#great fuckin stuff - ANYWAY remembered what i actually wanted to say
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#i’m a little drunk so forgive me please but#idk if it’s like.. bc i’ve been kinda down/moody anyway recently or if it’s bc i was gone for a week or bc i’ve finally picked up on it or#what - but i feel like legit kinda isolated now in work.. not in like some awful everyone deffo hates me way but in that bs olivia laing way#like it’s taken me way too long to notice that i’m not doing a good enough job making fuckn work-friends or whatever the fuck#& it’s so hard to say if that’s like. a me issue or if that’s bc fuckin almost all the people i work w are guys so i’m not a real person t#*to them!! probs fuckin both lbr - but it’s rly not helping shit yk#bc as soon as u go in knowing that ppl are talking 2 u for politeness then ur quieter so u look worse so there’s less talking etc etc etc#great fuckin stuff - ANYWAY remembered what i actually wanted to say#which was that i went to get some drinks w a friend earlier this week and god i wish i could like. this week just do ANYTHING#get properly pissed! see people & shit properly again; i miss having a proper social life and i’ve litch never had one#this is best left to be forgotten#so let’s not tag it lol - but anyway; anyone know how to make proper friends as an adult as a compulsive nonsharer & someone w/o interests!
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More Moiraine & Lan (and the Bond) thoughts, because I really just can’t help myself.
Just thinking about how we know every Aes Sedai and Warder share the Bond, but we don’t see any other AS/Warder teams using it as a form of communication NEARLY as much as Moiraine and Lan do.
Like these mofos are having full conversations with head tilts and tiny eyebrow raises and 3 seconds of eye contact from the jump. Sometimes not even looking at each other. And it’s extra great if you’re a show only like me because you only realize it when you go back later after all the stuff with the Bond is explained in 1x04/1x05. Like I remember thinking when I was first watching the pilot ‘wow, these two are really in sync, clearly they’ve known each other a long time,’ but it’s so much more than that obviously.
Now, one easy explanation for this is that we’re just seeing them the most, they’re main characters, and s1 especially does a lot of work hyping up the Bond and how important it is so that we get the full impact of them being cut off later. Makes sense.
But… idk like even Alanna and Ihvon and Maksim, who are actually in a romantic relationship, don’t seem to prefer the Bond as a way to communicate. We even see them have their little diplomatic discussion before Ihvon goes to follow Tomas. It’s an actual conversation. Maksim even prefers the Bond masked, so I guess in that way they kind of have to talk to each other.
Verin and Tomas are pretty quiet in general, but still it’s not emphasized that they use the Bond to communicate that much. Perhaps this is also highlighted by Tomas’s advice to Lan that the Bond isn’t the only common language they share with their Aes Sedai.
Except for Moiraine and Lan, it’s like AT LEAST 80%. It’s the primary way they communicate. Because 1. they’re both so naturally reserved on the outside (but feel very deeply on the inside), and 2. I imagine it comes in handy to be extra good at it when you’re on the road searching for the Dragon Reborn and you don’t want everyone around you to know what you’re about.
Then there’s Stepin’s comment from s1 to Kerene, “Can you imagine their dinners?” Which is funny but also very telling. To all the other Aes Sedai and Warders, Moiraine and Lan seem pretty cold and distant, to everyone else and each other. But again, that’s by design to protect their mission. They’re just having conversations no one else can see, even other Bonded pairs. It’s like most AS and their Warders use the Bond as insurance, a fail safe even, to understand and communicate with each other, with normal human communication (i.e. TALKING) as the primary method. But for Moiraine and Lan it’s the other way around.
My POINT BEING, that this adds weight to their storyline in S2. Like they are REALLY struggling because on top of everything else, this fundamental piece of their relationship and communication is just gone. And it opens a door for Moiraine to push Lan away, when she NEVER would have been able to before, practically or emotionally. And he reels from her attacks because he’s just not as good at understanding her without the Bond, when he would have seen right through that shit before, just from feeling alone. So Tomas can say to him, you need to really listen, but 20 years of shared emotional mind reading is not that easy to bypass. You don’t learn normal person communication skills overnight. Certainly not when there’s this gaping hole in your head/heart where another person you probably knew better than yourself should be but isn’t.
Anyway, I think it just adds even more credence to why they’re both so lost throughout most of S2, especially Lan. And what makes them so badass with the Bond but so absolutely uncoordinated without it. And why every other Aes Sedai/Warder thinks they’re fuckin weird. And why we love them, because who doesn’t want to be so fundamentally understood like that? Who doesn’t want their own secret language with someone that no one else really gets, but that person gets you on a level so real it can’t be replaced? That’s what we’re all reaching for, and that’s what they have with each other. For better or worse.
#other aes sedai and warders: talking 80% / Bond 20%#Moiraine and Lan: Bond 80% / body language 15% / talking 5%#so extra#but I imagined it just happened for them#it wasn’t intentional#but then they got too used to it and couldn’t stop#and they never thought they’d have to#and then they finally get it back and it’s like they become whole people again#like you can see what a missing limb it was once they’re finally back on their game#jfc these two#wheel of time#the wheel of time#moiraine damodred#lan mandragoran#wot on prime#wot
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My King Will Be Kind Chapter 1 / Kendall Roy x OC
an: hiiiiiiiii first time posting here ughhhh anyways enjoy this kendall fic bc i binged succession with my roommate
pairing: Kendall Roy x Original Female Character
tw: mentions of drug use, cursing
Stella fixed her black Valentino dress in the bathroom mirror of the club. She looked okay. Not bad, not great. It was hour three at the club, and Stella was really over it. The bass felt like it was pumping through the walls. She needed a break from the craziness. It was usually like this, work all week and stupid events like this all weekend. And this weekend was her friend's birthday.
Not that she didn't love her friends—or the free drinks. And the guys could be fun...sometimes. Tonight they partied with some semi-professional baseball players who were okay at best. One even tried to follow her into the bathroom, but she declined.
Even now, four movies and two shows under her belt, Stella struggled to a guy that actually gave a fuck. Her most recent role, a side character in HBO's Delirium, was by-far her biggest break. They had just wrapped season two, so she was taking some time in New York to work on her writing. By dumb luck a studio was interested in her writing and wanted some pilots. After spending the last few years in Los Angeles, Stella decided to come back to the east coast for a bit.
So here she was now, walking back from the bathroom of some club, trying to think of the best excuse to leave the party and get the fuck home. Stella weaved through the VIP line, arriving at the private section where her friends were. The baseball guys were still evident, but two other men--in very expensive suits--stood with the group. She made her way over, grabbing a drink from the waiter. It was time to find the birthday girl and say goodbye. Stella spied her friend from across the room, but was interrupted by one of the suit-men. She immediately recognized him.
"Roman Roy." He stuck out his hand.
Roman Roy. Son of media bigwig Logan Roy. Stella knew exactly who he was. Not that she was a big fan of business stuff, but she knew all about ATN and their hateful broadcasting. She knew all about his billionaire family and their insane antics.
She shook his hand reluctantly.
"So you're a big deal I hear?" He laughed. "Well I've never heard of you."
"I've been in a few movies—" She started, but is again interrupted by him.
"Argh, actress, never mind." Roman scoffed at her and made his way to another one of her friends.
Stella was just drunk enough to feel pretty embarrassed. Normally, she would brush something like this off, but he was an important person in the city. The Roy's could make or break her career if they really wanted to. They controlled the media. Hell, they were the media.
"Hey. I'm sorry about my brother." A deep voice said from her side. "He's a fuck."
Stella looked at the man who was now in front of her. The first thing she noticed was how tired he looked. The second was that he was Kendall Roy. And he was just as hot in person.
"Oh, um, it's okay."
"I'm Kendall, by the way." He held out his hand. He had a fancy ring on his pinkie finger.
"Stella."
"Matchstick Funeral." He said.
Stella couldn't help but light up. "Yes!"
It was one of her first roles. She played Jude Law's estranged daughter. That was three years ago, now.
"It's my uh, ex-wife's favorite movie."
Stella laughs, accidentally. "Sorry, um, wow, I feel like a lot of people don't remember that film."
"It's so fuckin good."
"God, thank you, wow."
They stood there for a minute.
Stella decided to play dumb. "So what do you do?"
Kendall laughed nervously. "Uh—"
Stella batted her eyelashes, then laughed, "I'm kidding, jeez!"
"Oh," Kendall smiled. "I suppose you're familiar."
"With the sexual abuse on the cruises?" She continues. "Or your rap song?"
Kendall scoffs.
"Before I was, um, like this." Stella gets quieter. "I loved celebrities and all that. I read like, every magazine." It was true, she loved stealing her mother's People Magazine as a kid.
"Ah, I'm surprised you're even talking to me, then."
"Me too."
"Do you wanna uh, go outside?"
She was still a little unsure about him, but she wasn't really a fan of crowds and honestly really needed to smoke.
"Yeah, sure."
Kendall led her to a private balcony. Stella had never been to this part of the club, even with her own notoriety.
"Do you smoke?" Kendall revealed a pack of American Spirit yellow.
"Well," Stella rummaged through her Prada purse. "Not nicotine." She pulled out a joint.
"Need a light?" Kendall asked, moving towards her. Stella put the joint in her mouth, leaning over to Kendall's lighter. She pulled away quickly after, the scene becoming more and more intimate.
This was the same guy that yelled "Fuck the Patriarchy" to paparazzi last year. And he could be her dad. He probably wasn't that old, but he had to be a good ten years older. At least. She remembered the tabloid photos of him snorting cocaine off of a strippers boobs. Didn't he have a couple of kids, too?
Stella took a long drag of her joint.
"Can I get a hit?" Kendall stated, and it's as if they're teenagers hiding weed from their parents.
She nodded, handing him the joint. He didn't look like he was on anything else, so she obliged.
He took a long drag and looked her up and down. She felt objectified, but it kind of turned her on. Kendall probably knew that.
"I bought a fucking company today."
"What?"
"Me and my siblings. We bought Pierce." She kind of knew what he was talking about, based on the Twitter trending page from that morning. #Roy was third on the page.
Stella laughed, "Congrats, Kendall." She touched his arm, mentally noting to stop drinking and smoking so much. It was crazy to her, all this. He casually dropped billions of dollars and goes to the club.
"If I called a car right now, would you want to uh, go to my place?"
Stella couldn't believe it. Kendall fucking Roy.
"I don't really do that sort of thing, I'm sorry. It's like an image thing, and I'm so young I can't—"
"Of course." He looked genuinely disappointed.
Stella cursed internally as she whispered, "do you want my number?"
"What?"
Stella rolled her eyes. "You heard me."
"Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it again." He smirked.
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S2: E1 "In My Time of Dying"
Brought to you by hi, I'm not dead, just very sleepy a lot because of school. Finally answered all those anons, now an episode. Just for you guys.
This episode featuring: Dean's on strike 2 with the near death nonsense, Sam's psychic-ing needs work, don't fear the reaper, and Certified Dad Moments
Woooo recap
[ Kayla: CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SOOOON ]
WHSHSHSH THE RADIO GOING as they're like half dead in the car
Oop there goes the demon
Oh no the poor guy that was posessed
RIP Sam is the only one still conscious
Morning sleeping beauty
Hm. Maybe? Creepy empty hospital? Whats up here
[ Silas: color theory ]
Is Dean having one of them out of body experiences
HE SURE IS I CALLED IT
Cmon Sam aren't you psychic
[ Anniss snickers, having apparently forgotten what this guy gets up too. Yeah Sam's just sort of psychic and it's only relevant like half the time. ]
Dean's standing here like AAA IM RIGHT HERE GODDAMMIT
Sooo true Sam but like yeah it is important
Protection since they might be attacked at any time
Dean (out of body) judging their Dad
OH NO THE CAR
Whshshsgsgsv where's Dean is he going MY CARRR
Ohhh Sam are u projecting onto the car
Ohh Bobby knows someth too... what are they hidiiing
Dean is like I WANT TO BE ACTUALLY AWAKE THIS ISN'T FAIR
Oooough hes yelling at his dad... who can't hear him........
UH OH
Somethin zoomed by
Is Dean gonna have to outrun Death or someth... who dis
Hmmmmm thats not good
UH OHH
Oh they are fighting and now Dean can't intervene
OH Dean can knock stuff around!!
WJSHSH DEAN
Uh oh Dean
OH NO
Bitch slap it bitch slap it
Oh Sam is picking up on somthing now!
Okay so there is something haunting the hospital
Dean is going to literally be fighting for his life
Oh someone else is stuck like this!! Hi Tessa! Out of body funtime party! Trying not to die!
Oh whatcha grabbin Sam?
Whshshs now we are just vibing as out-of-body spirits
Oh the spooky! The evil spooky!
Hmmm
Whatcha got there Sam are u gonna put it on Dean to try and talk to him
WAIT DOES HE HAVE
HAHAHAHAHHAA
OUIJA BOARD THATS SO FUNNY
Dean is so offended and put off
"Hunt"
"Reaper"
Hough
:(
Uh oh John is Gone
Ur a terrible father sir
[ Crepe says this is his highest point in being a father, which is terribly ominous. ]
Just a little light Demon Summoning
U h O h
ohhhhh
John buddy what the hell. Literally! Lol. Since we're summoning shit
Hello Demon(s)
MAKE A DEAL?
I don't like this but I guess we have to start somewheeeere
"You can't leave me here alone with Dad, we'll kill each other, you know that" wjshsj love functional families
"We were just starting to be brothers again" AUGH :((
WHSHSHS SHES JUST GIVING HIM THE STAGES OF GRIEF
Damn this is heavy
A Warrior's Death
Ohh. OH THATS HOW ANGRY SPIRITS ARE BORN..... Wough.........
The Colt for Dean.......
Hm? Sam and the other children? Whats the deallll
[ Crepe and Melon are hyping up the upcoming Father Moment. ]
Oh no! Oh boy! Im a fear!
I kind of like this Reaper tbh she's just. Nice. Talking people through their deaths.
[ Crepe says they all do that. ]
Yeah I guess the last one was leashed and pissed about it
OH NO
what the fuck
The doctor: Hm well thats fucking bizarre
Dean doesn't remember????
"Except this pit in my stomache saying something's wrong..."
Hm
Hmm
John: (apologizes and asks not to fight)
Sam: Are you good?? You okay???
(The answer is no)
GOD. Being about to die is one helluva wakeup call. BASTARD
Dean: ??? Fear?? Worried??? Dad what?????
Oh hes telling him someth
???
Dramatically drops the coffee
Howd u drop it upright
Time of death 10:41 AM
Well damn!
Great start to season 2: Dads fuckin dead!
---
I guess that's one hell of a way to kick things off for the season, but damn. Like, after all that work they put into trying to find their dad, then trying to help him, save him... and he dies anyways. So Dean can live.
Crepe and Melon spent several more messages just roasting the hell out of John Winchester, which, while it's probably fair, rather took away from the emotion of the scene LMAO
So uh. Gonna be interesting to see how they go forward from here and what their goal will be.
So. Dad Winchester is dead, the Colt has been taken by That Specific Demon alongside its last bullet, and Dean and Sam are here and traumatized. Interesting.
#on the highway to superhell#spn#supernatural#what a fuckin ride#was kind of funny watching Dean wander around after Sam going 'hey. hey. look at me. use ur psychic powers.'#also need you guys to know Angel With A Shotgun came on while i was compiling all this stuff#thats a song u guys go nuts about right
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INITIAL SITDOWNS
It wasn’t until Jesse was sitting down, staring back at two police officers that he thought that maybe he’d made a mistake. He’d called his father’s lawyer, Francesca Milano, but when she’d said she’d have to let his father know, he’d told her to forget it. The great, beloved Jerry Springer wannabe of a father was almost definitely fucking her, so she was out. He was on thin ice where his father was concerned anyway, and the last thing he needed was him breathing down his neck over this. Not when the stuff with Greer and Jacqui had the potential to blow up in his face.
No, he’d been assured that these were just routine. A lawyer wasn’t necessary. Now, though, as he looked between the two uniformed officers, he was beginning to think he’d made the wrong choice.
So, he called on his charm, leaning casually across his chair as he stretched his long legs out before himself, a devil-may-care hint of a smirk playing at his lips. He’d bullshitted his way through less. They weren’t looking at him, they were simply looking for answers. He’d give them just enough to lead them in circles chasing their own tails.
“When did you last speak to Greer?”
Jesse tried to imagine the advice Francesca would give had she been here. She’d have probably advised him not to say anything at all, but that would just make him look guilty. So maybe he’d compromise. Less was more. He could give a little without really giving anything worth implicating himself over. “Uhhh,” His eyes rolled towards the ceiling as he tried to think exactly when he’d spoken to her last. “Probably last day of classes? We sorta jet off to opposite coasts so kinda pointless to stay in touch over the summer.”
“When did you last actually see Greer?”
“Same as before. Last day of classes,” he answered immediately, though a smirk threatened to tug at the corners of his mouth as he remembered fondly the way that grass had stuck to her knees, making little indentions as proof of what they’d done behind the boathouse. They didn’t need to hear that part, though.
“How well did you know Greer?”
If he hadn’t had full control of himself in that moment, he probably would have laughed. How well did he know Greer? He was intimately familiar. “I mean, we never stayed up all night painting each other’s nails and waxing poetic about the future. We liked to party together. It didn’t really go deeper than that.”
“What was your relationship with Greer like?”
There were a lot of things he could say to answer this question. He could talk about the sneaking around, the late nights, the parties. But he knew better than that, knew that this was the kind of question that needed a very simple answer. “We had fun together.”
“Have you heard or seen anything about where she was this summer?”
“No,” Jesse said with a shrug. “Like I said, we kind of went our separate ways over the summer. I was busy with my own stuff back home, I assumed she was busy with the same.” That could have been the end of that, but Jesse had a score to settle. And really, it was a bit of harmless fun. For him, anyway. “You know, I might be wrong, but I think she grew up with Nathaniel Shaw? He’s a junior here too. I’ve seen them talking and shit, we all live in the same building.” He smiled, the picture of a boy who’d done his due diligence. “He might have something a little more solid for you, officers.”
