of foster homes and shitty schools and despite the fact that him and Piper prank each other she’s the first roommate he’s ever felt genuinely trusting and safe enough around to sleep when she’s in the room because the pranks they play on each other are funny and not genuinely malicious the way it was with some of the other foster kids he’s shared rooms with in the past

In a bit of an unfortunate turn of events because Leo is so used to falling asleep to Piper’s breathing this means he’s ended up asleep on his work bench a few times when she was snoring in the background

“Coach Hedge wouldn’t let them do that” 1) Hedge is specifically worried about couples. Leo and Piper are not a couple, unless you’re counting them being a couple of weirdos (I say this with love) 2) We as a fandom tend to forget the fact that Leo and Piper spent weeks if not months messing with Hedge and ruining his day pre tlh. I genuinely don’t think there’s anything they couldn’t get away with if they were really trying tbh.

[rispwr]

Hate you - chapter 2 - J.JK

Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader

Notes : didn't get to do my word goal again:(( omg it's hard writing long chapters. thank you all so much for reading this story!!! please play mr perfectly fine by taylor for thiss

Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut

Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’

2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.

Contents/warnings :

Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt. not proofread

NSFW contents : a peck?

Need a break and a change

Seven months. It had been seven months without Jungkook, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you could say with a degree of confidence that you were starting to move on. Or so you thought. The days no longer felt as heavy, and the nights didn’t drag on as painfully as before. You’d started therapy, and although at first, you were skeptical, it seemed to help—at least, it gave you something to look forward to, even if most of your sessions felt like venting to a paid story listener.

What did you talk about? Everything. The breakup, the pain, the endless nights replaying memories of him. The therapist always tried to reassure you, reminding you that there were plenty of other guys out there, which you were very much aware of. But no matter how many times you heard it, it didn’t make the ache go away. You told yourself that Jungkook probably moved on by now. 

Maybe he was with someone else, 

someone new, 

someone better. 

Maybe he never loved you, 

maybe you were just another chapter in his story. 

Or maybe he did love you but didn’t know how to show it the right way.

Regardless, deep down, you knew one thing for certain: if Jungkook texted you right now, asking for a second chance, you wouldn’t hesitate. You’d go running back to him, even if you told yourself you wouldn’t. Even if you wanted to believe you were stronger than that.

It wasn’t easy admitting this to yourself, but you were trying. Every day, you made an effort to rebuild your life piece by piece. Namjoon and Sana, your constants, had been encouraging you for weeks to step outside your comfort zone. They’d been incredibly patient with you, but tonight, they weren’t taking no for an answer.

“Come on, Y/N,” Namjoon urged over the phone. His voice carried a mix of persuasion and excitement. “You’ve been hiding away for too long. Let’s just go out, have some fun, and forget about everything for a while.”

Sana chimed in from the background, her voice equally determined. “We’re not taking no for an answer! You need this. Trust us.”

After a long pause, you finally sighed in defeat. “Fine,” you said, your voice laced with mock reluctance. “I’ll go.”

Namjoon let out a triumphant cheer. “That’s the spirit! We’ll pick you up at eight.”

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, contemplating your decision. Maybe this could be good for you. Maybe you’d find someone new, someone who could make you forget about the lingering ghost of Jungkook. You knew it was a long shot, but you were willing to try.

at the club

“Babesss! You. Are. Sooooooo. Hot!!!” Sana practically screamed over the music, her eyes wide with admiration. She gave you a playful smack on the arm, her excitement infectious.

Namjoon, ever the protective one, gave you a once-over with a raised brow. “Don’t you think the dress is a little… over-revealing?” he asked, voice tinged with concern.

You smirked, ready to tease him. “Oh, quit being a dad, Namjoon. Unless…” you paused dramatically, leaning in with a mischievous glint in your eye. “Unless you’ve got a daddy kink?”

Namjoon’s face turned bright red almost instantly. “I DO NOT!” he fired back, his voice cracking slightly.

Sana, ever the chaos queen, burst out laughing. “Ohhh, Namdaddyyyy!” she joined in, dragging out the word and winking at him. Namjoon groaned, hiding his face in his hands as his ears burned.

“Alright, alright,” you said between laughs, deciding to give him a break. “I’ll get us some drinks. Try not to corrupt Namjoon too much while I’m gone.”

Sana gave you a mock salute. “No promises!” she shouted as you made your way to the bar.

“Uh… a vodka tonic, please,” you said, pausing for a moment to glance back toward your friends. “And a gin and tonic, plus a whiskey sour,” you added. The bartender nodded, swiftly preparing your order.

As you waited, a presence sidled up beside you—a man, tall and composed, dressed in a tailored suit that screamed sophistication. His dark hair was neatly styled, and a pair of sleek glasses rested on his nose. He looked older, but not in a way that felt unapproachable. No, he was HOT old. The kind of man who exuded confidence and charm effortlessly.

