#sexy evil man wearing all black

[sunnibits]

guys please why is everyone in this game so hot I’m experiencing bisexual heart failure

#bg3 #SEND HELP #I recently came to the realization that literally every single variation of My Type is represented in this game #you have hot buff woman who’s also a big sweetheart #beefy thick hairy man with a deep voice #sexy evil man wearing all black #pretty boy twink with a tragic backstory #ALL OF IT IS MY TYPE #I’m literally being attacked on all angles 😭

[ghostietea]

I get from a logical angle why people might be put off by her but I think it's a shame that Akito Sohma doesn't get more appreciation because she is truly one of the characters of all time. She's the evil female reincarnation of God. She's so androgynous one of the anime adaptations guessed her gender wrong. She dresses like a theater tech. She sits like a gremlin. One time someone said something that upset her and she was bedridden for months. She wore a full coverage pure black outfit to the beach in summer and then complained about the heat. She has flower symbolism. She's campy and dramatic. She was assigned male at birth for political reasons. She simultaneously looks like a twink and a dyke. She has no friends until she's 20. She passive aggressively flirts with the protagonist the first time they talk. When she's not fucking up people's lives she just lounges around at home being depressed. She's a tragic villain almost certainly doomed to be a bad person by her upbringing and part of the tragedy is that it's still her fault. She doesn't know murder is wrong. She's pretty much a cult leader but that's one of the few things that isn't her fault. All of her schemes backfire on her in a poetically ironic way. She likes the in universe Pokemon equivalent. She looks like the evil twin of one of the main characters and this is never explained because the author forgot why she did it. She's a decent transfem allegory and a bungled transmasc one. She has world's worst internalized misogyny but is willing to change her whole life the minute another woman wants to have a legitimate positive relationship with her. She's the human manifestation of a cycle of abuse who then goes on to break it. She's extremely sexy. She is simultaneously very dangerous and intimidating and a pathetic failgirl. She's a perfect foil and parallel to the protagonist. She marries a man who had revenge sex with her evil mom. The author said that she ships her and the protagonist in a no homo way. She can be easily interpreted as autistic. She has catastrophic abandonment issues. She's hiding that she's a girl but wears her kimono improperly open in a way that makes it so she's constantly at risk of accidentally flashing someone. She has daddy issues and mommy issues. She was even homeschooled.

#fruits basket #akito sohma #she's so so interesting and entertaining and I have so many big feelings about her I think she deserves her flowers #it's just that The Atrocities are an inextricable part of her and The Atrocities in question are domestic abuse so not many people like her #though I do maintain she'd be way more popular if she was actually a man

[winksasleeplesseye]

Late

A/N: I wrote this for my OC and Leon but decided to rework it to be reader fic (bc I’m nice like that but don’t be surprised if I end up posting that one as well at some point).

MINORS DNI!

Pairing: Post!RE4R!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

Summary: Leon’s home resting from Spain, Jill invites you out but Leon wants you to stay in but you’re not budging, luckily for Leon, he’s always up for a challenge.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: straight up smut, oral (f receiving), Leon being hot

————————————————————————

You sat at the vanity, putting on the finishing touches of your makeup and your outfit. Jill had invited you out on the town since she was visiting, a momentary return to normalcy you both seriously needed.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Leon sprawled out on your shared bed.

If he wasn’t wearing his comfiest pair of sweats and an obscure band tee, you probably would’ve thought he was posing for a spread in Playgirl. Either way, you’d always want to climb all over him like a tree.

His eyes flitted back and forth between pages of a mission report, a pair of reading glasses perched at the tip of his nose, clearly not helping with reading.

“You know, it’s not too late for you to get dressed to come with me.” You offer, but you already know exactly what he’ll say.

“Or you can stay in with me,” You looked at him from the reflection in the mirror, he was making the cutest pout face in your direction.

Raccoon City and now Spain had changed you both in different ways fundamentally. Leon had become more of a homebody, while you didn’t mind going out into the world, had everything occurred differently, you imagined he’d come with. Yet, you couldn’t fault him for it, the hells and horrors you both endured certainly weren’t normal.

“That won’t work on me, Kennedy, I know your ways,” You laughed.

Papers shuffling and the springs of the mattress dipping sound behind you. “Oh, really?”

One thing you occasionally forget is that Leon Scott Kennedy is never one to back down from a challenge. And right now? His challenge is clear.

Leon is quick to wrap his arms around your middle, bringing you up to a standing position crushed against his front. He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, placing hot, open mouthed kisses against it.

The helpless sound that escapes your lips is equal parts pleasure and annoyance. “You evil man.”

He lets out the sexiest chuckle as his lips travel over all the exposed skin you have on display. The butterfly top you’d gotten only recently is now already disheveled as Leon works a hand underneath the cup of the fabric, rolling a nipple between his fingers.

You turned your head, pulling Leon into a frenzied kiss before pulling away for mere seconds only to face him fully in the kiss.

Your phone, a slim black Nokia was going off in your back pocket but quite frankly you were more lost in your fingers exploring underneath Leon’s clothes as he did the same to you. Jill would just have to wait.

Leon’s hands gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you with an ease that shouldn’t have been so sexy but it was.

Challenge? Oh, who were you kidding? You barely put up a fight. Leon knew exactly what would convince you every time.

“You really thought you could go out, looking like that?” he asked huskily, wrapping your legs around his slim waist.

Feeling particularly wicked, you answer with a smirk, “Yes.”

You felt victorious but that was going to be short-lived, Leon practically threw you down on the mattress, no care for the papers that now laid all over the floor.

You tried to contain your excitement as Leon undid the buttons to your black jeans, just barely ripping them off of you. Your underwear wasn’t so lucky, the flimsy material now laid on the floor alongside Leon’s papers.

For a moment, you shudder at the feeling of being bare.

You didn’t even have to wonder what Leon would do next; he was already sinking down to his knees, pausing long enough only to pull you to the edge of the bed. He didn’t give you any time to prepare yourself. His broad shoulders shoved your legs apart and his mouth was on your in an instant.

“Oh, shit, Leon,” You breathed. Your head fell back against the mattress as his mouth explored your folds. Your fingers found their way to his hair where they tangled themselves in his blonde locks with abandon.

Leon’s tongue licked kittenish and broad stripes up your pussy, earning him a tug that had him letting loose a small groan against your core. He’d always liked his hair pulled, but he seemed to like it even more now.

You couldn’t think of anything but Leon, focusing all your attention on looking at the man between your legs to find that his blue eyes already bore into you, watching for every single reaction, certainly feeling some gratification that he’s always able to do all of this to you.

His tongue alternated between licking between your folds and disappearing deep inside you. Occasionally his nose would brush your clit but he seemed to be ignoring it on purpose, driving you nearly mad with need.

“Leon, baby, please,” You pathetically whimper, eyes heavily lidded gazing needily at the man between your legs.

He gave you one last long, sinful lick before gazing up at you through lust-blown eyes. Clearly, you didn’t have to wonder if he enjoyed pleasuring you like this.

“You’re gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, sweetheart. Now, what do you want?” he asked.

You bit your lip, you really didn’t want to voice your thoughts out loud, considering Leon knows your body so well, but you both knew he wasn’t going to budge until you said it. So, you caved. “I need your mouth on my clit. Ple-“

His tongue darted out and swirled around the engorged bud, instantly drawing a loud moan from your lips. you clapped a hand over your mouth, not wanting the entire building to hear you. “Like that?” he asked salaciously, looking up at you with now nearly black eyes, pupils overtaking the blue color. Before you could answer his mouth found your clit again, giving it a gentle suck. A strangled cry left your mouth and he relented to lavish the rest of you with deft licks.

“You really are an evil man,” You murmured fondly. You could practically feel him grin. To hell with Jill, this way was more important. You knew she’d probably be a little mad to be blown off for a few hours but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care; it felt too damn good.

