#you know how dd writers can be

[xycuro-illuminati]

[lit-in-thy-heart]

people leaving not glowing reviews in ao3 bookmarks my unbeloved

[haven-of-trash]

I haven't wanted to write for a fandom in so long, my last one was F&H and the one before that was SP and that one absolutely abolished and hurt me in ways no other fandom has.

Legit since then its been a struggle to be creative, but now- interacting with some of the people here (although quite small) in the DD fandom has brought me joy and actual comfort.

It may be a small few and I may haven't integrated myself fully in the circle but so many people have been super kind and I haven't been this excited to write for a piece of media in so long its so... Refreshing.

Its so lovely, and feels good and I feel that maybe this time I can actually stay and write my piece and finally have friendly and good feedback. :)))

Honestly, thank you <3

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

[caelanglang]

some of my works for @/bsdaction on twitter

In case you are wondering, BSD Action is a fundraiser for CareForGaza themed around bsd :3 People can send in a requests for both art and fic for £10! The requester will only know who worked on their prompt and how it turns out when it's complete and posted by the artist or writer (prompts can be sfw, nsfw, and dd) :3 More info about them in their carrd!

special bonus, this one is for Baihe Action (on twt) which operates similarly to BSD Action but is themed around Chinese GL novels :3

will definitely update this if I get more prompts in :3

edit: for those who saw the draft, no you did not. THAT WAS SO EMBARRASSING BYE IDK WHY TUMBLR GLITCHED AND DELETED EVERYTHING I WROTE OTL

[peachesofteal]

Peaches this is going to be a long one (I apologize in advance) because I think you have, without hyperbole, changed my life. Of course, there are plenty of fics that I love and enjoy and that make me feel things but this? 

First off, I love this ending. I’m so surprised at the amount of people who are considering this a sad/bad ending, or wishing that it turned out differently, because to me this is the only way it could have gone. You’re a gifted writer, Peach, and you’ve made these characters real. And while we all love to fuck off into delulu/dissociative/indulgent fanfiction, you’ve crafted such a real experience here and in reality, GhoapxDarling could have never worked. Not happily. Not healthily. This was the best possible outcome for everyone involved.

It reminds me a bit of Orpheus and Eurydice: A tragedy, but to me it isn’t sad. Orpheus turns around because he loves Eurydice, and any alternative would not be a retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice. A version of this story in which GhoapxDarling make it to the end is the story where Ghoap isn’t Ghoap (DD version) and Darling isn’t Darling. They loved each other to ruin, and they were meant to.

Secondly, I’ve been following this story since the beginning, finding DD on ao3 and then following along on tumblr where you were able to build this story well past the 15 (22?) chapters, each AU further fleshing out this version of Ghoap and letting us see ourselves in Darling. You took me on such an emotional roller coaster ride with Darling and there were so many times during this where I’d think, “I’m Darling” and it was so bittersweet. Relief, knowing that you and other readers knew what this felt like, the way you were able to put to page these feelings I’ve never been able to process on my own. Depair, realizing I’ve always been like this, that I’ve always hurt this way. Fear, that I would always feel this way.  

I’ve recently come out of one of the worst depressive episodes I’ve had in my lifetime. Even now I’m still barely getting my footing, like I’m standing on a bus with only the grab handle too high above me for balance as life continues to stop and lurch forward again.

But Peaches. This last chapter. I read it in my car right after work, and drove my evening commute in silence to process. To think. To feel. And I felt…hope. In between the shock and awe and sadness of this chapter, I smiled the whole way home.

Before, there was a mantra, “I am Darling”

Now, there’s a choice. A revelation.

I can be Darling. 

(yes, I recognize that she stepped away from the moniker, stepped forward without  “Darling”, so perhaps this is less impactful but-)

I can be her. I can want better for myself. With or without the strength to do it, I can try.

Thank you, Peaches. You deserve the world. 

This gave me SO many feelings and I’m very honored that you’ve shared it with me. It never fails to touch me when someone shares these sentiments with me, and to know I’ve been a part of your life, that Darling has been a part of your life through this fic, that you would say it’s changed you, or given you hope… it means so much.

“They loved each other to ruin, and they were meant to.” This was so poignant, and I feel like they are so seen by these words.

I know how it feels to be at the bottom of a well, to be sunken so deep in a depressive episode that you think you’ll never claw your way out, and I’m proud of you for reaching for that handle and hanging on.

You can be her. It’s hard to take that step, to have the strength, but all you really need is the belief, the trust, in yourself.

[randomfoggytiger]

If you had to put a number on it how many times do you think Mulder and Scully slept together in season 7? And, if you are so inclined what episodes would they have slept together in? Asking for a friend (me) 😊

The answer is probably "frequently." XDDD My reading of canon points to post-Millennium shenanigans.

But I believe we can pick up purposefully placed clues from Scully: she is late (or last to arrive) in Rush and The Goldberg Variation and The Great Maleeni-- which is a marked change from their routine; meaning, imo, she had to drive back to her apartment, get properly dressed, then catch a flight later-- and she's often shown crashing wherever Mulder lands-- all things's opening sequence, Hollywood A.D.'s ending, Requiem's motel room scene, etc.

Furthermore, I believe that Mulder and Scully spent more nights at his apartment than hers due to to his isolatory and her level of comfortability there. (And it's just brimming with MSR memories and moments, which makes it thematically more important.) As mentioned above, we see her gravitate to his apartment more than her own, particularly in all things (which was the first on-screen confirmation); and Scully is the type to go to him rather than call up and ask him to come to her. Gravitating of her own accord to his place would be a measure of half-admittance-- effectively appeasing her own sense of independence (and shame at fessing up to weakness.)

But post all things, all bets are off; and we see that increased level of "who honestly cares about hiding anymore" when they arrive at the office, late, together, and when they shack up shamelessly in the same motel room because Scully feels sick and knows Mulder's a bed warmer. (The latter's script even notes that they arrived with extra hurry to the next morning's crime scene; meaning, they had to rush to get there on time. Which could point to them either having sex that morning or choosing to sleep in-- or Mulder sneakily letting her sleep in-- because Scully was still a little unwell.)