“Can I buy you a drink?” His voice was smooth, with a hint of playfulness.

You blinked, taken slightly off guard. Pointing to yourself, you asked, “Uh, me? You talking to me?”

He chuckled softly, a gummy smile breaking across his face. “Yes, you, silly,” he replied, his tone light and teasing.

You felt a slight warmth rise to your cheeks, but you managed to keep your composure. “Oh, sure. Of course,” you said, flashing him a small smile.

“What’s your name?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his curiosity evident.

“Oh, um… Y/N. Kim Y/N,” you replied, your smile widening just a bit as you introduced yourself.

His eyes lit up with recognition. “Kim Y/N, as in the Kims?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue.

You tilted your head in confusion, not entirely sure what he was getting at. “Uh… what do you mean?”

“RNT Inc.?” he clarified, his expression softening into a knowing smile. “Rhythm and Tune Incorporation. Your family’s company, right?”

Your posture straightened slightly, the familiar pang of recognition hitting you. “Oh… yeah. ” you said, your hand coming up to scratch the back of your neck in an awkward gesture.

“Impressive,” he said, his tone genuinely appreciative. “Cool. I’m Min Yoongi,” he added, extending a hand.

The name rang a faint bell in your mind, but it wasn’t until he added, “COO of Min Entertainment,” that everything clicked.

“Ohhh,” you said, your voice lilting with interest. “That’s cool.” You took his hand, shaking it firmly but warmly, offering him a genuine smile. “Nice to meet you.”

He returned the smile, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Likewise. So,” he began, leaning just a bit closer, “can I get your number? Maybe we could be friends... ”

The offer caught you slightly off guard, but you found yourself nodding. “Sure,” you said, glancing down, realizing you didn’t have your phone on you. “Oh, wait—sorry. I don’t have my phone right now,” you admitted with a small laugh.

He chuckled, unbothered. “No problem.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his own phone and handed it to you.

You took it, fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you keyed in your number. “There,” you said, handing it back to him.

Yoongi nodded, pocketing his phone. “You got it. I’ll reach out soon.”

You offered a small wave. “Alright, see you around, maybe?”

“Definitely,” he replied, his smile lingering as he turned back toward the crowd.

You grabbed the drinks, balancing them carefully as you made your way back to your table. Sana and Namjoon were deep in conversation, but their heads snapped up when they saw you approaching.

“Finally!” Sana exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry,” you said, placing the drinks on the table. “Met someone at the bar.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Met someone?”

You smirked, sliding into your seat. “Yeah. Min Yoongi. You know him?”

Sana nearly spat out her drink. “Min Yoongi? As in MCI Entertainment Min Yoongi?”

“Yep,” you said, sipping your drink casually. “He’s.... cool.”

Namjoon exchanged a look with Sana. “Cool? he's one of the hottest executives of that company girl.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “He just asked for my number.”

Sana gasped, grabbing your arm. “And you gave it to him, right?”

“Obviously.”

It had been a year since Jungkook. One long year of piecing yourself back together, learning to stand on your own again. Therapy sessions had helped, though you often questioned their worth. For what? For these paid story listeners to remind you there are still plenty of men out there? As if you didn’t already know. Still, despite the frustration, you knew healing wasn’t linear.

And then there was Yoongi.

You’d met him seven months ago—an unexpected encounter that had slowly turned into something... comforting. Yoongi was patient, understanding, and most importantly, he wasn’t rushing you into anything. He knew your heart wasn’t ready, and he respected that.

So when he called one day, asking for a favor, you weren’t entirely surprised.

"Hey," Yoongi's voice was soft but laced with urgency. "I know this is sudden, but would you consider being my date to the gala tomorrow? My usual partner bailed."

A long pause filled the line as you considered. You hadn’t been to any high-profile event since before Jungkook, and the thought of stepping back into that world felt overwhelming. But the sincerity in Yoongi’s voice gave you courage.

"Are you sure?" you asked, voice laced with hesitation. "I don’t want to cramp your style."

"I’m positive," Yoongi assured, his tone warm. "You’ll be great. And honestly, I’d feel more comfortable with you there."

You sighed, a small smile creeping onto your lips. "Alright. It’s been a while since I’ve attended a gala, but why not?"

"Perfect," he said, relief evident. "I’ll send over some dress options tonight. Thank you, Y/N."

The call ended, and you felt a mixture of excitement and nerves.

Before the Gala

As promised, Yoongi called, his deep voice filling the quiet of your apartment. "I’m on my way. I’ll pick you up in a few."

You quickly hummed in response, glancing at your reflection one last time. Your stylist had done an incredible job—your makeup was flawless, and your hair fell in soft waves.