“You wouldn’t have wanted Greer to disappear, would you?”
Knuckles knocked out a rhythm on the cork wood table as Jesse sat there lounging in the uncomfortable metal chair. One ankle hooked over a knee, his lackadaisical posture gave nothing away, even as the question found a tightness blooming somewhere low in the pit of his stomach, his mind returning to that night. But as his eyes tracked the features of his interviewer lazily, his brows furrowed as though he couldn’t believe that was even a question, as if he were granting them a favor to even deign to answer it. “You’re fuckin’ kidding, right? Greer’s the life of the party. It’s just not the same without her around. It’s kinda like a missing limb, you know?”
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Davepetasprite^2, Jade Harley
Act 6, page 8003-8007
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < JADE!!!!!
JADE: d-
JADE: davesprite???
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < B33
JADE: youre alive!
JADE: and... very different :o
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < its davepeta actually
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and yeah i am different!
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < got this whole other person mixed up in me
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < her name was nepeta
JADE: ohh...
JADE: wow!!!
JADE: im so happy to see you, even if you have gone through some uh... pretty big changes!
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah!
JADE: so what are you doing here?
JADE: are you asleep too?
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nah im awake
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and like "actually here" and stuff
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < guess i just decided to fly away up to the sun like a fucking piece of garbage after all
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < like i always said i would
JADE: haha
JADE: you did?
JADE: i dont remember that
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah i said stuff like that sometimes
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < jade i used to be fairly depressed
JADE: yeah...
JADE: well i DO remember that
JADE: you seem to be in pretty high spirits now though :)
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yes im doing fucking phenomeownal
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but fur real im not actually here to visit this sun
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i flew here as a point of reference to get my bearings
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < im actually on my way to go fight lord english
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < have you s33n him
JADE: no
JADE: ive spent the last... however long, hiding from him actually
JADE: with calliope
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < who
JADE: shes my new friend!
JADE: well, i guess one of two new friends by that name, technically
JADE: one of them is presumably back with our friends now
JADE: the other just... quite literally flew away up to the sun
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < like a fucking piece of garbage???
JADE: NO :P
JADE: she is quite dignified and aloof as a matter of fact
JADE: i sincerely doubt she has ever done ANYTHING like a piece of garbage
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < ok heheheh
JADE: anyway if you want to find him
JADE: i would guess all you have to do is follow his trail of destruction
JADE: see the cracks?
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < oh yeah
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < good point
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < guess i could sniff him out
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < except i dont know what he smells like
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but i guess i do know what some people who will be NEAR him smell like
JADE: like who?
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < vwiskers, for one!
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < also supposedly a staggering dick ton of ghosts
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < ill just smell around for where the ghosts are all at
JADE: sounds like a good plan!
JADE: jeez dave i...
JADE: or davepeta rather
JADE: i missed you so much :(
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < awwww
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < sorry harley
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < id say i missed you too but it was barely a day ago i last saw you
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < this version of me i mean
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i made it all the way through the thr33 year voyage with you
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < guess the one who made the trip with you wasnt so lucky huh
JADE: no
JADE: he and john died not long after we departed
JADE: i was so lonely
JADE: but i dont feel too bad now that i know it all worked out, and their deaths were just part of something bigger going on
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < right johns absurd time hoppy mission
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so fuckin glad some non dave dude could finally grab the reins on the time travel bs
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and i guess im purrsonally so grateful to him because without his succession of handwavey dorkstunts i wouldnt have become davepeta which is literally the best thing either of us has ever b33n!
JADE: thats great!
JADE: its so nice to see youre happy now
JADE: even if technically i never got to be a part of that journey for you
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but you did
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < ive got a lot of different dave memories in me and theyre all part of who i am now
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < including the memories you contributed to
JADE: oh...
JADE: cool!
JADE: so what were things like in the timeline youre from?
JADE: how was our trip together?
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < it was good mostly
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < kinda turbulent i guess
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but that was mostly on account of me being a miserable bird douche
JADE: haha
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < oh also we dated for a while
JADE: WHAT? :O
JADE: omg
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < it was nice for a while but then i put a stop to that
JADE: why?
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < s33 again: bird douche
JADE: wow
JADE: i cant believe i missed this :(
JADE: even if it didnt go that well
JADE: its still something i would have gladly taken over the loneliness of that trip
JADE: i cant even say how much i thought about you both
JADE: and to hear that you and i actually...
JADE: *sniff*
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < B??
JADE: im sorry dave...
JADE: davepeta...
JADE: i guess calliope is right, this must be part of my path
JADE: as a space player... someone who "falls back" as she said
JADE: maybe being pushed aside by fate, and like
JADE: being deprived of important people and experiences
JADE: no matter how painful it is, or how much you feel like you need them
JADE: i guess thats just how it goes for us
JADE: i think i never appreciated how much of a burden your aspect was to you
JADE: but i think im starting to get it now
JADE: it just took a long time to figure out what mine really meant
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so THATS what space means?
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < bein lonely??
JADE: thats a bit of an oversimplification!
JADE: but i think that can be one of the results of gaining a deeper understanding of it
JADE: or becoming connected to it more...
JADE: i dunno, this stuff is all pretty mysterious :p
JADE: i dont have it all figured out yet obviously
JADE: i just feel pretty sad that as i get closer to understanding my abilities and true nature
JADE: it apparently means being deprived of some important experiences
JADE: like i get closer to my aspect, but further away from everyone i love, and further from...
JADE: feeling like a person?
JADE: its just a really empty feeling after a while
JADE: empty like...
JADE: space i guess
JADE: heh
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but you werent actually deprived of important experiences
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < stuff like us dating and johns stupid birthday parties and playing shitty ghostbuster mmos
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < that stuff all happened to you, its just you dont have access to the memories
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < they didnt happen to shape this particular version of yourself
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but they all played a role in helping like "greater jade" grow if that makes sense
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < everything that ever happens to every version of you is an important part of your ultimate self... like a superceding bodyless and timeless persona that crosses the boundaries of paradox space and unlike god tiers or bubble ghosts or whatever, it really IS immortal
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but in your physical form there are all these partitions in your mind that prevent you from remembering any of that which makes your existence f33l totally linear
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < which is probably for the best!
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in a regular body s33ing all that would be too overwhelming
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in an advanced sprite form like mine tho its fine
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i guess the same spritey magic that makes it possible to suddenly understand so much is also what makes it possible to make it bearable all at once
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < not even just bearable actually sorta liberating and cool
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and after it sinks in for a while you start coming to this understanding of a greater self
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe i "got it" quicker though because of the two people i was and their aspects
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < understanding heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nepeta never got to make much headway with her aspect but shes finally gettin the chance
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the time aspect is all about running into different versions of yourself so you kinda get confronted with it in a really literal way that can be disturbing
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < obviously davesprite stuggled with that too, but now its fine
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hes fr33 from worrying about it all and what it means for his place in reality
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < because he can s33 now all his selves have relevance in painting the full picture of who he truly is
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < im not COMPLETELY sure because im not like some sort of ASPECT MASTER but
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < my avian slash feline intuition tells me that all roads will lead you here eventually
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < gaining the d33pest possible understanding of any aspect will bring you to the same final conclusion about your ultimate self
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so maybe thats starting to happen for you too
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the space aspect sounds like a hard and lonely road to travel... i think they probably all are
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but youre gettin there jade
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you are doing great and im so proud of you!
JADE: :')
JADE: thanks davepeta
JADE: i really cant believe it
JADE: you sound so different... but youre still dave in a way
JADE: its hard to say how happy it makes me to see you doing well
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah likewise!
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i mean assuming you are doing well
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < ARE you???
JADE: i... think so
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hey what are you doing out here anyway
JADE: im asleep
JADE: i want to go join our friends and help out
JADE: but im not supposed to wake up :\
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < why not
JADE: i dunno
JADE: im just not!
JADE: calliope said i was too strong or something
JADE: but she also said i should have "fun" so
JADE: i dunno
JADE: i guess im just waiting around for the right moment
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nah thats dumb
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you should be able to do whatever you want
JADE: really?
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < well at least she was right about the having fun part
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe thats what she meant??
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe she was leaving it up to you in a mysterious way
JADE: leaving what up to me?
JADE: the decision to wake up?
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < sure why not
JADE: but i dont know how!
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i do
JADE: .....
#homestuck#davepetasprite^2#jade harley#homestuck act 6#page 8003#page 8004#page 8005#page 8006#page 8007#homestuck act 6 act 6#homestuck act 6 act 6 intermission 5
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Chapter 1: The Hesperides
My best friend (@ozarkgobbler) is editing this and she caught a lot of really stupid mistakes, so thank you for not letting make an idiot of myself on the internet!!! Anyway, this is the next chapter of my thingy. I'd love to hear what you want/don't want to happen, or if you think the main character is annoying or not. Thanks for reading!
Note: I did some editing, so now instead of being a dodgy place, the Hesperides is more swanky and uptight. I think it fits better, so just know I changed it from the original.
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I remember watching Sweeny Todd once and thinking to myself: if this isn't peak Tim Burton. Black and white and goth all over. But, standing at the entrance to the park, I see he's not too far off about London. It's pretty bleak. The cobblestone streets are caked with filth, and mice are rampant. Now, would I say it's a hole in the world like a great black pit? I mean, that's pretty harsh.
What's weirding me out is the clothes, more than anything. Those who are out and about this early are dressed to the nines, it seems, with stiff collars and petticoats and bonnets. No skinny jeans or sweatpants? Not even that one white guy wearing jorts no matter the weather? Suspicious. Street lamps line the sidewalk, with actual candles inside of them (although they must have been put out by now, since none are burning). A horse-drawn carriage comes across into view, trotting down the street. Weird, is it like a tourist-y taxi service? There's a boy, probably early teens, standing on the corner with a jacket reading a newspaper and smoking from a pipe. I approach him casually.
"Heya, what'cha doing?" I try to keep my language calm. I don't want to freak the kid out, being a stranger approaching him, but he is actually smoking. Are his parents around here somewhere? He looks up and sets the paper down, taking the pipe from his mouth.
"A paper's two pence," he remarks enthusiastically, holding out his hand. Oh buddy, when was the last time you washed your hands? Dirt is caked under his fingernails and in the lines of his hands. It takes a second for my mind to get over the hygiene and I shake my head in disbelief.
"Did you say two pence?" I think that's like… two pennies or something, in UK currency. There's no way a newspaper costs so little.
"Yes ma'am. Bes' paper in London," he asserts like it was a line he's said many times before.
"Cool. Do your parent's know you're smoking? That stuff's bad for you," I mention, trying to put on my adult voice and get back to the matter at hand. I don't think it works, as the kid scrunches up his nose like I said something stupid.
"Wha'cha mean? You batty or somethin' lady? Get lost or buy a paper!" he exclaims, putting the pipe back in his mouth and crossing his arms as he sits on the stack of papers, eyeing me with an annoyed glare.
"Look, I don't want to get you in trouble, but smoking is very dangerous," I attempt again, and the kid shakes his head in disbelief.
"You my mum or somethin'?"
I am not getting chewed out by a pre-teen right now. "Look bub, all I'm saying is that when you're thirty five and have the fuckin' black lung and ten different types of cancer, don't go crying and wishing someone would've told you that smoking is bad for your health."
He scoffs and rolls his eyes, and I sigh in reply. Where do kids get the audacity to talk to grown-ups with all the sass? I would've never done this as a child. "Anyway, can you tell me where I am?"
"Mayfair, are you daft?" He asks like it's obvious.
"No, I'm just lost," I explain.
"Two pence for directions."
"I don't have British money."
At this he looks at first with mild disgust, then an odd curiosity. "American money, then?"
"Yeah."
"Lemme see."
"Hell no," I reply, holding my purse away from him. "I don't trust gremlins that smoke."
He stands up and tries to reach for my purse. I reach around him and grab a paper while he jumps, pulling my satchel behind my back so he can't reach it. "Hey, me paper!"
"I'll give it back, this is important," I correct, raising my eyebrows to say, 'Bet you wish I was nicer again, huh? Nah, that ship sailed. I look at the date: April 24th, 1884. Bullshit. "Hey, what's up with this?"
"Wot do ya mean?" He snatches the paper away from me.
"I mean why does the year say 1884? Is it a weird typo or something?"
"Lady, you are batty, It is 1884!" he states like it's obvious, and I mean…
Okay, so, the cobblestone streets, the paper being suspiciously cheap, the fancy dress clothes, the carriage. It makes sense that it would be 1884. However, logically, there's no fucking way. I mean, I'm still a little fuzzy on… pretty much everything, but that has to be at least a century before I was even born. There's no way this is like a holiday or something where the entirety of the capital of England pretends they're back in the 1800's, so…
Yeah, I got nothing. I pretty much just have to play along until I figure out what the hell is going on. I need to blend in until I find Doctor-Fucking Who or Marty McFly. Stop with the pop culture references, you're annoying me. Okay, humor is my coping mechanism, firstly, and secondly, you are my inner monologue, so we're the same person. Yeah, but now you sound crazy.
I shake my head to get rid of the intrusive thoughts and look around. Smog above the rooftops that blend into the cumulonimbus clouds, the smell of stale pee wafting around but getting stronger when facing towards the houses, and then in the street there's a pile of horse dung just sitting there that I didn't notice before. Rubbing my eyes to give my brain a moment to process it, I turn back to the newspaper boy. If I give him one of my pennies, will that fuck up the timeline? What choice do I have? I mean, I could not buy a paper, but I need to know what the H is going on.
"Can I borrow that for a minute if I let you see an American penny?"
"The paper?" The boy clarifies, and I nod. The wheels in his head turn as he mulls over my proposition. "Fine."
Snapping open my coin purse, I dig around for a penny, and hand it to him. He ogles it and I pick up the newspaper. The headlines are mostly political (but not comprehensible from an outsider's view— what is a Tori?) and some information about horse races. I flip the page and blink at what I read:
Wanted: Assistant Detective
Pay: £ 5 per case basis
Qualifications: Good planner, quick study, hearty conversationalist, dry humor.
If Interested: Seek Madea Thorne at The Hesperides
"What's the Hespierides?" I ask, sounding out the word.
"A pub near here," the boy explains. There's a special place in hell for whoever decided to name a bar something that hard to say. Imagine saying it drunk. It sounds kind of promising though. I look back to the newsie, who's stares at the penny then looks to me with a disenchanted face. "'S just a coin, innit?"
"Yeah, pretty much," I agree, and hold my hand back for it. He returns it and grabs the paper, tucking it under his arm. "Do you know where the Hesperides is?"
"It's that way—" he turns and points down the street, then cocks his head to the side. "Then you go thattaway—"
"Can you take me there?"
"You daft?" He turns back to me. "I can't leave the papers!"
"No need to be rude, young man," I scold, and he scrunches up his mouth. "What street do I turn on?"
"Regent street. You be careful, miss."
"Why's that?"
"The Hesperides is a swanky place, it is. I wouldn't be surprised if you got thrown out, if you take my meaning."
"Oh, great," I sigh. I mean, there's not much else I can do at this point, right? Maybe I look bad, but if I'm meeting someone there for a job then we could at least go somewhere else. Being with a detective, maybe they've seen something strange or have a theory as to what's going on. As far as my options go:
Get a job as a detective's assistant, which seems pretty cool. See if I can glean anything weird around London in terms of time-travelers.
See a doctor and talk about how I think I'm from the future, get sent to an insane asylum, and get lobotomized.
Go to the police and talk about how I think I'm from the future, get sent to an insane asylum, and get lobotomized.
…?
Go to Iceland and become a goat? There it is again, using humor as a coping mechanism. Shut up
Seems pretty straight-forward. I hold out my hand to the kid for a fist bump and he seems confused. I clench my other hand and show him what to do. "It's an American thing, like this."
He punches the air in front of him with excitement, and I properly fist bump him. "There you go, attaboy."
He smiles, then looks down at the pipe he was smoking.
"You seem like a bright kid, I think it would be a shame if you got hurt later on in life because you made poor decisions now. You should stop smoking," I encourage, readjusting my satchel. He shrugs.
"Nah, what do you know anyway?" He argues. Does this kid like me or not? Like, we shared a fist bump, dude.
"Alright, little man, but I warned you." I say ominously, widening my eyes dramatically for effect. He rolls his eyes and I smile a little bit. Although he's a pesky squirt, he gives off pretty good little brother vibes. "What street am I turning on again?"
"Regent!" He replies, then scrunches up his nose. "You know, you never paid for the directions."
"Next time I see you I'll let you hold a quarter," I promise, winking slyly as I carry on. The boy looks unimpressed.
"You's a batty lady and a cheapskate!" He calls after me.
"Watch your mouth before I call your mother," I threaten, which presumably does the trick as he doesn't say anything back. I head down the street and listen as a clock chimes somewhere in the distance, yet resonates with all the matter around me. Dong! One, I count, trying to find the sign for 'Regent Street', but not seeing one yet. Dong! Two, I just need to walk a little while longer. My feet ache from my trek in the forest. I'm beginning to notice bug bites on my arms and the backs of my shins. Dong! Three. The guy at the park said it was five thirty earlier, so it's probably around six, right? Dong! Four. A black bird caws and flies down from one of the rooftops, landing down on the sidewalk and hopping over to one of the buildings. Dong! Five. It pecks at a couple blades of grass in between the stones of the road. Upon finding nothing, it begins to take flight again. Dong! That's six.
The sign for Regent Street is a simple pole on the side of the road with a wooden slate on it in the shape of an arrow pointing left and right. Another horse-and-buggy comes into view and I wave to the driver, unsure which way to turn.
"Care for a ride, miss? Just a quid if it's not too far," he explains, slowing the horse down. My feet are killing me, but I still have no usable money.
"No, thank you. Can you tell me which way the…" Fuck, I forgot the name of the place. "It sounds kinda Greek, starts with an H. Hesperides?"
"Aye, ma'am. The Hesperides is just down thattaway—" he points to my left, "Though, looking the way you do, I doubt you would have much business there."