I will note: I'm further bolstered in my assertion by their behavior in Season 8 (gasp, horror.) Wrote a post about it here, but the first time we see Mulder using a key to Scully's place is at the end of Existence (now that they have a family) while Scully is shown openly crashing at his apartment, heartsick, from day one (Within.) Season 8, out of necessity (the baby's arrival and DD's looming second absence), began the transition away from Mulder's place to Scully's (Three Words is the last time we see his apartment, if I recall correctly.) We watched him always dropping by her apartment (Empedocles, Alone) and eagle-eyed his toothbrushes and shirts (Essence)-- which subtly pointed to that transition-- yet, the important part of their history at Hegel's Place was never truly resolved. It's a shame that canon dismissed it out of hand without a proper goodbye. ...But, again, that might be selling the writers and actors short: Mulder himself was detached from apartment 42 in Three Words (only noting "It's clean" and standing or sitting everywhere as compactly and insecurely as possible); and trekked from Alexandria to Georgetown constantly of his own free will. There just... wasn't enough on-screen to justify that write-off. (Add it to the list of micro-changes that weren't allowed to be explored. >:////)

I hope this satisfies~. But if not, I open the floor: does anyone want to take a crack at anon's question?

[rendy-a]

Aha, requests are open, aha. How would Leona, Azul, and Kalim deal with a secret admirer that often sends them flowers with special (often romantic *cough cough*) meanings? :DD I'm really interested on reading your take on this~

I was really excited for this request but somehow, I kept getting writer’s block when doing it.  I finally have it ready!  Hope you enjoy it.  Thanks for requesting!

A Blooming Romance

Apple blossom and daisy: I prefer you before all, a loyal love

One day, Leona returns to his dorm room to find a small vase left on the table in his room.  It had a mixture of white flowers and looked out of place among the manly décor of Savanahclaw.  He considers its purpose, immediately rejecting having been put there by Ruggie.  The hyena would not bestir himself for something as frivolous as flowers, especially if there was no benefit to himself.  Honestly though, Leona hardly cares.  It was pointless to waste time on thinking of such things, so he merely draped himself on the bed and took his usual nap, giving them no more thought. 

When the apple blossoms started losing petals and the daisies dropping, Leona regarded them with a certain amount of cynical satisfaction.  What was the point of such things when they’d only wilt alone, without any chance to achieve their potential of seeding and creating a new generation of blooms.  Life’s not fair, is it?

Only, the flowers continued to arrive.  He returned one day to see, not the dropping and discarded blooms, but a fresh bouquet gracing the vase.  He frowned to view it, taking afront at the challenge to his depressing outlook.  As though someone cared.  Well surprise, now Leona cares enough to put effort into discovering the identity of the mystery sender.    

He figures out you are behind it really fast, once he has decided to try.  One, he has a great sense of smell and can pick up the lingering scent of flowers on you.  Two, he practically lives in the botanical garden, so he’s probably heard you picking flowers there a time or two.  Come on Prefect, at least try to make this a challenge for him.

He questions the meaning frequently.  Not that he doesn’t know the language of flowers because, as a royal, he is familiar with the use of flowers to convey meaning.  He has had education into such things from a young age, so he can be wary of accepting gifts with hidden strings or imparting unintended meanings into political spheres with a carelessly chosen gift.  So, he knows what they could mean only, to you…what do they mean?  Surely not what they seem, not for a second prince like him.  But why does he still hope…

If you don’t say anything, neither will he.  He is comfortable with the relationship you have and doesn’t want to make it complicated if you aren’t wanting to go there.  He has had a lot of disappointment in life and really doesn’t want to risk more.  He lets himself daydream about it a little bit though.

You stumble onto the path in the botanical gardens, nearly tripping over Leona.  You carefully pat your bag, where a bouquet rests (thankfully undamaged), hidden inside.  You wonder if you have a chance at slipping away unnoticed, not trusting yourself to keep your secret concealed from the sharp beastman.  However, your contemplation is cut short when Leona cracks open an eye.  After a moment of silence, he says, “Well?  Are you laying down or not?”  You realize you can’t just walk away now without rousing suspicion, so you set your bag carefully aside and lay down next to Leona to settle in for a nap. 

You pull your bag tight into yourself, hoping to keep it safe from harm (and prying eyes) while you nap.  Leona sees the gesture and says, “If you’re cold, you should come closer.  Don’t expect me to take care of you later if you get sick.”  You nervously slide closer to the lion beastman, until you can feel the warmth radiating from his side.  You hope your extremely flustered state isn’t obvious to your crush and lay waiting, dreading to hear some comment or jibe indicating he has noticed your foolish behavior.  You are so focused on your own apprehensions that you miss when he softly lays his tail over one of your legs, curling it slightly around as if to say, ‘this one is mine.’

A red carnation means love, pride, and admiration

When Azul returns from club activities and finds a bouquet tied with string sitting on his desk in the VIP room, his first reaction is to panic.  Who was in here and what did they see?  He sits at the desk and pulls up the security camera feed on his phone app.  A shadow spirit was not what he expected.  This variety, Azul knows, is connected to Sam’s Mystery Shop.  As a fellow businessman, Sam will engage in any business for the right price, even flower delivery.  However, that means the flower bouquet could reasonably be from anyone for any number of purposes.  Rather than being satisfied at finding the office intruder, Azul feels instead overwhelmed with questions.

Azul has never received flowers before, nor is he particularly informed on popular romance trends, so he is left unaware of the bouquet’s meaning.  Is this some land-dweller custom?  If Sam is involved, could it be tied to some business opportunity?  He really has no idea what this means but he does know what to do about that, research.

