#which is to say. if any of you are mean about him being rightfully sick of this shit. i Will start blasting.

[crimeronan]

kitkat this is mean but i do at this point assume that anyone who gets mad about the aphobia episode of housemd, which is late in s8, is simply and straightforwardly racist, homophobic, intersexist, etc. like if that is the one (1) bad thing you think is worth talking about - a single, one-off episode that was admittedly terrible but nothing like the constant and unrelenting greatest bigotry hit parade that is the show as a whole - i simply don't think that is an opinion i will be listening to. THERE'S BIGGER PROBLEMS!!!!

my perspective on this is, i think, both a little kinder AND a lot meaner than yours -- i 100% think that the Vast Majority of people who never shut up about the asexuality episode have simply..... never watched house MD. like, i really think that's it. they just have not seen the show. the only thing they KNOW about the show is the asexuality episode.

in fact, i'd say that 80% of people who derail my ableism posts EXPLICITLY tag or comment some variation of, "i'd never watch this / i already knew the show was bad / this doesn't surprise me because of the asexuality episode."

so it's not like.... necessarily that they think asexuality is the Only Thing Anyone Can Ever Talk About. it's just that it's the only thing they ever HAVE seen anyone talk about. and they're parroting whatever they've heard.

without. knowing. anything. about. the show.

like. it's just that they legitimately, honest to God somehow think that the asexuality episode was DIFFERENT, and that asexuals were UNIQUELY maligned, because they Literally Have Not Watched The Source Material. and so they don't know how often it happened. to everyone. or how systemic it was. or how cruel the writers were on a constant basis.

i think that this is the truest read of all this discourse. at the very least, it's the only read that makes me Not Actively Homicidal, so it is the one i must cling to.

there are a LOT of viral posts about house MD that criticize the asexuality episode without criticizing anything else. and those DO make me raise my eyebrows, bc presumably the OPs have watched the whole show, and so i'm like. why do you seem to take issue with the asexuality stuff but Not any of the other stuff.

BUT. if i am being good faith and nice to people... i figure it's, like, Ffffine.... for asexual people to make their own posts about house MD. since i am making my own posts about ableism in house MD. talking about one thing is fine. even if it makes me raise my eyebrows. bc as you said, it's one ep late in season 8 that sucks but. is not, uh. it's not the core of the show.

it DOES vex me that discussion of the treatment of asexuality gets SOOOO MUCH MORE VIRAL TRACTION HERE than any discussion of ableism, but it doesn't surprise me, exactly... about 50ish percent of this website is ace (last i knew?), and a MUCH smaller percentage is chronically ill. and on top of that, sooo many chronically ill ppl exist in a weird space with criticism of house MD in the first place, because he's the Pain Blorbo who's a Sick Doctor, he's like the only ornery bitchy chronic illness representation a lot of people have experienced, and that often Means Things to ppl with chronic illness. and so sometimes they feel Weird And Uncomfortable acknowledging that the show is also, um. really really reaaaalllyyyyy mean and cruel.

and just generally. not great. to us.

so. the posts about ableism..... don't circulate. at least not outside of very specific chronic illness circles. bc you have to be Nuanced about the chronic illness stuff, there's a lot of Uncomfortable Feelings involved, and the asexuality stuff is MUCH more straightforwardly terrible ragebait, which is very easy to get mad about & reblog with tags about how you are mad.

With All Of That Said.

i DO think that if people read a post that's being critical of how house MD hurts disabled/chronically ill people, or they read a post about any of the other many many many Many evil bigoted episodes in the series, and their ONLY takeaway is to type, "well, i knew it was bad because i heard about the asexuality thing!"

....i DO think that is thoughtless and cruel. and i do think that people should stop doing that.

and i have locked numerous posts because of people doing that.

and if people start doing that in my notes again, i will be instablocking and possibly locking more posts. because. please.

you do NOT have to say, "i already knew it was bad because X," or, "did you know it was also bad about X??" when the post is not about X. i was not talking about X. i agree that X is bad, but i would like to talk about Y right now, and this kind of smug kneejerk "i consume media the right way <3 i know that it's bad when it's bad" response makes it.... impossible.

like. i am being Earnest As Fuck about ableism and my own life experiences and the horrific structural inequality/oppression/violence/etc in the medical system. it's written about a TV show, but it's not Actually About A TV Show. you know?? my thoughts about house MD are my thoughts about The Actual Real Life Medical System and Actual Real Life Doctors. I'm Trying To Say Something Important .

now is NOT the time for, "oh, yeah, and the asexuality episode was bad!"

NOOOO..... FOCUS ON THE WORDS I JUST SAID INSTEAD. BLEASE,

[aluraveil]

yandere ex pm dazai x reader

im imagining a scenario where it turns out that pm dazai doesnt really love you and that you were just a toy for him to play around with..

you're angry and rightfully upset and you're in tears and sobbing. you thought dazai loved you and it turns out that he didnt? what a sick joke.

buuuut then dazai sort of realizes that he's alone without you. there's a sick feeling of regret crawling up his spine.

and once he starts to regret, it hits him hard. he went from not caring and then did a whole 180 and started to miss you a lot.

once hes in the phase where regret eats up at him, he's quite literally scary as fuck. all of a sudden he becomes more agitated, more selfish, and has less patience.

all of his subordinates and people working under him can tell that dazai is a time ticking bomb about to explode. when he regrets, dazai becomes more aggressive and downright scary. if his men fail a mission they are all getting severely punished. dazai just doesn't have the patience anymore.

it doesn't get any better when he becomes the port mafia's boss. if anything, he becomes even worse. if you thought mafia executive 'Demon Prodigy' dazai was scary, you haven't seen anything.

as the boss of the port mafia, dazai is naturally in charge of everything that happens as he quite literally is the highest ranking member of the mafia because he's the leader. during the time period he takes over as the boss, nobody even wants to mess with him.dazai has much more influence over everything during this time and you can bet that he has been watching over you for quite some time.

it doesn't take long for dazai to snatch you back up. he quite literally was 'suffering' and in so much 'pain' without you even when it was clearly his fault. you cant blame yourself for leaving him. who wants to be with someone who doesnt love you? nobody right?

during this time, he tries to run into you by coincidence. at this point he sometimes runs into you if you worked at a restaurant or something. he tries to play it cool but you both know what his true intentions are and it doesn't need to be said out loud.

you however, are downright terrified. this is literally the same guy who committed 625 counts of fraud. 625. not to mention he is the literal boss of the port mafia. the boss. the frickin boss.

you're scared because you dont believe he will show any mercy towards you. this is because the two of you arent 'lovers' (you don't know if the both of you ever were because dazai didnt hold any feelings for you) and he probably sees you as nothing more than a stupid idiot. this is not the same dazai you loved. this is the dazai that doesnt love you meaning that he doesnt care about you which in turn means that if something happened to you, he just straight up doesnt care.

he starts calling you 'belladonna' and 'darling' again which feels awkward and disgusting. whenever he calls you that you straight up wince and cringe and you don't even try to hide it. there's a whole wave of awkwardness that lingers in the air when you just reply back with a "..hi?.." dazai senses that the tension in the air is so thick that you could slice through it but him being him he just straight up dgaf.

you're not thrilled to see him whatsoever. when he comes here he doesn't even order any food and just tries to talk to you. he always leaves you a huge tip when he does leave though. you never take it though. you dont want his money. the next time he does come you give the money back to him and but he refuses to take it back saying "you've been working so hard belladonna, you deserve to treat yourself." again with the belladonna thing. it doesnt feel right for him to call you that at all.

dazai knows that youre refusing his advances but it doesnt stop him from trying. afterall you loved him once. thats all that matters. its only the results that matter in the end right?

right?

...

maybe.

[ms-cartoon]

Y'know, even at this point, I still don't see how these two would even be friends.

I mean yeah, maybe they can get along and relate a little bit to one another. Maybe they can care a little bit about each other behind closed doors. But anything along the lines of being attached, best friends, platonic friends, boyfriends (hopefully not)? I just don't see it. I wouldn't recommend it. Even during this entire bullshit musical number, I still don't sense any chemistry. And it's not just because of the song or what the point of it all was.

The dynamic between these two is thought out so poorly and Viv is only forcing it at this point. She might as well only be pushing this ship because her fans want it to happen.