"I'm just meeting someone!," I explain. Geez, this must be a pretty high-end place. I doubt a bar is going to be open so soon, I think as I reach the adjacent sidewalk, but continue along anyway. I could just wait outside. Does the UK have laws against loitering? A couple people exit through the buildings lining the road, two women and a man all from different doors, but only a couple moments apart from each other. One of the women in a gray dress shakes out an umbrella and then uses it as a cane to help her get down the steps as well as grabbing the bannister and creeping down slowly. The man holds the door open impatiently, then a little scottish terrier trots out happily. I can't help but smile at how cute the little guy is, hopping down the steps of his house and then waiting for his owner to lock the door behind him. It seems like the houses and the stores are mixed in together, with little apartments smushed between store signs for hats or deli meats.
The Hesperides, on the other hand, is a stand alone building with a wide window at the front, showing a wide array of tables and booths, and a liquor bar on the right hand side. Oddly enough, there's patrons inside, I count four of them. Two men at the counter, talking to the waiter about something, and then a couple sitting in a booth. Either they serve breakfast here, or they're alcoholics. I enter cautiously and the bartender nods in a greeting. I force a smile, though I'm sure it comes off as timid, and head over to the counter.
"What can I get you?" He asks when he walks to meet me. His accent is different from the man at the park; more posh.
"I'm actually looking for someone. Madea Thorne? She posted a wanted ad in the paper."
"Ah, looking for a little bit of adventure?" He winked, then leaned away from the counter. "She's a regular here. I'll give her a call and tell you're waiting."
"Thank you," I express, and he nods and walks over to the wall where an old timey telephone is attached. He picks up the receiver and I can't help but smile at the memory of home phones attached to the wall back in my time. Oh no, I'm going to be one of those old people that goes 'Back in my day…' aren't I? I try to act normal, but I doubt I can. My clothes are covered in grime, I have no usable money, I have no idea how I got to the country, let alone this time period. But, getting a job seems like a stable start. I'll have time to freak out and scream into a pillow when I have a roof over my head.
When the bartender comes back he pours a drink and sets it on the counter in front of me. "I don't have any money, I'm sorry," I explain.
"You look like you need it," he replies, and nods to the glass. I take it and smell, my face contorting wildly at the sharp odor of ethanol. "Not a big drinker?"
"Not at six o'clock in the morning," I defend, but down the drink anyway. It tastes awful, honestly, like drinking nail polish remover. Still, I'm not in a position to turn away hospitality.
"That's a girl!" He encourages when I set the glass down wincing. "There's a bathroom in the back, you can clean yourself up."
He walks away then with one of the bottles and heads over to another customer, refilling their glass and chatting lightly. I get up and head over to "the back", I guess, and find a swanky hallway with an organized stockroom and a clean bathroom. Dang, even the toilets look nice. Color me impressed I close the door and turn to the mirror.
Holy shit I look awful. There's scratches and dried mud on my face, my white blouse is soggy and stained, and my skirt is nearly ripped to shreds at the bottom. My hair has three or four twigs and leaves tangled in, and is frayed out. If I had spent a whole night headbanging to Aerosmith I wouldn't have this much frizz and chaos.
I approach the sink and begin to wash my face. All the grime sticks to my face at first, but with resilience and determination I manage to get my face looking semi-normal again. The clothes are a lost cause, but there's no help for that now. I wash my arms in case I scraped against any poison ivy or something dangerous, and sigh. Still look like shit. Thanks, you too. Same person, dumbass.
I finally am able to dry myself off with the raggedy towels in the bathroom, and stare at myself in the mirror. I've seen my face many times before, every day, but today something feels different. Not look different, I still have all the same physical attributes, but it feels like a different person is living underneath my skin. And that's called body dysmorphia. I literally traveled back in time over a hundred years. I think that might be it. Maybe a little body dysmorphia. Ugh, fine… maybe a little.
Exiting the bathroom I head back to the front of the bar, and the bartender makes eye contact and points to one of the booths. I see the back of a woman with short hair in the booth, facing away from me.
There's Madea. Time to not fuck this up.
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survey #148
Have you ever seen an alligator?
Yes, both in the zoo and wild.
When you first wake up do you check your cellular device?
Yes, because I'll wanna know what time it is.
How well do you think you’d... work out, in a Christian school?
Well this depends; my last college was actually a Christian college, but they didn't push any sort of doctrine onto students; I loved the school, even, they were great people. HOWEVER, if I was pressured into a religion by a school (isn't that illegal, anyway?), I'd get kicked out real fuckin fast.
Do you like Kanye West?
Nope, not as a musician and DEFINITELY not as a person.
Do you have any lockets?
No, I've always kinda wanted one though, haha.
Do you make kissy faces in pictures?
ugh no I'd rather you just shoot me
Do you know your social security number (or equivalent) off by heart?
At this moment, I do, but I very often forget the first three numbers.
Do you know a Stephen?
I don't.
Green or purple?
Purple.
Have you ever watched a meteor shower?
No, I wish!!!
Has religion ever come between you and somebody?
Yes. It's especially the reason I'm not friends with Mini anymore, because due to her faith, she was trans/homophobic and also extremely pro-life. Her selling pro-life stickers and stuff following the overturning of Roe v. Wade was the final fucking straw, like congrats for benefiting from women having their fucking lives ruined.
Ever have an ultra-sound performed on you? What was it for?
Yes, something about my liver as a teenager, I don't remember the details. Everything was fine.
How long has your favorite animal been your favorite animal?
Since 2005 when Meerkat Manor came out; I was nine.
When was the last time you spoke to your mom?
Lil while ago in the kitchen.
Do you have an Instagram?
I have three, one being a personal one and the other two for different types of photography.
If so how many posts do you have?
None have a whole lot, but I don't care at all to count.
Can you juggle?
Absolutely not, never been able to.
What’s your favorite color combination?
Probably black and gold.
Have you ever seen your favorite animal in real life?
Only once at the zoo in 5th grade. :( They moved them somewhere else afterwards.
Does your cat purr really loud? (if you have a cat)
Haha yes, Girt refers to his louder purring as "lawnmowering" and it's so accurate.
What’s your mom’s name?
Donna.
Do you have multiple friends with the same name?
Not really "multiple," no. The only case where name confusion happens sometimes is when me or mom and Girt's family say "Ashley," because both myself and Girt have an older sister named Ashley. We kinda just have to use context clues to know which one, but even then there have been instances of not realizing the other Ashley was the subject.
Have you ever gotten up in the middle of the night just to talk to someone?
No, but someone has done this for me, and I'm going to be pained for my entire life that I never got to hug and thank her.
Do you watch The Simpsons or any other cartoons?
No.
What's your favorite kind of jam/jelly?
Grape.
What have you last been diagnosed with?
Hypothyroidism, officially, following some blood tests after being taken off my old thyroid med to get a baseline; it's apparently majorly severe, which explains a WHOLE fuckin lot. I'm on a different (and supposedly more effective) med now and will get more tests later to hopefully see it stabilize.
What was the last restaurant you ate at?
Red Robin, for Mother's Day.
Do you believe in psychic ability?
Absolutely not and it's infuriating that people are willing to scam generally vulnerable people like that. So-called "mediums" are even worse.
When did you last have pizza delivered?
It's been a good while. I've been craving pizza actually, but I'm avoiding even suggesting it as best I can, especially after meeting my nutritionist and having fresh motivation to eat better.
What's your favorite decoration in your place of residence?
I'm not sure, we have quite a lot of stuff up, especially in the living room.
Have you ever held a chicken?
I know I've held a chick, but never an adult.
Are you hard to please?
No.
What’s your least favorite genre of TV show?
I hate those shows like Maury or Jerry Springer shit, stuff that puts people's private lives on display for ridicule and likewise purposes.
What’s your least favorite genre of music?
Probably country. I'm not into rap either, but at least sometimes the non-vocals are fun or interesting.
What physical traits have you inherited from your father?
Idk, nothing that is extremely obvious, at least to me. I'm pretty sure Dad was born dirty blonde though, and I was too, but his hair turned black and mine brown.
How about your mother?
Height and general weight, but she's still smaller than me, especially post-chemo. Our skin is also similar, both in paleness and also freckling, at least on my arms. She has it more widespread and obvious than I do.
Which friend of yours has the prettiest, most unique name?
I have always thought Alon was a beautiful name. I've never met or known another person with it.
When it comes to nose piercings, do you prefer a ring or stud?
Studs.
Does your job have any restrictions on piercings and tattoos? What are they?
I'm unemployed, and while I know there's plenty of people who would call it petty, I wouldn't take a job that perpetuated the "tattoos and piercings are unprofessional" shit.
Do you want or have your belly button pierced?
It's not and never has been; if I had a certain kind of body, I'd absolutely get it done, but for some reason I'm really weird about me personally getting one at my size, despite the fact I'd cheer seeing another woman my size getting it done. I'm just very uncomfortable drawing attention to my abdomen.
Ever been in a physical fight? How did it go?
Nope.
Do you like swimming? Do you have a pool?
I like swimming a lot actually, I love being in water and even more I love the sound of it, I like watching light on it... but I don't swim a lot, partially because I hate getting changed out of wet bathing suits (and I actually wear swimming pants too because I don't want to show my legs, and THEY'RE the worst getting off), but also we don't have a pool. Growing up we did, but at this house and the last one, we didn't.
Is anyone you know racist or sexist? How do you feel about it?
Oh certainly, especially here in the south; you see racism more, but both are fucking awful and I openly think you're fucking garbage if you hold prejudices like these.
Do you like mint-flavored gum?
Yep.
If you house with your parents, do you pay rent to live at home? Why or why not? Do you know if your parents will ever make you pay rent? If so, when?
I'm unemployed, so no. Even whenever I do get a job, I'm doubtful Mom would ask me to, but I'm immediately contributing whether she likes it or not.
Ever have sex outside of a relationship?
No, that's not for me.
If a taken person pursued you and you were interested, would you do anything with them?
No, I'm not going to be someone's second choice.
If you had a hot cousin, would you have sexual relations with them?
Jesus Christ, no. Incest is majorly fucking gross to me.
Have your exes gotten better looking since you dated them?
I don't know; I haven't seen most since we dated. I've seen a single picture of Jason in more recent times, in which he had full facial hair, but it was a candid photo at an angle so I couldn't really digest how different he really looked.
How often do you expect your SO to talk to you (either through texting, phone calls, etc)?
I would be concerned if he didn't message me for an entire day, because we generally talk quite a bit throughout every day. I'd worry something was wrong.
How tall do you stand?
Haha I found out the other day at the doctor I'm exactly 5'4.6'', so that's why I hear 5'4'' from some people and 5'5'' from others.
How many people are in your family?
I consider my immediate/most base "family" to be my parents, two full-blooded sisters (I just don't see/interact with the halves enough... though I wish I did), my older sister's three children, and Girt, his sister, her son, and Girt's mom. Oh, and I guess Kim too, Dad's wife, but she will NEVER be what my biological mom is to me; I don't even call her "Mom" or anything of the sort, she's just Kim. AND THE PETS!!! Roman, Venus, and Cookie are all absolutely family in my eyes, and even Girt's dog Charlie that I haven't seen THAT many times is family to me.
What color is your keyboard?
Black, but the keys light up red.
Do you have a laptop or a desktop?
Laptop, it's a lot more convenient imo.
What were you doing at midnight last night?
I'm pretty sure Girt left right around that time, but I was nearly asleep so am not totally sure.
What woke you up this morning?
At some point my body did naturally, and I just barely dragged myself out of bed to go take my thyroid med (I have to take it at least 30 minutes before eating and my other meds), and then I didn't wake back up until Mom got me up for my psychiatry appointment.
Are you picky about who you give your number to?
Oh for sure, I barely have any contacts in my phone.
Are you afraid of roller coasters?
Yes, very.
Do you know anyone who suffers from depression?
Yes, myself among MANY other people.
[TW: DRUG USE] Have you ever injected a drug?
No, not into that whatsoever.
Have you ever fallen asleep on someone?
Definitely as a kid, as well as on Jason and Girt.
Of all your exes, which one is your least favorite?
Sara.
Do you prefer to be cuddled or kissed?
Depends on the mood; I'd always be up for cuddling Girt though, while I don't always want to kiss, but on the other hand there are cases where I don't just want to cuddle, either.
Your most recent ex says they still love you. You say…
lol no she doesn't, this isn't a situation I can even picture.
Who was your first boy/girlfriend?
Aaron was the first guy with the title, but Jason was definitely my first real significant other.
How did your first kiss happen?
We were playfighting on his bed, he pinned me, so I kissed him.
Where did you meet the last person you were in a car with?
She gave birth to me.
When was the last time you had a box of chocolates? What kind were they?
Valentine's Day, from Girt. They were different flavors and fillings.
Of all your relatives & close friends, whose birthday is closest to yours?
My youngest niece's, I think.
Did you have a cake on your last birthday? What kind?
No actually, I wanted donuts instead.
Where do you think your best friend(s) is right now?
He should be at home, unless he had to go out for something today.
What is your central philosophy in life?
To act with love and that love is something worth fighting for, and that is in all forms, not just romantic.
What moral code do you follow and why?
Treat others how I'd want them to treat me, and to never, ever hurt/kill someone unless in very literal self-defense.
What is the person you are most dependent on (your dad, the welfare office, your personal maid, your seeing-eye-dog, your mailman)?
My mom. I feel like her kid that never truly grew up, and I mean that negatively. She never asked for a child that would always be a parasite on her.
What expletives do you use in surprise or irritation (swears, gasps, yowza, etc)?
"Jesus Christ" and "fuck" happen the most I think, but sometimes "shit" or "god(fucking)damn" happen.
What are the five worst things possible to happen to you?
Depression and mental illness as a whole + the suicidal ideation that comes with it, a traumatic breakup, way too many hospitalizations that didn't benefit me, my parents' divorce (in terms of how I handled it, it NEEEEEEEDED to happen), and honestly I think the muscle atrophy in my legs.
What is the worst you’ve ever been injured or sick (broken arm, cancer, hang nail)?
A wicked stomach virus that had me puking relentlessly, I'm talkin' to where you're barely getting bile out and your abs are in agony.
What object(s) do you like to keep near you?
My phone, more than anything else. I tend to like to have a drink of some sort too, I drink (not alcohol, just in general) A LOT.
Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you?
My dad.
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So, I am "HOPING FOR" a result more in line with the ice cream socials attendance in our 90s (did you know I am 10 months older than you..)
You should start tapping into the wisdom that comes with age...right? Lol
Anyway, though, either way....all I am SURE about is that I need you right now...not gonna give away the cheap gift, but it's something you are gonna want to take possession of asap. I won't tell you what it is. It would be tacky (and we both know you would never associate yourself with anything "tacky." Lol....I am sorry. I couldn't resist. Take my word for it, you, your past words and actions would NEVER need to absorb any such accusations! Lolol.....okay, that is a lie....and I say this because I love you and have no difficulty admitting that you may very well be my favorite person, that is why I can say that, while I would not describe you as "tacky" you have not completely avoided all connections to the label. Whatever. Nobody bats 1.000. For example, if I were to to say that "it's a high end, aromatherapy bubble bath kit" that would be a bit tacky, and hurt my average (which, in this category, is still better than your's. I won't get cocky, though I lose in most others. So, that IS the gift....it was actually the request of someone else years ago when I couldn't decide what to buy THEIR weird ass (she was also rich, so....those people are impossible to shop for. You aren't super rich (as far as I know), but single with a great job. I'm sure you have everything you need, and I don't really know what you want
.thought about a Castle Boutique gift card, then I remembered I still have the bubble bath stuff. Fwiw, many women swear by this shit...I can't believe I am not on speed. Go figure. This likely isn't helping my cause. Gonna stfu...uh...SOON ) so I finally just asked her, I bought one of these, it was a huge hit. I repeated this for every one of the weird, financially independent, women on my list with either grown or no kids (total number was 5 last year, but is already 7) Added bonus: after receiving this, try...JUST TRY to avoid thinking about me--at least occasionally, while you are naked...you can't. Hahahaha..That statement was a bit tacky, perhaps I have caught up now?! Lololol...or NOT.I LOVE YOU, though....so, I am allowed to point out the "tacky" thing. When you call me "a fuckin' dork," that's just mean. You are simply being a mean bitch...."bullying" is what you are guilty of practicing, actually...whereas, I am not. The difference? That's right. Known and stated love! There is only one way for you to redeem yourself, as far as I can see....I, for one, would hate for you to carry the burden of having partake in such a horrible affront to humanity. FORTUNATELY, my love for you knows no bounds and I will ABSOLUTELY permit you to love me in order to r'ender these accusations certain to be thrown your way by the prosecutor's forces of the enemies of man ...and, ultimately, of God as well. In fact, accept my bubble bath, allow me to be secure in the knowledge that you will not be able to completely avoid thinking of me while naked and I will call it even. The next personal communication between us....if there winds up being one, will be your idea (unless you make a habit of reading my blog (which will cover the subject with an obsession only you can inspire from me!
Oh come on, allow me this moral victory, at least. Lol
On a serious not, I love you, please be safe.....