Azul goes to the library to research flower bouquets and customs related to receiving one.  That leads him to researching flower language and...  He bursts into the lounge, making a beeline for his VIP room.  He sequesters himself in there with a book on flower language, getting more and more flustered as he finds the meanings to the flowers.  Love…admiration…pride… and these were chosen for him?  You now have one very flustered octomer sitting on the couch, gazing at the bouquet and kicking his feet wildly like a schoolgirl.

While before he was merely curious as to the sender and possible business opportunities, Azul very quickly becomes quite obsessed with discovering his mystery admirer.  He does a complete investigation into the sender.  Your desire to continue sending your crush flowers does you in.  While Sam is as tight-lipped about your identity as you’d hoped, Azul arranges for Idia to pull security footage of the area outside the Mystery Shop.  After combing through countless hours of footage, a list of suspects is made based on patterns of who is visiting the Mystery Shop around the dates of delivery.  Now all that is left is to send Jade and Floyd to follow the suspects for confirmation.

When Jade and Floyd start following you, a sense of dread falls to the pit of your stomach.  You’ve taken this secret admirer thing too far.  You felt that your heart could more easily handle a rejection from Azul than being in a constant state of terror from being stalked by the Leech brothers, so you gathered your courage and decided it was time to confess in person.

When you arrive at Monstro Lounge and request a private conversation with Azul, you receive a very creepy laugh from Floyd and an even creepier smile from Jade.  “I believe that can be arranged, Prefect.” Jade tells you and leads you to the VIP room.  Oddly enough, Jade doesn’t even inform Azul that you’ve arrived; he merely opens the door for you and gestures for you to enter.  You feel a sense of foreboding, this is almost too easy, but you enter anyway.

When you pass over the threshold and turn your gaze to the interior of the room, you notice that Azul isn’t sitting at his desk but is instead reviewing the contents of his safe.  When he hears someone enter, he says, “Is there a problem Jade?  I asked for some privacy.”  You feel unsure about being here now.  “Um, its only me.  Sorry?” you say timidly.  Azul’s head whips around to look at you.  He catches your gaze, and his eyes widen slightly as a slight flush rises to his cheeks.  You felt unsure if that was because of the awkward statement when you entered the room or other reasons.

“Oh…o..of course, Prefect,” Azul stammers, momentarily caught off-guard, “Do come in.” With a gesture, he indicates you should take a seat before turning to close the safe.  You do sit down but at the same time, something in the safe catches your eye before it fully closes.  Your first bouquet, tied with string, has been magically preserved and is being kept in the safe.  You remember cutting the flowers for that bouquet from the botanical garden and tying them together yourself with some string you found in Ramshackle.  After that first bouquet, Sam commented that he could easily take over that task, adding the flowers and arranging to your tab for a reasonable amount and you had agreed.  The subsequent bouquets had been more professionally done up with paper and ribbon, making that first heartfelt bouquet so recognizable.  And he’d kept it. 

In the time it takes for Azul to turn back around and sit himself across from you in his chair, your demeanor has undergone a remarkable change.  You feel a confidence you hadn’t had before, and your smile is a bright indication of this.  Azul has a good idea of why you are here, having narrowed down the list of suspects greatly, but his own inexperience with romance has made him uncharacteristically timid.   What will he do if this is all just some joke to you, another cruel taunt added to the string of harsh incidents that make up his life.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight, Prefect?” Azul asks cautiously.  You smile back at him.  “Where those flowers I saw in there?  Must be pretty important to keep them locked up in there.”  Azul’s eyes widen and he stutters back at you, “N.n.no!  Its j.just…nothing.  It’s nothing.”  At his reaction, you know Azul indeed feels something connected to the flowers.  You feel your confidence welling up and boldly stand and approach Azul where he sits behind his desk. 

“You know, flowers have meanings.  Are you curious about those?  I could tell you some things, if you want.”  Azul looks a strange mix of nervous and hopeful as he asks, “What do you intend to get in exchange for that information?"  You place one hand on the arm of his chair and reply, “Oh not much, I’d just like to tell you in my own way.  Is that alright?”  Instead of speaking, Azul gives you a curt nod.  You smile and swivel his chair before sitting in his lap.  Azul’s composure entirely dissolves as you smile lovingly at him and declare, “They mean pride, admiration and,” you lean closer to whisper the last word in his ear, “love.”  You sit there, enjoying the way Azul blushes and raises his hand to hide behind as he observes you from between his splayed digits.  What you don’t realize is he is using this time to plan a contract for you, one that will keep you by his side.  Before the night is out, he is determined that you’ll be agreeing, It’s a Deal!

Red tulip: I declare my affection for you

Kalim is an open person, inviting many people to visit him at Scarabia.  So, he is not at all phased to see you in the lounge one morning, standing near a vase of fresh red tulips.  When you startle at the sight of him and nervously look at the flowers, having been caught red-handed in your secret delivery, Kalim only gives you a hearty laugh. “Ah hah hah!  Aren’t flowers the greatest!  Next time, I’ll have to show you the flowers at my family’s home!  We’ll have a big banquet in the garden to celebrate!”  He then continues on his morning routine of visiting the magic carpet in his treasure chamber.  Jamil trails after him, turning briefly to give you a highly amused look before disappearing behind Kalim.

Kalim is clueless as to your gift and intention.  He doesn’t mean to be!  Its just that he has fresh flowers around all the time, so he doesn’t notice that those specific flowers are a gift from you.  Perhaps you prefer it that way?  If not, you’ll have to be more direct!  There is still time before classes; pull Kalim aside and tell him the flowers are a gift.

Your talk doesn’t go as planned.  Even after you directly tell him the flowers are a gift from you, he doesn’t connect it with romance at all.  He just thinks is a really nice gesture from a really nice friend.  Jamil knows though.  He knows about your crush and the flower’s meaning and everything.  Just look at the way he laughs silently at you behind lidded eyes, he knows.