Cuz there is no taking away the fact that Angel is a constant uncomfortable flirt with Husk. Pushing his boundaries, touching him, and talking dirty. Obviously, Husk is rightfully annoyed by it and has all the reason in the world to not like Angel, no matter what trauma he goes through. Not to mention he was talking a lot of mess to Angel this episode, and it really upset him. And now that they had a heart-to-heart talk (which I don't see how that had any impact on their dynamic cuz there's hardly anything similar between them) it's all water under the bridge?? I never even heard Angel apologize for how he behaved around Husk. Like what- just cuz that's the kind of person he is and it's a trauma response, that means it's okay and he shouldn't feel sorry??? I get so sick and tired of that crappy excuse!!

What is it with Viv and shipping her characters with harassers???

The arguments that they have feel so sudden and forced anyway. I feel like the only reason why it happened was so that their relationship could feel earned later, but it just doesn't work.

As a matter of fact, Husk shouldn't even have been the one to chase after Angel. If anything, I think CHARLIE should've gone after Angel and had a talk with him! Cuz not only would it have been a chance for this episode to be focused on her (THE MAIN CHARACTER IN VIV's FEMALE-CENTERED SHOW) This could've been a chance for Angel to probably have more trust and care for Charlie which he never had in the first place. Especially when Charlie sort of got him in trouble with Valentino. She wanted to apologize to Angel so badly? Freakin go after him and say ur sorry! Why are you wasting your time on these silly ass notes!! Maybe this could've been a chance for Charlie to learn how bad Angel has it and that not every sinner who's as troubled as him could easily make a change for the better. And if Husk absolutely has to be centered as well, have him be shown enough times as Charlie was.

This show could've had a chance to be female-focused as Viv said it would be, but she and Adam blew it by the time episode 2 was uploaded cuz she favors all her male characters and ships much more than the opposite sex.

[gaiaxygang]

rereading ena3 because i'm unwell

(condensed for character limit)

first, i am very proud of ena for facing this assignment head on and instead of giving up or trying against next time, decides to bring it home and try again.

putting the rest under the cut because this got HORRENDOUSLY long lmao i just love this story so much.

to my pit babe mutuals..... this is the story focused on the pair i mean when i say Omg This Reminds Me Of KentaWay. the direct cause of my 50k++ pit babe wordcount on ao3 even. they are very important to me!!!

something to be said about ena drawing herself first before eventually basing her artwork off mafuyu instead... very gay. and also another thing that points to them not being so different after all (which is the realisation ena comes to at the end of this story).

ena hates asahina mama so much i think it's cute. this is so telling of ena's hotheaded approach to things and her not really understanding mafuyu's circumstances. mafuyu can't just tell her mom when she's unhappy with something.

mafuyu changes the topic to the new demo and ena is so frustrated and rightfully so. that's what ena's kindness is like. she knows it can be hard, but she just does not understand why mafuyu would keep quiet even when she is clearly suffering. and she is frustrated for mafuyu too.

when ena sees that mafuyu would rather get drenched in the rain than go home because when i go home, it feels a little cold, and it's painful, ena drags her to her home. ena gives mafuyu shelter from the literal rain, as well as a warm place to stay away from the metaphorical storm. and in true ena fashion, she expresses this with an angry face.

mafuyu's arc is covered with rain imagery (no, ena is not the Rain Imagery Character even though watashi wa ame is her song. it has always been the key symbolism in mafuyu's arc) and this is the start of it!

if you get sick like this, i'll sorta feel bad!

this is when it clicks for ena, i think. because ena's dream of becoming as an artist has been rejected by shinei before. 2 years later, she still remember how much it hurt, and how it haunts her to this day.

but ena doesn't understand keeping quiet in order to prevent rejection. why would she? when her family always speaks their mind, even when it hurts others. when shinei, despite his good intentions, crushed her heart by saying what he believed in without any tact or context. when he talked to her like a fellow artist rather than his daughter, even though what ena needed was the support of a parent.

this is only mentioned later on but one thing i find interesting is that this story takes place while shinei is out overnight for work. shinonome mama, ena and akito are all on good, bickering terms. however ena does not talk to shinei at all and avoids him as much as he can. i imagine the dinner scene later in this story would be quite different if he was there lol.

ena: that... i might be able to understand that, a little.

geh. ena is so frustrated seeing mafuyu fall deeper and deeper into that cycle her and niigo have been trying to get her out of.

which is why ena takes the phone from mafuyu, puts on a cheerful, polite front, and lies to asahina mama. her act here reminds me a bit of mafuyu's fake smile honestly. she hates associating herself with shinei but she knows asahina mama is the type of person who would fall for it, so she uses it to her advantage, to help mafuyu. and it works!

(it pisses me off to use his name, but...) yes, he's shinonome shinei... do you know him?

gah, the dinner scene... ena giving all her carrots to mafuyu is so cute. akito thinking mafuyu must take care of ena a lot when it's actually the other way around is so cute. mafuyu meeting the in-laws (who adore her) is so cute. everything about this scene is so cute.

shinonome mama can understand asahina mama's feelings, because she can get worried about ena the same way. for a second mafuyu thinks that her mom truly is just worried about her, but...

the difference between shinonome mama and asahina mama is that shinonome mama unconditionally supports ena. she isn't perfect (she seems to be unaware of just how hurt ena was by her fight with shinei, but tries her best to support ena when she sees ena shutting herself away) but just by being supportive she is already so much better than asahina mama, who wants mafuyu to discard the only thing that makes her happy in order to become what asahina mama wants, and invades mafuyu's privacy.

asahina mama always phrases it in such a way that seems genuine, but mafuyu can feel something different when she hears shinonome mama say this. when she watches ena and akito bicker, she notes that even though they're arguing, there's a warmth at the dinner table that is absent from her own.

(it shouldn't be any different from my house, but something is different. but... what is it?)

and here comes the confession: mafuyu has voiced out her opinion before, like ena wants her to, but it didn't work. asahina mama, again, does not listen to mafuyu.

i told my mom that i wanted to do music, but she told me... "make sure you don't regret it in the future". i'm sure she's worried about me, so i...

mafuyu's if i be patient now and study for my exams, when i become a university student, i might be able to do music again breaks my heart because even if asahina mama really did allow and encourage mafuyu to do music after getting into medical school, it doesn't change that mafuyu will be unhappy.

because mafuyu doesn't want to be a doctor, like asahina mama wants. she wants to be a nurse, and that's been her dream since she was young. if she obeys her mother and goes into medicine, it'll be hard to back out. that is not where her happiness lies.

and either way, i'm not sure if mafuyu would have been able to endure another year under her mother's control if she quit music. she's barely holding it together as it is (both before she was open with niigo and now when they're all working to help her). music is her only escape, her only outlet and happiness. not only that, it's something she does with her precious friends. without that, ena knows, mafuyu would only go back to being who she was in main story. that girl who had given up on wanting to be saved and now only wishes to disappear.

i draw because i want to, because i want to believe my happiness lies beyond that. ...(i don't understand. i know your parents are important, but why won't you face what you want to do?)

ena finds her happiness in art. even though art is also a source of her pain, she continues drawing because that is where her happiness lies. she knows that mafuyu, too, has something she wants to do. something that her mother is trying to dissuade her from. and mafuyu simply gives in, not even fully realising how she is only sinking deeper into despair.

being told "it's for your sake", having your parents' thoughts pushed onto you- would i have also... turned out like mafuyu?

this. this is the part of wish that shows exactly how far ena and mafuyu's relationship has come since main story. back then, ena couldn't understand mafuyu's feelings: mafuyu is admired, talented, and has expectations placed upon her. ena has none of these, so she can't comprehend why mafuyu would want to disappear like she does.

but here, she starts to understand the pain that was driving mafuyu back then, the same pain mafuyu will be in if ena doesn't do something now.

in ena's side story, she thinks about this a little more. she comes to the conclusion that she if it were her, because she is stubborn, she would've kept drawing even if shinei told her to quit. that's another key difference between the two! ena is rebellious and strong-willed and even though it'd hurt her, she would never stop trying to pursue her happiness. she even acknowledges that despite the hurt shinei's words caused, he never told her outright to stop drawing. i would argue it was implied and hurt as much as if he did but ena4 doesn't seem to agree with me... i don't like that story anyways.

ena is so happy when mafuyu finally admits that what she truly wants, disregarding her parents' wishes, is to keep creating music with niigo. look at how soft she is! it makes her so happy to hear that this truly is something mafuyu wants to do, and that she's able to say it out loud.

in that case, i'll help too. as a niigo member. first, as practice, why don't you go all out and do what you want for today, at least?

this expression!!! mafuyu is so into her lyric writing because even though she doesn't fully know it, this is what she loves. this is what she is happiest doing: creating songs with her friends. even ena is shocked that mafuyu can make such a face.

again, ena starts to understand mafuyu more. expressing her true feelings and desires like that IS a huge step for mafuyu, even if she's only expressing them to ena, who... already knows this.

i was just thinking, that creating music is important to you.

look at my baby. so much determination in her eyes. she has learned so much from her girlfriend.

and that, that is the face ena wants to draw. those are the feelings she wants to convey in her assignment, "hatching". mafuyu working seriously on what she wants to do, not unlike ena herself. mafuyu helps her draw feelings she wasn't able to previously, simply by being herself.