"Alright, Ms. Y/N, you're all set," your stylist said with a proud smile. Just as she finished, a knock came at the door.

"Ms. Y/N, your date is waiting in the lounge," the assistant informed you.

Taking a deep breath, you thanked your stylist and made your way out. As you entered the lounge, your eyes immediately found Yoongi. He stood there in a perfectly tailored black suit, adjusting his cufflinks. His dark hair was styled neatly, and the moment he saw you, his eyes softened.

"Wow," he breathed out, his gaze trailing over you.

"What?" you asked with a small laugh, feeling your cheeks heat.

He stepped closer, offering you his hand. "I’m so lucky to have you by my side tonight."

Your heart fluttered at his words. You placed your hand in his, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. "Shall we?" he asked.

"Of course," you replied, letting him lead you out.

At the Gala

The night had barely started, but you were already reminded why you had avoided events like this for so long.

As soon as you and Yoongi stepped out of the sleek black car, camera flashes erupted around you like a relentless storm. Paparazzi swarmed, their voices loud and persistent.

"Yoongi, is she your girlfriend?" "Ms. Kim, how do you feel about breaking up with Jeon Jungkook?" "Is this the start of a new power couple?" "Are you two together?"

The barrage of questions felt suffocating. You clutched Yoongi’s arm tighter, grateful for his calm demeanor as he guided you inside. He didn’t respond to the questions, instead keeping his focus on you, shielding you from the chaos.

Once inside, the lavish setting did little to ease your nerves. The grand ballroom was filled with influential figures, CEOs, artists, and politicians. You and Yoongi found your seats at a table among other high-profile individuals. The conversation flowed easily, but your mind wandered as you sipped your martini.

Your eyes caught on a figure across the room. A tall, broad-shouldered man with familiar brown hair. His back was to you, but you knew that stance anywhere.

Jungkook.

He turned slightly, his hand intertwined with a woman’s. His signature smile, the one you once knew so well, was directed at her. They seemed happy, lost in their own world.

Your heart clenched involuntarily.

Before he could notice you, you leaned closer to Yoongi and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. He froze for a moment, eyes widening slightly, then turned to you with a flustered smile.

"Are you alright, pretty?" Yoongi asked, his voice gentle but concerned.

You glanced back across the room. Jungkook was gone. You exhaled, trying to steady your breathing. "Mhmm," you murmured. "Just... tipsy, that’s all."

Yoongi didn’t look convinced. "Wanna head back?" he offered, leaning closer.

"We just got here, Yoonzz," you whined lightly, managing a small smile.

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Alright. But if you want to go home at any point, just say the word, okay?"

You nodded, grateful for his patience. "I will. Promise."

Still, the question lingered in your mind: Who was she?

You didn’t think Yoongi would stay. Not after everything you’d been through, after all the baggage you carried with you. Yet, here he was—a constant presence in your life, steady and unwavering. A year had passed with him by your side, and while the wounds Jungkook left behind hadn’t fully healed, Yoongi had somehow made the pain more bearable.

You told yourself you liked Yoongi. It wasn’t hard to do; he was thoughtful, kind, and endlessly patient. He had seen you at your lowest and never once flinched. He took you to therapy sessions when you couldn’t face them alone, drove you to Jeju Island for peaceful getaways, and showed you places you love.

But deep down, you knew the truth. If someone were to ask, Do you still love Jungkook? the answer would come without hesitation. Yes. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, a part of your heart still belonged to him.

And yet, Yoongi was different. He was like an angel, falling into your life at a time when you thought you didn’t deserve someone like him. His love wasn’t loud or overwhelming; it was quiet, tender, and constant, like a soft breeze on a summer day. He didn’t try to replace Jungkook; he simply stayed, filling the empty spaces with his warmth.

Sometimes, when you looked at him, you wondered what he saw in you. Why he chose to stay when he could’ve easily walked away. But Yoongi never asked for more than you could give. He understood your hesitation, your lingering feelings, and still, he chose you.

And for that, you were grateful. you were always grateful

It was an unusually quiet morning when your mom called you. Her voice was calm, but there was a weight to it, a seriousness that immediately made your stomach twist. “Y/N, we’re having a family meeting later today. Please don’t be late,” she said, then hung up before you could ask any questions.

When you arrived at the family estate, the large, ornate doors of the meeting room loomed before you. This room had witnessed countless important decisions over the years, and now it was your turn to step inside. As you pushed open the heavy doors, you were greeted by the sight of your family seated around the grand oak table. Your mom was at the head, her presence commanding as always.

Your cousins were there, whispering amongst themselves, their sharp features and expensive suits a reminder of the high expectations within your family.  there was Jin, your cousin, sitting calmly, his hands clasped on the table.

You took a seat, trying to ignore the growing anxiety clawing at your chest.