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Life Update 2022 Q4 (or something)
i will leave grammar and punctuation to the wind and will just type whatever I have in mind (I know no one's gonna read this anyway lmao)
the past 8 months has been a whirlwind BUT it's better than what 2021 offered me LOL I started crocheting, got diagnosed with bipolar 2 and got on medication, had 1 hypomanic and depressive episode (we love it here), met a long-time online friend, saw my ex after 2 years of not seeing him face to face, reached an all time high on my BTS spendings (spreadsheet say I'm on my 93k mark with 25k still unpaid (because I buy in installments okay??) (also the Proof Collectors Edition is a must have idc idc)
-----page break bc i was actually working in the middle of writing this and I kinda forgot what I wanted to write so I just winged it -----
life has been better ever since i got medicated tbh; I get to sleep perfectly, learn a shit ton of new things about myself, recognize red flags on myself and how to deal with them, keeping better friendships and not stressing about the not-so-better ones
i fell in love with crochet,, it actually changed my love language from words/touch, to gifts/time LMAO pls and I'm currently having a hard time because of that, because before, I can just fish for compliments and ask someone to hug me, but now, the thought of just asking someone to spend time with me,,,, man talk about clingy AND "materialistic"
my best friendship with amiel is still going strong tbh, I finally get to have a friendship where we get to talk about feelings, a contrast to my past friendships who would find the entire concept as fucking cheesy (YES FUCK YOU LMAO)
also i still love jungkook but i'm not that crazy about him anymore I THINK I am ready to mingle LMAOOOOOO idk ALSO my photocard collection has gotten BIGGER I literally need a new binder and more fillers what the fuck has happened to "I'm not collecting, i'm just gonna buy a binder to store my few photocards" LMAO FUCKIN LIAR how are u gonna buy that MacBook air you so wanted if you have a shopping addiction PLEASE
also my dad is actually great to get along with this year compared to the previous years AND he's not actually in denial about me being crazy (but he's not really on the boat either) BUT it's better, everything's better
do i still cringe whenever i remember the things i did in the past? yes. but do I still beat myself up about it? not really. i have been practicing to be more patient with myself (crochet really did a number on me) and to accept that things has come to past and there's literally NOTHING I can do to change them.
that rm guy was so right... everything does go. :)
wait WHY IS THERE A FUCKIN EXTRA SPACE it looks so horrible
anyways if you look at the font differences, that's how my bipolar brain looks like :) bye
lmao the font differences aren't obvious on the main blog AHH fuck I'm too tired to deal with formats and stuff so bye (final)
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viki & hickeys
the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)
SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.
WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries
MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide
RATING m (18+)
WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG
NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks
Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.
There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.
Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.
“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”
The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?
You’re not so sure.
It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.
Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.
“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”
You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”
She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”
At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.
You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”
Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.
Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.
Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.
So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.
And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”
You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.
Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.
To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.
Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.
On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.
(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)
“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.
Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.
“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”
You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.
There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.
Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.
“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.
He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.
But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”
You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”
His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.
“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”
Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.
Oh, you loved this man.
Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.
He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.
It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.
But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?
One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.
It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”
“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.
As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.
It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.
“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.
The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.
Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.
As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.
A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.
Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.
Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”
You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.
“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.
That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.
Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.
You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.
If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.
“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”
He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”
You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”
Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.
“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”
He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”
“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.
He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.
Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.
“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.
It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.
“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“
“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.
“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”
Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”
You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”
Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?
He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?
Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.
You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!
Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.
“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”
A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.
You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”
Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”
Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”
It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.
He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.
The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.
“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.
But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”
A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”
It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“
He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”
You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”
Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”
You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.
You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.
Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“
He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”
Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”
Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.
“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”
The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.
There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.
You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”
Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”
You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”
“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”
The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”
Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.
On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.
Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”
You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.
Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.
“I thought he was cool before.”
He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.
In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.
You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.
Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”
You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”
He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”
“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.
Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”
You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“
“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”
His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.
It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.
Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.
He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.
Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.
(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)
Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.
(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.
You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”
The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.
But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.
“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”
“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)
Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.
The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”
He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.
“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”
He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”
Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.
It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.
Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.
He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.
Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“
“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”
He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.
“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”
Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”
You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.
Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.
“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”
Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.
“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.
Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”
“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”
At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”
You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.
Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.
Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.
He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”
Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—
Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.
You whimper. “That hurt.”
“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”
Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.
Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.
Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.
Of course.
You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.
It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.
And you’re all too ready to act on it.
Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.
But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.
“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.
Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.
The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.
As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.
Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.
With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.
Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.
“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.
He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.
“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.
“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.
He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.
The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.
It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.
“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.
Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.
His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.
Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.
He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.
Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.
He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.
The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.
Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.
Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.
He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”
The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.
Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.
For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.
He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”
You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.
“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”
A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”
The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—
Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.
He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.
Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”
You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”
It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.
His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.
Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”
And it’s true.
You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.
You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.
Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”
Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.
Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“
Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.
You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.
He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.
“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.
It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.
Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.
“I kinda do—“
“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.
His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.
“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”
You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.
“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.
“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.
Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.
“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.
You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.
Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.
You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.
It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.
Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.
You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.
Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.
“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.
“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.
And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”
Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.
What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.
“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.
(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)
Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.
With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.
“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.
“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”
Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.
Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.
“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.
“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.
You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.
“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”
The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.
Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.
“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”
Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.
“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.
The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”
You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.
“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”
He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.
“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”
You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.
That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.
epilogue
Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.
He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.
Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.
“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.
“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“
“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”
“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”
The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”
There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.
All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”
epi-epilogue
The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.
You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.
“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.
“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”
And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.
“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jjk smut#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader smut#bts jungkook#bts fic#bts smut#mine
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So what exactly is be more chill? Curious (also ramble all you want I love it).
AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA JOIN ME IN BRAINROT HELL THIS FANDOM IS DEAD AND I WILL REVIVE IT OR I WILL FUCKING TRY THROUGH MY HYPERFIXATION OR SO HELP ME
Short version: Local twink with bi swag from New Jersey, Jeremy Heere, eats a tiny computer to be chill and date a girl. A literal chill pill. Computer is now in brain. Cue gay angst, boyf riends, arson, bisexuality, and me having a specific type of favorite character.
Long version: Hoo boy. Prepare for me to scream over gay rights, analyze the fuck out of Jeremy Heere, and sob my eyes out over Michael Mell. I’m not putting this under the cut because I want to recruit people to the fandom because it’s dead and I will bring it to life. Fuck you.
Be More Chill is about a teenager named Jeremy who is a horny bastard with not cis swag. No one’s completely sure WHAT his gender is, but he sure as hell ain’t cis. He is all the genders. He is none of the genders. He has the same gender as Link Legend Of Zelda
The opening number, More Than Survive (WHICH, TO MUSIC NERD OUT, NOT ONLY INTRODUCES US TO OUR WORLD BUT ALSO DOUBLES AS JEREMY’S I-WANT SONG MAKING IT MUSICALLY STRONGER THAN MAJORITY OF THE DISNEY RENAISSANCE FILMS, IF YOU NEED MORE ON THAT SIDEWAYS HAS A GREAT VIDEO, IT’S ABOUT A GOOFY MOVIE AND TALKS ABOUT SONGS AND PURPOSE AND MUSICALS AND SHIT, WATCH IT) introduces Jeremy pretty well, here’s the beginning lyrics because I’m not good at explaining shit
Anyway we meet Chloe, Brooke, and Jenna, we’re not talking about them all you need to know is I do not like Chloe fuck Chloe all my homies hate Chloe. Anyway we meet Rich, he writes “boyf” on Jeremy’s backpack you’ll understand later, we’re quickly introduced to Jake, I don’t remember a ton about Rich and Jake but I think they’re gay, and then we meet MY KIN MY BELOVED, CHRISTINE CANIGULA. IF YOU FORGOT HER NAME WAS CHRISTINE, DON’T WORRY, BECAUSE IT’S SAID SO MANY TIMES IT’S COMICAL. I LOVE HER.
Christine points out that someone wrote Boyf on Jeremy’s backpack and he just fuckin RUNS this show is a comedic masterpiece and also what fucking time period does this show take place in because the slang is all over the place this is a good thing but fuck all that because then we meet the BEST CHARACTER in the ENTIRE SHOW
MICHAEL MELL YOU ARE A NATIONAL TREASURE YOU ARE SERATONIN INCARNATE YOU MAY KNOW HIM FROM THE MENTAL BREAKDOWN SONG BUT THAT IS COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT I RECOMMEND YOU GO LISTEN TO THE ACTUAL SONG (MORE THAN SURVIVE NOT THE BREAKDOWN SONG THAT’S FOR LATER) JUST LISTEN TO HOW FUCKIN HAPPY MICHAEL SOUNDS OR IF YOU JUST WANNA HEAR MICHAEL BE HAPPY HERE’S THE CLIP CHERISH HIS HAPPINESS
Michael is a fan favorite, and THERE’S NO QUESTION WHY. Like, you know that one person who's just so enthusiastic and radiates such positive vibes that they cheer you up just by existing? There are three people I know like that, and they're my best friend, Sonic Wachowski, and Michael Mell. Coincidentally all three of them need therapy but that is completely irrelevant
Anyway Michael’s the best character in the show he’s a stoner he likes vintage stuff he buys slushies from 7-11 I think that in one production of the show it was mentioned he has two moms also he has a rainbow patch on his sleeve AND WE KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS AND THAT’S RELVANT BECAUSE APPARENTLY RICH WROTE “RIENDS” ON MICHAEL’S BACKPACK SO WHEN JEREMY AND MICHAEL STAND NEXT TO EACH OTHER IT SAYS BOYF RIENDS AND IT’S SO FUNNYJHDKJFHGDSHGFS
LOVE WINS LOVE FUCKING WINS THAT’S NOT EVEN HOW GAY THEY ARE LIKE IN THIS SONG JEREMY WENT FROM “Hate not dating anyone ever” TO “HOLY SHIT MICHAEL :D” AND HE’S JUST BOPPIN TO THE MUSIC WHILE MICHAEL SINGS GOD THEY’RE SO IN LOVE BASICALLY EVERY SCENE THEY’RE IN YOU COULD EASILY PUT “LIVE SLUG REACTION” OVER IT THEY ARE LIVING IN MY BRAIN THEY WILL NOT LEAVE OR PAY RENT I AM GONNA GO NUTS OVER THEM LOOK AT THEM THEY’RE IN LOVE
Anyway Christine signs up for the school play and Jeremy’s like “KNOW WHAT I THINK SHE’S CUTE I’M GONNA SIGN UP FOR THE SCHOOL PLAY” and MIchael’s just being the ultimate wingman I love him so much (at one point before Jeremy goes to the play rehersal he’s like “YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS. OF COURSE I’LL MOCK YOU FOREVER IF YOU DON’T.” it’s so funny i love him)
We officially meet Christine and she’s so fucking neurodivergent and it’s amazing, she’s got gigantic feelings about living up to all she’s meant to be and at one point she rants about roles for women in theatre and it’s so fucking funny I kin her intensely <3 (side note when we meet her jeremy’s like “is this where you meet for the play rehersal” and christine’s like “no this is where you meet for the swim team. i’m joking i’m joking” and jeremy’s like “oH WELL I’M JEREMY” and it’s so fucking funny jeremy is so fucking dumb i love him so much) Btw Jake exists but I’m not hyperfixated on him fuck you his parents laundered money now they’re on the run that doesn’t really come into play tho maybe I haven’t watched the musical in ages and probably have ADHD fjdhhfhsdfjsd
Anyway we see Rich again and he’s a little shit and also short (he calls Jeremy “tallass” and Jeremy’s like “WHY DO YOU CALL ME THAT I’M NOT EVEN THAT TALL” fun fact michael’s taller than jeremy which i love so much) (ALSO APPARENTLY RICH IS ONLY 5′5??? THAT’S NOT THAT SHORT??? IS EVERYONE IN THIS SCHOOL JUST 5′10 SHFGJGSHFNHCSBDH) but Rich is confident as hell AND THEN HE FUCKING GASPS LIKE HE’S BEEN PUNCHED IN THE GUT AND THEN HE’S LIKE “HEY. HEY JEREMY MY MAN. DID YOU KNOW THAT IN FRESHMAN YEAR I WAS A LOSER LIKE YOU. YOU WANNA KNOW HOW I STOPPED BEING A LOSER.”
He proceeds to talk about a fuckin thing called a Squip, you can’t even look it up on the internet, it’s a very fun word to say, it’s from Japan, it’s a grey oblong pill, quantum nanotechnology CPU, the quantum computer in the pill will travel through your blood until it implants in your brain and tells you what to do
Jeremy’s like “SO IT’S DRUGS???” And Rich is like IT’S BETTER THAN DRUGS YOU PIECE OF SHIT STONER IT’S FROM JAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN IT’S A GREY OBLONG PILL QUANTUM PILL QUANTUM NANOTECHNOLOGY CPUUU THEEE QUANTUM COMPUTER IN THE PILL WILL TRAVEL THROUGH YOUR BLOOD UNTIL IT IMPLANTS IN YOUR BRAIN AND IT TELLS YOU WHAT TO DOOOOOO IT TELLS YOU WHAT TO DOOOOOOOOOO IT’S PREPROGRAMMED IT’S AMAZING SPEAKS TO YOU DIRECTLYYYYYYY YOU BEHAVE AS IY’S APPRAISING HELPS YOU ACT CORRECTLYYYYYYY (Squip homophobic) HEEELPS YOOUU TOOO BEEE COOOOOOOOOOOOOL IT HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELPS YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULE THIS SONG SLAPS SO HARD
Rich keeps pitching the Squip how if Jeremy takes his advice and if he pays the listed prince then you’ll go from sad from interesting to hip yeah your whole life will flip when you have a squip this song slaps so hard and you can get a Squip for the low price of six hundred dollars and then Rich fucking RIFFS TO INSANITY HEYY YEAAH A SQUIIIIIIIIP HEEEEYEAH A SQUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP HEY YEAH NO LONGER A DRIP WHEN YOU GOT IN YOUR GRIP A SQUIIP A SQUIIIIIIP A SQUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP THIS SONG HAS NO RIGHT TO GO SO HARD
Anyway this next scene is one I like to call WOA... GAYMERS (YEAH MICHAEL’S BACK CHERISH EVERY BIT OF SCREENTIME HE GETS BECAUSE HE REALLY NEEDED MORE) SO BASICALLY IT’S A SONG WHERE MICHAEL AND JEREMY ARE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES TOGETHER AND IT’S SO FUCKING CUTE
SO AFTER THE BEGINNING VERSE MICHAEL’S LIKE “YEAH SO RICH IS DEF SCAMMING YOU. SUPER WEIRDLY.” AND JEREMY’S LIKE “BUT WHAT IF HE’S NOT THO, ALL I HAVE TO DO IS BRING THE GUY WHO BULLIES ME SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS OKAY YEAH HE’S SCAMMING ME I’M DOOMED TO BE A LOSER UNTIL THE END OF TIME AND BEYOND” AND MICHAEL’S LIKE “NO WAY NO FUCKING WAY HERE IS WHY YOU ARE WRONG” AND SAYS HE’S COOLER THAN A VINTAGE CASSETTE AND SAYS THAT HIGH SCHOOL BEING SHIT ISN’T A BIG DEAL BECAUSE THEY’RE A TEAM AND IT’S SO CUTE I LOVE YOU MICHAEL MELL JEREMY ALSO LOVES YOU BUT ROMANTICALLY
This song does highlight some differences between Michael and Jeremy that come into play later. The biggest one I take away from it is that Michael’s more... patient than Jeremy. Michael knows he and Jeremy are losers, but Michael owns it, partially because he is sure that in two years, once he and Jeremy get to collage, they’re gonna be cool. In his own words, “guys like us are cool in collage.” Jeremy, on the other hand, doesn’t want to wait for collage to possibly be cool. He feels, in his own words, “stuck on a level, and I wanna move on.” He wants to be cool now, Michael is fine with waiting.
An additional note: we learn in this song that Jeremy’s mom just. Left. And since then, his dad has been depressed as hell. Jeremy probably has a LOT of pent up emotions about the whole thing (”You heard from her?” “No. And who cares? It’s like, Mom moved on, why can’t he?”).
BUT FUCK THAT BECAUSE AT ONE POINT JEREMY’S AFOREMENTIONED DAD COMES IN AND SAYS, AND I QUOTE “IS THAT A GIRL? ARE YOU IN HERE WITH A GIRL? OH HI MICHAEL” WHICH. FHSDHNFHDSBHBJS EVERYONE KNOWS THEY’RE IN LOVE RICH KNOWS JEREMY’S DAD KNOWS THE ONLY ONE WHO DOESN’T KNOW IS THE IDIOTS THEMSELVES
ANYWAY MICHAEL IS ESTABLISHED TO HAVE ABANDONMENT ISSUES BECAUSE JEREMY’S LIKE “YO WE DON’T HAVE TO GIVE THE MONEY TO RICH WE COULD JUST GO TO HIS BUYER AND SEE IF IT CHECKS OUT” AND MICHAEL’S LIKE “IF IT DOES WILL YOU BE TOO COOL FOR UH FOR VIDEO GAMES” AND THEN THERE’S THIS
THAT’S GAY THAT’S SO FUCKING GAY THEY’RE SO IN LOVE I’M SO NORMAL OVER THEM OH OH OH AND I’M P SURE THERE’S A VERSION OF THE SONG WHERE THE LYRIC IS “HIGH SCHOOL’S PERVERSE BUT WITHOUT YOU IT’D BE SO MUCH WORSE” WHICH IS SO MUCH GAYER
ANYWAY THE SONG ENDS AFTER ONE LAST REPEAT OF THE CHORUS (THE CHORUS FORESHADOWS THINGS I WILL NOT ELABORATE) AND YOU END WITH THE IMPRESSION THAT WOW. THEY’RE GAY.