In mere minutes, Leon had reduced you to a pile of jello on the mattress, you were pretty sure that your hand was the only thing keeping you from screaming your euphoria to the high heavens. “L-Leon, baby, I’m so fucking close-Oh my-ah!”

“That’s it. Come on my tongue,” he whispered filthily. Your breathing became unstable, vocal cords shaky as Leon’s name spilled feebly from your mouth; your toes curled, your legs shook as your thighs clamped down on his head as your orgasm sent your body off the edge of the earth.

Your fingers tugged sharply on his hair and his resulting moan felt like it resonated throughout your whole body. He worked his tongue over your clit until the sensation was obviously overwhelming then switched to spearing you with it, moaning as though you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

When you were spent he finally ceased, standing slowly and removing your shirt in one fluid motion. “You’d better call Jill and apologize now,” he wore a proud grin, hands pulling up his shirt.

God, you love this man.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy with reading glasses? #I think YES #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #this may have a part 2

[chryblossomjjk]

the weekend | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | fwb, sm*t, angst

⇢ WC: 13.8k

⇢ WARNINGS: alright boyz strap in bc it's a doozy lmao, protected s*x, multiple org*sms (m & f), or*l s*x (m receiving), face f*ck, f*ngering, rough s*x, face slapping, sp*nking, exh*bitionism, sir k*nk, t*tty f*ck, t*tty sucking (duh), body piercings (n*pples), age gap (reader is 23 and jk is like 30), infid*lity (reader is the other woman), ch*king, overst*mulation, sp*tting, man handling, finger s*cking, d*m jk, brief mentions of past add*ction, implied passing of a bby (mainly subtext w no details given), maybe unrequited love, maybe not (EVIL CACKLE), some dark thoughts discussed (nothing too graphic or detailed), fighting n yelling n crying yikes, all of these characters are v flawed (except for yul duh), cute bby moments!!, oc is v immature n naive n contradicts herself a lot, she maybe has a thing for older guys bc of that, some bl*od (just a scrape on the knee but ik bl*od can be triggering), this relationship is extremely toxic and not meant to be desired!!!, one homage to trixie mattel lmao

⇢ SUMMARY: every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

⇢ NOTES: so after months and months of planning this fic (i literally posted the teaser in JANUARY UM??), it's finally here. i think this is my fav thing i've written thus far and i worked v hard on this! would love to know ur thoughts, feedback is always appreciated!! ty @/taegularities for betaing!! (for whatever reason, this fic refuses to show up in tags n it sucks n nothing i do fixes it so i shall leave it be lol)

You can't tell what’s louder—the crunch of dewy, end-of-summer grass pricking the soft skin of your thighs like angry thorns, or the cracking of bones as your body thumps to the ground from your bedroom window. 

“Ah-” the whine is quickly stifled by a sharp hiss as you remember your dad’s sleeping figure is just behind the wall next to you. “Ouch,” you whimper, praying that the crash hasn’t reached his watchful ears. Carefully, you climb to your feet, brushing the dirt off your bare legs. You spot a fresh crimson scrape on your knee.

Fucking great. 

Finally, after days of longing and waiting, the weekend has arrived. Today, in particular, is a fantastic day. You were trying to look sexy, and blood isn't exactly the sexiest accessory. Bringing your wrist up to your nose, you inhale the candy-scented liquid you had doused yourself in before leaving. 

Perfume still in check, thank fuck.

Goosebumps form on your skin as you take long, dutiful strides, cool night mist gliding through the thin material of your long silk shirt. You’ve committed this path to memory—out the window, usually in a more graceful manner, through the neighbor’s yard, and then straight down the sidewalk to the black Mercedes Benz waiting for you at the end of the road. 

If you hadn’t done this a million and one times already, you might’ve missed the vehicle, so dark that it blends into the night seamlessly. You can’t help but wonder if that’s his goal entirely. 

Still, the excitement of it all makes you walk a little faster. 

“Hey, Jungkook,” you smile as you slide into his black leather passenger seat, leaning over the center console to give his cheek a gentle peck. Maybe you’ve overstepped a boundary and muddied the lines in the sand of your… relationship, but you can’t help yourself. Seeing Jungkook was always a treat, one you looked forward to every Friday night for the past five months.

“Hi,” he says impassively, eyes darting over your figure. A loose strand of hair dangles in front of his eyes, teasing you. “You’re wearing makeup?”

“Oh, um…” You’re at a loss for words; surprised he noticed such a slight change in your appearance. Although his perceptiveness was something you noted shortly after you began working for him, you can’t help but feel flustered. “Yeah, I… wanted to look nice tonight. Totally busted my ass climbing out the window,” you laugh.

“Did you get hurt?” His straight brows furrow slightly, silver piercing reflecting the moonlight. 

“Just a scratch.” You lift your leg to show him the red mark on your knee. “Didn’t break anything, though, so that’s a plus.”

Wordlessly, Jungkook reaches over, popping open the glove compartment before you and pulling out the first aid kit he keeps there for emergencies. The scent of clean linen wafts over you from his daily cologne. His scent. Only his. You try your best to subdue the possessive smirk forming. “You should be more careful.”

“I’m okay.”

“Be more careful,” he commands, peering up at you with an icy gaze. “Got it?”

Whether it’s the seven-year age gap between the two of you or the tone of his voice, you know better than to argue. “Yes,” you wince as he rubs Neosporin onto the open wound. “Besides, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if my dad wasn’t so… overprotective.”

“Well,” he continues, sticking a pink Baby Shark bandaid to your skin before putting the box back, “as a father, I understand.”

“Yul is two, though,” you laugh, “I’m in my twenties.”

“Being in your early twenties hardly makes you an adult,” he mutters. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The need to protect your children always stays the same.”

“Poor Bunny,” you pout jokingly as you click your seatbelt on. “She’s going to be just like me when she’s older. Sneaking out of a window to see a boy because her daddy is a big grizzly bear.”

The comment has his nose twitching in irritation. “I’m done with this conversation, __.”

You freeze. Have you struck a nerve?

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you peep. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop.” His voice is flat, but your heart thumps. “It’s fine.”

All the excitement you feel suddenly morphs into an uncomfortable ache as you slump into your seat. It’s different than it was last weekend, positioned much closer to the dashboard than you would ever put it. There’s a claustrophobic sting in your chest as you realize someone else has been in this very spot. 

You know they have, and you know who. 

The deafening sound of the bulky silver band on his finger, tapping against the steering wheel as he begins driving to the hotel you frequent, is a sick reminder.

You swear there’s even a musky floral scent lingering in the air. Deeper and more mature than yours. It could be paranoia, or guilt, making you imagine things. Still, you hope your perfume finds its way into every fiber of his leather seats. 

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks, interrupting any rational thought or doubt, luring you back into the vicious cycle. 

“A bit stressful,” you sigh. “I applied for school today.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, pretty sure I messed up on the financial aid paperwork, though. It was super confusing; I didn’t understand any of it.”

“You should’ve brought it over. I could’ve helped you.” 

Jungkook does have a master’s degree in finance. He could’ve been your Rosetta Stone, helping you decipher convoluted questions about taxes and deductions. However, you weren’t sure how he would’ve reacted to you pulling out your laptop post-sex, asking for assistance on something completely unrelated to your normal routine. “That’s not the type of thing we usually do when we’re together,” you shrug, “you know?”

Your response has him shifting in his spot, pierced bottom lip curling inwards like the words made him queasy. He was the one who encouraged you to go back to school in the first place. “I wouldn’t have minded,” Jungkook mumbles before quickly redirecting the dialogue, something he does whenever he’s frustrated or uncomfortable. “So, what’s the special occasion?” 

“Huh?” 

“What’s got you all dolled up?”