Once everyone had settled, Jennie, your sister, stood up. Her poise and elegance were undeniable; she was the embodiment of what everyone expected in the next CEO. The company had been preparing her for this role for years. So, what she said next completely blindsided you.

“Y/N, everyone,” Jennie began, her tone even but resolute. “I’ve decided to step down from becoming the CEO of our family company.”

The room fell silent. You could hear the faint ticking of the antique clock on the wall. You blinked, sure you’d misheard. “What?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. “What are you talking about?” you blurted out, not even bothering to hide your shock. Jennie was the golden child of the family, groomed for this role since the day she could walk. 

Jennie leaned back in her chair, a calm but determined expression on her face. “I’ve thought long and hard about this,” she said. “I realized I didn't want it anymore. I want to be a model and start my own company without needing moms or dads help. I'm done handling all the pressure. It's better off with it being you, y/n”

The words hit you like a freight train. “Jennie, I—” You stumbled over your words, your mind racing. “I don’t know… I don’t think I can do it.”

Your mom, seated at the head of the table, leaned forward, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “Honey, it’s for the best,” she said softly, her voice laced with encouragement. “You’re capable, and we all believe in you.”

You glanced over at Jin, hoping for some kind of lifeline. He was always the voice of reason, the one who could find a way out of any situation. “Jin…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

 “Y/N, everyone would kill for that position” he said. “ you shouldn't waste an opportunity that big”

“But Jin, I majored in literature,” you protested, your voice cracking. “I don’t know anything about running a company. I’ll fail, and I’ll bring the whole company down with me.”

Your mom reached out, taking your hand in hers. “You won’t fail, sweetheart. You have a natural talent for leadership, and with the right guidance, you’ll thrive,” she said. “How about this? I’ll personally mentor you. We’ll set up a comprehensive training program, and by the end of the year... december, you can decide whether or not this is the path you want to take.”

You hesitated, the weight of her words settling over you. Could you really do this? Could you step into a role that had seemed so far removed from your reality, from your dreams? But then you thought about your family, about the legacy they’d built and the trust they were placing in you.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice steady but your heart pounding. “I’ll give it a try.”

The room erupted in supportive smiles and nods. Your mom squeezed your hand, and Jin gave you an approving nod. Even Jennie looked relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Good,” your mom said, her voice filled with pride. “We’ll start your training tomorrow.”

"I can't believe this," you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You felt suffocated by the weight of it all

You walked out of the meeting room, your mind a mix of confusion, anger, and frustration. Everything had been thrown at you all at once, and now you were expected to just take it and be okay with it.

 As you walked down the hallway, hoping to get a moment of peace, you were met with jin, your cousin.

He was leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, looking like he had all the time in the world. "You know, this position was my dream," he said, scoffing as he eyed you. "But look at me now. I’m just a CMO," he added, chuckling bitterly.

You stopped in your tracks, an eyebrow raised. "What are you trying to say, Jin?" you asked, already sensing the underlying tone in his words.

He gave you a knowing look. "Everyone would die for the position you were offered, Y/N," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But here you are, acting like it's some huge burden. You're being handed the keys to the kingdom, and you're just going to throw it away."

You couldn’t help but feel your frustration rise. "I don’t want this, Seokjin. You think I can just take over and magically become CEO? I’m a writer! I know how to make books, not run a multimillion-dollar company!" you fired back, your voice steady but sharp.

Jin rolled his eyes at your response. "You always have an excuse. You’re just making it harder for yourself." He scoffed again, his tone dismissive. "Can you stop being the shadow of the family for once? It’s honestly embarrassing. Everyone is waiting for you to step up, but you keep hiding behind your little books and stories."

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a brief moment, your heart tightened. "I don’t want to ruin the family’s reputation," you said, your voice faltering for just a moment. "I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to run a company. What if I mess up? What if I fail and get everything bankrupt?"

Jin's expression hardened, and his voice turned cold. "That’s why Auntie is giving you training, right?" he said with a sneer. "But let’s be real. You’re just delaying the inevitable. You’re not cut out for this. Maybe that’s why Jungkook dumped you," he added, his words slicing through the air. "He knew you didn’t value the wealth and power you were given."

You froze, your mind momentarily going blank. The words stung more than you cared to admit. "What?" Your voice was quiet, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

Jin shrugged, walking past you with a smirk on his face. "You heard me," he muttered under his breath as his shoulder brushed against yours.

The anger inside you flared up, but you couldn’t find the words to express it. You stood there, staring after him, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of his words seemed to settle into your bones, and for the first time in a long time, you felt small.

It wasn’t about the company, or the position, or even your family’s expectations. It was about the things you’d never said out loud—the guilt, the fear, the uncertainty. Was he right? Were you failing the family, failing yourself? Were you not cut out for any of this?