(...so mafuyu can make that sort of expression. even though i thought she would make a bored face no matter what she does. it's just as i thought - what she said earlier, "i want to create music with everyone", might be related to it. it's not because someone told her to. it's because mafuyu herself thought that she wants to.)

so that's how ena sees me...

that, my dear mafuyu, is homosexuality. you are gay. for ena.

again, ena's expression is just so Soft. moment of appreciation for enamafu.

AND MAFUYU TOO!!!! this exchange of looks makes me feel like i need to be sedated good fucking lord THERE'S SO MUCH LOVE IN THOSE GAZES. mafuyu's heart feels warm because ena has been able to help her confront these feelings of hers and give her temporary peace at a low moment, and ena, kindhearted ena, is glad she's able to help mafuyu.

ena doesn't know if she's right in how she sees mafuyu, but she tries her best to capture mafuyu's willpower. in hopes that one day, mafuyu will break out of her shell with her own strength, hatching into the vast world, as someone who is more like asahina mafuyu.

[obsidianpen]

Tell me Tom is bad at feelings without telling me.... Loved your new B&G chapter, kinda knew that we'd have to see the Dark Lord version of Tommy sometime soon, but didn't think it would be THAT soon. I want my fluff back.

Anywho - kinda funny that he's all in Hermione's face about being her 'Master' when he's quite literally a slave to that WAP. I think Hermione needs to put him in his place ASAP. Here's hoping that whatever they see in the vision really shows just how 'worthy' she is of being his equal.

I am also honestly jealous of all the people that are able to fantasise about the ending - I honestly have no idea and I'm loving it.

My only (silly) question is - will the lines ever stop spreading? It's clear that they are literally everywhere (thanks Tom), but surely they are running out of space to spread?

Also - the hand shaped mark on Tom's chest that Hermione did - are they somehow connected? Sorry I know that's 2 question.

Feel free to ignore them if they are too spoilery! x0x0x

okay I’m glad someone else sees this too haha! Yeah, so not to get to into revealing toms inner turmoil (if you don’t like knowing what’s going on in his head stop reading this),

but I’m totally about to ramble big time because I think a lot of people are missing this. Lots of comments like ‘he’s such an asshole!! How dare he!!!’ Well. Toms definitely spinning. And can you blame the guy? He went from getting a bouquet of symbolic wildflowers from hermione that was even sweeter than she realized (he often gave flowers to his clients as a shop boy, and he even stole some for her accidentally - never imagined once in his life that he’d ever get any - yes because he’s a guy but also because he has a lot of hang ups, he is not used to gifts, he gives things to manipulate and he takes the things he wants), and after deciphering all that realizing (even if he wouldn’t say as much) that he’s fucking down so bad for this witch, fully enamored, must keep. And THEN she’s sick and THEN she doesn’t take his nice ‘take a nap, love’ potion and THEN she gets kidnapped by Dumbledore and the freaking MACUSA and THEN he’s pleading with freaking Hepzibah like some lovesick peasant for help and THEN, when he’s knee deep in imperious curses and dark marks and internationally kidnapping metamorphagi bartenders, THEN, while retrieving her wand from the Ministry despite how tricky that is (like a true gentleman)… he finds out this bitch stole his ring. Which means she knew about his horcrux (well it was horcruxes but he didn’t know that then poor lamb) and in his mind, the only reason anyone would go after a horcrux would be to destroy it. Tom had to process a lot, still had to save her because he can’t have this seer who knows all about him in Dumbledore’s clutches, had to short term delude himself into pretending everything is totally fine until he gets her out, that whole grand escape thing happens, and THEN she wants to give him a blowjob??? Which he’s never trusted anyone to do, let alone this witch he’s obsessed with who destroyed his SOUL??? Who at this point he thinks is a world class psychopath, btw - but he lets it happen because even in his most crazed moments, he’s actually exactly what you said. And he knows it deep down, but can’t accept it, so yeah, he’s doing the whole ‘have to reassert my dark lord dominance’ thing, and while a lot of people reading seemed really hung up on him being a manipulative asshole (rightfully so, this is him), there was also a lot of pretty blatant worship in that chapter too (and in case this has also escaped the general notice, Tom is actually obsessed with pleasing her)

[aspens-dragons]

hi aspen here. ok rotumblr we (she life on my science till i project gc) need your guidance. the "i" in the following story is clearly not me. because i dont have a girlfriend. the pre-hangout facetime is going great chat. so far kekoa's the only one here with any kind of game, falinks has been to the post office seven times in the past two days, skyler is fucking vitamin d deficient despite living in alola her whole life, midori is out here bullying infant oshawott pups and ieke got fucking stopped at customs cause he brought a 4 lb tub of kimchi with him (???????)

anyway midori aita below

"aita for calling my girlfriend's oshawott kind of fugly

i (m16) am a student of blueberry academy; i'm from the alola region, so there a lot of pokemon at bba that i don't see very frequently, and this is awesome most of the time! recently, my girlfriend's (f15) samurott gave birth to an oshawott, which i have been VERY enthusiastic about, and im very prepared to be an active part of this oshawott's life. i did a lot of research about caring for the pups but the first time i ever actually saw a newborn oshawott was when her samurott gave birth. (my friends are clowning on me because apparently "bruh you couldn't have done that much research on the fuckin oshawott if you dont know what its supposed to look like") because i didn't know what newborn oshawotts are supposed to look like, i didn't realize they're just built that small and wrinkly, so when i saw the pup for the first time i thought it was diseased, and when my girlfriend corrected and explained to me that they're supposed to look like that, i said (aspen note: CHAT I CANNOT MAKE THIS NEXT PART UP.)

"oh so they're just fugly, sick! in a kinda cute way i guess"

my gf became very upset and told me that i was being mean and that i needed to think about how i'm going to act around the oshawott pup if i want to be part of it's life, and all my friends (m15, m16, m16, f17, m17) (aspen note: RIGHTFULLY SO) are making fun of me and saying she's too good for me because they would've dumped my ass on the spot, but i don't think i did anything wrong. AITA?"

[emaistome]

Through the years, the A song of Ice and Fire Universe has blessed us with amazing, and nuanced characters. But there are some of them who are purely evil, and I’m referring to characters like Euron Greyjoy, Geoffrey Lannister and Ramsey Bolton. Our question for today is where does Aegon II from HOTD stands in between them all?

Aegon is the first son of King Viserys Targaryen by his second wife, Alicent Hightower. From the day he was born, everyone expected him to be name heir, but his father kept his older sister, the princess Rhaenyra Targaryen the heir to the Iron throne, despite the Andal Tradition and the precedent established by the Great Council of 101, stating that the succession would follow absolute male primogeniture.

He was neglected by his father, who was sick at the time and didn’t really love or care about his four children with Alicent. And his mother was physically abusive, meaning that she used to slap him when he did wrong things. Aegon did a lot of wrong things. Like raping servants, drinking, and watching children fight in the pits of Flea Bottom. He is also aware that he is not loved by his parents, which is partially true and says that he tries a lot to make them feel proud of him but it never works. The people around him forced him to usurp the throne, which was rightfully his sister’s.

I think that Aegon is a badly written character simply because the writers want to make us feel bad for him while simultaneously presenting him as pure evil, or at least they do very little nuance him as a character. Aegon does unarguably the worst things someone could do in the first season of the show, we are not told why he did, and there’s no balance between some good things that he may have done and all the disgusting things he does. He doesn’t have any goal that might make people feel interested about the things he might do in the future. Even the things he says that he tries to do to please his parents are not shown.

In fact when he says all that, it feels more like gaslighting because the discussion was not about him being lazy, or not trying hard enough, it was about him raping a young girl, but he tried to turn the discussion about this totally unrelated subject. Even if we consider what he says about trying hard, the context of the discussion just proves that he was lying. Because it’s not very difficult to not rape the maids in the castle, and just go to a brothel, like he does all the time. On top of that he’s the last person to wake up in the castle, even the little children that he has, have already woken up, and there’s an important meeting that he doesn’t even know about.