You have two options here; just directly confess or get Jamil on your side.  If you can convince Jamil you are harmless, he might even help you out.  If you start dating, then Kalim is your problem for at least part of the day.  Actually, time to himself sounds rather nice.  Once you depart from Scarabia, Jamil begrudgingly talks to Kalim about the bouquet.

You hear a knock on the front door and head to open it.  You don’t often have visitors at Ramshackle, leaving you to wonder who it might be.  When you open the door, you are tackled into a hug by Kalim.  “Ah hah hah!  There you are, Prefect!  I’ve been looking all over for you.”  You are taken aback by his sudden appearance.  After the disaster of your near confession this morning, you weren’t expecting to see Kalim any time soon, let alone before lunch on the same day. 

“Ah, Kalim,” you bashfully say as you gently return his greeting hug. “Umm, what brings you here?”  He pulls back enough to look at you, flashing a bright smile.  “Jamil explained it all to me.  I never knew you liked to arrange flowers!  That’s so great!”  You realize he’s missed the point of the bouquet again and give him an awkward grin.  “Well, you know…its good to have hobbies?”  Kalim nods his head enthusiastically, as though that was a great point of wisdom being bestowed upon him.  “I know!  Jamil even said so too!  In fact, he told me that I should invite you to lunch at Scarabia to tell me more about it!”  Jamil, that snake.

You arrive in Scarabia, having been coaxed and dragged along by Kalim.  You weren’t sure if you were ready to face your embarrassment from this morning again, but Kalim was so excited to hear more about flowers that you found you couldn’t refuse him.  Lunch is being served when you arrive, curtesy of Jamil.  A variety of Scalding Sand’s dishes are arranged on a table, using your flower vase as a centerpiece.  Before he leaves you two alone, Jamil pauses to say, “I’ll expect you to watch over Kalim until lunch ends.  I’m sure you can handle that, correct?”  You give him a firm nod and Jamil seems skeptical but still departs.

Once alone, Kalim keeps up a chain of conversation.  He talks about the food, the weather, classes; an array of random topics but each one discussed joyfully and enthusiastically.  Finally, he seems to settle his eyes upon your flowers, and he recalls the reason for your visit.  “Oh, Prefect!  I nearly forgot about the flowers!”  You jump and gaze upon the flowers, having forgotten them yourself.  “Ah well,” you begin, feeling a heat rising on your face, “these ones are a symbol of affection.  That you want to spend more time with someone special to you.” 

Kalim beams at you before declaring that he’d love to spend more time with you too!  You’ll have to come over to Scarabia more often.  In fact, he’ll invite everyone and you’ll have the most amazing party!  Ultimately, you are left unsure as to whether Kalim has really understood the situation.  However, when Kalim stands, throws an arm around you, and leads you to the mirror; you decide it doesn’t really matter.  You’ve achieved your goal, to spend more time with your crush.  The rest can take its time.  Even flowers know how to wait for their season.

[daresplaining]

Do you think a blind person could play Daredevil or is Matt a bit too "competent" considering his super-senses? Like once he stops hiding his super-senses? Tho, by my honest and humble opinion, if the actor would get a proper tour of the sets, instructions and (if the actor would want to do his own stunts) training and co-operation, he could do the work pretty well (and with the help of stunt-doubles). Whitch while i love Charlie Cox, his performance and i know he loves the character and cares for him, and i am not even blind so i don't think i have any authority or even right to say anything (whitch is fine tbh) but i'd love to see that sort of authenticity and representation.

I'll go one step further: I think a blind actor should play Daredevil, full stop. I wish Charlie Cox all the best and success in his career, but I truly feel that casting him was a mistake and a huge missed opportunity, and the more effort that the MCU makes to start actually casting disabled actors (Alaqua Cox as Maya Lopez, for instance), the more awkward it feels to still have a sighted actor hanging around playing Matt.

To me, this is not really an issue of whether a blind actor is capable of playing the role, because of course they are, for all of the reasons you mentioned and more. What it comes down to is this: If accommodations are required to allow an actor to play a role successfully, then the answer is for the studio to make those accommodations. If screen acting or action film/TV acting or whatever is not accessible at this stage, the answer is to make it accessible, not to avoid casting disabled actors.

But to me, this isn't even about that. It's about the fact that there are very few blind characters in media, that Matt Murdock is arguably one of the most high-profile blind characters in media, and that this is a role that would have changed a blind actor's life and provided groundbreaking representation for the blind/visually impaired community. Plus, as you point out, having a blind actor in the lead role (not to mention in the writer's room, etc.) would ensure authenticity and add nuance. It's not about whether a blind actor is capable of playing Matt (they are), or about how well a sighted actor is able to embody the blind experience; it is about giving opportunities to actors who historically have not received them.

I really appreciate your question, and I'm sorry if this reads a bit rant-ish. This topic has been stewing for quite a while, as you can imagine, both in my brain and in the wider DD fan community.

[thewillowtree3]

Korrasami Secret Santa 2023!! ;DD!!

Hi, Korrasami fam!! We're back!! ;D!!

We're doing Korrasami Secret Santa for 2023!! (Sike, I did not copy this part from Korrasami Secret Secret 2022, but the rest I will LOOL). 6 years and kicking, babey, let's go ;DD!!

The rules are the same:

Korrasami creators will be able to gift one another with Secret Santa gifts. Whether it be fics, art, videos, animations…the fun’s all there! (It doesn’t have to be holiday-themed! It can be whatever you want :)

The Process:

This Secret Santa exchange will be done through drawnames.com, which is a Secret Santa Name Generator. You’ll need your email for this, and you can message me it directly on Tumblr (I’ll gather everyone’s names up, and put them into the generator when it’s time to draw names.)