You stood there for a moment longer, the sound of Jin’s footsteps fading away as the hallway grew eerily silent. All you wanted to do was scream, but instead, you stood still, a single tear slipping down your cheek, before quickly wiping it away.

taglist : @crazyovayou @minghaosimp @pitchblack0309 @kpopsmutty69 @junecat18 @primadonnasdream @minimoniminimoni @7lilacpetals @vonvi-blog @jk97bam @kissyfacekoo @baechugff @chuberry22 @nerdycheol @etaernaluv @kooloveys

[acourtofthought]

Out of Elucien and Gwynriel, who do you think is more likely to have their story told next, and why?

I just want to preface this by saying Sarah could absolutely write either pairing first. Only she knows what her 5 year (10 year??) plan is for this series and whether Koschei is supposed to be a bigger bad than he currently seems or whether she's going to introduce an even worse villain that she'll tie into different crossover plots. All that could make a difference in who is getting the next book.

With that said........

I think Elucien makes the most sense. First they are both more strongly connected to the current ACOTAR plots. At the end of SF they were worried about Beron, Koschei, those on the continent not signing the peace treaty, the issues in Spring.

To date, neither Bloomsbury or Sarah has ever made the announcement that you need to read the CC series to understand the next ACOTAR book. Even if they did it wouldn't make a lot of sense because most casual readers don't follow Sarah or Bloomsbury therefore they'd have no way to know what order you needed to read the series in. To me, that logically means the events of HOFAS cannot kick off the next ACOTAR book and truth be told, the ending of HOFAS didn't actually leave us with an actual plot that needs resolved. There were hints of what might come but the characters were not left thinking, "this is a threat to our world right now and we need to deal with it." Especially not when they already have more pressing threats to their world, the ones that were introduced in ACOWAR, the novella and SF.

Second, Elain and Lucien have been waiting a very long time for the resolution to their mating bond / love story. It's not that Sarah can't dive into a Gwynriel romance but I'm not sure their romance is more of a story right now. There's no real tension between them that needs resolved, they're in the baby stages of things. It's a beautiful place for them to be of course, it's fun to see them beginning to interact but I think it would be odd for Az to go from lusting after Mor, wanting to go down on Elain then end up mated to / in love with Gwyn all within the same year. I think Az could use a bit of time where he's removed from his centuries of pining for unattainable women to focus on his issues alone so that he's the right kind of love interest for Gwyn. And where Gwyn has a little more time to explore the world outside of the library, where she's not going from leaving it for the first time in two years to being mated to Az that same year. (Girl deserves to see what else is out there and make Az sweat a bit).

But Elain and Lucien? Their will they / won't they has been a major theme in the series since book 2 and not only for them but for all the characters. Feyre and Nesta struggled with the realization of the Elucien bond then finally came around to it. Az can't stand the scent of their bond, Cassian feels sad for Lucien's longing over his bond, Rhys is worried about the ramifications of Az trying to dick Lucien over because of the Elucien bond. To me, it's not something that can really continue lingering on in the background without resolution, not when every single character is talking about it / thinking about it. Not the way Gwynriel's romance could easily take a backseat and Sarah could give it a little more time to cook, add a little more drama to their setup.

With that said, I'm not Sarah so I have no idea if her thoughts are similar to my thoughts!

[unnaturalequilibrium]

Capítulo 6

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

I like that Luis forces Marta to do the very thing Fina tried to get her to do in the job interview, let the perfume rest on her skin before giving it a whiff. Is this meant to be the thing that tipped the scales in Fina’s favour? Or do we think Fina was always going to be Marta’s first choice as new shopgirl? I wonder when Marta started noticing Fina, I mean sure I think once she got into that uniform she was forced to see her in a new light. But I’m still curious to what it was like before that. It’s clear they knew a lot about each other, but to what extent really?

As I’m watching beyond just the Mafin scenes I’m surprised to see how similar Luis and Marta are and the way their stories are structured. They’ve both got that kind of infectious drive only in different fields.  That strong sense of right and wrong too, with an insane work ethic and a desire to make the world a better place I think. It’s also super easy to imagine their siblings running around as kids, climbing a hill, kicking a ball and Luis and Marta being left behind with an antfarm, an abbacus and a lot of curious questions.

Petra put down the fucking shovel, the hole is big enough for the Titanic without you going and insulting Marta too on top of everything. This isn’t Journey to the Center of the Earth, you can stop digging now. Have I mentioned I hate her? Because I do, I really do.

Marta with a notepad or a folder in her hands is another one of those moments when I sort of feel like the Universe might be catering to me, but I don’t mind.