It’s not even the worst thing that he does; personally, I think that watching children fight to death is worse. And there’s no build up to it, again we just have accept that he does just like watching children die. He is objectively evil, with no redeemable quality. I know his parents didn’t like him but it is not written in a way, that it could explain why he is the way he is, or at least the writers failed to frame it that way, especially considering that he’s a prince who was raised and pampered in a castle.

As a character he makes me think of a failed male version of Pearl. They have a lot in common:

• Their very religious and conservative mother;

• The sick father;

• The need to leave the place that they live in;

• The fact that they seem to be born evil, even though only Pearl recognizes it.

The first difference is that the movie was about Pearl, her life and her feelings, while Aegon had little screen time in a show that discusses mainly the struggles of women in a feudal and patriarchal setting, and he iss a rapist who doesn’t face the consequences of his crimes because the system protects him. He’s the antagonist.

Second of all, Pearl has all the things that might make you sympathize with a villain, she does good things by taking care of her sick father and working hardly in her family’s farm. On the other side Aegon seems so lazy, and is always bored, he does wrong things and it’s all he does. We can’t feel bad that his parents don’t love him, because the bar is literally in hell, he still can’t touch it.

Pearl has goals, she wants to become famous and leave the place she leaves in, but Aegon doesn’t have any goal, any purpose, he wants to leave his family but it’s mainly to avoid doing anything serious in his life, while his family might die if they don’t take the throne for themselves, and crown him.

Lastly Pearl does arguably the worst things between them two, she kills all her family but every death has an emotional weight to them.

• She kills her mother because she wanted her to feel as bad as she made her feel about herself;

• Pearl kills her father because she couldn’t leave him all alone in the house, and because she loves him;

• She kills the projectionist because he lied to her, and wanted to abandon her;

• And she kills Mitsy because she thinks that Mitsy is privileged by being younger and blonde, and got the role she wanted.

But Aegon does horrible things just because he finds pleasure in doing them. He doesn’t draw any emotion from the public, outside of disgust and outrage.

In the end, Aegon as a character is like an empty shell. He has nothing to appreciate, and this characterization will have an impact on things that he will do in the future, or how he will react to events like Blood and Cheese. How him going mad after this event will make sense if he never cared in the first place?

In Fire and blood, his characterization was more alike to that of Robert, minus the good humor, but in House of the Dragon, he seems to be an annoying, and whiny type of Geoffrey.

However I still think that Aegon plays some roles in the show quite perfectly:

• Being the embodiment of everything wrong with the feudal system;

• Being a foil to his brother, who thought that he was much better than him but won’t get the throne, because Aegon was the older brother;

• Serves in the development of characters around him especially Alicent who still loves him despite his very bad actions.

His biggest enemy was the time jump, because the writers seriously want us to believe that all his troubles come from his relationship with his parents when he was younger. But the only time we saw him as a child he was still being loved by his father and mother, so it doesn’t seem like they did anything wrong to him. When he grows old Aegon looks like he has Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). And for this part I’m gonna extrapolate a lot from what is presented in the show and make a lot of assumptions, because there is little source material to work with

People with BPD, have an unstable image of themselves, difficulties to regulate their emotions, causing an increase in impulsivity, they are thus subjects to intense mood swings, feelings of emptiness and fear of abandonment. Generally important factors in the development of this disorder are from bad parenting styles.

His upbringing seems more that of a quiet type of BPD as there are four types, the impulsive, the petulant, the self-destructive and the quiet. But I digress. The quiet type of BPD is quite different from the others. As the quiet BPD are often overly dependent to their caretakers and in Aegon’s case this caretaker is his mother, Alicent. It is mainly small details that show his dependence to her, like the fact that when they all grow up, he’s the only one to wear green, the color they all wore when they were children, Alicent’s color. For Vaemond’s petition Haleana wore a golden dress and Aemond was dressed in black. But he was wearing green as if he was still dependant on her. In addition at the age of twenty she was waking his up, when everyone had already awoken by themselves. And it may not seem relevant but a lot of times, commentators who try to understand him talk about him as if he was some kind of teenager.

The lack of identity is linked to his position as the only first born son, in his period to not inherit their father’s position. From a societal point of view, if he’s not his father’s heir, what is he going to be? And there is no one to help him find another purpose. His father is often lost in poppy dreams and even when he is not, he cares more about Rhaenyra’s children than his own. On the other side his mother believes that he is going to be king but not because he is deserving of anything or because she loves him, but because she believes that he is going to die if he doesn’t. There has never been anyone around him interested in him as a person enough to show love or appreciation. I mean, they were preparing a coup in order to put him on the Iron Throne and he wasn’t even consentant, he wasn’t event present.

The caretakers also don’t encourage autonomy and erase the child’s sense of self efficacy; the child’s needs are neglected in favor of those of the caretakers. We saw Aegon being belittled by Alicent when he was fourteen, and at the same time she was forcing kingship onto him, and forced him to mary his sister, while all he ever needed was love and appreciation from his parents. He even knows that he is not suited, and doesn’t deserve anything, it’s probably the reason why he wants to leave, and maybe he thinks that everyone’s life would have been better if he wasn’t there.

People with this type of BPD are often somber, moody, quiet, clingy, and very angry on the inside. This is not at all how I would describe book Aegon, who is more impulsive, but it goes quite well for Aegon in the show.

People with BPD often experience feelings of emptiness, and often exhibit very hardcore behaviors in order to fill the void. They are always in search of pleasure, and adrenalin. And for Aegon it is blatant that even when he was only a teenager, he went farer than other children, like masturbating in front of a window, developing drinking habits and using sextoys (dildos). The more time passes the farer he goes, he drinks more, and rapes servants and watches children fight to death, all to fill the void left by the absence of his identity. These are traits that are most likely to be found in a self-destructive Borderline person. They come from quite explosive environments, and have a lot of repressed feelings, mostly anger from never getting their needs met. And it often creates anxiety and depression. This type is like the other, they are simply vacillating, between obedience and recklessness, impulsivity and indecisiveness. And I think that we will get more

In conclusion, out of all four of Alicent’s children Aegon is possibly the one who resembles her the most. Anyone barely shows love or interest towards them for who they are, they are both forced to marry people they don’t like and take responsibility for things that they don’t want. The biggest difference is that by being a man, and a prince, Aegon is allowed to fill the void in him as he wants, because he still enjoys the highest of the privileges. While on the other side Alicent was a woman, and daughter to a second son, who had a name, but no land, and had to cling to other people and be more careful in order to stay relevant. I think that Aegon is a little hill made of suppressed needs and emptiness that come back as anger, self loathing, and an insatiable need of pleasure. Although it can appear to work it doesn’t, because his characterization is like a scenario where Georges R.R. Martin started Tyrion’s, story with all the things that he did in the later book, without all the build up to it. The cracks will inevitably appear in s2 when he will have to show more emotions, like care for his family, while he lets his bastards in the pits, and doesn’t care about his wife and children. The only interesting things about him are his relationships with Alicent and Aemond.

[bebx]

tw: abuse, victim-blaming, the Johnny / Amber situation

I told myself I wasn’t going to talk about this again. Johnny has moved on and has left that chapter of his life behind and is glowing and healing. and I am so happy, so so beyond proud of him.

so I’m sorry for not being able to help it and having to bring this up again, because not only is it frustrating but it’s also very very triggering to see some people still use those inappropriate texts Johnny sent to his friend, Paul Bettany, in private, to try to paint him as this bad guy they so desperately want him to be. where in those texts he said inappropriate things about her, because he was venting to a friend after he’s been mentally and physically abused by her for years. but hey, since Johnny is a man, it’s oh so terrifying that he said mean things about his own abuser, who happens to be a woman. and therefore these texts alone must mean he was the “bad guy” in their relationship, because he said terrible things about her after he’s been mentally and physically abused for years, and it must mean she was this poor victim even if there’s solid evidence of her having mentally and physically abused him, one of which is her admitting, in her own voice, to having started physical fights, abusing him, calling him a baby when he chose to peacefully walk away instead of fighting with her, and daring him to tell the world that he, a man, was a victim too of domestic violence and see how many people believe or side with him, those were caught on tape in her own voice. let’s not forget those CCTV footages, the police / medical records and dozens of other eyewitnesses who confirmed she was the abuser, not Johnny. or the fact that she was the one who was previously arrested for domestic violence against her at-that-time girlfriend. or the fact she lied and was exposed when she said she’d donated money to sick children (literally I don’t care what she does with her money. she has the rights to keep those money, since it’s hers, and to not donate anything, it’s the fact she lied and literally used dying children as a tool to make herself look good — by saying she’d donated it all when it fact she did not donate anything and was later exposed for it — that disgusts me).

but because Johnny is a man, it’s so vile that he would say terrible things about his own female abuser in private text messages, when he was venting to a friend, because she was abusing him.

look at those tweets from our abuse apologist, Caitlin

I must say at least the ratio Caitlin has been receiving nonstop (these are only some of them) quite gives me hope in humanity. but I truly hope they learn and educate themself because, god forbid, if they were to find themself in an abusive relationship with someone (and I truly hope they never have to go through that) and were to say messed up things about their own abuser, I genuinely hope no one invalidates their being a victim because they said messed up things about their abuser behind said abuser’s back.

again, this will most likely be the last time I talk about this. so if you sent me something in my inbox, whether it’s to agree with me or to tell me to unalive myself (if you’re one of those abuse apologists who cannot except the fact that women can be abusers and men can be victims and that abuse has no gender) I’d have to respectfully ignore, and move on with my life. because I’m not looking forward to having any back and forth conversation regarding this topic again. Johnny has moved on. it’s over. he rightfully won.

last but not least, I’m happy that Johnny got his justice and is healing, living his best life. I am beyond proud of him for how strong he is and how far he’s come. that man is my strength and my hero.