The due date to sign up is 11:59 PM Nov 30, 2023 PDT (I’d like everyone to have ample time to do their Secret Santa gifts). :)

Most likely, you’ll need to make an account on drawnames.com (you don’t need to, but it’s recommended.  When you get to writing your Wish List on there, under ‘Hobbies and Interests’, make two different lists: One for ��Fic Requests’, the other for ‘Art Requests’. If a writer draws your name, you’ll have a suggestion for what you want them to write. If an artist draws your name, they’ll have an idea of what to create! (Also, originally, this project only had fanfic and fanart- but if anyone can contribute any other talents, that’d be swell!)

Example: Fic Request- I want Korra and Asami cuddling at home with a fireplace!

Art Request: I want Korrasami going otter-penguin sledding!

The fic and art requests can be the same, or they can be different. Please limit it to one, or if you can’t choose, then two options. You can also note things that you don’t want (i.e. No smut or NSFW work!). You can be as specific as you wish.

Also, everyone else! We recognize that there may be people in the fandom who don’t create content, but still want to contribute! @lamftw​ came up with these great ideas four years ago, if you’d still like to participate in the Secret Santa. You can:

Create Korrasami memes! The more memes, the better :)

Share your favorite Korrasami headcanons! We’d love to hear them.

Share your favorite artwork/fanfic!

Share your favorite moment from LoK or share how much Korrasami means to you.

Create Korrasami memes, write a sweet holiday message/ note of appreciation :)

Also, we can all show some love to our favorite creators, to Bryke, Janet Varney, and Seychelle Gabriel (the voice of Korra and Asami, respectively). :)

When everyone has signed up, I’ll put all the names into the Secret Santa Name Generator. You should get an email, asking you to join the Secret Santa exchange. Just click ‘Join Group’, and you’re good! Once everyone has joined, the names will then be drawn, and you’ll get your chosen individual (you’ll get an email for this too). Please remember to check your email on Dec 1; we cannot draw names unless everyone has joined the Secret Santa group!

The reveal will be on Dec 19, 2023 (the 9th Korrasami Anniversary ;DD). Post your work on Tumblr, and tag the person you got, so they’ll know what lovely work they got! Also, please tag ‘Korrasami Secret Santa’ so we can save these posts for the future :).

Please note that if you sign up, you HAVE to commit to making something. This is open to all creators, of any skill level, but please please make something if you sign up. You don’t wanna leave anyone hanging!

Last note- remember to message me on Tumblr and give me your email. That’s the way to sign up! :)

Let's freaking go, y'all! LET'S MAKE THIS A GOOD ONE!! ;DDDD!!

Spread this to all your creator friends! LET'S GO FAM!! ;DD!!

6 YEARS IN A ROW!! LEGGO!! ;DDDD!!

Note- 11/27: Hey y’all, I’ve been shadowbanned recently LOL. Idk when Tumblr will unban me and give me my account back so ;__;. Because I’ve been shadowbanned, I cannot see any messages about the Korrasami Secret Santa :((. If I don’t get my account back before Nov 30th, I’ll just have to postpone the event and make a new date for it/prolong the posting date. I’ll keep y’all updated ;__;.

Note-11/28: Y’all, I just found out- Y’ALL CAN SEND IN ASKS!! I can still see them!! ;DDDD!! So if you still wanna join, please send me an ask with your email. I’ll still be prolonging the join/posting date if I don’t get my account back before Nov 30th, but this is a solution in the meantime!! :33

[orizukuin]

This one took forever to do- but overall I'm honestly happy for it's outcome :>

I did say we'll be starting with the Q&A once I upload the Character sheet in my style- (? At this time I'm still not sure if it's acceptable to call this one as a Character sheet- I tried my best...)

----- :

The Q&A is just for funsies/entertainment. ( Have a question for Charlie and Mike? Ask anyways! I'm sure they'll answer )

Please do keep in mind that the Character's surname is just an Headcanon of mine since they don't got a canon surnames. I search in the web for Korean surnames since the game was created by Korean Artists and Writers. Then landed with "Hyung-Seok" (for Charlie) and "Choi" (For Mike)

Charlie's personality is pretty much like in the game but with a side of candy sprinkles. Instead of avoidant,distancing themselves and pushing people away. Charlie's slowly opening themselves up and accepting to appreciate the little things that comes in their way. (Which sometimes make them feel weird since it's like a new feeling.)

We know very little of Mike's information in the game but we can see enough how understanding and caring he is. I think He got that light and warm energy around him that make others think instantly that Mike is a person that's a friend to everyone.

-----

I don't own the characters, both characters were belong to Miltteok, Jiwoo, Team_344 and the people that worked behind the production/foundation of UWO/CIU

!!! : if you have played the game, I suggest you to try and check it out :DD !!!

((→ feel free to save/use for Reference purposes ONLY))

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 28th July ✨

What to even say about this week. Oh my god. Will anything else ever live up to the The Silt Verses finale?? I don’t know! 

🦀 It’s been nearly a week and I still want to explode thinking about the @thesiltverses finale. What an incredible story made by incredible, talented people. I sobbed, I laughed, I said ‘fuck OFF’ out loud in shock and dismay. What a wonderful reminder to choose love no matter what you are asked to sacrifice. I wish Jon and Muna all the best for parenthood and I’m looking forward to their next project, whenever that may be!

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E14) aw it makes my heart so happy to hear Leo and Riley working through their issues!! Leo’s under a lot of pressure to fix a problem that may be unfixable (at least without a certain someone stopping being an evil hoarder of spirits) but I believe in them now that they’re no longer working in isolation!!

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (160) !!!!!! DO !!!! YOU!! WANT !!! TO !!! BE !! MY !!! FFR!!!IIIEEEN!!DD!!! !!!! I wish this episode could have ended with the return of my BEST BOY but jesus, that torture device Shelby is trapped in is not only sick but also twisted. I love how the hallows plays with genre, but I didn’t expect a nod to torture porn! I hope Clem gets her out of there and SOON. 

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (28) hehehe my favourite silly is back and they’re 🤭✨jealous✨🤭. I love how Óli is so entitled but SO endearing with it. “I shouldn’t HAVE TO” stop, I already love them so much. 