Marta is especially demanding in this episode, ordering Luz and Luis around - telling them to get their little butts into gear and work work. Watching the episodes back to back it now sort of stands out to me how she showed one emotion last episode and now she needs to be super competent at her work to make up for it. In her eyes at least. It actually makes me really curious about how much background the actors get on their characters and about future storylines. Because it does sort of come across as this is Marta throwing herself into her work to make up for that perceived failure of last episode, that whole business of her not being able to make her father proud through her unconventional marriage and the fact that she is childless. And knowing that she never will be able to as her marriage is mostly a cage and at best an inconvenience. Her behaviour in this episode gives a sense of - if she can’t make her father proud of who she is, then maybe she can make him proud of her achievements at least. Over-achieving daughter of an emotionally distant man, we've all been there, right?! Right?

As a rule there’s a lot of heartbreak and all kinds of personal problems being aired, but there’s always something about seeing Fina, Carmen and Claudia together in their room that makes me happy. Their room feels like a home, it’s soft and comforting despite at its core being a very spartan dormitory.

Fina telling them she’s going out with Petra and at least Carmen has the decency to not say anything, Claudia on the other hand runs straight for the idea that the two of them will be so pretty together they’ll immediately attract boyfriends. Oh Claudia. I love a good running joke so I sort of hope they never tell Claudia about lesbianism. Let her live her life without knowing that is a thing that exists so that we as an audience can keep mocking her forever and ever.

[lediz-watches]

Oxventure

Because dammit, I need to smile today and no one makes me smile more than these people.

Oxventure is an amazing group of people that play tabletop roleplaying games on youtube and spotify. They are Chaotic Good in the best way possible.

And I think we all need more chaotic good in our lives today.

Okay, first off, I must show my colours: I have been watching their parent channel Outside Xbox almost since it began, and they are actually why I got a Youtube Premium account (Youtube, you owe these people more than 2/3rds of my subscription). They are my background noise. So obviously I'm biased, but this post is about the Oxventure channel and why I love it.

Lately, they've been marketing themselves as an actual play channel, technically rivalling Critical Role, but I don't like to think of them like that. To me, Oxventure is more storytelling improv that happens to use tabletop mechanics as a prop. And the reason that's an important distinction is because Oxventure is at its best when it's being silly.

So. Some background.

Oxventure is, in alphabetical order, Andy, Ellen, Jane, Johnny, Luke, and Mike, and a host of guests when they feel the need. It began as a one-off milestone celebration on Outside Xbox where everyone but Mike (he had a Car Thing) played Dungeons and Dragons--most of them for literally the first time--on camera. Since then, it has expanded into its own channel with six series of varying prominence and many one-shots.

If you want to see them at their most condensed and I would argue truest form, I recommend DnD but everyone is a Kobold.

Their shows can run the full gambit from silly (the kobold shows) to high adventure (Oxventure Blades in the Dark) to wholesome (Tea-Time Adventures) to absurd (DnD but it's Pokemon) to emotional body-slams (Oxventure Deadlands) to quietly creepy (Oxventure Wyrdwood). But at its core, whatever series you're watching, Oxventure is about friends gathering together to have fun as they make their way in a world that seems a bit insane.

The original game/series/what have you is The Oxventurers Guild, which remains my favourite. Their motto (seen in Latin above) is "Everyone Should Have Thought Of Everything", meaning that they have a habit of just diving into things without thinking and then being shocked Pikachus when the consequences arrive.

The characters (and world) are a mess, but the thing that was most wonderful is that the group were learning how to play DnD on screen. They screwed up the rules, they lost dice, they forgot about feats... a running gag is that Mike, playing a paladin, has only the loosest concept of his own abilities and will randomly read his character sheet to discover something that would have been useful last session. Meanwhile Ellen made arguably the most powerful character, with what should have been one of the most powerful spells, and yet was the first knocked out in their PVP session because of a few unlucky rolls.

Johnny is an amazing first-time DM, too, because they just... let the group play. They run with the rules until the rules stop being fun. And that's what makes Oxventure so enjoyable for me.

I remember trying to watch a few Actual Plays after the first episode of Oxventure, and I can remember the exact moment I checked out. It was when a player made a joke, and the DM gave her a very direct Look and firmly informed her that if she didn't immediately take it back, there would be mechanical consequences.

Compare and contrast Johnny, whose attempt to show the Oxventurers Actions Have Consequences nearly ended with a bunch of evil skeletons realising that actually, they didn't realise how hard it was to avoid evil consequences so maybe they should cut the players some slack and stop giving such horrible consequence - wait! No! Bad bosses no make skeletons behave!

(We love the Sixty Skeletons, Flaming Skull Foreman, and Skeleton Donkey) (don't ask) (it only kind of makes sense in context)

But that's not all on Johnny - a lot of it comes down to the beautiful muppets that are the original players, and specifically Andy, Jane, and Mike, who have been a chaotic force of good online since they joined together to form Outside Xbox in 2009.