[stilldancewithyou]

I'm Sorry, but why be team Conrad means that you can't have some grace for Jeremiah? Belly made a mess and it's okay to admit. She kissed Jere three times, asked him for going to the ball. They were hearing towards something. He found out his mom hás cancer and is probably dying the night before and he can have a moment? People act like he has no right to have feelings while excusing Conrad. Belly kissed two brothers in three days. Comparing with Cam's situation makes no sense. Cam mom's isn't dying and he doesn't have years of friendship and complicated feelings with Belly than Jere has. Also, in the begining of the Second book Jeremiah is rightfully mad at Belly, who supposed to be his best friend, for abandoning him while his mother was dying because she (as always) had drama with Contas. It's not about him not linking she was there for Conrad. Also, I hope Jenny drop the ridicolous "cheating" storyline because It was a cheap mechanism to get Belly and Conrad toghether without make them look bad because they had tears to sort out their relationship and Belly had a serious relationship with Conrad's brother. Also, If Jenny wanted keep the cheating storyline she shouldn't have made Jeremiah bisexual and perpetuate a disgusting steryotype. Conrad and Belly should be able to be toghether without destroy Jeremiah character, Jenny just need to be Brave and not take the easy, boring road.

I think you must be new here or you have only read a select few of my posts because I know I have said before that all of the characters deserve empathy and grace. All of the kids are messy and make dumb mistakes and hurt each other, but given what they are all going through, it's understandable. Losing Susannah was hard on all of them. For Jeremiah and Conrad because it's their mother, but also for Steven and Belly, since they also love Susannah and she is a bonus mom/an aunt to them. And it's also even harder to go through all of that at their age AND when it's the first death of someone you love you've ever had to deal with (which it is for all of them). I lost a very close family member (before I ever read the books) and when I tell you I felt all of their pain through all of the books...I feel for these kids, I really do.

It seems like we may be misunderstanding each other a little here...I assume you are responding to the most recent asks I answered and I think you are taking those responses out of context. I was talking specifically about the season 2 trailer and the sneak peek of Belly talking to Jeremiah about her and Conrad. And I will stand by what I said before- I don't think there is any excuse to talk to someone that way (and to yell at her that line about his mom dying. Belly already knew, was also hurting about it, and clearly felt like shit for what she was doing to him). In my personal opinion, you can explain someone's behavior, but nothing excuses it. In the end, we are all responsible for our own actions and the things we say. And yes, I will agree everything Jeremiah was going through at that moment was a lot and he was in pain, and Belly broke his heart on top of everything with Susannah. And that explains why he reacted that way, but it doesn't excuse his behavior. He knew it wasn't right to yell at her like that, but he wanted to make her feel like shit in that moment so he didn't care. Also, I was talking about a specific line She says in the trailer, "I was so focused on being there for Conrad, and I should've been there for you too" which is heard after Jere yells "We hooked up and then you hooked up with my brother!" and while I think his feelings are valid, Conrad also deserved to have Belly be there for him when he really, really needed her, and she shouldn't have to feel bad for that. I could be interpreting this wrong, but the way she said it made it sound like she was talking about when she and Conrad were dating and Susannah was sick, it wasn't that there was drama with him or they were fighting, she was just comforting her boyfriend Conrad and she put all of her energy into Conrad. It's an impossible situation to navigate, and no matter what she did someone would have been hurt. I think also in the 2nd book and season 2, she feels weird talking to Jeremiah after everything because he got all weird and upset and we know in the show he yelled at her that they're no longer friends. Yeah, Belly shouldn't have bounced between the brothers like that and she definitely hurt Jere, but Jere also made his own bed. In the books, she actually rejects Jeremiah in book 1 when he confesses his feelings and then he acts kinda weird and jealous at the end. There this little bit at the very end of book 1 after she kisses Conrad where Belly, Jere and Con are swimming in the pool together and Conrad flirts with Belly and touches her hair (or something along those lines) and Belly sees Jere looking at them all weird and jealous and it makes her feel weird and bad because she knows she's hurting him. It wasn't right that she stopped talking to Jere and didn't give him support when Susannah was dying, but I think she just didn't know if he even wanted to speak to her (it's not like he ever called her) and she felt like he was mad at her (which he is).

I think it's worth mentioning that when Belly chose Jeremiah for the deb ball, Conrad told her she made the right choice even though he was hurt and really wanted it to be him. He also never made her feel bad for choosing Jeremiah in book 2, never at any point said anything to her about her wanting to be with Jeremiah, he never even got angry at her for kissing Jeremiah or for ultimately choosing Jere (and I know people are going to say that was different bc Conrad told Jeremiah he could have her, but in the end it was up to Belly, and she could have picked Conrad, but she didn't) and in the 3rd book he didn't say anything rude or angry to her even when he found out about the engagement, he only got upset at the end when he found out that Jeremiah had cheated on her and she was okay with it (and btw, that's one big reason the cheating thing is important to begin with. it's the thing that makes Conrad admit his feelings). But Jeremiah makes her feel like shit for liking Conrad and wanting to be with him, and then he's a jerk to Conrad (his own brother!) and goes out of his way to rub the fact that Belly picked him in Conrad's face.

I don't think anything I say will change your mind so I won't waste much more energy on explaining this, but the cheating was important and it was basically the center of the book 3 storyline. I LOVED the 3rd book and from the time I first read it I could imagine how well it would play out on screen and the whole insane wedding thing would make such good material for a show. I truly do not understand how people are so against it. It's like a soap opera. And with these actors it will AMAZING. Also Conrad's POV is the best.

I don't understand why everyone is coming at me about the cheating thing. Idk what y'all want me to say or why you're all so mad about it, I literally do not get it. I'm sorry I want the show to follow the books I guess? I didn't think that was such a crazy outlandish thing to say. I also would strongly advise you to enjoy season 2 and then take all the time between s2 and when s3 comes out to prepare yourselves, because the show is already following the books so closely that I feel pretty confident saying s3 will follow the books as well, Jeremiah will probably "cheat" and then propose to Belly and we will get to see them planning the wedding all summer with help from Taylor and Belly's new college friends. Also please remember that I didn't write the book.

[paleneckauthorcowboy]

This is the next fic in the timeline, c!Kestin is in a new invirment and he's not doing great. TW!! Discussion of a toxic relationship, HABIT just being HABIT, brief implication of death.

I'm alive, I don't know how or why but I am. It's been a few weeks since I woke up here in New Jersey. I was found in the middle of the woods by a kind man, his name is Evan. He brought me back to his place, which is where I am staying now. Evan said that I could stay as long as I need, at least until I can get back up on my feet.

He's a total sweetheart; I mean, he checks up on me a lot and asks me about my day. He's one of the kindest men I've ever met, not to mention that he's kind of a goofball. He seems to go out of his way to try and make me laugh. It just feels like I could talk to him for hours and never get tired of it. 

He seemed very curious about my past, rightfully so; I mean I am technically just some guy that he found passed out in the middle of the woods. Despite all of his questions about my life before, I always just gave generic answers, never daring to go into any detail, out of fear that if he knew that he'd just think I was crazy and make me leave. But, things can change so fast; whether I like it or not.

I had been feeling pretty awful almost all day, not due to anything Evan had done. I just couldn't get out of my own head and just kept thinking about the past. I could get HIM out of my mind, the him in question being Alex. My now Ex-fiance, it hurt a lot to look back on his actions with my rose colored glasses removed, I could see every little thing I missed. Did he truly love me or was what he did just a clever ploy to stop further infection of the operator sickness? Would he have actually killed me if I hadn't done it myself? 