Oh, right. That special occasion. The one you’ve been anticipating since you were made aware of its existence. 

“Happy three years sober!” You announce with a cheesy smile, throwing your arms up eagerly. 

“Ah,” he huffs in recognition. His eyes are fixed on the road, but there’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. Success. It takes everything in you not to physically rejoice. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“What do you mean?” You ask with a pout. “How could I forget?”

“I don’t know.” Just like that, the flicker of happiness wisps away like a flame in the wind as his expression turns emotionless and stoic again. “It’s not really a big deal.”

You frown. Must he always be so… cold? 

‘It’s okay to smile; you deserve it,’ is what you want to tell him. It's not your place, though. You opt for: “It’s a huge deal, Jungkook,” instead. Reaching over, you gently tuck the stray strand of hair behind his decorated ear. 

A somber aura hangs around him like a dark, dreary rain cloud, and in moments like this, when it’s so visible, you just… need to touch him.

It’s stupid to think that you’re the special one; that you’ll be the girl to turn the rain into a rainbow and save him from himself, but you can’t refrain from trying. 

“Did you celebrate?”

He shakes his head. “Went to work.” 

You can tell from his outfit—a sleek black blazer resting neatly on top of an even darker button-up and tie. His long hair is slicked back, but gravity, and his ten-hour long shift took their toll, making the strands hang slack, short undercut peaking through. He looks so incredibly sexy. Maybe, you can comfort him in the only way you know how…

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo: 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you splurged on just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so is being with a man like Jungkook. When you finally get to have him the way you want, you’re incapable of rationality. 

One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied…

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips.  “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek in your hand and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear. 

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in. His strong hand grips your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared, and his jaw is clenched painfully tight. He’s pissed. 

You know you should apologize, or be a little shaken up, but the blinking of the turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted. 

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple. 

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth in. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically—his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug—but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel the entire life he’s built for himself. 

Jungkook is an intelligent man, though. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a façade, and everything’s already been undone. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings. 

The contact image would typically make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen makes you sick to your stomach. 

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling you to shut up,  before answering. 

“Yes, Seulgi?”

“Your daughter would like to speak to you.” 

Her voice makes you want to curl into yourself. Whenever you talk to Seulgi regarding Yul, you’re able to compartmentalize and detach that part of yourself from this one. The one that’s sleeping with her husband. Hearing her in this compromised setting makes you feel absolutely repulsive. 

After some rustling and tiny sniffles, Yul answers. “Da-” She only manages a syllable before breaking into a cry-induced coughing fit. You cringe, poor Bunny. “Daddy!”

“What’s wrong with my baby?”

You don’t mean to giggle, especially when the little girl you’ve grown to love so much is clearly distressed, but the intimidating, grumpy, tattooed businessman beside you, talking in full-on pout, tickles your brain just right.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone!” Yul screeches in the most anguished, high-pitched tone.

“Bunny…” With the way his hands scrub down his face, you can tell the tears on the other end are physically affecting him. “Take a deep breath, please.”

There’s a shaky inhale, and a sad whine of an exhale as she tries to steady her respirations.

“Thank you, good job,” he affirms. “Yul, daddy is…” Dark pupils flicker over to you, his face scowled to match. He eyes you like you’re an annoying stain on his leather seat. A dirty little secret that’s keeping him from his daughter. The gesture sends a dagger through your chest. Usually, Jungkook tells his wife he’s working overtime, but he can’t bring himself to lie to his only daughter. “Busy.”

“B-B-But.” The wails have simmered down to a blubber. “Scared.”

“You have mommy, though, don’t you?” He counters exasperatedly, cogs turning at maximum speed to conjure up a solution. “And Ruru?”

Yul is a persistent girl. You’ve seen the two-and-a-half-year-old deadpan Jungkook with a ‘you can have them, then,’ when he tried to convince her that vegetables were delicious and totally not an abomination to tastebuds. “Jeon Ruru is scared, too.”

After a few months of dedication and trust building, Yul finally initiated you into her inner circle of squishmallows, all of which shared the surname, Jeon, followed by whatever random title her baby brain bestowed them. Jeon Ruru, a glass of strawberry milk, was her favorite. You coo in remembrance. 

“What about Ado?” Jungkook suggests, exhausting all his options.

“Ado?” She peeps curiously, and you can almost see her doe eyes scanning the room for her runner-up, an avocado squishmallow you gifted her. “Ado’s sleepin’.”

“Can you go get him?”

There’s a long pause of contemplation before the pitter-patter of tiny feet on wood fills the speakers. “Jeon Ado!” She calls out, voice becoming distant as she runs to her bedroom, “daddy wantsa’ talk to you!” You make out a quiet ‘I’ll tuck you in’ when Seulgi helps her to bed. “Okay,” Yul huffs, breathless from her scurry down the long corridor, “he’s here.”

“Jeon Ado.” You rarely see this side of him, and it takes all of your strength to suppress the smile that’s creeping up. “Can you keep Yul safe while I’m away?” He even leans forward a bit, turning his ear towards the speaker as if he’s actually waiting for the stuffed avocado to answer, subconsciously playing along with his daughter despite being miles apart. The scene puts your overwhelmingly sweet perfume to shame. “Uh, Yul, he said yes. So can you sleep in your big girl bed tonight?”

Reluctantly, Yul grumbles in agreement.

“Alright baby, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

Again, she answers with a little grunt and a yawn.

“I love you.”

“Love youuu!” She extends the vowel for emphasis.

“I love you more.”

There’s a beat of silence before the sleepy girl simply responds ‘yep,’ not even attempting to argue. He glances at you, this time with a wholesome smile, eyes warm with burning stars. It’s moments like this that keep you hooked, you think. Like always, the feeling is short-lived. When Seulgi mumbles a sweet goodnight to her daughter, their daughter, you’re reminded that you shouldn’t even be observing this domestic interaction. 

“You know,” the man begins, turning his attention to his wife, “if you had given her a warm bottle, she would’ve gone down without a hitch.” 

“Jungkook, she’s too old for a bottle.” And just like that, the fire between them ignites. You’ve never actually witnessed the pair fighting, only felt the uncomfortable heat between them in passing. “And she’s too old to be co-sleeping. She never had an issue sleeping alone beforehand.”

“Alright,” he asserts, “if Yul’s okay, then we’re done here.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” Despite his warning, she continues. “Getting her used to sleeping with you and then not being here?”

There were many things about having a daughter that Jungkook wasn’t prepared for.

It’s not that he didn’t do his research, and Yul certainly wasn’t an accident. He had wanted her more than anything. Especially after the… 

Incident.

A baby-sized hole was left in Jungkook’s chest. Every day, it grew bigger and bigger until, eventually, that bitter emptiness would’ve swallowed him alive. 

Jungkook needed Yul. 

Still, there were certain things that parenting books and videos hadn’t warned him about, like the worry in his stomach whenever his daughter refuses her lunch, or the ache in his heart when he drops her off at daycare and she watches him leave through the window with a sad wave and tears rolling down her cheeks as if he’s just abandoned her forever. As if he or his wife aren’t going to pick her up in a mere four hours like they do every Tuesday and Thursday. His readings haven’t prepared him for the even stronger ache that consumes his entire body whenever he leaves for work too early and comes home too late, with barely any time to spend with his favorite person in the world.  

Before Yul was even born, Jungkook and Seulgi had decided that co-sleeping was out of the question. Their room was for them, and he stood firm on that principle for a while. However, as time passed, their room became Seulgi’s, and the empty bedroom downstairs became his. 

Jungkook couldn’t stand that room. 

One night, after a particularly grueling shift, Jungkook trudges up the stairs for a late shower. Without finance talk or Yul’s babbles, he’s left to his own thoughts. Usually, under the scalding water, he wondered how his life turned out this way, or more so, why? This time, Jungkook wonders if there is even a reason to keep going at all.