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (23) The thing that really creeped me out this episode was how the writer kept referring to suggestions other handles had made while all the posts were getting 0 comments. Excellent stuff. 

🦋 @remnantspod had my emotions all over the place this week with eps 2+3. I loved how simple but effective the music was in ep 2 and I think my heart is still broken thinking about that ring. This show is going to ruin my life in the best way, I can already tell. 

🥾 @doyoucopypod is back! I listened to the first episode this week and I’m excited to hear the recordings to find out what on Earth happened in these caves! I’m worried that this entity will find out what they’re doing and compel Blair to stop them!! 

Possibly no ADS from me next week because I'm going on my sister's hen do (pray for me hehe) 

I hope everyone has a lovely week and listens to things that make their heart happy! 🥰

[bellaxgiornata]

hiya! i’m asking both you and @pastafossa this question (because you’re my favorite daredevil writers). as someone who was very sunburnt today, july 4th, do you think matt can feel himself get a sunburn? and would he wear sunscreen to counteract it? when we were young, my sister had bad sensory issues and wouldn’t wear sunscreen. so i’m just wondering what matt’s reaction to all that would be. hope you had a great 4th of july!!

First off thank you so much!! 😭❤ There are so many wonderful DD writers so hearing that means a lot!! And @pastafossa is amazing (TRT is the reason I even started writing for Matt)!

I'm so sorry this took me so long to respond to, I've had the answer in my brain since I first read this, but finding a moment uninterrupted by children to sit and respond has been hard to do! (Also sorry to hear about your sunburn that day, that sounds awful!)

As usual I answered below the cut because this got long!

To answer your first question, I absolutely believe Matt can feel a sunburn. I mean, when I've had bad sunburns I can feel them aching and burning throughout the day on my own skin and I don't remotely have the senses that Matt does. And showering with a sunburn? I'm sure you know how much that sucks 😆 To Matt I imagine a sunburn would be constantly irritating and painful, but considering how injured he probably often is just walking around day to day, I'm sure the pain would be nothing new to him. He'd probably try to just suck it up or consider it something he deserved to suffer through. But yes, I absolutely think he could feel it and that it would be nonstop miserable for him--especially a really, really bad sunburn.

As for Matt wearing sunscreen, I could absolutely see him wearing it, BUT I will add that I don't really picture Matt as the type of individual that goes out in the sun long enough to get burnt in the city. I'm sure he did as a kid on occasion though, but not so much as an adult. He doesn't seem to have a lot of recreational hobbies or leisure time for lengthy outdoor daytime activities because he's too busy with the firm or too busy being the Devil or too busy being half dead in his apartment. Though if he did go out for a day in the sun, he'd probably be dragged by someone else (like a significant other or Fog) and they would most likely force him to wear some. And yes, most definitely I could see sunscreen absolutely bothering him, but I believe some might be more bearable to him than others.

I think it was last month that I was researching different types of sunscreens (don't ask, weird thing to research, I know) and there are literally so many different types nowadays that I imagine he'd be able to find one that wasn't too awful for him to wear. It currently eludes me whether it was the mineral or chemical ones that are less irritating on skin--especially if you sweat and it gets in your eyes--but I imagine there'd be a go-to type he'd use. Something that didn't have too much of a strong scent and that absorbed fairly well into his skin. Because anything that left a sort of greasy layer on him I'm sure would be distracting and feel disgusting to him. And having to reapply it would certainly just add to that gross feeling. More than likely he'd still end up taking a long shower after his outdoor activities to try to get it all off of his skin as soon as he could, too.

This was such a fun question though, so thank you!! I don't know if you read FFTD but in a waaaaay later installment in the future I plan to look at Matt sitting on a beach in a somewhat realistic view of him (from how I picture things) dealing with the situation with his senses. So basically having to wear sunscreen, dealing with sand on his skin (OMG he'd so hate sand 🤣😭) and possibly some other things. It's just always so fun to explore how he'd react to things with his senses!

[chiiyuuvv]

BESTIEEE

I FINALLY PASSED MY HISTORY EXAM💃💃💃💃

I failed this exam A LOT OMG

BUT guess what...I PASSED IT WITH 100/100

Girl I can't believe it🥹🥹

SAUR how do you think xikers will react to you passing an exam/important test that you were working on for a long time/stressing over a lot?

You can write it whenever you can cuz I think your requests are closed, BUT I CAN WAIT. I want YOUR thoughts because you are the best writer on this app frfr. So take your time

Anyways take care bestie, don't skip your meals, love youu🤍

-🌵 anon<3

• PAIRING — bf!xikers x gn!reader

• GENRE — proud xikerss :DD, slight kissing, almost wrote a whole fic for hunter-

• WORD COUNT — 782

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — sorry this is so late!! And good job on your tests :O

• TAGLIST — @lil-elle , @hyunukitty , @cake1box , @mars101 , @nenede , @soul-is-a-strange-kid , @the-lemon-boy , @yuniniverse

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

MINJAE ☆

Hes not even surprised atp, he knows how smart you are

But boy does he pretend to be shocked, his hand covering his mouth as he takes in another gasp

But his other hand is hiding behind his back

You seem to notice and the only thing he can do is giggle, revealing an neatly folded box

Turns out there was a very pretty necklace inside, minjae spinning you around to put it on you, whispering in your ear how pretty you look and how proud he is ♡

JUNMIN ☆

Makes sure you do nothing for the rest of the week

So what if its monday?? He'll do anything for his precious baby since you worked so hardd

Will make your meals and clean the kitchen, your room, your study area

Even gives you a bath

And he wont stop either, that is, if you want cuddles ♡

SUMIN ☆

Sumin knew how stressed out you'd get with your exams so he prepared you a little smth!!