Side note let’s talk about how fucking stupid Jeremy and Michael are because I find it hilarious. Jeremy really went “WELP NO ONE WANTS TO FUCK ME, GUESS I’LL EAT A FUCKIN COMPUTER” and Michael was like “WELL IF WE TAKE THE MONEY TO NOT OUR BULLY AND JEREMY WON’T BE TOO COOL FOR UH VIDEO GAMES I SEE NOTHING ELSE WRONG WITH THIS PLAN” like they both agreed “Ah yes, eating a shady computer from Japan that implants in your brain and tells you what to do is a completely rational idea” and it was only later that they went “Waaiit a minute. Maybe eating a supercomputer from Japan that can't be looked up on the internet that we bought in the back of a shoe store for 400 dollars in cash that the dealer said 'wasn't exactly legal'. Was a bad idea." they’re both fuckign stupid I love them so much
Anyway Jeremy and Michael go and get the Squip which looks like a Tictac, and they learn they gotta take it with Mountain Dew. Don’t ask why. So next day, Jeremy takes the squip and it is inneffective and he’s like “i wasted my bar mitzvah money on a wintergreen tictac (side note this confirms he’s jewish!) leave me to mourn in my chili fries forever” and then eternal ray of sunshine Michael Mell’s like “OKAY I’LL BE BACK IN FIVE MINUTES BECAUSE I AM GOING TO GET SOMETHING CALLED CRYSTAL PEPSI. IT’S LIKE REGULAR PEPSI. JUST CLEAR.” AND HE’S SO FUCKING EXCITED ABOUT IT ESPECIALLY THE FACT THAT IT WAS DISCONTINUED IN THE 90S (hehe chekhov’s gun) HE IS NEURODIVERGENT I WOULD KILL AND DIE FOR HIM
Anyway in the next scene Jeremy tries talking to Christine and then he fuckgn dies
So basically Jeremy has a bit of a seizure and the squip turns out to have worked all along and it looks like Keanu Reaves for A Reason. What is that reason? FUCK YOU IT’S FUNNY (AND THE SQUIP’S BRIEFLY LIKE “KEANU REAVES IS MY DEFAULT MODE YOU CAN ALSO SET ME FOR: SEAN CONNERY. JACK NICKELSON. SEXY ANIME FEMALE UHUHU” THAT IS A DIRECT QUOTE AND IT’S SO FUCKING FUNNY I LOVE THIS MUSICAL)
ANYWAY THERE’S A SONG WHERE THE SQUIP’S AN ASSHOLE AND FUCKING MENTALLY RIPS INTO JEREMY UNDER THE GUISE OF “HELPING HIM.” I’M GONNA KILL IT. LIKE IT TELLS JEREMY THAT “EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS SO TERRIBLE, EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU MAKES ME WANNA DIE” JESUS FUCKING CHRIST (at least there’s a bit of the song that’s so very stim so don’t freak out and don’t resist and have no doubt if i assist youu wiiiiiiill be more chill it is so stim)
ALSO THE SQUIP CASTS LIKE. A HALLUCINATION THING???? WHERE ALL THE STUDENTS REINFORCE TO JEREMY THAT EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM SUCKS AND EVERYONE HATES HIM ACTUALLY WHERE THE FUCK IS MICHAEL WE NEED HIM TO SMACK THE SQUIP IN THE FACE WITH MOUNTAIN DEW RED
(I just wanna share this post because it’s so fucking funny and also gay rights, also here’s an animatic of that song, the ending has implications but dON’T WORRY MICHAEl’S COMPLETELY FINE AND OKAY AND ALIVE)
The Squip tells Jeremy to wear an Eminem shirt, we briefly see Chloe and Brooke again, we get Jeremy being an awkward dramatic dork I love him, and there’s a song that makes your local sex repulsed ace who is also a lesbian in love with Brooke Lohst Very Mentally Confused so let’s ignore that and also its later reprise because the later reprise is just. Bad. Not musically it’s just so uncomfortable and i hate it so much so no <3 Anyway we haven’t seen Michael in a while weird haha I’m sure it’s nothing <3 Squip says Michael left the mall it must be the truth <3
Anyway we get a reprise to the song where the Squip was an emotionally abusive asshole (strong wording, but correct), and here we see ITS RIPPING INTO JEREMY FUCKING WORKED. Because the Squip repeats the “Everything about you is so terrible, everything about you makes me wanna die" thing, and Jeremy echoes, saying everything about him is so terrible, everything about him makes him wanna die (Michael was totally yelling at Jeremy “HERE IS AN ALPHEBETICAL LIST OF ALL THE REASONS YOU ARE WRONG HEY HEY CAN YOU HEAR ME” :)). The Squip’s manipulations have worked, leaving Jeremy in the perfect condition to obey its every command who wants to kill a tictac with me
(Anyway here’s an animatic of THAT song because it’s GREAT)
Anyway next day the Squip kinkshames Jeremy and decides he’s gonna do pushups (because i have boyf riends brainrot here is a headcanon related to that because them) and then we get a ballad from Christine where she talks about how there’s this guy she passes in the halls every day, and she thought she’d had him clocked but now something’s different about him, and he’s gone from a GUY THAT YOU’D NEVER BE INTO INTO A GUY THAT YOU’D KINDA BE INTO FROM A GUY THAT I’D NEVER BE INTO INTO A GUY THAT I’D KINDA BE INTO IS HE WORTH IT JEREMYYYYYYYYYYYYY I DON’T ALWAYS RELATE TO OTHER PEOPLE MY AGE EXCEPT WHEN I’M ON THE STAGE AND THERE ARE SO MANY CHANGED THAT I’M GOING THROUGH AND WHY’M I TELLING THIS TO YOU GUESS THERE’S A PART OF ME THAT WANTS TO (uwu) I GUESS A PART OF ME WANTS TO WHO KNEW I GUESS THAT PART OF ME WANTS TO SIT WITH YOU I GUESS THAT PART OF ME WANTS TO WHO KNEW I GUESS THAT PART OF ME LIKES TO TALK TO YOU I GUESS THAT PART OF ME LIKES TO WHOOO KNEW I GUESS THAT PART O FME LIKES TO HANG WITH YOU I GUESS THAT PART OF ME- BACK TO PLAY REHERSAL, I KNOW THAT IT’S WEIRD, BUT IT’S TOTALLY TRUE... THE GUY THAT I’D KINDA BE INTO... (that guy that you’d kinda be into) YEAH THAT GUY THAT I’D KINDA BE INTO IIIIIIIIS...
JAKE
YEAH IN A SLIGHTLY UNEXPECTED TWIST, CHRISTINE’S INTO JAKE AND NOT JEREMY. FUN.
So the Squip’s like “Aight if you wanna be with Christine you gotta reboot your reputation you gotta get an upgrade (UPGRADE) upgrade okay not yet
So the Squip makes Jeremy cry because it can automatically do that apparently, Brooke shows up and comforts Jeremy, and then we learn EMINEM IS FUCKING DEAD AND JEREMY’S LIKE “SQUIP DID DID YOU kILL EMINEM” AND IT HAS THE SAME ENERGY AS “DID YOU FUCK MY WIFE” THIS SHOW IS A COMEDIC MASTERPIECE, ANYWAY THE SQUIP DIDN’T EXACTLY KILL EMINEM, and then we get a BANGER SONG CALLED UPGRADE AND IT FUCKING SLAPS
UPGRADE IS BASICALLY JUST THE SQUIP BEING LIKE HEY JEREMY YOUR LIFE WAS SO PITIFUL BEFORE BUT NOW IT’S TIME TO GO ALL THE WAY AND MORE YOU GOTTA GET AN UPGRADE UPGRADE UPGRADE GOTTA GET AN UPGRADE UPGRADE UPGRADE DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE GUILT YOU FEEL (sus) JUST TAKE A BREATHE AND SEAL THE DEAL DAMN GOTTA GET AN UPGRAAAAAAAAAADE YOU GOTTA GET AN UPGRAAAAAAAAAAA-A-AAAADE
Anyway Jake kinda asks Christine to hang out at his place, the Squip keeps egging Jeremy on, then Jeremy’s like “OKAY THERE ARE TOO MANY VOICES IN MY HEAD RN CAN EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE AND LET ME THINK. INCLUDING YOU YOU FUCKIN TICTAC.” So the Squip fucks off (not for long unfortunately)
And then, for the first time in a while, we see Michael, and he’s. Kinda pissed at Jeremy, saying he’s been “avoiding him all day”. Jeremy’s confused as fuck and then realizes HE HASN’T SEEN MICHAEL SINCE THE SQUIP ACITVATED, so he’s like “HEY SQUIP WHY HAVEN’T I SEEN MICHAEL SINCE YOU SHOWED UP” and the Squip reveals it’s something called optic nerve blocking. It has control over Jeremy’s vision, so it has been blocking Michael from Jeremy. He’s a link to “Jeremy 1.0″, so if Jeremy wants to upgrade, he’s gotta make sacrifices. Squip homophobic
Michael realizes what happened - the squip worked. And god he just. Fuckin LIGHTS UP AND HE’S SO EXCITED ABOUT IT HE’S LIKE “JEREMY THAT’S AMAZING WE GOTTA TEST IT OUT WE GOTTA CELEBRATE WE GOTTA WE GOTTA GET STONED IN MY BASEMENT” AND HE’S SO EXCITED AND HAPPY WHICH MAKES WHAT HAPPENS NEXT SO VERY PAINFUL
Now Upgrade has a last verse where Jeremy makes his choice, but it was replaced with a new song in the Broadway version that I find MUCH better so I’m gonna talk about that specifically, it’s called Loser Geek Whatever, and holy shit it’s so good and heartbreaking oh my god I need to highlight specific lyrics just to show you how good it is
“It’s not only school that’s rough, being lonely’s stupid tough” and “The problem has always been me” those lyrics specifically affect me on an emotional level that I can’t explain like ow fuck I feel that so much being lonely is the worst fuckign feeling in the entire world
Alright gay people get ready for the promised Jeremy analysis
This song serves as a deeper dive into Jeremy’s mind, a stronger I-want song than More Than Survive. More Than Survive works well enough, but it doesn’t go SUPER in depth about Jeremy’s wants and motivations. More Than Survive is just... Surface-level wants. Jeremy’s surface level want and motivation is he wants to be with Christine and not get targeted by bullies and shit, and that’s shown very clearly through More Than Survive.
Meanwhile Loser Geek Whatever goes right to the root of Jeremy’s issues - he’s really fucking lonely. His self esteem is in the ground. His entire life, he’s been nothing but a failure. A weirdo. A loser. His life fucking sucks. And his mom leaving (as mentioned earlier) probably didn’t make anything better.
Something I find VERY interesting is that Jeremy thinks his instincts and his free will has made his life SUCK. So he’s giving it up for a chance - for a chance - at having something different. And that is FASCINATING to me. LIke... Jeremy’s giving up who he really is and his free will to conform to what the Squip says is best for him to be “cool.” Like that is terrifying, but... Understandable and strangely real, in a way.
Now this might just be my aromanticism and not knowing what crushes are like talking, but Jeremy’s loneliness might contribute to why he wants Christine so bad (aside from just teenage crush things).
Jeremy wants human connection. He wants more friends aside from just Michael. Michael’s amazing, but can’t really... Understand Jeremy’s loneliness. Michael absolutely ADORES being weird. He owns it, he loves it. He doesn’t (openly) care a lot about the social consequences of being weird, he's good with just vibing and having a good time playing video games with his best friend. As long as he’s got Jeremy, he’s good.
Meanwhile, Jeremy cares a LOT about social consequences, and he kinda resents being weird. Being weird keeps him as just a forgettable blip at the bottom of the school social map. Sure, he’s free to be himself, but at what cost? Being bullied, made fun of? Being the loser? He doesn’t want that anymore. He feels forgotten, isolated, and alone. Freaking out is his okay, and it sucks. There’s a huge disconnect between Jeremy and Michael’s mindsets - Michael loves being weird, Jeremy doesn’t. Michael is patient enough to wait until collage to be cool, Jeremy isn’t.
Side note. The lyric “I’m ready, set, I’m player one” hurts specifically because it has been confirmed that. When Michael and Jeremy play video games. Michael always is Player One.
So you see where this is going.
You see what Jeremy’s choice is gonna be.
Doesn’t make it hurt any less.
NOW I’M GONNA SAY QUICKLY - UPGRADE FUCKING SLAPS, BUT THE ENTIRETY OF LGW IS, IN MY HUMBLE OPINION, BETTER THAN THE LAST VERSE OF UPGRADE WHERE HE MAKES HIS CHOICE. LET ME JUST SHOW YOU THE LAST VERSE OF UPGRADE. THE ENTIRE LAST VERSE OF UPGRADE.
...Yeah it’s not as good imo. Maybe I’m biased because I saw the Broadway version first, because there are no bootlegs of the Two River recording, but I still think Loser Geek Whatever is WAY better than the end of Upgrade.
In Upgrade, Jeremy is COMPLETELY certain that yeah, he’s gonna do this no matter what. Which. SIR. YOU ARE CUTTING OFF YOUR BEST FRIEND???? YOU DON’T JUST SOUND COLD AND CERTAIN AT THAT???? And all the interesting stuff that Loser Geek Whatever talked about - Jeremy giving up his free will, Jeremy’s loneliness, Jeremy’s guilt that he brushes off because the Squip’s better at making choices for him - is BARELY talked about.
In Loser Geek Whatever, we get context to Jeremy choosing to abandon Michael. Jeremy hates feeling weird, Michael loves it. Jeremy actually thinks “If I get everything I want, am I gonna be able to act like I didn’t hurt my one real friend?" But he excuses it with the thought that all his instincts have gotten him into trouble alone, all his thoughts have made him worse, so if the Squip thinks that cutting Michael off is the best decision... Well, what’s smarter and better at making decisions? A supercomputer who knows basically everything in the entire world, or a weird, awkward, nerdy loser who’s only fucked up with every choice he’s ever made?
In Loser Geek Whatever, Jeremy’s choice comes off as something he’s not entirely certain of, but the Squip is better at making choices than he is, and the Squip’s been right all the time so far, so if it wants him to abandon Michael... That’s what’s best, right? Yes, it’s selfish, but Jeremy’s been the loser all his life and he hates it. He wants- no, needs something to change. His status quo sucks, and he can’t just wait two years for them to be cool in collage for something new. Plus... Easier to pretend it didn’t happen if he can’t see Michael. Easier to just reap the rewards if he can’t see the consequences.
Meanwhile in Upgrade, it just comes off as. A huge dick move. Which it is, it is objectively a huge dick move. But it’s a more UNDERSTANDABLE dick move that has some EXPLANATION in Loser Geek Whatever. Jeremy’s decision has NUANCE.
And ALSO this is shown REALLY WELL through just the delivery of “Optic nerve blocking on” so lemme ramble about that real quick
So Two River Jeremy was played by Will Connolly and Broadway Jeremy was played by Will Roland, they're both great in the role, but here I think that Roland’s delivery of the line was better. In Connolly’s delivery, his voice is more... Cold. There’s no real emotion behind it, just certainty. Which I’ve yelled about why that’s not a good choice. But in Roland’s delivery, Jeremy’s voice is breaking and shaky. He doesn’t sound like he wants to do it. It’s fucking heartbreaking it gets me so bad
Anyway that’s the end of Act One, I do not remember everything after this just moments that wounded my soul jdshfanjfghjdgasjcd
So there’s a Halloween party that’s in every Broadway high school there’s always a fucking Halloween party or some kinda party, it’s pretty standard, ONE THING I WILL NOTE: Rich shows up, and he’s looking for something called Mountain Dew Red. He is VERY DESPERATE to find some Mountain Dew Red. Like, HE IS CLEARLY NOT OKAY. Anyway I’m sure that will not come into play ever
Then there’s the Reprise To That Song That Makes Me Uncomfortable LET’S IGNORE THAT HAHA SQUIP GOT MESSED UP BY ALCOHOL JEREMY GOT CHASED INTO A BATHROOM AND IS HIDING SURELY NOTHING WILL GO WRONG NOTHING BAD EVER HAPPENS TO BE MORE CHILL CHARACTERS IN BATHROOMS ESPECIALLY WHEN ONE OF THEM IS WEARING A BLACK SHIRT THAT SAYS “CREEPS” WITH GREEN LETTERS HAHAHAHA ANYWAY MICHAEL’S BACK LET’S GO GAYS LET’S GET READY FOR THE MOST EMOTIONALLY CHARGED SCENE IN THE ENTIRE MUSICAL
So yeah. Michael’s back. And he’s not happy. He’s really fucking hurt and kinda pissed at Jeremy. Like, he had a whole speech in his head getting mad at Jeremy (haha i kin you michael. everyone who knows what happens next is now very concerned anyway). Jeremy’s like “damn. I missed you.” Also at one point Michael’s like “You’re speechless. Squip got your tongue?” which I just like that line a lot and also it leads to Jeremy being like “No it’s off” AND THEN MICHAEL’S LIKE “That explains why you’re talking to me” OW THIS POOR KID
So Michael talks about the Squip, and how he’s done a lot of research on it, and points out how it’s REALLY FUCKING WEIRD how there’s NOTHING ON THE INTERNET about it. Like, what’s not on the internet? (a full video bootleg of the two river cast of be more chill that’s what jdshfjhds) So eventually, Michael found a story from a dude he was playing Warcraft with, and how that guy’s brother went from a straight D student to going to Harvard. Next thing that happened to him? WELL HE’S IN A MENTAL HOSPITAL! HE “WENT NUTS”! JESUS CHRIST!
Michael starts calling out how SHADY the whole Squip thing is (Michael Mell my wonderful gaymer you helped him get the fucking squip <3 I stand by my headcanon that they’re both stupid as fuck they have one braincell between them they usually have half each Michael just has the whole braincell at this moment in time). How it’s weird how you can’t look it up on the internet, how it’s weird how it was just floating around in New Jersey... I mean, it’s an extremely advanced supercomputer. There’s so much they don’t know about it. Who made them? How did it get here? How do they know what it’s really doing to Jeremy? What it’s doing to his head?
And Jeremy really does not want to hear it. The Squip has helped him. The Squip gave him one small chance, one small bit of luck, a chance to escape the hell of being easily forgotten, at the bottom of the school hierarchy, and there’s no way he’s gonna let it go. He does not want to go back to being the loser.
He deflects, saying Michael’s just jealous, he’s just pissed Jeremy has one. You know, the universe owed him one. High school has been hell, he deserves to be able to go through life without worry. And sure, maybe some guy’s squip drove him crazy, but there is no guarantee that’ll happen to him!!
And then Michael reveals that it wasn’t the Squip that drove him crazy.
He went crazy trying to get it out.
There’s a moment of silence, before Jeremy says that he knows it won’t happen to him then, because why would he wanna remove the Squip?
Jeremy tries to leave, but Michael steps in front of him. Jeremy tells him to move. Michael asks what he’ll do if he doesn’t.
Six words later, Michael’s mental state shatters. Six words later, Jeremy is back with the partygoers. Six words later, Michael is alone.
With that, Jeremy leaves Michael in the bathroom by himself.
Leading to the BEST FUCKING SONG in the ENTIRE MUSICAL. That isn’t a controversial statement, either. Someone tells you “Yeah this song is the best in the musical” and basically everyone will agree.