He catches his reflection while brushing his teeth. His eyes are dark, cold, distant. Those same eyes belong to his daughter, but all he sees when looking into hers is love, innocence, and everything good in life. 

Maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for him. 

Taking a detour to Yul’s room, Jungkook does his best to quietly tip-toe around squishmallows and discarded markers. Underneath the pink blanket is a little ball of fluffy black hair. She’s got her thumb in her mouth—a bad habit he and Seulgi had been trying to nip in the bud—with her chubby cheeks squished against her pillow. There were few things he hated more than waking her up, especially when she was sleeping so peacefully, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t stop himself. 

Tiny, confused cries fill the room as Jungkook scoops her up. 

“Shh,” he hushes, smoothing his palm over her onesie-clad back. “It’s just me.”

“Da- ddy?” Immediately, she relaxes at the familiar sound of his voice, words slurred as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes with a little fist before peering up at him with big marble eyes. 

“How was daycare, Bunny?” 

“Scared,” she whimpers, slumping into his chest for comfort. “Scaredy cat.”

“Scaredy cat?” Jungkook repeats, trying to make sense of the phrase. “Who’s a scaredy cat?”

“Jeon Yul.” 

Typically, Jungkook finds it adorable when Yul refers to herself in the third person. The way she says it this time makes him frown. “Jeon Yul is not a scaredy cat. Jeon Yul is a baby, that’s all.” Realizing that she’d probably heard the unfavorable title at daycare, his chest tightens. With a heavy sigh, he rests his chin on top of her round head, swaying back and forth. Her hair smells like green apples from her baby soap. “Why were you scared, sweetheart?”

“No color…” 

On his lunch break, Seulgi informed him that she was picking Yul up early. In an attempt to encourage her to engage with other children, the teacher took away Yul’s crayons, sending her into a full-blown tantrum. Jungkook knew his daughter well, a spitting image of him in every capacity. The crayons weren’t the problem; it was that crippling shyness that made her afraid of socializing with nearly anyone other than you and her parents.

Her back ripples with tiny hiccups as she recounts the events. Jungkook decides it’s best to change the subject, not wanting to upset his two-year-old anymore—especially this late at night. 

“Guess what?”

Yul grunts an inquisitive noise.

“Daddy got you Baby Shark coloring books.”

Her wispy bedhead bounces as she glances side to side, inspecting her room for any sign of new Pinkfong merchandise. Jungkook was genuinely amazed at her ability to keep track of it all, considering how much he and his wife loved to spoil her rotten. However, the word ‘rotten’ doesn’t even come close to describing his baby. “Where?”

“In my car,” he laughs, slicking her choppy bangs out of her eyes. “We’ll color tomorrow., okay?”

“I like Baby Shark,” Yul says, completely ignoring his question. The teeniest, tiniest, most precious yawn slips out, two little front teeth on full display before her lips smack together sleepily. Truly living up to her nickname.

“I know you do.” He’s still rocking her gently, buying some time before she falls back into sleep’s arms and out of his. “I missed you so much today.” 

“Why?”

As of late, ‘why’ seems to be Yul’s favorite word. 

Why is the sky blue?

Why do vegetables taste yucky?

Why is daddy’s nose so big?

He’d be lying if he said that last, brutally honest question hadn’t caught him off guard when she first uttered it on his hip at the grocery store. 

“Because I love you.” It’s the most effortless sentence he’s ever spoken. The most natural feeling he’s ever felt.

“Why?” 

“Because,” his eye roll is disconnected from his growing smile, “you’re so cute!” If they weren’t enclosed by the four pink walls of Yul’s bedroom, Jungkook would be embarrassed at the squeakiness of his usual monotone voice. Leaning down, Jungkook blows a raspberry against her doughy cheek, a tried and true method of making her laugh. “Do you want to sleep in my room?”

It’s against his better judgment and the ground rules he had agreed to, but he just… really needs to spend time with her tonight. The small nod against his chest seals the deal. Before he gets to the door, Yul stops him with an exaggerated gasp.

“Daddy, Ruru!”

“Ruru?” 

She grunts, frustrated at her father’s confusion, frantically pointing at her partner in crime, the strawberry milk squishmallow lying neatly underneath her comforter. Just how she left it.

“Yul,” Jungkook starts, taking a few steps backward and bending at the waist, allowing her to take the oversized stuffie into her arms. “Isn’t this Mimi?” As far as Jungkook knows, the pink milk carton with a face had always been Mimi; a name Yul had dubbed it since he brought it home a couple months back.

“Ruru,” she states affirmatively. 

And ever since then, Yul’s been a co-sleeper. 

Jungkook prided himself on knowing his daughter like the back of his tattooed hand. Whether it’s a sixth sense, some innate father’s instinct that the parenting videos mentioned, or his own attention to detail, he could read her like a book. However, sharing a bed with the tiny human taught him something he had been blissfully unaware of:

Yul sleeps wild. 

More often than not, Jungkook was awoken by a tiny foot kicking his back, or by his own reflexes as he was somehow pushed to the very corner of the bed by his twenty-pound baby. There were even a few times when a harsh tug on his hair acted as an alarm clock. When he turned around to confront the culprit, however, she was fast asleep, arm slung over one of the many squishmallows that had worked their way into his room. 

Having her with him was worth all bald spots and bruises, though. It’s bad, he knows it, and night by night, Yul becomes more attached. Getting her acclimated to daycare had been hell, to say the least. He knows co-sleeping has possibly made her more reluctant to socialize than she already was. 

Still, Jungkook can’t help but wonder who’s more dependent on the other. When he thinks about it, undoubtedly, the answer is him. Because as long as he wakes up to a little foot in his back, a fist in his hair, and the smell of green apple baby soap, he has a reason to keep going. 

“Don’t you think she deserves better?”

Her sharp words swipe through the air like a blade. Even you feel the cut, cautiously eyeing Jungkook. You can’t read his expression, but something about it makes you rub a comforting hand over his shoulder. He doesn’t react to your touch at all.

There’s a sullen pause before he finally answers. “I think Yul deserves everything.”

“Right… Goodnight, Jungkook.” She hangs up before he has the chance to respond. Seulgi always struck you as a level-headed person, albeit a bit aloof, but never unfair or cruel. You assume she’s just being spiteful, because anyone who knows Jungkook would never question his dedication to his daughter. That ugly, bitter, jealous side of you thinks maybe she just doesn’t know him the way you do. 

“Are you okay?” You whisper as if approaching a wounded animal, ready to attack. 

“On Fridays,” he starts, eyes shamefully dropping to his fidgeting hands. “Yul spends the day with my parents.”

His incessant need to defend his parenting makes your heart ache. “Hey, I-”

“She’s usually asleep by the time I leave work.” 

“Kook,” you interrupt his rambling. “You don’t have to explain; I understand... I think you’re an amazing father.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook looks you directly in the eyes. His are glassy and gentle now, but the fingers that hook into your lace bra, right between the cups, are rough and abrasive. “C’mere,” he gruffs, pulling you over the center console until you’re uncomfortably sandwiched between his solid chest and the steering wheel. There’s no effort to make room for you; he doesn’t slide his seat back. He doesn’t compromise any of his space for you. You accept it, steadying yourself on his shoulders with a grunt. 

Sometimes, you question what your presence in his life truly is. Are you an escape or a punching bag? Are you merely something he can sink his nails and teeth into when angry? Something he can break without consequence? The sound of thread ripping and buttons popping fills the car as he slides the silk off your shoulders, letting the delicate material fall to the floor without a care in the world.

“You wore this for me?” A fingertip lightly traces the petite swell of your breasts, barely bulging over the frilly black cups of your push-up. The sensation sets your skin ablaze.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “I wanted today to be special.”