I'm fairly certain that anyone within a 12 mile radius could tell that I was upset, especially Evan or at least who I thought was Evan. He playfully nudged me, trying to get me to look at him or look at something that he was doing. "Evan... please I'm really tired, so could you please stop it." I spoke in a slightly serious tone, as much as I love his antics; I just don't have the energy for it right now. 

I feel his fingers on my cheeks and his palm under my chin, I tense very noticeably at the sudden touch but do nothing. I then feel him abruptly squeeze my face and yank it towards him, essentially forcing me to look at him. "I'm not Evan... also, don't you think it's a bit rude to lie, sweetheart?"  He asked what felt like a condescending tone, or like he was trying to scare me. Unfortunately, panic responded before I could think. I pushed him off of me with a rough shove. He fell off of the couch with a loud thud.

I felt instant regret as my mind raced, "Oh my gosh... I'm so- I didn't- sorry I just- I'm sorry.." I couldn't seem to string together a fully comprehensive sentence, my own distress causing anything I say to come out faster than my brain could process. I was trying to reach out for him, but I only got about half way until I pulled back; planting my hands into my lap, as if to stop myself from causing any additional damage. 

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that... I just- didn't think before I acted." I did my best to explain, I felt my hands shaking, but I wasn't scared of him hurting me, I could handle that. What I'm really scared of is him hating me or even just simply being mad at me. "I'm sorry.." I apologized again, my throat burned as I swallowed hard; doing everything in my power to not let the hot tears pricking at the corners of my eyes fall. "Woah, come on don't get you boxers in a bunch. It's fine, I'm not mad." He broke the awkward silence, trying to lighten the mood.

"Okay, I'm sorr-'' before I could finish my sentence he put his finger up to my mouth and shushed me. "Hun, you apologize way too much." He smirked at me, although his tone sounded a little bit annoyed. When he called me hun, it almost made my heart skip a beat, but at the same time it... hurt. "Please don't call me 'hun', I only really let people I'm close to call me pet names." I very gently pushed his hand away, looking him in the eyes with a semi serious look. 'His eyes are really pretty.' I thought to myself. 

Then I internally panicked at 'no no fuck why?' Do I like him? I think I do but I'm not sure. I looked away from him, focusing my gaze on the floor. "Well, then we need to get to know each other and get close. I'm Habit, I'm the demon who possesses your little boyfriend, and you don't need to introduce yourself, I already know who you are." He replied still with that smirk on his face, he leaned in close to me. I instinctively lean back and put my hands up, ready to push him back again.

"What- he not my boyfriend! We're not- I mean that's not to say I don't like him- like he's cute- I mean... uhh I don't know, I just know we're not dating!" I felt my stomach tighten, words once again fell out of my mouth before I really thought about what I was saying. "What I'm hearing is that you like him. Why not just go for it?" Habit asked, leaning in closer. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back, just hard enough for him to get that I was uncomfortable.

"Because- I don't know I'm just... not ready to enter another relationship." I didn't even realize what I said until I heard Habit chuckle. "Another relationship? What? did you just have a bad breakup?" He seemed just be joking around but it was enough to push me over the edge. The dam broke and I felt warm tears stain my cheeks. He stopped laughing, just staring at me with a look that said 'oh shit, I didn't mean to do that.' 

"Oh, I'll take that as a yes. Uh, sorry. Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, awkwardly patting my shoulder. I just broke, I couldn't hide how I felt, or the things that I went through anymore. "I just got out of a pretty unhealthy relationship just before Evan found me.. it wasn't always bad. It was just the time around the end of the relationship that was... not great." I spoke crossing my arms over my chest, Habit looked at me, waiting for me to continue. 

"He... my Ex-fiance... was kind of extremely manipulative and ended up isolating me from any other support system other than him... and then he kind of walked away for a bit, leaving me completely isolated. He also kind of was insane..." I explained Habit didn't look happy, understandably so. "So, he cut you off from everyone you loved and just left you alone? He sounds like a real piece of shit." He said through gritted teeth. I just looked down. "Yeah, I guess. He wasn't alway like that though, he used to be kind of sweet." I mumbled to myself, Habit shook his head. 

"The reason I can't just 'go for it' is because I know that I'm not over my ex, it wouldn't be right to start a new relationship when I'm still thinking of someone else. I'd only possibly hurt him and myself in the process." I explained further, Habit nodded. "That's understandable." He shrugs and stands up before plopping back down on the couch. "I... I do like him. I just need time to process what I feel and what I've gone through before I try to do anything." I got up and sat on the couch as well. Calming myself down.

 "I understand that and so does he. We are more than willing to wait for you for as long is needed. I promise you." He put a hand on my shoulder and I tensed up, he noticed almost immediately and tried to retract his hand. I grabbed it and gave it a nice squeeze. "Thank you, I don't think you understand how much that means to me." He squeezed my hand back, "my pleasure." We just sat there holding each other's hand for a little while.

They kept true to their promise and stayed right by my side for my entire journey of healing. And, when I was finally ready. I asked both Evan and Habit out, but that's a story for another day. For now I'll just enjoy my own version of happily ever after.

[nyxknocks]

This was a bland movie. Typically I try to steer clear of the synopsis for these films so I don't get influenced by anything else, but I skimmed this one and even with that it is so... vague. Nothing felt particularly cohesive throughout this film to me. It fits the more slice of life type of cut of just. Randomness. But it's also not random? The synopsis fit because this was such a long (feeling) movie fully of nothing.

Everyone hates Okin (?) for being a moneylender/loan shark type thing which like, rightfully so. She is insufferable in this movie too, but the other's don't seem much... better? Everyone is flawed which is realistic I suppose. It seems with Okin and Otomi (I think?) both seem to hate the fact they're aging as both of unsaid references to it. (Like the literal mirror scene with Otomi and her daughter. Youth vs aging. Then Okin's scene with the covered mirror where her fake smile falls). The sick one (Tamae?) has a rough relationship with her son because of the dad dying (And what's up with her making her son call her 'sister'?????? Can you say "emotional incest"). The other one is. I have no idea. Just there. Trying to have a kid I guess. You go girl.

While I don't like Okin by any means, I understand aspects of her character fairly well. They show her extremely securing her home at night to sleep, which I think tells a lot about her character. They make it a joke to say she hates men (and like.. everything under the sun apparently) but she was almost killed? Why does everyone gloss over that? The dude comes around too and everyone tells him to go see her!!!! What!!! The fuck!!! He tried to murder her?! And then they're implying that he deserves compensation for it because he went to jail and can't get a job now? I'm so confused. Like, y'all hate her, I get that, but did you hate her before or after the attempted murder. They're haters fr.

Also showing up to ask for money..... the audacity. Then her "great love" doing the same??? Diabolical. Whatever she did in her past life clearly came for her in this one because damn.

I truly don't see how this film is so highly regarded. Granted, I am extremely tired watching it and maybe I'm missing something? But this was a slogfest. None of these characters were interesting. It felt like just 4 days of catty old women being stingy and hateful. Like I said, I think part of Okin's is justifiable to an extent. She was almost killed. But damn.

The only credit I can give this movie is the very small and subtle nods to Okin's trauma. Also, deaf representation! Hate how they interacted with her though. I absolutely hated the sudden pivot to internal monologuing, too, because I feel like this movie did fairly decent with showing things without having to explicitly state it (the mirror, the dude's leg shaking before he got trashed to beg for money, etc). Definitely gonna read other posts and can't wait for the discussion in class because what.

What.

[misspickman]

curious about all of them but ESPECIALLY theory: existence is a mirror 👀

oh ive been wrestling with this one for a while and probably will continue to, its a tim's mental issues fic bc ive seen a lot of stuff about him being depressed/passively or actively suicidal but none of it really sat right with me so im trying to figure out how i think this would manifest with the character, but its tim and hes difficult. much to think about. so unfortunately this wip is a mess and im not working on it actively bc its so hard to get the vibes right and its frustrating. anyway heres a bit

“Don't you have anything better to do,” Leslie asks—complains—as she digs out a bullet out of his shoulder on a beautiful Friday night, “than run around clobbering people all night?” 

“Crime doesn't sleep.” 

“No, but you should. And you are not the only one for this job, are you?” she points out. Rightfully. Tim still feels unnecessarily defensive and just barely stops himself from trying to prove to her how needed he is out there, actually. “You're too young for this to be the only thing you do.”

That takes him aback. This is the sort of conversation that Leslie usually unleashes on Bruce. It feels… painfully unearned to be getting it in his place. 