Because for five minutes, the show stops, and gives Michael a GUT PUNCH OF A SONG.
Michael In The Bathroom.
There’s a VERY HIGH CHANCE you’ve at least heard of it. There are LOADS of animatics of it for basically every fandom except Omori which personally angers me but we’re not talking about that WE’RE TALKING ABOUT MICHAEL.
This song. This song gets me. It fucking shattered me and everyone who listens to it. This song takes Michael from “Best friend who got left behind” to “This POOR KID has ABANDONMENT ISSUES and has just been LEFT BEHIND and now he’s having a FUCKING MENTAL BREAKDOWN” BECAUSE YEP! THIS IS THE MENTAL BREAKDOWN SONG! And HOO BOY, is it painful. It is such an EMOTIONAL GUT-PUNCH because up to this point, Michael’s just been a chill guy who got mad at Jeremy for leaving him behind for popularity and an evil tictac, and then the show gives him a fucking I-want song where he completely breaks down and at one point has a sensory overload and then breaks down sobbing and wishes he’d never been born and it fucking hURTS and I just I HAVE TO SHOW YOU THE LYRICS IT IS THE ONLY WAY YOU CAN UNDERSTAND
FUCK
FUCK
To get a bit personal (skip over this paragraph if you don’t wanna read a mini-vent (/nm if you do)): I thought I related to “being lonely’s stupid tough” in Loser Geek Whatever, but then MITB comes on and the second line is “I could stay right here or disappear, and nobody’d even notice at all” and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut with how much that fucking called me out. It’s part of the reason I personally ADORE this song - because I can’t think of any other songs that have captured my emotions so well. I mean, obviously I haven’t had a friend get a supercomputer implanted in their brain and they started getting more popular and they literally blocked me from their vision so I tried confronting them with my worries and they ignored my concerns and called me a loser and left me behind to have a mental breakdown, but. A lot of times, I do feel really lonely, even when talking to my friends. I feel replaceable and forgettable, like I could be removed from the situation, removed from the group, hell, removed from the world, and no one would notice. No one would care. They’d just continue on with their lives like nothing happened. Like I never existed. And I’m sure I’m not alone. I’m sure that basically everyone has somewhat related to this song at some point.
OKAY TIME FOR ANALYSIS. WELCOME TO MY THERAPY SESSION /HJ
So before we begin, there’s something very cool in the first line that I like, and I’m probably reaching, but here we go: Michael feeling like he could disappear, and no one would notice... KINDA PARALLELS JEREMY.
So in More Than Survive, there are the lyrics “I don’t want to be a hero/Just want to stay in the line”, “I navigate the dangerous hall/Focus on a poster there on the wall/Avoiding any eye contact at all/And trying hard to remain unseen”, and “I’m never gonna be the cool guy/I’m more the one who’s left out/Of all the characters at school/I am not the one who the story’s about”. Just a general theme of feeling forgettable that’s furthered by the Squip Song, where Rich says that on the school social map, Jeremy is “just a blip.” In Be More Chill Part 2, the Squip says “You won’t feel left out or unsure”. Bringing this to Loser Geek Whatever, there’s the lyrics “Think I felt inconsequential/Since middle school began/I knew I had no potential/To be the leading man” and “If Brooke can look me in the eye/Like I’m some normal, handsome guy”. And the themes in LGW of Jeremy being lonely adds to the vibes that Jeremy feels like he could be forgotten and no one would care. And right in this song, Michael says “I could stay right here or disappear/And nobody’d even notice at all”.
These parallels are very interesting. It shows that Michael and Jeremy have the same worst fear - being overlooked, forgotten, isolated, alone. It’s just that Jeremy’s scared of being forgotten by society at large, and Michael’s scared of being forgotten by Jeremy. And Jeremy fights to not feel like that. He fights to not be a blip at the bottom of the school social map. But in doing so, he leaves Michael behind. In his fight to not feel forgotten and isolated and alone, Jeremy feels he must make his best friend feel forgotten and isolated and alone, and that is FASCINATING. Like... BMC’s writing can be weak in places, but in this song (well basically all the scenes with Michael, but this song especially), it fucking hits and it hits hard.
Now moving on to the rest of the song, because that was all from the first two fucking lines.
So, one thing I get from this song is that Michael does not talk about his feelings. At least, not around people. This was shown in Two Player Game (”will you be too cool for... for video games?”), and it’s leaned into more here. “I’ll wait as long as I need, until my face is dry/Or I’ll just blame it on weed or something in my eye.” Hell, even Michael only breaking down in the bathroom, in a private place where no one can see, supports this.
Now for Michael’s sensory overload (the knock-knock-knock-knock part). I love that part so much, and not because it’s stimmy like how I react to most of the little parts of songs I love, but because it feels realistic to me. Feeling like everything’s too loud, too overwhelming, too fast. It’s an awful feeling, and this song captures it perfectly I feel so seen by this song
The way I see the “But I can’t hear knocking anymore” line is that there genuinely was someone knocking and they left, though some people thing it was a hallucination. But whether the knocking was real or not doesn’t really matter. What matters is how Michael interpreted it stopping. And I think that in his wrecked mental state, Michael would interpret someone leaving as “They don’t care. No one cares.”
Is it logical? Absolutely not. But as someone with anxiety, jealousy, and really bad confirmation bias when it comes to what people think of me, I can easily say that when you’re mentally overloaded with pain and loneliness, logic kinda goes out the window. Confirmation bias can be a bitch, especially when it’s confirmation bias for “Everyone hates me actually.”
Michael’s longing for the past is another very relatable thing. I’m pretty sure everyone is nostalgic for some better time. We’re nostalgic for being able to go outside without needing to wear a mask. We’re nostalgic for being able to talk to our friends face-to-face. We’re nostalgic for fandoms that once burned bright that are now just embers. We’re nostalgic for talking with friends we’ve drifted apart from, laughing and joking and enjoying each others company. We yearn for those times when we felt really, truly happy and content, times that we desperately wish would come back, because we want to recapture that feeling.
God, there’s something for everyone in this song. Something anyone can relate to, because this song is, at its core, about loneliness, and as sad as it is to say, loneliness is a common denominator among every human.
If you haven’t listened to the song and you’re wondering why “And there’s no denying, I’m just-” was cut off. IT WAS BECAUSE MICHAEL BROKE DOWN CRYING. SOMEONE GET HIM THERAPY PLEASE OH MY GOD I JUST WANNA HUG HIM
(A quick note: in More Than Survive Reprise, Jeremy says “All in all, a not too heinous day”. The word choice is interesting, because here, Michael says “This is a heinous night”. Continuing with the parallels - as Jeremy becomes “cool,” Michael’s mental state declines.)
And then the song starts building again, starting with Michael wishing he’d fucking KILLED HIMSELF, and then he fucking completely breaks down, hating himself for everything. For coming to the party. For not just staying home. For being seen as just a stoner. For having no one who knows who he really is. Because no one does know who he is, and they don’t care, either. The only person who knew him, really knew him, was Jeremy, and he’s stabbed him in the back and left him behind. He’s just a fucking loser, all alone, crying in the bathroom, and is there a sadder sight than that?
The way the song ends, along with the line “Michael who you don’t know” in every chorus reinforces that Jeremy was really the only person who knew Michael. He knew all Michael’s interests, he loved playing video games with him, he lit up when he saw him in More Than Survive, he was genuinely disappointed when the Squip said Michael left the mall without him, he picked up on Michael’s worries in Two Player Game and comforted him, he wanted both of them to go buy the Squip together, hell, before he took the Squip, he offered to split the Squip between them. Jeremy was literally the only person at school who really knew and genuinely cared about Michael.
But everyone else?
All you know about him is his name.
(also it’s my personal headcanon that brooke came in sobbing because she got cheated on again (don’t ask) and she and michael vented to each other about how they’re been fucked over by this one specific guy because they should be friends)
Anyway that was the most emotional scene in the entire fucking show, if they’d had cut it out for pacing the show would have been so much worse, it elevated Michael from “I would die for you” to “*slaps roof on michael* YOU CAN FIT SO MUCH ANGST IN THIS KID *sobbing*”, it’s definitely part of why he’s such a fan favorite, it makes him more relatable with all the elements of loneliness, it’s incredible, it’s amazing, please listen to this fucking song
So as much as I’d love to cry over Michael forever, we gotta get to the happy ending so let’s cut back to the main character
Jeremy talks to Christine and they make weird noises together and it’s so fucking cute they’re such neurodivergent dorks, Rich is still looking for Mountain Dew Red, Jeremy asks Christine out and she’s like “Tbh I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship until I know who I am” which SO VALID QUEEN, Squip turns back on and tells Jeremy HE NEEDS TO LEAVE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, and then the next thing that happens is arson.
So we get a banger of a song called Smartphone Hour that is very stim. So in it, local gossip Jenna Rolan tells Chloe (who. tried to. uh. sleep with jeremy. thus jeremy and brooke broke up because the squip kinda made jeremy date brooke to get popular which was a major dick move i know i brushed over this let’s ignore that i’m too ace for this bullshit) at the party last night, Rich was acting very not okay. Chloe’s like “Damn, Rich really shouldn’t get so high he’s too short for that” (NO ONE LETS RICH FORGET HE’S SHORT DJHFSHFDS) and Jenna’s like “CHLOE. RICH WASN’T DRUNK. I HEARD FROM THIS GUY THAT HE DIDN’T HAVE A FUCKIN DROP OF ALCOHOL. SO OF FULL SOBER MIND... YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT HE DID... YOU REALLY WANNA KNOW.... HERE YOU GO THEN *beat drop* RICH SET A FIRE AND HE BURNED DOWN THE HOUSE WOAAHHH RICH SET A FIRE AND HE BURNED DOWN THE HOUSE WOAAH I THOUGHT I WAS DREAMING EVERYBODY WAS SCREAMING WHEN RICH SET A FIRE AND HE BURNED DOWN THE HOUSE WHEN RICH SET A FIRE AND HE BURNED DOWN THE HOUUUSE”
The news of Rich spreads like wildfire, pun intended. People start acting like they knew Rich and they feel so bad for him, and Be More Chill says enby rights.
Honestly, I really love this song. Yeah, the lyrics are a bit on the nose, but it’s fun as hell and very stim and I like it a lot.
Meanwhile, Jeremy is really starting to question the Squip. Michael’s words clearly stuck in his mind. He asks why the Squip is here. It could be inside presidents, world leaders, and it’s in some high school student? Why? What does it have to gain? Squip’s like “Bro it’s my goal to help you and improve your life” and Jeremy’s like “OH WELL THAT’S WORKED OUT SPLENDID! MY BEST FRIEND HATES ME! I HURT BROOKE! CHRISTINE ISN’T INTO ME!”
AND THEN WE GET A FUCKING INCREDIBLE VILLAIN SONG CALLED THE PITIFUL CHILDREN WHERE THE SQUIP IS LIKE “DUDE I’VE HELPED YOU SO MUCH BY SHOCKING YOU WHEN YOU SLOUCH OR DISOBEY ME, BUT IF YOU WANT TO ACHIEVE YOUR GOALS, WE NEED TO SYNC UP WITH THE ENTIRE SCHOOL. WE NEED TO HELP THEM ALL YOUR PEERS ARE JUST SO INCOMPLEEEETE YOU CAN’T SEE IT BUT THEY’RE ALL IN PAAAAIN THEIR OPERATING SYSTEM’S OBSOLEEEETE SO LET’S COMPLETE THE CHAINS AND GET INSIDE THOSE BRAINS LET’S SAVE THE PITIFUL CHILDREN WOOOOAAAHHH LET’S SAVE THE PITIFUL CHILDREN WOAAAAAHHHH LET’S TEACH THE PITIFUL CHILDREN WHO HAVEN’T A CLUE JUST WHAT TO DOOOOO HEELP THEM TO HEEEELP YOU” GOD WHY DO ALL THE SONGS IN THIS sHOW SLAP SO HARD AND THIS SONG HAS THE SQUIP MAKING ROBOT NOISES AND IT’S AMAZING
Anyway in this song Jenna gets squipped and we learn that she wants people to be as interested in her life as she is in theirs and no one is and that hurts god I feel you queen, also Rich somehow got enough Squips for the ENTIRE SCHOOL. SO YEAH. NOT HARD TO GUESS WHAT THE SQUIP WANTS. If everyone is squipped, they can all follow orders, Jeremy gets his dreams. It would be a good plan if it weren’t so fUCKEd UP AND EVIL
(so I should mention there’s been a subplot of a play)
We cut to Jeremy’s house and Jeremy has an argument with his dad, who is very understandably concerned about him. Jeremy’s acting VERY different, and it’s worrying him. Jeremy blows up at him for not acting like a dad since their mom left, just “waiting around for mom to get back.” Get therapy
Jeremy’s dad then proves himself to be very cool by realizing that him just wallowing in depression and not being an actual dad has been hurting his son, so he’s going to pull himself out of it, put on his fucking pants (don’t ask), and he’s gonna actually help his fucking son and this song is deadass called the Pants Song and it has no right to slap so hard
We cut to MIchael and he’s burning a bunch of mementos from his and Jeremy’s friendship, AND THEN JEREMY’S DAD SHOWS UP AND DEADASS ASKS MICHAEL “DO YOU LOVE HIM.” MICHAEL DOES NOT ANSWER, HE’S JUST LIKE “😳 what”. HE IS HAVING A REALIZATION. LESS THAN A MINUTE LATER IS THE LYRIC “BUT I’M NOT WHAT HE WANTS” “BUT YOU’RE JUST WHAT HE NEEDS” THIS ISN’T A FUCKING JOKE THIS HAPPENS
MICHAEL
Every day we stray further and further from Michael heterosexuality this is a good thing
Anyway Michael agrees that you know what? If he’s gonna try harder to be Jeremy’s friend (michael. michael.) then Jeremy’s dad has to try harder to be Jeremy’s dad and they both resolve to be better for Jeremy and it’s beautiful and amazing and I love it
Anyway the play subplot I’ve brushed over is happening and rapidly colliding with the main plot. So basically it’s Midsummer Night’s Dream with zombies and it’s amazing. Anyway Jeremy shows up and goes to Christine is like “Hey hey Christine, you know how you weren’t gonna date anyone because you needed to figure out who you were? And you know how you love play rehersal because you know what comes next and you know what to do? WELL, what if you knew who you were? What if it was like play rehersal all the time? All you need to do is take this thing from Japan and you’ll know who you are!”
In the bootleg I watched Christine KNEW what a Squip was because it hurt someone she cared about and I think that was an EXCELLENT choice and wasn’t in the og apparently and whoever added Christine knowing about the Squip was a genius but that’s irrelevant. The important thing is that she’s like “That sounds awful??? I wanna figure myself out without the help of some fuckin pill???” and there’s this FANTASTIC moment where Jeremy says the Squip will help Christine be better, and Christine asks “What’s wrong with me now?” IT’S GREAT I LOVE THIS SHOW
Anyway Christine exits, and Jeremy’s like “SHE’S RIGHT, I CAN’T DO THIS, WE NEED TO GET RID OF THE SQUIPS” but remember how Jenna was squpped? Yeah, Jeremy’s two braincells function for a minute and he’s like “WAIT A MINUTE. THE SQUIP SINGING ABOUT HOW WE’RE GONNA 'SAVE THE PITIFUL CHILDREN’ AND ‘GET INSIDE THOSE BRAINS’ AND HAVING A WHOLE SHOEBOX FULL OF SQUIPS. PROBABLY MEANT THE SQUIP IS GONNA GIVE THE WHOLE SCHOOL A SQUIP. WELL THAT AIN’T GOOD.”
Anyway the Squip’s gone full evil AI, we learn the drama teacher who has one of the best lines in the musical (”WE WILL NOW TAKE A FIVE MINUTE BREAK. SO THAT I CAN EAT A HOT POCKET.”) has been squipped, Jeremy’s like “ALCOHOL MESSED YOU UP I’LL GET DRUNK” and the Squip’s like “LMAO YOU CAN’T BE DRUNK FOREVER” then Jeremy remembers how desperate Rich was to find Mountain Dew Red and was like “WAIT WHAT IF THAT SQUIPS WHAT IF THAT TURNS OFF THE SQUIP” and the Squip is like “DUH??? WHY DO YOU THINK IT WAS DISCONTINUED??? AND THERE’S NO WAY YOU CAN GET IT BECAUSE YOU DON’T HAVE LIKE A FUCKIN TIME MACHINE” and Jeremy’s like “HA JOKES ON YOU MY BOYF RIEND IS NEURODIVERGENT AND LOVES COLLECTING 90S SOFT DRINKS <3” and then Squip’s like “HA TOO BAD YOU BROKE UP WITH YOUR BOYF RIEND” Squip homophobic everything’s going wrong the Squip’s voice is distorted Brooke and Chloe are both Squipped Jeremy tried calling Michael but is currently fighting for control of his body all hope is lost AND THEN IN THE NICK OF TIME
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FUCK YOU SQUIP LOVE WINS THE BOYF IS HERE
SO MICHAEL HAS SHOWED UP TO SAVE HIS BOYF HE WAS IN THE AUDIENCE LIKE “WAIT A MINUTE THIS IS TOO DAMN GOOD FOR A SCHOOL PLAY THEY’VE ALL BEEN SQUIPPED HAVEN’T THEY” AND JEREMY WHO WAS SO FUCKING HAPPY TO SEE HIM ALREADY IS LIKE “YOU CAME TO SEE ME IN THE SCHOOL PLAY? 🥹” WHICH IS SO GAY THEY WERE IN LOVE AND YOU CAN’T TELL ME OTHERWISE AND MICHAEL’S LIKE “YEP AND I EVEN BROUGHT MOUNTAIN DEW RED”
So Michael’s like “AIGHT. I HAVE MOUNTAIN DEW RED. BUT I NEED AN APOLOGY FOR YOU KNOW, ABANDONING ME” and Jeremy’s like “MICHAEL I LOV EYOU BUT THE WORLD IS ABOUT TO END” and Michael’s like “JEREMY YOU FUCKING ABANDONED ME AND I HAD A PANIC ATTACK IN THE BATHROOM I KINDA NEED AN APOLOGY BECAUSE I’M FUCKING MAD???”