“You care about me?” Moonlight cuts through the dewy window, beaming against the side of his face, highlighting the taut pull in his features. His question seems genuine, but the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Simply being here with him makes the entire foundation of your soul, all of your morals and beliefs, crumble to pieces. Against your better judgment, you’re still here. 

Yearning. Trying. Fighting.

You swipe a thumb over his thick brows, trying to ease the angry crinkle that’s become a permanent fixture on his beautiful face. You comb through his hair. It’s a little knotted, a little crunchy from old gel. 

The answer should be obvious, but you don’t think Jungkook could internalize love if it was right in front of him.

“I care about you,” you say truthfully, “a lot.”

The stars in his eyes gleam for a moment, glowing bright and vibrant, before they’re engulfed by the suffocating blackness of his pupils. 

“You poor thing,” Jungkook tuts, trailing his fingers up your neck before grasping your jaw with a single hand. The baby fat of your cheeks mushes together from the force. “You're gonna let me do whatever I want to you, aren't you?”

The tone of his voice has your heart fluttering and your stomach churning with thick hot desire. Gripping his wrist with both hands, you moan out a ‘yes,’ unconsciously grinding down onto his slack-covered bulge. He’s barely touched you yet and your cunt is leaking, making a mess of your itty bitty thong and his work suit. 

“Right, of course.” With the same hand holding you, Jungkook taps his index finger against your glossy pout, “open.” Just barely parting your lips, you let the thick digit slide between them. Immediately, he presses down against your tongue, trying to coax a gag out of you. “What if I want to fuck this pretty little mouth until you cry? How does that sound? Would you like that?”

Inhaling deeply, you nod. That sounds absolutely perfect.

“I don’t know if you can handle it, though,” he lulls, retracting his finger before plunging it back in, all the up to his inked knuckle. You squint in defiance. He’s teasing, but you can’t fight the tinge of anger in your chest. If there’s one thing you can do, it’s suck a mean dick. Looking him directly in the eyes, you swirl your tongue against his palm with ease, not choking once. You feel his cock twitch against the supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

Unamused by your antics, Jungkook yanks his hand back angrily, making a string of saliva drip down your chin. Maybe a full face of makeup wasn’t the best idea. “Get in the backseat,” he orders huskily, wiping the damp skin on his blazer. Biting back a smirk, you climb off his lap and wriggle over the center console. You situate yourself on the cool leather, laying down and assuming face-fuck position. 

The yellow glow of headlights swims across the ceiling as a passing car drifts down the misty highway. This is the first time in five months that you and Jungkook are out in the open, blissfully oblivious to the possibility of getting caught. It’s childish, but you hope someone sees. For a moment in time—in a wandering eye’s glimpse of reality—you’re his and he's yours.

“Couldn’t wait until we got to the hotel, huh?” Jungkook huffs when he opens the door. Giddily, you lean your head back over the edge of the seat, coming face to face with the tent in his pants. His hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt, desperate to bury himself inside of you. His favorite escape. “Well, since you want to act like a fucking whore-” his pants fall to his knees with a clang when he unbuttons them, “-I’ll treat you like one.”

“Please,” you whimper, noting the wet spot on his gray Calvin Kleins. Reaching up, you lightly drag your nails across it, teasingly pinching the head of his cock before he tugs his boxers down. A big greedy smile spreads across your face as his semi springs out. 

The sight makes your lips part. It’s so pretty. Something about how the moonlight catches the glowy pink tip, peeking out from under his foreskin. The light accentuates every ridge and vein on his girthy shaft. So yummy it has you drooling-

Jungkook’s right. You’re a complete and utter whore.

“Is this what you wanted?” He peers down at you over his prominent nose, one hand clutching the roof of his Mercedes. The other wraps around his thick shaft, giving it a few languid pumps, getting himself fully erect for you. Teasingly, he taps the head against your plump lips. Unable to resist, you press a sweet peck and a kitten lick to his silky frenulum. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles, raising his delicious cock just beyond your reach. “You know better than that. Ask for permission.”

“Wanna suck it,” you pout, squirming impatiently. “Please?”

Suddenly, his heavy cock slaps your cheek with a wet thud.

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl.” The praise is contradicted by another light smack to your face, this time with an open palm. Taking the hint, you open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out in anticipation. Jungkook watches you intently with furrowed brows and a slack jaw as he feeds you the first few inches. As soon as the salty flavor of his arousal hits your tastebuds, you moan obnoxiously, back arching off the leather beneath you. 

He starts slowly, using your breathing to guide his movements—pausing on the exhales and giving you a bit more on the inhales. He does this until the entirety of his length is shoved down your warm, wet mouth. 

The hem of his black dress shirt flows over you, obstructing his view. He places it between his teeth with an annoyed groan, wanting to watch the swell in your neck as you swallow him like a snake. “You take it so well,” he grunts over the material, “the best I’ve ever had.”

Tears clinging to your lashes finally lose grip, trickling down your skin until they get lost in the thick, dark swoops of your dangling hair. For once, you mean something more to him than she does. It’s insignificant and shameful, but at least it's something.

“Are you okay, __?” Jungkook asks, sensing the shift as your soul splays before him like your half-naked body. Stepping back, he gives you some reprieve.

With red eyes and drool bubbling at the corners of your lips, you moan out an implied ‘yes.’ His confession has you on cloud nine.

“Do you remember the sign?”

Again, you hum. 

“Can you show me?”

Lazily, you tap his outer thigh three times, a hard ‘stop’ symbol you had agreed upon months ago while hanging off the edge of a hotel bed, preparing for Jungkook to fuck your mouth for the very first time. 

“Good girl,” he says before rutting his entire length into you again. He’s so deep that the soft skin of his scrotum nudges against the tip of your nose, and the dense patch of trimmed hair on his pubic bone tickles your chin. Reaching down, Jungkook grips your neck, reveling in the feeling of it stretching against his palm as he moves in and out steadily. 

Eventually, he hunches over, hands wandering down and holding your temples for better leverage. Despite the harsh digs of his hips, his delicate fingers brush away a few strands of hair stuck to your damp cheeks. The sweet gesture makes you whimper around him in pure ecstasy, moving your head to meet his thrusts for extra stimulation, circling your flat tongue around the base. 

The whistles of the midnight breeze and the murmur of passing cars fade, and all you hear is Jungkook. The melodic, venomous praises pouring out of him poison your mind with optimism. He takes one last plunge, so powerful it sends you sliding back against the seat. To steady yourself, you grip his legs, attempting to ease your triggered gag reflex. He holds you there, cock stuffed to the brim as he slams a hand against the black steel of his car, shirt falling from his teeth as he moans ardently. You gasp when he finally pulls out, leaking tip still connected to you by a bridge of spit and precum.

“Why-” Cough. “Why did you stop?” 

Your question is met with only the sound of rustling fabric and the chime of his hanging belt buckle as he removes his suit jacket and throws it into the passenger seat. Grabbing you by the band of your lingerie, Jungkook hauls your frame closer.

He snaps your taut bra strap against your shoulder with a single finger. “Take this off.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter, still trying to catch your breath as you sit up at the waist and unclip your bra. A shiver runs down your spine as the cool night air licks your exposed chest. This time when you lie down, you’re positioned under his spread legs. He stands over you with such authority and dominance. The underside view of his hard cock looks absolutely menacing. 

“These,” Jungkook’s large palms grab at your tits, jiggling them, “I wanna fuck ‘em.”

“There isn’t anything for you to fuck,” you giggle. 

After years of insecurity, and crying over vengeful comments from dumb boys you had broken things off with, you finally came to terms with your appearance. Your tits are small, and that’s okay. Plus, the cute little nipple piercings you had gotten a while back were definitely a confidence booster. There wasn’t an ounce of self-hatred in your comment.

Jungkook doesn’t take it that way, though.