He doesn't want to be a part of this discussion. He'll leave that to Bruce, Leslie and Alfred to ponder over, and he can go back to his work as soon as Leslie's done wrapping up his shoulder. The only reason he's here and not doing it in front of his bathroom mirror anyway is because Helena decided to play protective and basically dumped him in front of Leslie's door, and would not let him leave even if he tried. 

It's really not that serious. It's just a shoulder. 

“With all due respect, Leslie—” 

“Tim,” she cuts him off, taking none of it, “with all due respect, you are twenty one and sitting in my clinic with a bullet wound on a Friday night. And I know you're out there every night. Do you even socialize?” 

Tim bristles. It's embarrassing, and makes him feel just as young as she's treating him. “That's none of your business.” 

It doesn't feel good, being rude to Leslie, but it's an instinctive reaction. Tim is well sick and tired of people trying to tell him how to live his life. 

He thinks back on his last attempt to talk to a person his age who isn't involved in any of his vigilante life. He even likes Buzz, he wouldn't mind reconnecting with him, which is what he assumes the sudden invitation was about, but there's nothing like a miserable social interaction where you can't think of a single non-incriminating thing to say to drive home just how unadjusted you are to having a civilian life. 

It had been easier before, back when he had dad and Dana to keep happy with lies, and was basically forced to keep a normal life. Scratch that, it wasn't easier; he agonized over keeping secrets every waking second, he kept two messy lives and never seemed to make enough time for either of them, but it did mean he had some semblance of a normal life. He hadn't thought of it that way back then, but he can see it now. There's none of that left. 

Now, he has more than enough time to dedicate himself to being Red Robin instead of Tim Drake. He thinks he's been doing a pretty good job of it—except, nobody else seems to share his opinion. 

“You'll run yourself ragged until there's nothing left but the cowl,” she says, and Tim has an inkling that this is far from the first time she's said those words.

(title from this poem bc u know. vibes)

[emocheol]

how seventeen realized you were ‘the one’

seungcheol

when you stayed up all night for him.

seungcheol had texted you and told you to go to sleep hours ago, knowing that he was going to be home late.

but you knew that he had a rough and busy day and you wanted to unwind with him, even if you were on the brink of falling asleep.

he was even later than you both expected, but you were resilient in staying awake. you drank some coffee and moved around the house, making sure you didn’t accidentally fall asleep.

he finally walked into your apartment and was greeted with your sleepy, but still smiling, face.

when you welcomed him home with open arms after he had the worst day ever, he knew that you were it for him.

jeonghan

when you understood his personality.

jeonghan wasn’t a people pleaser by any means. which made him quite blunt.

some people said that his personality was off-putting or that he should have more of a filter.

but you never said that to him.

from the moment you two met you fit like two pieces of a puzzle, he got you and you got him.

when he said something that wasn’t received well he would always look across the room and would see you smiling back at him, at least you got him.

he knew in moments like those that you were absolutely made for him.

joshua

when you met his mother.

when joshua couldn’t make it to the airport to pick his mom up you happily volunteered.

you had never met the woman before but you wanted to get to know the mother of your boyfriend. plus a few brownie points never hurt.

you instantly hit it off with his mother and bonded quickly, spending the whole day with her even when joshua said you didn’t have to.

when he returned home after work he saw the two of you sitting on your living room couch, eating a meal and chatting away like nothing else mattered.

the two most important people in his life were getting along. he knew then and there everything was right in the world and you were positively his soulmate.

jun

when you started crying over a stray cat.

you weren’t an overly sensitive person usually.

but when it came to animals that’s when all your walls broke.

one day you and jun were on a walk when you spotted a small ball of fluff on the side of the road. being the person you were, you had to go and check on it.

when you saw how skinny and scared the little cat was it brought tears to your eyes. you looked up at jun with glassy eyes and begged him to adopt the cat with you.

of course, he couldn’t say no to you.

when he saw how gentle and loving you were it made him fall even deeper in love with you.

soonyoung

when you instantly bonded with his friends.

soonyoung was a big believer that he needed his partner and his friends to all be friends.

so he was rightfully nervous when he introduced you to his closest friends, his 12 bandmates.

he assumed that you would be a little overwhelmed, meeting 12 men at once, some of which that had very loud personalities.

what he didn’t know was that you would mesh instantly with his friends. you all talked, laughed, sang, and got to know each other. all without the help or intervention of soonyoung, he just sat back and watched with a fond smile.

he saw how you fit so perfectly into his life and it made him certain that you were meant to be in it forever.

wonwoo

when you took care of him while he was sick.

wonwoo is used to doing things on his own. he was a caretaker and he was good at it!

but on the rare occasion that he got so sick that he couldn’t do anything he would just lay in bed and wait for it to wash over him.

when you became his partner he didn’t expect you to take care of him, he wasn’t used to it and frankly he thought he didn’t want it.

but one day when he contracted that strong sickness that made him bedridden you ended up by his side all day.

despite his protests about you getting sick you stuck around, feeding him soup and medicine, keeping him company, and getting whatever he wanted.

he wasn’t used to being taken care of but being taken care of by you felt right.

jihoon

when you spent the whole day in his studio.

jihoon had hit a creative block and you volunteered to stay with him in the studio and try to help to the best of your abilities.

he reluctantly let you come. not that he didn’t want you there, he just didn’t want you to see him failing.

but on the contrary you helped him more that he could put into words.

you helped create beats, gave your input whenever he asked, and made sure he took breaks and ate food (something that he often forgot to do).

he knew he was the luckiest man in the world to have someone so kind and caring around him. that day solidified to him that he’d never let you go.

minghao

when you made him feel at home.

minghao loved living in korea, but sometimes he got homesick.

he wasn’t one to complain but whenever he got extra homesick he would drop little hints. he’d talk about how he missed his moms cooking and his childhood.

the first time he did this you immediately thought up a plan to help combat his homesickness.

the next day he came home to a plethora of classic chinese dishes made just like how his mom cooked (you called her for help).

he couldn’t believe that someone would do something so thoughtful just for him. all he could think about while you two ate together was how he couldn’t think of anyone better to spend his life with.

mingyu

when you cooked together.

everyone knows mingyu is a stellar chef.

but what he didn’t know was that you were too.

your relationship heavily involved food and cooking as a love language. you would each cook each other your favorite dishes as signs of affection.

but mingyu’s favorite thing to do was cook with you.

it felt so domestic and so right.

he even liked how you would bicker with him since you each had your own meticulous ways of cooking different meals.

while you’re stirring something on the stove he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist.

he’ll watch you with the softest eyes, thinking about how lucky he is to have found someone like you.

seokmin

when you didn’t get annoyed with him.

it’s common knowledge that seokmin has quite the loud personality. it was one of the many things that you loved about him.

he knew that it could be annoying to some people, but he couldn’t help it.

but you loved when he would burst out into song for no apparent reason. so much so that you would often join him in song and even try to harmonize.

he loves that you’re never too busy to entertain him, it only makes him fall in love with you more.

now that he’s finally found someone that matches him he won’t even think of letting you go.

seungkwan

when you let him be himself.

seungkwan has always felt pressure to perform. but most times it takes up a lot of his energy.

he’ll come home after a long day of promoting with nearly zero energy yet. and he feels terrible about it.

he was sure that wasn’t what you signed up for when you started dating, so he would apologize and try to use the last of his energy to entertain you.

but you loved seungkwan no matter what. you understood what he was going through and you never pressured him.

you made sure he knew that you didn’t care if he couldn’t crack jokes all the time or be the bubbly personality that he is on camera.

you love him for him. and he loves you, so so much.

vernon

when you listen to the music he likes.

you and vernon had pretty different interests when you first started going out.

so as your relationship progressed you each began to share different parts of your lives with each other. and a big one to vernon was his music.

he didn’t know if you would even like it so he only mentioned it as an offhand comment, not thinking that you’d remember it.

but one day he came home to you dancing around the apartment, his favorite artist blasting on a speaker that you had set up.

you knew all the words to his favorite song.

he couldn’t believe that someone would take the time out of their day just to connect with him like that. in that moment he knew that you were special and he had to keep you forever.

chan

when you let him rant.

being so young and being one of the biggest names in the industry, chan always had a lot on his plate.

he was used to the fast paced life, but that didn’t mean he was always a fan of it.

some nights he would come home late and collapse on the couch, letting you settle in next to him while he went on a tangent about what went wrong that day.

most people would’ve told him to stop complaining or that things weren’t as bad as he thought.

but you didn’t do that. you let him talk and you validated his feelings. you didn’t make him feel inferior or stupid.

the weight on his shoulders always felt lighter after talking to you. when he realized this fact he realized that it was you. everything in his life was fixed with you and you were the only one out there for him.