So Jeremy’s about to apologize but Squip homophobic and blocks Jeremy’s vocal chords so he can’t say it AND THEN MAKES HIM FIGHT MICHAEL AND MICHAEL REVEALS HE DOES CARE ABOUT POPULARITY HE JUST KNOWS IT WON’T HAPPEN SO HE JUST VIBES WHICH ME TOO KING I KNOW I HAVE NO CHANCE SO I AM JUST HERE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME WHICH I DON’T MOST OF THE TIME BUT TRUST ME WERE I NOT NERFED BY DEPRESSION I WOULD BE A GOD
So Jeremy fights the Squip for control like crazy, apologizes (HE SHOULD HAVE BROKEN DOWN RAMBLING ABOUT HOW MUCH HE’D FUCKED UP AND MICHAEL SHOULD HAVE CUT HIM OFF BY RUNNING AT HIM AND HUGGING HIM WE COULD’VE HAD IT ALL), Jake gets squipped and he’s like “LIVIN THE UPGRADE UPGRADE GOD I LOVE ME” which I feel that because occasionally I feel like I could kill god but none of that matters in my brain because Michael is holding Jeremy
Your honor they are in love
Anyway Chloe and Brooke show up, and Jeremy realizes that there’s a few drops of Mountain Dew Red left, and there’s a rEPRISE OF TWO PLAYER GAME AS THEY SNEAK ACROSS THE ROOM AND GET THE MDR THEY ARE IN LOVE
Jenna Rolan shows up (the script refers to her as the final boss which is just funny), Michael gets dragged away by the Squip zombies, Squip stops Jeremy from drinking the MDR, and then Christine shows up and AH FUCK SHE’S SQUIPPED AND IS IN LOVE WITH JEREMY NOW APPARENTLY
So upon seeing this, upon seeing that technically, he’s gotten what he originally wanted, Jeremy’s like “KNOW WHAT. FUCK IT.” and gives Christine the Mountain Dew Red, under the assumption that it’s gonna free her and her alone.
BOY IS HE WRONG! Christine takes the MDR and everyone starts screaming. Christine starts screaming, Jake starts screaming, Jenna starts screaming, Michael starts screaming but out of having no fucking clue what is going on, Jeremy starts screaming, there are a lot of J names in this show and I just noticed that, and somehwere Rich probably starts screaming as well. So anyway everyone who was Squipped passes out, and the Squip fuckimgn dies it’s great.
Anyway Jeremy wakes up in a hospital bed. Rich is in the same room, and describes losing the Squip as feeling like you “lost a piece of yourself.” Rich is thrilled that the Squip is gone. He then has an epiphany and realized he’s bisexual WOAH HE’S BISEXUAL I DIDN’T KNOW THAT
Anyway Michael shows up, Jeremy’s dad shows up, and there’s this song that means so much to me personally called “Voices In My Head” and it’s about how yeah you’ve all got voices in your head but you can’t listen to them you just gotta listen to yours, also Jeremy and Christine go out and I’m not mad about it because they’re honestly adorable fjdshfhds, there’s a hint the Squip is still in the back of Jeremy’s mind just with no control, and the musical ends
So yeah that’s the show, it’s so fucking fun, the writing isn’t great sometimes (the ending of the show is the weakest part), but I still like it a lot! The songs slap, the characters are great, I’ve had several mental breakdowns to Michael in The Bathroom because it’s a fantastic mental breakdown song highly recommend questioning everything about your friendships and self while it plays in the background as you sing along probably wrecking your throat slightly until you have every word memorized, and BMC is just fun as hell and has a lot of potential for angst fics. So yeah, go find bootlegs of it on YouTube, there’s also some bootlegs linked here and also this is just seratonin and makes my soul happy (don’t worry it’s completely sfw), here are two posts talking about the musical but shorter and more accurate, have fun, scroll through my BMC tag, please join the fandom I’m lonely
Uhhhh take my favorite BMC comic okay byee
Also Jeremy and Michael are in love
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i feel like im annoying lol but here i am again 🥴
🥴 how do da boys react to a super bimbo mc like shes busty, sweet, innocent, helpful as much as she can be and doesnt really realize when people are hitting on her, she just thinks theyre being extra friendly. (Tamaki, izuku, shoto, denki, bakougo) or any of ur choice
Sorry if I’m being annoying ( •᷄ὤ•᷅)？ and tysm
bimbo s/o
character(s) : bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, amajiki tamaki (bnha)
probably (?) part one // ?
legend : [Y/N = your name] female! s/o, quirk not specific
headcanon type : fluff, crack (x reader)
note(s) : sooo 🤩 it’s my birthday tomorrow, not excited about that?? not sure! but im definitely gonna post more tomorrow, just because
»»————- ♡ ————-««
bakugou katsuki
you didn’t seem like his type tbh. you’re kinda an airhead, and you’re sweet and helpful to everyone
and awfully innocent,,
so, you seemed like the person that bakugou would try and stay away from, but nope!
not in this case. i’m not sure what conspired in this explosive blond’s head, but he had a oddly specific attraction to you
he used to hate being around you, but it’s also quite entertaining being around you but why, you may ask?
not only are you super nice, and helpful, but you’re very likable too! which caused you to get secret admirers, and fanboys
but you also so happen to be clueless as fuck, so katsuki would always stick around— obviously very amused, only to tell you what their true intentions are
“what do they mean, go out? like,, outside?”
“no, dumbo. they wanna date you.”
“..like the calendar?”
“hah?? are you dumb?” he actually hated how oblivious you were at first, but he just got used to it
but this clueless airhead trait of yours is what he also hates, because when he developed feelings for you— he’d have to tell you
and,, he’s not the best with being direct with romantic stuff. so— you can see how that went.
he ended up confessing you in the most direct way he could’ve said it, but you still. didn’t. understand.
“fuck sake, i want to be your significant other. your fucking lover, the bitch that’ll be with you until this dumbass brain of yours stops working.”
okay, he was a little too direct, but at least you know his feelings!
when you both finally get together, everyone is shocked. like,, you, the sweetheart that likes helping people— dating thee bakugou katsuki??
everyone thought you were threatened to date him, because you didn’t understand other people’s advances— but in reality, katsuki just told you what he felt
straight from the heart.
also, since you’re also quite busty, katsuki loves sleeping on them— he literally won’t sleep, until he has his head resting on those milkers of yours
“maybe this is all you’re good for, huh? a fuckin’ head rest. there might not be anything up there, but at least it gives me some good fuckin’ sleep.”
he,, doesn’t mean that. you’re useful in so many other ways, but he loves pretending that he thinks that way, because of your replies
“ah, yes! i’m fine with being your head rest, katsuki. rest well, love!”
you’re not hurt, because he makes it a point to tell you multiple times a day that you mean lots to him.
but he gets super mad when people tell you that you’re stupid. because he can only tell you that!!
todoroki shouto
you also didn’t seem like you’d be his type,, everyone thought he would’ve wanted someone that’s smart as momo, or something similar
but he’s very content with being with you, for reasons he can’t seem to figure out.
he has his habit of watching you help people from afar, and he couldn’t help but smile whenever he engages in conversations with you
yeah sure, you might be more of an airhead than most people— but you have a heart of gold! and that’s what gathered his attention
sometimes, he’s quite clueless to some social cues— but even he can connect the dots
which you can’t seem to do. but you’re in luck! shouto’s usually the one that tells you what they mean
it’s something he loves and hates, only because of how popular you are with people in general.
sometimes, shouto debates if he should even tell you what they mean— because well,, he likes you.
usually, shouto would interpret things to you like this
“,, they like you,, romantically.”
“shou, are you sure? they look like they wanna be my friend!” he lets you call him by his first name, just because of how content you look by calling him ‘shouto’
he ends up whispering something into your ear, and your eyes light up in realization. “oh! so how princess bubblegum likes marceline?”
“,, yeah.”
but being shouto todoroki has it’s advantages. he isn’t afraid of being as direct as he could possibly be.
“may i have the honor of being your lifelong partner?”
“..?”
“oh, romantically. i’d love to be your lover, Y/N.”
“..oh! that’s what you meant.”
the way he sees you stumble with your words, as you pace back in forth— completely flustered by his words
makes him smile
and it all ends well when his friends see that his wallpaper is literally him laying down on your chest
which is something he always wanted to do
“shouto,, did you finally confess?!”
“yes. they said yes.”
they’re not really surprised that you understood, courtesy to shouto’s bluntness.
he is your protector against all of the people that make you seem useless. man literally lashed out when his father asked him to date someone with ‘more intelligence’
“Y/N may not be the definition of being book smart, but Y/N’s not useless!”
in short— he’s the bimbo protector! he’ll always be patient around you, and he would never dare to dumb you down.
amajiki tamaki
oh lOrd, please help him
you’re so kind, sweet, and helpful. you’d help anyone— regardless of their personality. and that’s what made tamaki interested in you
but you’re also very popular. which he could see why— since you’re attractive in a unique and special way.
tamaki absolutely disliked the idea of your kindness being taken advantaged of. i mean,, the guts of some people!
but he also hated being the one to break the news to you good or bad
he’s not good with the blunt stuff either, and he might’ve been worried about being around you— because well,, you look like you wouldn’t even hurt a fly.
“tamaki, what do they mean by ‘coming home with them for a nice time’ do they.. want to play mario cart with me?”
he looks like he needs to pass out, but he ends up telling you anyway. he’s just lucky that you could hear him.
but he sighs in relief when you end up kindly declining
nejire and mirio are SO amused by this pairing. i mean, it’s an interesting dynamic! how could they not be invested?
yet, they refuse to even explain things to you, especially when tamaki’s around to do said explaining
because apparently, ‘it’ll help you socialize more, especially with Y/N!’
but remember when i said that tamaki wasn’t great with the blunt approach? yeah— he’d have a heart attack, just trying to explain his feelings
“i— uhm how do i say this,, would you like t-to go out for some dinner with m-me?”
“oh sure! i should go tell mirio and nejire” you’d say that with a smile, and it felt like he was going to pass away on the spot.
nejire and mirio were the ones the tell you that ‘no, tamaki doesn’t want to be friendly with you, because he wants to romantically date you.’
and it felt like forever when they were explaining how and why, while tamaki was sitting in the corner.
but thank GOD! because you like him too!
super hesitant on resting on your chest, i mean,, to him, it looked like the nicest pillow for the deepest sleep! but he wasn’t sure if that’d be okay
because no!! to!! taking!! advantage!! of!! Y/N’s!! kindness!!
speaking of that, despite the fact that he’s socially awkward— he will not hesitate on defending you from any haters!
like, when people say that “tamaki and Y/N are such an awkward couple. tamaki’s super awkward, it looks like there’s nothing in Y/N’s brain. maybe she’s brainless”
because how dare they. not everyone is book smart— but that doesn’t give people the right to call you stupid!
“Y/N’s not brainless! she’s kind, helpful, and the sweetest p-person i have ever met. i suggest you take that back!”
in short— it gives him heart palpitations just having to explain things to you, but at the end of the day, it’s all worth it, if he can be with you
»»————- ♡ ————-««
likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission
#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha imagines#bnha x y/n#bnha fluff#todoroki shouto x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki imagines#todoroki x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou imagines#amajiki imagines#amajiki tamaki x reader#amajiki x y/n#amajiki x reader#bnha headcanons#mha x you#mha headcanons#bnha x you
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(Mammon x MC/Reader)
Prompt: "She doesn't compare to you. No one does.”
Genre: Angst, hurt(emotional)/comfort.
Pairing: GN!MC/Reader x Mammon
Summary: You and Mammon finally get to enjoy a well-deserving shopping trip just between the two of you. Just as you are about to hit the next shop, your attention is caught by an image advertised in the street.
Warnings: N/A
A/N: I wanted to try my hands at a prompt that is tagged as "fluff", but of course I ended up turning it into something angsty instead. But I like sad stuff, so that still works for me.
-------------------------------------------
It wasn't often that you got to spend time with Mammon without having any of his brothers around to bother you. But you had made it very clear to them that these few hours after school would be spent with Mammon, and only him. And for today's trip, you two had decided to go shopping in one of the busiest streets in the Devildom.
Clothes and jewelry stores, malls- you had done them all. When most of this time had been spent doing window shopping, Mammon had still insisted on getting at least a few bags of purchased goods for each of you by the end of the day. After all, what was the point of going on a shopping trip, if you didn't end up emptying your bank account only to regret it later?
And so, thanks to the demon's wonderful influence, your arms had now several bags hanging off of them. There was a certain guilt still looming over your head as you realized way overboard you might have gotten with your purchases, but Mammon promised he would take care of any financial problems you could encounter in the near future because of that. You still wondered how he was going to manage it, him being Mammon and all...
"Damn, now THAT'S what I call a good haul! Look at ya!" The white-haired demon grinned as he watch you hop out of the store, the glass doors opening automatically at your presence to let you out. He placed his wrists on his hips as his own bags dangled in his hands. "What'cha got for yourself this time?"
"They actually had that jacket I saw in a magazine the other day!" The doors closed behind you as you showed the white bag which contained the jacket. "You were right, that store was amazing. I can't believe you never showed it to me before."
"Ha! Told ya the Great Mammon knew where the best treasures were! Consider it an exclusive info, because I ain't gonna share more if any of my brothers are around next time." Mammon turned around before flipping a few of his bags over his shoulder, as you instantly began to trot to get to his level.
"What? So all this time you knew about it and you didn't tell me? Just because Asmo comes with us sometimes?" You expressed shock, right before your eyebrows joined together. "Really, as if you couldn't have told me over text or something."
"And have you go without me?! Nah, ain't gonna happen- you'd just get lost and end up in the worst store possible." Mammon glanced your way, and you could only smirk at his poor excuse.
"Sure, you're right. I forgot that humans don't have the same flawless sense of orientation as demons do." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, Mammon didn't seem to register it as he nodded at your words.
"Exactly! Even if I gave you the full address, who knows where you'd end up? I don't want ya to come and complain to me afterwards, so it's gotta be with me or nothin'."
Even as you rolled your eyes, you noticed Mammon's face slightly turning away from yours, probably to hide the extra shade of color that had appeared on his cheeks ever so discreetly. Even when he was in his usual tsundere mood, it was endearing to see how concerned he was for your safety. And just how badly he wanted to be alone with you.
"So, where to next?" You asked without really thinking, surprising yourself that even after your extensive purchasing, you still wanted to do more. Or maybe it was that you didn't want this date to end right away. The past few weeks had been nothing but the brothers interrupting each other when any of them found themselves alone with you, so getting to spend some alone time with one of them, especially with Mammon, deserved to be extended a bit more.
"Glad ya asked!" As if a battery had been plugged into him, the demon brandished his arm into the air, the bags swinging by his face and missing him by a few inches. "I got this whole place where they're sellin' tons of stuff for pretty cheap, but it's actually authentic branded things. See, they're actually sold to that one guy who then has to sell them to another guy, and..."
As you listened to Mammon explain how he was able to find "authentic stuff" (probably not that authentic, you were pretty sure about that) for less than a quarter of its original price, your eyes found themselves drifting to an impressive ad plastered on a building the two of you were walking by. Recognizing the habit of Majolish to put their models on display for everyone to see was pretty easy, but that wasn't what caught your eye in the moment.
What tuned Mammon down completely in your ears, were the models themselves. The second born, sitting on a stool with a ripped shirt and pants, a few accessories hanging off his neck and barely covering anything of his exposed chest. He looked serious, staring straight at the objective- and at you, while the light shined on him to completely capture his frame for the picture.
And sitting down in the middle of the shot, between his legs, was a female demon wearing a red leather dress, her head resting on top of Mammon's leg. The clawed hand dangling off his knee- covered in golden rings, seemed to taunt you, as well as the piercing yellow eyes she had. Saying she wasn't beautiful would be lying. In fact, she was absolutely stunning. A perfect model for a perfect shot. Just looking at her made you feel small, like a prey that was about to be devoured by a hungry beast, the longer you were looking at her.
But that's what demons were supposed to make you feel like, right?
"Hey!" Mammon called out from the distance he had put between the two of you since you had stopped walking beside him. "Yo, MC!"
Watching as you kept staring into nothing, Mammon rolled his shoulders with a furrowed brow before walking back toward you, his head tilting to the side as he noticed your dead expression.
"Huuh hello, Devildom to MC? In which realm did ya get lost this time?"
"They replaced it." The words that left your mouth were weak, almost too silent for him to hear. It's as if all of the energy you had had evaporated from your body in an instant.
"Huh?" Mammon grew a bit concerned at this sudden change. His eyes perked up at the ad you were looking at, as you continued.
"The shoot we did together." Finally, you spared yourself from the sight, your gaze dropping to the ground. "They already replaced it with another one."
As soon as Mammon understood why *this* ad in particular seemed to be upsetting you so much, his jaw was already clenching. He remembered the stars he had seen in your eyes the previous week when you saw yourself on the Majolish ad, posing beside him- a shoot opportunity you had gotten while accompanying him after RAD a few days prior. In the middle of his shoot, he practically didn't leave any choice to his agent and had insisted that you be included in the shots to promote one of the new pieces of jewelry the brand was planning to release in the upcoming months. Asmo, who was there to witness your reaction on that day the three of you went out, had even taken a hundred pictures or so of you posing in front of the ad.
Except that, the jewelry you had posed with, was now present on the new model posing alongside Mammon.
He had made sure to engrave that smile of yours in his head at the time, even going so far as to snap a picture of your face while you were too focused on Asmo to notice him. But now, there was absolutely no trace of that same happiness anymore.
"The fuck?" The snarl that left him shook the walls of his throat. "That wasn't supposed to be advertised before another month! Why'd they have to take ours so soon?!"
"It's okay, Mammon." The demon stopped growling as his eyes lowered on the hand that was clutching his arm. "I mean... I'm not a model. Figures they wouldn't put it up for long... I-I mean, look at me. Seriously, who would want to see my face being exposed for longer than they can bare? It's hard to imagine. I wouldn't probably have sold their product anyway, so... it's okay."