“Shut up.” With a huff, he steps back and hunches, reaching down to deliver a harsh swat to your cheek. It was a little rougher than usual, and you wince upon impact. Instantly, he soothes the skin with a gentle pet. “Your tits are… perfect.”

Perfect? Your cheeks and aching pussy heat up at the compliment.

Squeezing your chest, Jungkook brushes his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He pays extra attention to the silver barbells, decorated with little sparkly peaches at the ends. “These are new,” he notes, tugging on the jewelry. You let out a breathy moan, legs clenching together, inner thighs embarrassingly wet. “Sheesh,” he laughs, “someone’s sensitive.”

“Yeah… keep going.”

“I like them. They’re cute on you.”

Throughout your acquaintances, Jungkook was rarely this vocal. Maybe some praise sprinkled in here and there, but seldom anything substantial. Tonight, however, he’s been dishing out sweet talk like candy. You can’t pinpoint precisely what, but something’s changed.

Whatever it is, it fills you with awful, wishful hope.

Jungkook shuffles closer, teasing the teat of your pierced bud with his sticky tip. The dreamy sensation has your eyes rolling back into your skull. A glob of spit drops between the valley of your breasts before he spreads the wetness over your skin with his shaft. He has to use a death grip to force your tits into a soft plushness, perfect for him to slot himself into. Again, you feel that fucking ring embedding itself into your skin like a nasty tick. 

Cautiously, he guides his pulsing cock between your constrained breasts. A beautiful symphony of groans lulls out as he throws his head back in pleasure, long locks dancing along his clammy neck. 

“You like that?” You hum, taunting him. “Tell me how it feels.”

It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, eyes trained on your tits pillowing around him, focusing on the dewy sheen of your nipples and chest as his oozing cock spills onto your skin. “It feels-” his hips stutter, “-so fucking good.”

The way his teeth snarl around the hushed curse makes you smile, eyes closing as you relish in his pleasure. Maybe you’re too horny, or perhaps the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is making you crazy, but you wish you could live in this moment forever. Wallowing in the darkness, frozen in time with him. Yeah, you think, that would be wonderful.

“You can touch yourself,” he comments, spotting your clenched legs, desperate for some pressure. 

“S’okay,” you mumble, reaching around to caress his balls. His thighs tremble a bit against your arms. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Can you-” he grunts, stomach clenching as he begins to feel that familiar pooling in the base of his thick shaft. “Hold them for me. I’ll take care of you after, just- let me cum.”

Obliging, you replace his hands with your own, squishing your tits together for him. The visual of you lying under him, complacent and willing, sends him spiraling. A guttural roar echoes throughout the empty road as he speeds up. “Tighter,” he orders; you listen. The saliva and precum are beginning to rub off, making the friction of his chaotic thrusts sting your skin. He notices, letting another string of spit fall from his mouth onto your flesh. “Be good and take it. I’m almost there.”

By now, Jungkook should know you’d endure any pain to be with him. 

The darkest parts of your brain tell you he’s well aware of that fact. 

After a few more humps and lulled words of encouragement, he’s bursting at the seams. Just before he blows, Jungkook steps back, tight fist jerking himself frantically as he spills his seed onto your chest. Your eyes dart from his angry cock to his fucked out expressions. The moonlight shines behind him like a glowing aura as he finishes with a scrunched nose and his tongue between his teeth. He looks angelic. You moan under him, flinching when a stray spurt lands on your chin. 

Fucked out and dazed, he laughs softly, running a hand through his hair as his chest heaves. Collecting the liquid with his finger, he brings it to your giggling lips. The taste makes you hum as you lazily begin rubbing his cum all over your tits. 

“Really?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “You’re already starting?”

“Starting what?” You pout, batting your lashes at him and circling your nipple lightly with the tip of your nail, trying your best to look oblivious and innocent. Well, as innocent as you possibly can while literally covered in sperm. 

“Don’t play dumb. You know what you’re doing.”

See, in many ways, Jungkook is different from any other guy you’ve been with prior. For one, you didn’t meet via horny messages on Tinder at 1 a.m. For two, he’s older, meaning he’s much more intelligent and much more experienced. After years and years of honing in on his craft, he just knows how to fuck. Jungkook is one of the rare few penis-havers in the world who can orgasm back to back; no refractory period necessary. Truly a hidden gem. 

To put it simply, the man is a fucking faucet—one that you can turn off and on whenever you want. 

As if on cue, Jungkook twirls his inked finger, indicating for you to turn around. The other hand squeezes his cock just below the crown to cut off circulation, keeping himself erect. With that, your white converses are planted flat onto the sparse grass as you bend over the back seat, leaning your weight on your elbows. 

It's like whiplash when Jungkook's aggressive persona drops, and he's running his hands all over your body. Up your thighs, over your back, down your arms. He blooms petal-soft kisses on your bare shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Can I go in like this? Or do you need some foreplay?”

“This is fine,” you murmur, jarred by his sudden tenderness. “Perfect, actually.” 

With a hushed ‘alright,’ Jungkook reaches over you to rummage through the pocket of his discarded blazer. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as he pulls out a square foil packet. Condoms were an unwavering constant in your weekend escapades. Jungkook always wears condoms. Normally, that would be a great thing; however, in this situation, it’s like a stab to the heart…

Because if he’s adamant about using protection with you, then that means he’s still sleeping with her, doesn’t it? And it’s not like you can even ask or scold him about it. She’s his wife, after all. You’re the outsider. 

Jungkook hooks his thumb into your panties and pulls them aside. Your glistening folds are on full display, waiting to get pounded mercilessly right on the side of the road. He shoves three digits into your mouth, letting your drool on them a bit before pressing them to your wet cunt. Opening your folds with his index and ring fingers, he lightly dips the middle inside you. He collects some arousal and spreads it to your clit in feathery flicking motions. You cry out, feeling the shocks of a blossoming orgasm. 

“Already dripping, I see.” You can practically hear his cocky, satisfied grin as he stands straight and rolls the condom down his length. “Always so sensitive.”

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, “I always get like this with you.”

“I know you do.” Pulling a cheek to the side, Jungkook cards his sheathed tip through your entrance, making sure to nudge under your clitoral hood with every swipe. Lewd wet sounds ring in your ears as he tortures your hole relentlessly. 

“Kook,” you huff, reaching back to dig your manicured, almond-shaped nails into his skin. “Just put it in!”

Suddenly, Jungkook slams your torso onto the leather. In one swift motion, he’s catching your wrists, pinning them both to your lower back with a single hand. 

“I’ll give you what you want just-” releasing the back of your neck, he spanks you so hard you recoil, “be patient.”

Despite his words, you wait no longer than a minute before he’s guiding his dreamy member right where you want it. Jungkook always gives in quickly. How could he not when you’re ass up, face down, and practically begging? As he sinks into you, and you feel that familiar burn from the initial stretch, your eyes roll back, mouth opening around a silent scream. 

Usually, Jungkook likes to overwhelm you with his entire length all at once. There’s some hesitation this time as he slides in only halfway before stopping. Too much hesitation for your liking. You’re confident he’s testing you. Your assumption is verified when he speaks in that annoying, condescending voice.

“If you want it so bad, come get it.”

“You’re so,” breaking free from his grasp, you press your palms into the seat and lift yourself up with a grumble, “infuriating.”

He hums halfheartedly, head dropping to watch you work yourself onto him. Only a single stroke in, and he can already see you coating him in a shiny, milky dew. “So fucking wet…”

“Can’t help it,” you peep, taking him to the hilt and circling your hips, trying to savor the feeling. You’re no stranger to his cock; how good it makes you feel. You spend every Friday night bathing in that pleasure, forgoing parties and hangouts with your best friends for a romp in the five-star hotel sheets with Jungkook. Still, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to commit his touch to memory. Perhaps, despite your denial, you recognize that this is temporary. Deep down, you know that someday, all you’ll have left of him is a tragic echo. “I love the way you make me feel.”