[campbluelake]

Im running out of Oops I did it again lyrics | ████ 3.5 | re: everyone

Maybe Malyce couldn't find it in himself to be any more angry than he is but Jo feels a familiar feeling. A rage she's felt only twice before. She's sobbing on her knees but, rightfully so, everyone is getting in their verbal punches. Any sane person would agree that ████ deserves far more. Still… Jo can't help but to convince herself that Saya is done with her, her eyes staring hard at the taunt bracelet. That Mason is surely done with her too. That Yua is simply saying they're friends to calm her down. That Tommy is somewhere watching and disgusted she ever touched ████. That if Kyousuke is so sick of her then Eri must be too. She's going to lose everyone. She's going to be alone and have nothing. 

And if you have nothing then you have nothing to lose. 

Her hands wipe away the tears and runny makeup before she slowly gets back to her feet. She looks around at everyone, her breath calming down from her crying but replaced with a different pace. Her face scrunches up in a frown. 

"I couldn't lie about the secrets because LEON had my fake secret which I already TOLD HIM IT WAS FAKE before I fucking knew Warrick had it! If I knew what my other secret was I would have just said Leon had the real one!" 

It's an improvement, maybe, that she's no longer warbly and crying. She sounds fed up and mad. 

"And while I have time left on my clock, can I just say… FUCK. YOU." 

She whips out her arm, pointing at every person she addresses. 

"Fuck you, Kyousuke! I'm sooo sick of your little chill cool guy act when you're probably just a huge dick underneath. I don't fucking trust you for a god damn moment. Fuck you, Hibiki! You're just some god damn old prick who's mad because what? Your life didn't turn out the way you were hoping? Go fuck yourself! Fuck you, Malyce! I might be a murderer but I'll have something you'll never have! A family who actually loves me! Fuck you, Saya! You literally helped Kaede kill someone! Sure, you weren't expecting it to be Nico but also go eat shit if you're going to let this break our friendship, you massive ass!" 

Her body whips around to face Suzy, a special darkness on her features,

 "And you… You want to call me a bitch? At least I'm not some perpetually bitchy dickbag who whines and whines about the shit people did to me in high school. I'm sooo fucking sorry you were bullied by the mean popular girls but guess what. You're just a mean girl that nobody fucking liked and I can see why. You don't deserve friends because you're not nice and you're not loyal. You flip flopping back and forth about liking me or not. Your fucking lie about being worried about others seeing my IDs. Go fuck yourself, Suzy. At least when people were bullying me I finally did something about it. If it wasn't for that damn anti-violence crap I'd break your skull in! Why don't you go cry your stupid ass back to Hot Topic and stay there, you troll!" 

Her breaths are heavy, slowly backing up as far away as the area will let her. 

"All of you can fuck off and die! The only thing I hate more about how I'm dying is that I'm going to die and STILL be stuck with all of you! … Just hurry up and fucking kill me." 

Feeling all the anger and energy leave her Jo just turns her back on them, plopping down in the sand and rain.

[busket]

fuck it im going to treat myself today, long ass post:

first of all if you like this bit of lore thats fine, im not attacking your or saying that your way of enjoying zelda is wrong i just personally dont like it and heres why:

it removes any possibility of evil within the royal family of hyrule; if zelda has the blood of the goddess, then so does her mother and her grandmother and one of her parents and so on and so forth until the very first incarnation of hylia as a human being. were all those people without fault? i know "blood of the goddess" doesn't literally mean "a god, and therefore infallible" but do you think nintendo is going to ever go into depth about any evil that the royal family has done when its a bloodline of a diety thats widely recognized to be the pinnacle of good? thats why they never expanded on fracturing of the sheikah and the creation of the yiga clan. the royal family prosecuted the yiga clan because they were rightfully angry about having to give up their technology. but the game just writes the yiga clan as being foolish and bitter, and that the sheikah tech was better to have not been made (even though it saved hyrule from calamity ganon twice). im sure the yiga clan didn't immediately start out as violent and worshipping ganon because they were just normal people, and it never starts like that. we'll never get a royal family that has gray morality and does some fucked up stuff (like real life monarchies) because nintendo has enforced this divine right of kings in the games.

it removes a lot of zelda's autonomy as a character. what if zelda decides she doesn't want to have kids? she's the very last of the royal family, the last of the goddess' bloodline, so if she wants to pass on her "divine blood" then she must. i feel like she is forced to become a ruler in botw/totk even though the system is completely destroyed and she has no family or authority to tell her what to do; if she really has the goddess' blood i think she would feel like she has no choice. botw was so close with that "what if you didnt want to be a swordsman" memory; it was obvious zelda didnt WANT to be a princess. she felt like she couldn't wield her divine power, and she didnt really want to, she would much rather use the sheikah technology. she was so sick of praying and begging and only did because of the pressure of her father (which is the only semblance of moral grayness we get from the royal family, and even that is washed away as like: oh he had good intentions for abusing his daughter! its ok!!). zelda thrived as a scientist and a researcher and tbh i was kind of disappointed in totk when people were still calling her princess. does she really have intentions of becoming queen after all that she's been through?

it removes any possibility of nuance for ganondorf. just like zelda is the reincarnation of hylia and has the blood of the goddess, ganondorf is evil because of demise's curse. i love ganondorf being evil, i love him as a villain and i dont think i'd really enjoy him being a good guy. BUT i also want a little bit of nuance. wind waker ganondorf (notably written before skyward sword) wasn't a super deep character but he was deeper than any other ganons simply because he stated that he coveted how hyrule was thriving and full of life while his desert was bleak and how his people had to fight to survive. he wanted to take over hyrule because he wanted to be the king of a thriving and powerful nation, and not one that was struggling. still a very selfish motive because its about him as a ruler and not his people, and in his efforts he only destroyed what he was trying to win for himself. and because ww ganondorf IS oot ganondorf, that retroactively makes me enjoy oot ganondorf better as a character too, because its the same motive. but its better than totk's ganondorf who just....wanted everyone to worship him and then wanted to kill everybody because rauru told him what to do (?)

it connects botw and totk to the timeline in a way that i think is really unnecessary. the timeline is just kind of sillyto me and was made as a marketing strategy to sell skyward sword; it was the 25th anniversary and right when SS was coming out nintendo was like "this is the first game in the zelda timeline btw! the one that started it all! yes theres a timeline, we swear we made all these games to be connected, intentionally!!! and skyward sword is the first! play the game to see how the ~legend begins~!!! also buy our book HYRULE HISTORIA to see the timeline." i think botw exists perfectly as a soft reboot of the series and exists nicely outside of the timeline as its own creature. just the fact that both rito and zora exist should be evidence enough that you should just set it aside without having to do backflips to try to connect everything and see where in the timeline fits in. which means, it doesn't have to be connected to skyward sword. hylia clearly exists as a god in botw, BUT i think its so much more interesting to consider the possibility in meta that the myth of the princess carrying the blood of the goddess is just...made up! for propaganda! like, of course a monarchy would say that their lineage is descended from a god. thats so much more interesting to me than it literally being true. and zelda has very powerful sealing powers but individuals with unique magical powers is not uncommon in botw/totk. all the sages have magical powers, link has superhuman reflexes, ganondorf clearly had some ability to make clones of people and create/control monsters before he got his secret stone. zelda's powers may have been given to her by a god (like a dnd cleric situation) but that doesnt mean that she is literally descended from a god and has the blood of that god inside her from her family.

semi related but i also just really dont like how monotheistic tloz became after skyward sword. for me the best zelda pantheon includes the 3 triforce goddesses that created the world, then a wide array of minor and sometimes nameless gods that do other things. like how zephos and cyclos were gods in wind waker, and how the great fairies could be considered to be gods, or the bargainer statues. hylia being worshipped as The Goddess is like...idk i feel like puts the kingdom of hyrule on a pedistal, because she's the goddess of hyrule specifically. i much prefer the people of hyrule worshipping the gods that rule over nature or the gods that created the world at large. i just think polytheism is cool so its disappointing that they all just refer to "the goddess", singular.

ok thats all i can think of thanks for reading my bitching

every day I am so strong for resisting the urge to constantly complain about how much I dislike the lore that zelda has ~~~the blood of the goddess~~~ in her i hate it so much dude it's such doodoo writing i can't stand what skyward sword did

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not so sure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

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

Oh, you loved this man. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

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

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

“I thought he was cool before.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

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

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

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s true. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I kinda do—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

epi-epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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