The look on your face was devastating. Despite trying your best to smile, the tears pricking in your eyes were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any second. Mammon felt his heart being stabbed with a thousand invisible daggers, he couldn't bear to watch you feeling insulted in such a way.
His bags were immediately dropped onto the floor, the demon no longer caring for any of the fragile items he may have bought. His hands swung forward to cup your cheeks, forcing your face up to look at him straight in the eyes.
"Hey hey, MC. C'mon, look at me."
You did your best not to let your vision turn blurry because of the upcoming tears, and stared back at Mammon, your bottom lip trembling weakly.
"I don't care what anyone, model agents or not, can say- you'd sell a thousand more times than any fuckin' models out there, okay? In fact, you're worth even more than their stupid jewelry!"
His thumb quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of your eye as his other hand came to rest on your temple.
"They just put that one up there because that model is famous. They don't care about what's really beautiful, they just want to boast their popularity to the rest of the world." The blue of his eyes seemed to radiate the closer he moved towards you. "But I know what's beautiful. And her? She doesn't compare to you. No one does."
You could only look down in shame as his hands never left you, closing your eyes shut to let a couple tears out before Mammon grabbed a tissue from his pocket to dry your face. He patiently waited a few seconds for you to calm down, soothing you with slow caresses of your hair until your shoulders stopped shaking.
"I'm sorry..." you muttered, sniffling as you passed a wrist over your eyes. "I don't know why that upset me so much..."
"Ya got nothing to be sorry about." Mammon retrieved his hands from your head, only to grab the bags that were hanging off of your arms. He somehow manages to hold them alongside his own behind him, before wrapping the other arm around your shoulder.
"Hey, I'd call this a day. How about I prepare ya a bath when we're home? Courtesy of the Great Mammon."
You nodded, your lips arching into a smile as you grabbed the hand hanging off your shoulder. The day was cut too short for your liking, but you didn't feel up for any additional purchases, or to properly enjoy your outing anymore.
"Will you wash my hair?" You entertwined your fingers with his as he gave them a gentle squeeze.
"Pah, of course! Who else but me could do that?" He huffed through his nose, shaking his head at such an obvious question. Your laugh ringing in his ears gave him a brief moment of respite.
But the demon furrowed his brows as he lead you into your walk back home, keeping you snuggled at his side. Holding the bags in his left hand, his white nails sharply digged into his palm the more steps he took alongside you.
Making them cry? Such a big, big mistake. One thing was sure, Mammon wasn't about to let that one pass.
"But before that..." The hiss that escaped his throat went unnoticed by the two of you as your head rested against his shoulder.
"I'll have a few calls to make."
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me mammon#obey me mc#obey me reader#obey me mammon x mc#mammon x mc#obey me angst#obey me prompts#obey me mammon x reader#obey me reader insert#om mammon#om mc#obey me swd#obey me writers#obey me writing#obey me fandom#obey me fic#mammon angy :)#obey me mc x mammon#obey me reader x mammon
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🦅Hawks HC’s🦅
This is SO unnecessarily long. Some NSFW. Minors do not interact.
- - - - -
General
Has zero social life or hobbies outside of work. He knows it’s unhealthy, but like, who has the time?? Oh? Lots of people do?? Haha what are healthy work/home boundaries? He desperately wants to retire and always talks about a world without heroes, but the truth is he would have no idea what to do with himself if he got his way. Take him to a park at midnight and watch him turn into a giant repressed child on a swing. He’ll do a standing-360 and it will be terrifying.
Listens to music way too loud in his headphones to drown out wind noise. Probably half deaf at this point. His musical taste is wild; listening history all over the fucking place. Algorithms have no idea what to do with him.
That visor? It’s prescription. Wow is he far-sighted. He wears glasses. He’s not blind without them (rather the opposite) but they help him see things directly in front of him without massive eye strain. Yeah, he looks really hot in glasses.
Prefers communicating via text. Sometimes it’s a lot of dumb memes, but mostly it’s sincere. He can say what he means when he doesn’t have to put on a public front.
Smokes like a chimney. Self medicates with stimulants. Coffee, tobacco, sugar. Fidgety, likes things in his mouth or hands. Gnashes on toothpicks and popsicle sticks. He really should go back to therapy, huh? His teeth are sparkling white for the cameras but his breath could use some work. Chews gum a lot to compensate, and always does it really loudly with a big shit-eating grin.
Impatient as fuuuuuck. Rude about it. If you take too long doing anything, you’re going to hear a foot tapping. He’ll smile and laugh it off, never ever directly criticize you about it. But lord, the dramatic sighs. He WILL nudge you out of the way and take over in order to finish a task faster, and it’s truly fucking annoying.
LOVES food. Has the metabolism of an actual bird. Will seize upon any excuse to eat. No need to be self-conscious about eating in front of him; he wants you to enjoy it. Steals bites from you and talks with his mouth full. Prefers street food and take-out, usually eats while walking or flying. Sit-down restaurants are an invitation for gawkers.
He’s one of those celebrities that looks way taller on TV. In real life, he’s small and compact. So you’re surprised the first time you see him in person. He has a big head. Literally.
If you’re taller or bigger than him, he does Not Care. He treats everyone like they’re four feet tall, even Endeavor. Everything you do is cute. If you’re actually short, he’s going to carry you around all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Collects big chunky overpriced watches. All the better to tell you you’re late.
Half his clothes are brand fucking new. Sometimes he forgets to take off the tags. (Don’t look at the prices, do NOT) He never seems to wear the same thing twice. He also never seems to go shopping. Brands just give him stuff, and he shrugs and goes “yeah okay.”
The other half of his clothes are old, faded, and patched up. Every item he acquires for himself has deep sentimental value. If you tell him to throw away that nasty ten-year-old pair of frayed cargo pants, be prepared to find out how wrong and evil you are for even suggesting it.
He doesn’t snore; he coos. Loudly. Like a fucking pigeon trapped in a megaphone.
- - - - -
Dating
Gift-giving is his love language. Bringing your favorite snacks. Leaving novelty magnets on your fridge. He found a copy of that book/game/movie you mentioned like a month ago, don’t you remember? If he has to go out of town on a job, he’ll bring back the ugliest possible souvenir, just to annoy you.
He likes gifting jewelry especially. Covering you in shiny baubles, little golden things. Not expensive, but unusual. Antiques or handmade, even bizarre vending machine crap. Gets really handsy if you wear or show off his gifts.
Since you’re the first person who has given him The Feels, if you are resistant to his advances (like, say, because he’s way too famous and you’re terrified he’s gonna break your heart) he’s going to go fucking nuts trying to woo you. Doesn’t have a single patient bone in his body but will wait as long as it takes for you to come around. He’ll act like he’s cool with just being friends at first, just hanging out, haha. Oh you’re busy today? That’s cool. Inside he’s shrieking like a tea kettle. Go ahead, make him wait.
Don’t bother giving him a key to your place. He’s coming in through the bedroom window or patio door. Just put out a damn welcome mat on your balcony... or a bird feeder.
A bit of a voyeur. He likes to watch you do your normal routine without interruption. He can see from miles away so if you’ve got your lights on at night, he’ll creep for a while before he comes in. It comforts him immensely, seeing a little slice of the world that isn’t constantly in need of saving.
Is super talkative and funny but a terrible communicator. Makes more jokes the worse he feels. Will almost never tell you what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know. You will learn to read between the lines and gradually notice his tiny unconscious cries for help. Back rubs make him emotional.
He shows up at your place at the weirdest times. All hours. You’re never ready. At first it was infuriating, because you wanted to look your best and have time to prepare, but you figure out pretty quickly that seeing you in your natural state is his favorite thing. He never gets to be around normal people, doing normal things. A boring, lazy afternoon is his idea of paradise.
He’ll pick through your things and ask a world of invasive questions. A medicine cabinet raider. He wants to know every fucking tiny thing about you, live vicariously through you.
He actually lives in a top floor penthouse. Because I mean, where else? Never spends any time there; mostly he seems to roost on the balcony. He has used the front door maybe once. He much prefers your place, and will only take you back to his after months of dating. It’ll take like, an entire emergency. You’ll end up in his bed by mistake.
Because when you finally come over, he’s embarrassed. Its sparse. White. Things in boxes. A new furniture smell. Like he’s not done moving in, though he’s lived there for years. He wants you to move in So Bad but doesn’t want to be pushy. If you don’t start leaving your stuff there, he’ll steal things from your apartment. Where the hell is your favorite t-shirt? Or that pillowcase you like? Dammit Keigo.
He’s a decent cook, a habit he made himself pick up because he thought it might make him feel more normal. It... didn’t. He never actually cooks until you give him an excuse. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and watch you eat every bite with big hungry eyes.
He’s got a separate wardrobe for his hero costume and all his feathers. Yeah. His feathers. Because he can detach and control his feathers at will, when he’s alone at home he kind of just... shucks off his wings. The first time you see him do it, your eyes fall out of your head. He walks around in a tee shirt and boxers with these ugly little stumps covered in brownish, blood-red down. It actually looks kind of gnarly, like he got mauled by a bear.
He’s never dated until you. No one has ever been in his apartment until you. No one has called him Keigo until you. He has some bigass intimacy issues. Because. Y’know. The trauma. But god, he wants you in his life so bad, even if he has no idea how to make time for your relationship.
He’ll want to keep you to himself for a while. Once you go public he’s going to have an arm around your shoulders at all times. Publicly Displays his Affection way more than is socially acceptable in Japan, and gives precisely -100,000 fucks.
His fans either love you or hate you. There is no in between. He will immediately take your phone and threaten to drop it from a great height if he catches you reading shitty gossip about the two of you. Does NOT care about his public image anymore, doesn’t want YOU to care about it either. He’s gonna retire soon anyway, remember? That’s a lie.
Being a charming motherfucker is the core of his public persona, so you will get jealous. A lot. He will flirt shamelessly without realizing it. He will get photographed in compromising positions with gorgeous people.
Once you accept that he’s basically an actor 80% of the time and that Hawks and Keigo are separate identities, you’ll both feel better. When he comes home (to YOU) and falls over exhausted and stops being Hawks(tm), when he scratches his ass or burps in front of you, when he yells to you from the bathroom, when he groans childishly about his shitty day while laying face-down in your lap, you’ll know you have nothing to worry about. Keigo is all yours.
Boundaries? Never heard of ‘em. He’s either a million lightyears away or he’s glued to your hip. The whiplash is astounding.
Absolutely says “I love you” wayyyyyy to soon. It thrills you but scares you off at the same time, because there’s no way Hawks - The Hawks - can actually mean it, right? (He does)
Rings? Nah. When things get serious, he will make a necklace out of a feather for you, and if you ever take it off, you better be asleep or in the shower. Even then you’re on thin fuckin ice. If you’re not wearing it he knows. He’s never mean about making you put it back on, it just makes him nervous if he can’t feel your heartbeat.
- - - - -
SPICY CHICKEN NUGGETS
High sex drive. Horny like 25/7. Probably a symptom of having way too much pent up stress.
Often takes care of it himself when he doesn’t have the emotional resources for anyone else, even his S.O. Figures you don’t want him coming on to you as often as he would like to, but he’s too stupid to talk to you about it first. Morning masturbator.
Yes he’s fucked around a lot but he’s not exactly a playboy either. People have always thrown themselves at him, and before he met you he let them do it. Especially when out of town and staying in a hotel. Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, etc.
He’d never be unfaithful to you though; his loyalty and dedication are frankly a little unsettling. Sometimes you feel like the only thing in his life other than hero work. Teach this man to knit. Make him join a book club. Christ. Anything.
Does in fact have seasonal mating patterns and it’s super embarrassing.
An underwear-sniffing perv. He’ll definitely hump your pillow.
Gets a sick thrill out of breaking in and startling you. Coming up behind you in the dark, sneaking into your bed. It’s probably his worst habit, and even he hates that he does it. If you get better at detecting him he’ll be so proud. Land a slap on him and he’ll be a horny mess.
Dog-whistles at you. Often from rooftops, and you have no idea where he is but you know he’s leering.
He will call you a lot of really stupid pet names. He likes the way you blush when he finds a newer, stupider one. Calls you angel when he’s really far gone.
Likes to scratch you with his stubble until your skin turns raw and sensitive. If it annoys you or hurts a little? Even better. Making you squirm is his new favorite thing. Especially when going down on you. Your inner thighs are always exfoliated.
His cock is average in every respect. This is not a bad thing. He knows how to please you with every totally normal inch of that cock. He has some kind of homing beacon installed on your sensitive spots.
Goes absolutely insane for blowjobs. Any time, any place.
Likes to bend you around in all kinds of positions with an assist from his feathers to hold up an ankle here, an arm there. Get used to floating mid-coitus. It just seems to happen.
Spanky.
His number one priority is making you feel adored and at home in his bed. Ohhhhh he likes to make you smile. But if you encourage him to get pushy and dominant with you, you will have a good, good time.
He’s switchy, and will lose his shit if you initiate or take control. Again, he’s always horny for you, because he can finally let go. Breathe in his direction and he’s hard.
Doesn’t moan much, but Babe, he’s a dirty talker. He’s not smooth or deliberate about it, it’s more like he can’t fucking believe you let him do whatever he wants to you. You like that huh? Like he’s in stages of shock. He’s singing your praises to high Heaven and muttering oh shit oh shit oh shittttttt and laugh-crying as he cums. He never talks about his feelings; he fucks about them.
After. Care. King. He loves pampering and clucking over you anyway, this is simply another excuse to do it. He knows exactly how much water you drink in a day. Can’t take care of himself for shit, but you? You’ll never have a need he won’t try to fill. What’s all that hero work for if not this? Yeah, soak it up. You deserve it.
#hawks#takami keigo#hawks headcanons#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#hawks x you#gender neutral#smut#bnha#mha#mha headcanons#bnha headcanons#mha fanfiction#bnha x reader#mha x reader#fred writes#no idea why I’m writing these#guess I’m just in a Mood
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Elliot - Manipulator?
Hear me out here, but like;
When Jules is interrogating Elliot with Rue, he manages to effortlessly steer away the conversation as to whether he has a crush on Rue to poke and prod at Rue & Jules’s sexual chemistry.
“Why did she avoid that question?”
In fact, throughout the entire conversation, he’s questioning Jules’s sexuality - weaseling out information as to how many guys she’s fucked, and making judgments based on it.
“Wait, how many guys have you fucked?”
“Well how many men do you have to fuck to no longer be interested in them?”
This continually causes conflict with Rue and Jules. They both respond to the questions defensively, with Jules attempting to brush past them and Rue attempting to interrogate Jules about them - and rather than back down, Elliot continues to prod at this conflict. Until, by the end of the interrogation, Elliot is no longer the one on the defensive. Jules is. He’s on the offensive, until he backs down;
“I do like Rue. And even though you’ve been gangbanged by the entire fuckin’ galaxy -- you’re great. And I want to be friends.”
Now, was he being malicious in all this? Not necessarily. After all, Jules was the one being insecure - Rue obviously does not have a crush on Elliot, Jules is simply very clingy. It must be said that, regardless though, Elliot had a remarkable control over the situation. What he does with that situation is what determines whether these “manipulative” qualities are a bad thing. Perhaps he actually was only “manipulating” the situation to save his own ass, and truly did just want things to die down. For them all to be friends.
---
Then, he has a conversation with Jules. Alone. And she asks him again if he has a crush on Rue, straight up. Strangely, he answers completely differently than before with, what we can presume to be, honesty.
“I do.”
This validates Jules’s original concerns, but now that they’re all “friends” - having played Truth or Dare together, hung out in the hallways together, etc., she’s no longer in any position to interrogate him. Which is an explanation as to why he is now comfortable revealing this fact.
He then goes on to admit that he believes Rue doesn’t want to fuck him. Says she seems “gay”, or “asexual”. How would Elliot get that idea? Is he just that big of an asshole that he assumes every girl who doesn’t want to fuck him must not be interested in sex at all?
Well, remember the scene where Jules tries to go down on Rue while they’re all sleeping over?
“We can’t do it here!”
Rue pulls away and rejects Jules. Of course, the two believe Elliot is sleeping. But if he wasn’t, and he heard that...well, he’d have a good reason to believe that Rue really might not be interested in sex. After all, Jules was perfectly comfortable having sex with her girlfriend - why wasn’t Rue?
But he doesn’t tell Jules that. He doesn’t say THAT’S why he knows. Instead, he asks her a question.
“Then how does that work? ‘Cause, you’re like a sexual person.”
Bringing in information he acquired via the last interrogation. And when Jules rebukes this, he says;
“I’m just saying. It’s easy to take that kind of stuff personally.”
He’s verbalizing a seed of doubt in Jules’s mind. Why WOULDN’T Rue want to have sex with Jules? He verbalizes that worry when he didn’t need to. Jules had brushed off the idea that it bothered her, but he doubled down anyways. And all while not revealing the fact that he’s been present for a sensitive scene in their relationship - that he heard Rue deny Jules for sex. Because if he says that, he really would come across like an asshole. So instead, when Jules accuses him of being an asshole, he plays a different tactic:
“I’m being sweet right now.”
“‘Cause you’re very fuckin’, fuckable.”
And then goes on a whole rant about why Jules is attractive.
Jules, as we know, is clingy - and when she loves people, she loves HARD. And this is because Jules loves positive affirmation. She loves the idea of feeling desirable. Something that Elliot is saying Rue CANNOT provide her. Something that he is now providing her with. Something that, despite the fact that Jules said she is done with men, he may very well see as a way to get closer to her. And he ends it by saying;
“But I’m sure Rue told you all that.”
Seems like he’s leading her on, right? And given he has an admitted crush on Rue...well, we can see what he might have to gain by putting a wedge in Rue and Jules’s relationship. Just like he has been doing in every scene since that interrogation.
Jules said it herself;
“Why can’t I shake the feeling that there’s like, something you’re not telling me?”
“Like, why don’t I trust you?”
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