(And also some tissues)

Finally uncovering your eyes, you find a self portrait of yourself studying

And lemme just say how beautiful you look

The lines sketched with such care and patients, now you know why sumin had been smiling so much lately ♡

JINSIK ☆

I think this calls for pizza!! 🗣🗣‼‼

Also makes sure you do nothing. All you gotta do is just there and look pretty and that was already took no effort

Also a movie night because why not, and you've been meaning to catch up on some movies, also why not??

His arm wrapped your shoulder at all times, and will whine if you try to move around

Plus random cheek kisses, yeah, thats about it ♡

HYUNWOO ☆

Decides to buy tickets last minute and takes you to the fair!!

Lots of hand holding and pda, wiping some off the cinnamon off of your lips caused by your churros

Will attempt to get you those huge teddy bears, but sulks when he cant so you just gotta give him some kisses

Also the ferris wheel!!

Makes sure youre at the tippy top then he processed to tell you how proud his is and how special you mean to him, sealing it with a kiss ♡

JUNGHOON ☆

Yall know junghoon isnt that big on physical affection

But when he hears the news hes a changed man

His eyes shot open and his hands moving faster than his brain, picking you up and spinning you around when he gives you the biggest kiss on your cheek

Wait whaat??

Wdym he did that no he didnt stop being so delusional he didnt kiss your cheek and secretly enjoyed it but not enjoying your teasings rn shut up 🙄 ♡

SEEUN ☆

"Really?! I thought you failed!!"

His response earned him a huge punch

But hes only joking, ruffling your hair before dialing his phone, calling everyone and their mom to tell the news

Man does more than just spill the tea, he makes it from scratch

Hes overally dramatic when he tells your adventure, saying how you had to cross 7 seas just to find the right answer.. but you love him anyways 🤷‍♀️ ♡

YUJUN ☆

Hes wants to hear all about it, so spill the tea 😠😠

Another one to think you taking a test was so dramatic, having to slay a dragon just to get the right answer to a question

And boy is he listening!! (He listens to you more than minjae)

He'd be so awestruck when youre done, his jaw lefted open and hes looking at you with sparkly eyes

Hes so proud of you too :(( ♡

HUNTER ☆

Also think hes like minjae with the gift giving, pulling out this beautiful bracelet he bought months ahead of time because he knew you'd do well

But unlike minjae, he takes you out to dinner!!

Yes, a big, fancy dinner. And hes paying for it all by himself <3

Hunters prince agenda omgomg

No bc he'd drop down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, making sure to look up at you in the process, opens every. Since. Door in sight and also pushes you into your chair. Andd he also leans against the table to wipe something off the corner of your lips, giggling to himself bc youre just so adorable. i could write a whole fic honestly... ♡

YECHAN ☆

You passed your exam? Give him a hug

You got an A?? Give him a hug

You thought you were going to fail? Frowns at you, before hugging you tightly

Spends the rest of the day giving you so much love, youre only allowed to be in his arms

And is the boy so soft??? The most gentle hes ever been ♡

[oodlyenough]

6-3 turnabout... whatever

i finished this case a couple weeks ago but i've been super busy and now also have covid so i haven't gotten around to it. but for posterity. i must document.

this one really tested my patience lol. WHAT a mixed bag.

the good:

maya... i missed u so much .... it's so unbelievably stupid they wrote you out for so long. welcome back babe

the investigation days were genuinely pretty fun. i loved having rayfa as an "assistant" lmao, reminded me of nick investigating with franziska in 3-5 which was PEAK, and i find rayfa herself is perhaps the most compelling new character aa5/6 have thrown at me. phoenix works really well with a horrible little girl having an existential crisis. she is actually imo quite a well-characterized character having a coherent emotional journey that i am interested in. groundbreaking

the lore around khurain and spirit channelling and how the feys are apparently superior to everyone here lol, like, it's all very silly but... i guess.jpeg. there certainly Is a plot at least. the bar is on the ground courtesy of dual destinies

i think the twist at the end here was ... interesting at least. i don't recall having "actually it was a suicide" as a plot resolution before, so kudos for breaking new ground, lol. the puzzles were mostly a decent level of challenge. that there is gameplay and puzzle solving at all is, again, a huge victory over dual destinies.

i don't know what's going on with ema and nahyuta but honestly it's cracking me up. i keep imagining ema consulting the lesbian masterdoc trying to decipher her feelings

however

the bad:

i made a post about it while playing but phoenix is so fucking dumb now!!!!! it used to make me so irritated that fanon treats him like a dumbass but now it's literally canon. grown ass man needs a 14 year old to tell him what moss is. it's SO goddamn annoying to see a plot resolution / twist / answer / whatever four hours ahead of the playable character, who most of the time now never even gets there himself, bc his 1 personality trait now is "bluff". christ. phoenix baby i'm sorry all your traumatic brain injuries are catching up to you it's not your fault this isn't the real you

what is WRONG with the pacing in these cases. honest question. why is it i can go from being like "this is pretty fun" while investigating to "actually i think we should just take the death penalty, nick" in trial. something so so so tedious about how this new guy handles testimony and i can't pinpoint what it is. there were certainly times in the og trilogy i found cases tedious and trying, especially the third cases lol. but this feels... worse? it was that way in AAI1 and DD too so i think it's this particular writer.

speaking of whack pacing: it's insane that after this obviously arc-heavy case, which leaves khurain in disarray and should have given rayfa and nahyuta existential crises, we're going to do a pointless tutorial-style case with athena and blackquill in japanifornia. why the hell. i like athena, but capcom clearly doesn't, and it just makes everything with her kind of excruciating.