“Me too,” he gasps, guiding your movements as his fingers dig into your hips. Clearly interpreting your admission differently than you had meant it. “Your pussy’s like heaven.” 

High on praise and drunk on the sounds you’re coaxing out of him, you whine, dragging your cunt up every inch of his throbbing length before slamming back. Hopefully, the dense forest behind you is enough to insulate the pornographic wails ripping through you. Even if someone somewhere hears, you can’t bring yourself to give a damn. Not when heady pleasure and adrenaline course through your veins like blood. 

Just when you’re about to collapse, arms giving out underneath you, Jungkook grabs you by the neck and holds you flush against his toned chest. “Don’t you run,” he chuckles. The low baritone rumble goes straight to your clit. His warm breath gusts over your skin, contrasting the chilly night air. “Don’t give up on me.”

He’s pounding into you now, choking you tighter than he ever has, but he pecks you so delicately. Lips barely ghosting over the shell of your ear. So gentle and tender. As tears stream down your cheeks for the second time tonight, you can’t help but feel there’s a hidden meaning behind his words.

“What’s wrong?” He smirks, tilting your face, wanting you to look him in the eye as you fall apart. The visual nearly makes you combust. His stringy hair is sticking to his cheeks, flushed from exertion. Even the tattoos littering the expanse of his neck are splotched pink and red. Twisting in his hold, you grab a fistful of his damp waves, fingers tickling his short undercut. “What do you want, baby?”

“Cum…”

“You wanna cum?”

“Please, please, please.” Weak whimpers punch out of you in tandem with his brutal thrusts.

“What do you say?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl,” he rewards you with a smack to your sensitive clit, “you can cum. I’ve got you.”

And with his permission, you’re cumming. Your legs shake violently as you’re overcome with blinding, electric gratification. If it wasn’t for Jungkook’s strong arms supporting you, you would’ve toppled face-first into the seat. He fucks you through the height of your orgasm; hips never ceasing, even when everything becomes so intense and sensitive that your body instinctively tries to push him away. He watches your face intently, reading your expressions to ensure he’s milked every last drop of your orgasm before he lets you fall onto the leather.

Even in your hazy state, you catch the breathy string of curses, a telltale sign of his own impending orgasm. “Fuck!” He groans, removing the condom to paint your ass and lower back in hot, white ropes. 

It’s funny, really. 

He refuses to cum with you or inside you, something so intimate and special, but he has no qualms cumming on you. It’s almost like he’s marking you, burning himself into your flesh. Consuming a piece of you every time your bodies come together as one. 

And all the while, his mind is somewhere else as his body swallows you alive. 

“Look at you,” Jungkook laughs, smoothing a palm up and down your spine, rubbing his semen into your skin the same way you had earlier. “I’ve made a mess out of you.” 

That’s true in more ways than one…

Lost in post-nut clarity, your brain barely registers Jungkook maneuvering you both into the car. Closing the door behind him, he moves you onto his lap, your back pressed against his sweaty button-up. Peering down, you see his slacks and boxers still around his ankles, black dress shoes poking out underneath. You’re in only a thong and sneakers, and your makeup is definitely melted. The two of you must look like the biggest sluts ever.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook mutters, noticing your delirious giggles. 

“Oh, nothing,” you hum, leaning into him. Habitually, he wraps both of his inked arms around your middle. You despise how incredibly natural and serendipitous it feels, almost like you’re meant to be in them.

God __, get your head out of the clouds and return to Earth. 

Life isn’t a romance novel, and you’re not a child anymore. You shouldn’t see the world as quartz-colored and magical. The man is seven years older than you. He has a wife and child. Logistically, it could never, ever work…

But if soulmates exist as they do in the books, you wish on every falling star that Jungkook is yours.

“What are you thinking about?” You coo softly, turning your head to stare into the abyss of his infinite eyes.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he can’t resist lowering his sinful hand to your most private area, cupping your sex unabashedly. “I want more.”

“You always want more.” 

“So do you,” he laughs, pointing out the way you grind into his touch. Nuzzling into your shoulder, he nips your skin and then soothes his tongue over it like an insincere apology. “Just one more time, okay?”

You nod, head leaning back on his shoulder as you succumb to his skilled fingers, rubbing your clit in tight circles. Jungkook pauses in contemplation before popping his glistening fingers into his mouth. When the taste hits his tongue, his face contorts. He even moans dreamily like you’re the most delicious dessert he’s experienced. The scene has your own brows furrowing, lips parting at just how hot and bothered he’s got you. 

Sensually, he trails the wet pads down, ghosting over a nipple, teasing you on their treacherous journey to your waiting core. He slides them in your wet cunt seamlessly, curling right into your g-spot. They move in a dip and wave that drives you wild, a wet suction noise sounding in the enclosed space. Turned on by your purrs and mewls, Jungkook subtly ruts against you, his plumping cock sliding between your cheeks.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?” He tuts patronizingly. “Gonna cum around my fingers, sweetheart?”

“No…”

“No?”

“Wanna cum with you…”

He stops, realizing what you’re alluding to, before pulling his fingers out and tapping your clit gently. “There’s another condom in my pocket. Can you hand it to me?”

“We don’t need it.”

“Yes, we do. Don’t be foolish.”

“... I’m on the pill,” you suggest hesitantly. Once again, you’re nothing but stupid and irresponsible when it comes to Jungkook. You just want to be with him, that’s all. 

“__,” he starts, voice shadowed with sternness, “give me the condom.”

Realizing he won’t budge, you do as he asks and fish it from his blazer, watching idly as he goes through all the steps—stroking himself to full mass, rolling on a barrier, and then positioning you between his spread legs as he guides you down onto his length with a hand on your hip. 

Cyclical. 

Like clockwork, your jaw drops, eyes screwing shut as you let him invade your space and infiltrate your mind. You don’t believe the two of you have ever tried this position before, but it feels so fucking good. His cock is so deep you can feel it in your fucking stomach. It’s obvious from his groaning and the aggressive spank he gives you that the unexplored angle is affecting him too. 

Outside, light rain begins chiming against the steel roof of his car as you take the first shallow rise of your hips. 

Scratch everything you’ve said about this not being a romance novel.

Distracted by the calming sound, you thoroughly miscalculate how much space you have in his sleek Mercedes Benz and bonk your head on the ceiling.

“Ow,” you wince with an embarrassed giggle.

Hissing at the impact, Jungkook clutches your head, massaging the area gently. “Are you okay?” His voice is muffled, and you can tell he’s trying his best not to laugh. 

“It’s not funny!” You shout playfully, slapping his knee. 

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” Chuckling, he moves your hair and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. “You’re cute, that's all.”

Cute? You swoon. 

“Alright baby, keep going. Don’t stop,” Jungkook orders, the heel of his calloused palms pushing at your ass, encouraging you to bounce on his needy cock. A fucked-out sigh escapes him, head falling back for a split second before it jerks back up again, not wanting to miss the view of your perky cheeks rippling as they collide with his solid pelvis. “This position is so sexy.” Overwhelmed, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. He chokes you for a moment, plays with your tits, swats them, grabs your hips, and then finally settles on your clit, flicking it like a light switch.

“Jungkook!” You wail, knees knocking together as you brace yourself. Men you’ve dated in the past struggled to get you off. Sure, they made you feel good, but they couldn’t quite bring you to the edge. It only ever took Jungkook a matter of minutes to have you whimpering and shaking, begging for release. “I can’t take so much! I can’t!”

Ignoring your pleas, Jungkook pilots your right arm around his shoulder, sending you flush against his frame once more. Dipping his head, he sucks the closest nipple into his mouth. Caught off guard, you’re so overstimulated that your hips come to a grinding halt.