These three, and by extension all of Oxventure, are a little silly, always snarky, incredibly good at what they do but always beset by terrible luck and worse technology. They are also incredibly well-meaning (and hilarious) even when they're actively trying to be horrible (unrelated to this post but PLEASE watch their Hitman videos for further proof of this). And that carries through to their characters, who can be card carrying evil and yet still care so deeply about their friends that you can't help but love them.

An example of their chaotic competence is in an episode of their latest series Wyrdwood. There was a short of Johnny and Producer Zack talking about how Wyrdwood is a very creepy series starring the human equivalent of the Muppets, which is so true, but I would like to draw attention to a specific moment to prove my point:

In this particular episode, Johnny has created a truly terrifying scenario: trapped in mist with music playing beyond their hearing, the team are being picked off one by one despite specific measures to the contrary, until the characters played by the Oxbox trio are alone in oppressive danger. Things look dire. They know they're in trouble and helpless. It's only a matter of time before they're all gone.

They promptly spend the next five minutes flailing, yelling at each other, completely ruin Johnny's nefarious trap, locate their friends, and set themselves up to win the whole day while seemingly focussed entirely on figuring out which of them should be blamed for screwing up.

Even Johnny doesn't seem to know whether to be offended their whole scary vibe was just destroyed or impressed by how effortless the trio made it look, and I feel like that's the correct response.

And I think that's what I love about this series, and these people. They give me a kind of... exasperated hope for all of us.

I have to admit, when I first heard about Wyrdwood and saw the art, I was worried, because I thought Oxventure were going serious. But then, only a few minutes into the first episode, Jane uttered the immortal words 'Luck Pervert' to describe Luke's newest character and I knew we'd be fine.

These people are silly. They tell silly stories.

But they are stories about love, and friendship, and trying even against impossible odds, and making tough choices, and growing as people. All while you and the world around you are a complete mess and everything seems insane. You can still be better, and make the world better, even if it seems like you're just making more of a mess right now.

You watch, and you cringe, and you sigh and call them all 'absolute muppets', and then you cheer as they come up with some insane plan that shouldn't work and yet always, somehow, without rhyme, reason, or explanation... works.

They are silly, and they are heartfelt, and I suspect I will binge-watch the entire channel all over again this Christmas break.

Because while the Oxventurers' motto may be "Everyone should have thought of everything", the fact is no one has. So just go with what you've got.

And it might work out okay.

[translatemunson]

file 001 — call sign: Hyde

chapter one of death defying acts

masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie.

It has been the longest 48 hours of your life.

You were supposed to touch down in San Diego on a Monday, but because of an airline error, your flight was postponed to late Tuesday, from an airport 2 hours away from Fallon, Nevada. When you arrived, Tuesday night, there was no time to unpack your stuff, just to find a clean uniform in the boxes, pack yourself a bag for your first day, check if your father got enough gas on your car, get your bed ready and sleep.

You were expected in the San Diego Naval Air Station North Island at the break of dawn. You would be lying if you said you weren’t excited or anxious to work in such a historical place like North Island. Your mother told you stories from when she worked there, decades ago, and your dad said the best teams were assembled there, amongst the Top Gun students. The pressure was on.

You joined the Navy in your home state, but you were transferred around during your fighter pilot training, and then again for Intelligence officer training. After completing the training, you transferred to Nevada to get a more in depth experience on Air missions with the Top Gun graduates, but that didn’t lead you to working with them during real missions.

Now being in San Diego, you knew it was your chance to impress the higher ups and finally earn some well deserved respect for your work. Intelligence Work was just as hard as flying those jets, but there was something always making your next step even harder inside those officers and mission control rooms.

The guy at the gates checked your ID. Once he cleared your entry, you drove to the Administration Office, ready to get your new credentials and get the job done. You parked your black Renegade, texted your mom — Hey, it’s gonna be a busy day. I’ll call you on Friday. —, grabbed your backpack and entered the place like you were on a mission.

It was like being on autopilot: waiting rooms, greetings, new credentials, a quick introduction to your new Intelligence team, a look at the following weeks schedule, a long meeting with Admiral Simpson — call sign Cyclone — discussing all the classified information you had to know about the team you would be working closely with. Names, call signs, previous missions and confirmed air kills. Familiar faces, new ones, a few last names you knew came from a line of ex military parents, just like you.

It was way past two when you were clear from all the first day activities. The Admiral ended the presentation just as his secretary entered the room to let him know he was needed in the meeting room.

“Don’t hesitate to stop by if you have questions, Officer. Your father spoke very highly of you and your work.” Oh, of course, he knew your father. Everybody was familiar with the teaching techniques from the one and only Warbird. “I believe Captain Mitchell is conducting flying exercises on Hangar One, if you’re interested in meeting the Dagger Squad.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” You collected all the files that were designated to you. “Will do.”