[carefulfears]

can you talk about how dd wanted hank to die vs the ending as it is? like. i can't help but love the characters, i wanted them to make it and for things to get better. but things don't really get better? hank tries and sometimes he does better than others. it was always a struggle, and it wasn't just hank. (things i know you've talked about, i just really love what you have to say 💜💜)

i love you so much <33 yeah i think it's a classic "david sowing vs. david reaping" situation in the sense that he's talked about before the magic trick of that character. making him someone that people don't hate. seeing redeeming qualities in him, like loyalty and honesty. putting so much into it, and pulling it off, in a way that doesn't always happen. i really love that character and not because of who he is as a person or any qualification or anything to do with the way we've begun talking about characters in recent years (as though to love a character you have to want to be friends with them) but because i think it's a great character. so much went in to making it a great character.

and because of all of that...you don't want hank moody to die in the end!! i don't want hank moody to die!! but at the same time, duchovny is right. there is this whole alpha male incel culture based around that character (which fascinates me to no end) and a lot of it lacks an understanding of consequence. in duchovny's work and writing, there is always a clear sense of consequence. there are clear morals, a beginning and end, a right and a wrong. he writes fairytales, basically exclusively. and so it makes sense to me that he would want to make sense of this story and character that way, and it makes sense that he never was going to be able to do that. it ultimately just isn't that kind of story.

one of my clearest memories around this show is when you started watching it and you were watching the raw and the cooked, and you were really upset by the ending scene. karen's "angel i love you so, so much" and the break-up and ‘free bird’ and the ring. and you texted me and you kept saying "i love them so much and it's all terrible" and "it was terrible" and "it's insane that i like this man i get why they love him"

and i said "you have to believe that there's a reason why his girls love him so much and you kind of DO." which was kind of the first way that i contextualized that character…you have to accept, if not understand, that there is something in him that people want to save. something worth sticking around for years, weeping on the porch, waiting on the day where everything will “be okay again” (as karen says).

otherwise, it’s just annoying to watch this group of people suffer at the hands of his actions and wait around for more. for that show to work, you have to believe in him. that’s what the first essay that i ever wrote on the series back in october was about, kind of, “the seduction of sunk potential.”

i remember writing that and choosing every word so carefully and thinking of the “sunk cost fallacy,” this concept of sticking with something just because you’ve put too much into it to give up now. and i wrote about what’s “seductive” about hank moody being “sunk potential,” so much in him that could be realized, if only.

that’s a character that always stands out so much to me (especially as someone so idolized by an “alpha male” culture) as being so loving. he’s openly physically and verbally affectionate with his friends, both male and female. i love scenes where he’ll come into charlie’s house and just casually kiss his forehead hello, or want a hug before work. when charlie’s upset hank always holds him. fucking around with marcy, sitting with her legs over his lap (with their spouses and exes in the room). always would walk away from any situation to help someone else. he never left a room without telling his girls and his friends that he loves them (“to my son, the writer. something i never said too much: i love you” / “i love you. i didn’t say it to hear it back.” being the same episode, etc etc). scenes where becca storms out upset with him and he’s just like…. “okay. i love you.” tries again the next day (a lot of that, verbatim, in s4.)

even what i was talking about yesterday with slow happy boys, the way he cries on the beach listening to his old friend talk about his life and health, drops him off at the airport and hugs him goodbye saying “i love you. i love you.” (and his friend being like…… “okay, homo. love you too.”)

“what’s up, mama mia? mind if i join you?” and sitting out on a ledge, offering to help with her writing when it really confused her (“my own father has never so much as offered to help with my homework, so”), the way he always goes to get her and tells her she’s a “good kid” and hugs her goodbye even after everything.

that character was loving in a very specific way that lacked ego (which he had PLENTY of in every other arena so let’s not get crazy), and that isn’t cohesive with the “last real man” archetype that the show catered to and has become associated with.

and that wasn’t necessary to walk the line of keeping him redeemable. keeping him someone that you don’t hate. which they could’ve done in any number of ways, that didn’t risk making him look like a pussy. (a “homo”)

but he has this endearing goodheartedness to him. and my favorite favorite favorite thing about that character, is that it doesn’t matter. it just doesn’t matter.

it all falls second to this extreme cowardice, and weakness, and vice.

it doesn’t matter that he adores those girls and tells them that he loves them every day, when his dad never said it too much. karen tells him that she knows he loves them, but she doesn’t know what that means anymore.

becca says a few times that she knows that she has parents that love her, and that’s a lot, but that her life has been chaotic and hard. there’s that great moment where she says that her first boyfriend makes her feel beautiful, and hank says very matter-of-fact that she is beautiful, and she rolls her eyes that she is not. and he makes her stop and tells her to never say that, that she’s “the most beautiful thing in the world” to him, and she tells him to treat her that way then.

when she asks if he’s ever felt like he has no one and nothing, and he says that he used to feel like that but now has her. and she asks why she still has nothing.

he can pull mia off every ledge for her whole life, shove and threaten every predatory man around her, help her with every writing assignment and forgive her every sin- but he did not tell a grownup what was going on with her.

he played her game. he kept their secret. he does not ultimately save or protect her, and he does it to save and protect himself.

that’s what keeps me coming back to this character. and i imagine that it’s what keeps his loved ones in LA. there is very easily something good there, something worth saving, but it isn’t winning. and as a viewer you can know that it’s not going to, but it doesn’t feel that way while watching.

and so when you think about this question of like…..how should it all have ended? narratively, he should’ve failed. if not death, something like the ending of season 4. i love that scene so much: hank walking through the film set hugging marcy, making charlie laugh. seeing visions everywhere of karen, and becca, and mia. versions of them that aren’t there anymore, that maybe don’t exist anymore. riding off into the sunset alone in the porsche, typewriter in the backseat.

it’s a good ending. not perfect, maybe not even narratively sound. he doesn’t die, doesn’t really lose, except for the fact that he’s alone. which is really the one thing he never wanted to be: “a morning of awkwardness is far better than a night of loneliness.”

but how much are you really going to get, on a showtime comedy? this isn’t a david duchovny novel. isn’t one of his x-files episodes, isn’t one of his films. he talks all the time about how he wanted hank moody to die because he didn’t want him to get away with it, and maybe that’s part of what’s causing so much of the cultural reputation and harmful rhetoric around men. but you’re never really going to realistically get that on this type of show, and perhaps more troubling, you’re never really going to want it.