It was a good idea to just turn to the parking and go home, but you were curious to meet part of the team. Differently from other previous missions, all your analysis and suggestions would go through the captains and admirals before they made any decisions. But still, it was very important for you to understand what was at stake and which suggestions could be made right away.

You stopped by your car to throw your bag on the passenger seat and followed the path to the hangar. The waiting room was empty, but you saw a few silhouettes on the tarmac, going through the end of the day checklist. You turned the volume of the radio on, trying to gather some information about who was on the air. Besides a few directions here and there, they were useless to find out who those pilots were.

You could tell one of them was arrogant by their tone, maybe even too snarky and impatient. Based on their banter, it was clear they were doing basic maneuver training, and Maverick was the one chasing them. Some good old flight training tactics, you see. For a team that just got back from a dangerous mission — barely in one piece, but still — you were wondering why they kept those guys back for another one instead of taking advantage of Maverick’s skills and getting a new team there. Maybe even with the almost mission failure, there was potential amongst those aviators.

“You’re out, kid.” You heard Maverick on the radio, and more grumblings from the other guy.

You left the waiting room and finally walked to the tarmac. Arms crossed over your chest, you were looking forward to the following day, where you would gather details about their flight styles and their skills during missions. You had something around ten weeks to settle down and learn everything about the team before you’re deployed to a mission.

The F/A-18s landed graciously, and that constant nostalgia hit you again, leaving you wondering how would it feel to be back on a jet, what would feel to be on an official mission. Those days were far gone for you, the idea of flying just in case of traveling, and maybe a few minutes in one of your dad’s planes. But just for a moment enough to pump some adrenaline, landing on the tarmac just before your mind picked up the speed.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” You turned around and smiled at the sight of a familiar face.

“You wouldn’t be backseating if your sighting was bad, Robert.” You joked. Bob joined the Navy in the same period as you, and you trained together until the very last day you hopped on a jet. “Heard you managed the impossible.”

“Just doing my job.”

You hugged him, and finally those aviators started to pay attention to you.

“Who’s the pretty face, Bob?” A tall, tanned skin and blond aviator asked. “Your girlfriend?”

“Keep it in your pants, Bagman.” A woman came from behind one of the jets.

“Glad to see you’re still as sharp as that one training in Nevada, Phoenix.” You were happy to be back with Natasha Trace. She was one of the Navy aviators in one of the mission simulations you had back in Nevada, two years ago. It was one of the first times you stepped in as mission commander, and while other aviators weren’t happy with your orders, Phoenix was one of the few that happily followed them — and succeeded in the simulation.

“What? Did I miss any memo about a new pilot?” Bagman turned around.

“Not a pilot, Seresin.” Maverick finally showed up. “Officer, glad you could join us.”

“Captain, would you have a minute to discuss a few details about next week's mission simulation?” Time was precious for you. As soon as you could align the information you had in hand with the captain, the easier it would be to come up with plans for action.

“Definitely not a pilot.” Just like a shadow to his father, Bradley Bradshaw even carried the same mustache you saw in your dad’s pictures. You two had never crossed paths during your career in the Navy, but aviators would talk a lot over a few beers and drinks. And you were not looking forward to working with him.

“I’ll meet you in the office in 5,” he replied and went his way.

You turned around, now facing a bigger group of curious aviators. The Dagger Squadron. You knew their names and faces now, but that didn’t matter a lot.

“Ok, so who are you exactly?” Bagman, or Seresin, asked.

“People call me Hyde.” Even though your last name was embroidered in your uniform, people tended to ignore it. Your call sign from when you were flying jets carried over to the Intelligence rooms because of your reputation. “I’m part of the Navy Intelligence, and I’m gonna be training closely with you,” you looked around, “and be part of the next mission.”

You weren’t planning on being there for longer than one mission: you needed to prove yourself to your superiors in order to get assigned to missions overseas, with international teams. It was just another mission for you.

“We’ll be seeing each other soon. Have a nice evening, aviators.”

You turned around and walked back to the hall, but before you could be out of reach, you heard someone saying, “Who the hell does she think she is?”

a/n: hello everyone! first fanfic for top gun: maverick, let me know what you guys think! i believe this will be more fast paced, focused on reader and her life as an intelligence officer (i made up most of the stuff for it since it's not easy to find info about it on the internet). huge shout out to the lovely @live-love-be-unique for indulging in this universe with me! i'm taking requests for this fic, so feel free to reach out via asks or dms! see ya soon.

[sonknuxadow]

just read the spring broken special and one thing i want to comment on is that idw sonic background characters are so cute . why are they putting so much effort into designing characters that will get little to no attention. im not complaining but you know

[artkaninchenbau]

People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again

[dreamsy990]

some of the less nice thoughts about being aroace

extras below the cut

sketch

closeups on my favorite panels

bonus: adios