“Move,” he commands with his lips sealed around your piercing, sending dizzying vibrations to your sensitive bud. 

“I can’t,” you whimper, back arching off his chest as you try to calm all five tingling senses. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“No…”

Jeon Jungkook was never one to take no for an answer. 

Scooting further down the seat, his large hands clasp behind your knees. He lifts your legs until the heels of your white sneakers are on either side of the driver’s headrest. In this new position, he’s able to pound up into you freely, relentlessly beating into clenching walls. Hitting every single delicious spot inside of you. “Jungkook, please!”

“Please, what?” Honestly, you have no clue what you’re begging for. All you know is that his mushroom tip rigorously stimulating your g-spot is going to have you gushing at any moment. His guttural, sensual groaning does nothing to slow your approaching orgasm. “You want more?” 

As if you weren’t already gasping for air, Jungkook raises your legs to your head, knees locked onto his inner elbows. His fingers intertwine behind your neck, thumbs pressing into the base of your throat as he folds you in half. 

A full fucking nelson. 

“Watch me fuck it.” With a stern grip, he forces your gaze to his thick shaft, sliding in and out of your sopping cunt. Your vision is watery, but you can clearly see just how turned on you are, creamy juices coating his entire shaft. “Open it, baby. Watch what I do to you.” 

Reaching both hands under your thighs, you spread your lips, getting a better look at him completely destroying you.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” Jungkook grunts, speech slurred as his arousal lulls him into a delirious, catatonic state. “Tell me what you see, baby.”

“So pretty, Kook.” You’re simply playing into his dirty talk, but the sight of your bodies connecting, becoming one, is profoundly gorgeous. “So wet…”

“Yeah? Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

That sends him into a frenzy, thrusts becoming so punctuated and violent that his cock accidentally slips out. 

“Put it back in, put it back in!” You chant, frantically shoving his length into you. The yelp you chortle out is accompanied by the sound of your hand smacking against the foggy car window as your climax engulfs you. “I love it!”

“I love yo-”

He quickly cuts himself off, but everything stops when the sentence fragment hits the air. 

Is your brain playing sick, twisted jokes on you… or was he really just about to say he loved you?

Before you can even process what’s happening, your biological responses take over, sending through the most earth-shattering, world-bending, mind-boggling orgasm you’ve ever had. Everything goes blank. Your eyes cloud with splotches and stars. Your ears ring with static and white noise, blurring the sound of Jungkook cumming underneath you, and the pouring rain outside, splashing against concrete. 

This time, he doesn’t pull out, just works through both of your orgasms with gentle ruts and vulnerable whimpers.

After you’ve both calmed down and your heaves have diminished to a slow, even pattern, he pulls out, crumpling the used condom into a loose napkin he found in the center console. Still on his lap and in his arms, you watch intently as Jungkook leans his head back, eyes closing as he inhales deeply. To you, he looks almost… peaceful. 

The moon trickles in through the thin streams on the window, reflecting on his face like stained glass—something that was once so clear and pure now jaded with somber shades of blue. Sad, but still beautiful, you think. 

Delicately, you trace a finger over the black ink decorating his skin. You sit silently for a while, basking in the comfortable aura, simply enjoying one another’s company, before you finally speak.

“Why this?” You peep, pointing to the dainty letters at the base of his neck.

“It’s my daughter’s name.” He counters playfully, the faintest hint of a smile on his pierced lips.

“Well, duh, I know that,” you roll your eyes with a giggle, “but why here?”

“Yul is like air to me.” 

Humming in contemplation, you continue your journey over the endless swirls and loops. During sex, the first three buttons of his shirt popped open, exposing the canvas of his chest. You feel a thick, dark cloud loom over you when you reach a certain tattoo, the one that’s plagued your mind ever since you first saw it. 

Another name is engraved right above his heart in the same delicate font as Yul’s:

Seol. 

“Yul, please. Enough.” If Jungkook had a dollar for every time he's said that in the last twenty-two minutes, he’d be nearly as rich as his boss, sitting directly in front of him on a very important Zoom call. “Daddy is working.”

Jumping at the sudden inflection of his voice, the little girl on his lap pulls her tiny hand away. For the most part, Yul was well-behaved. However, working from home proved to be an obstacle that he and his clingy toddler have yet to overcome. 

She’s interrupted his meeting three times already. First, cutting off his proposal with the Baby Shark theme song, blaring from her Pinkfong tablet that he’d forgotten to mute. Second, peeking above his desk with her space buns and doe eyes to show his colleagues the latest addition to her squishmallow collection. The last straw was when she squeezed his nose. 

With watery eyes and warbled lips, Yul blinks at Jungkook, heartbroken and confused as to why he didn’t make that funny noise she loves so much. Quickly, her gaze averts to her chunky legs, swinging aimlessly as she attempts to hold back the tears.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Jungkook sighs, tacking on an apology before turning his screen off. “Bunny,” he lifts her chin with his index finger, another palm flat on her protruding tummy, “please, don’t cry. You’re not in trouble. Daddy just-”

The ring of a doorbell interrupts him.

“__?” Jungkook questions, baby at his hip as he stands in the doorway before you. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp. You weren’t expecting to see him.

Usually, you spoke to Seulgi. You’ve only ever seen Jungkook in passing, sparing quick greetings before he’s out the door. It worked in your favor, really, because for whatever reason, you felt extremely awkward around him.

Almost like that gross nervousness you get when you’re around someone you find so incredibly attractive it makes you uncomfortable…

Maybe it’s because he’s covered in tattoos and piercings. Maybe it’s because he’s a dad. Your group of fellow horny twenty-something-year-old friends have told you mythical stories and fantasies about older men. Freshly turned thirty-year-old men. Men like Jungkook. Dilfs. Something about that potent dad nut… Like, you know it works. 

It’s inappropriate; you know it is. You’ve always tried your best to ignore the feral thoughts.

Today seems to be putting your mental strength to the test because Jungkook is dressed in baggy gray sweats, long dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. A few loose strands dangle devilishly in front of his eyes, taunting you.

“I-It’s 10… I’m supposed to be babysitting.”

“I’m working from home today. My wife didn’t tell you?”

With wide eyes and hot cheeks, you shake your head. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” you stutter, stepping back and preparing to make a mad dash to your hand-me-down Honda Civic. “I’ll just… be on my way then.” 

“Actually.” An icy grip on your wrist stops you. “I could use some help. This one-” he nods his head towards Yul, stuck to him like velcro, “-is being a bit needy today.” 

One look at her turns your flustered gape into a smile. The past month with her has been more difficult than you’d imagined. Yul was incredibly sweet and intuitive, but unbearably shy. Building a relationship with the girl was challenging, but you were determined to overcome it. “No way,” you frown animatedly, tickling her leg with the tip of your finger, “Yul would never.”

A giggle or two had been the goal. Instead, she buries her face into her father’s shoulder.

“Don’t take it personally,” Jungkook orders, noticing the defeated slump in your shoulders. “She’s always like this with new people.”

Seulgi had warned you that Yul would take a while to come around. Hopefully, it’ll happen organically. But for now, a little gift or two wouldn’t hurt your efforts, you supposed last night while running errands. Reaching into your purse, you pull out a bottle of non-toxic, baby-friendly nail polish. “Yul, look what I have!”

“Wow,” Jungkook plays along, gently nudging her head out of his neck. “Bunny, look!”

He calls her Bunny? 

You’re in for it now. 

Plump fingers wrap around the plastic, taking it out of your own with an awe-stricken stare. She holds it up right in front of Jungkook’s nose. “Pink.”

“Mhm, that’s right,” he confirms, pecking her temple. “Now, Daddy has to get back to work. Can you stay with __ for a bit?”

She looks at him, then at you, then at him again, then back at you, and finally, landing on the nail polish, giving her father a reluctant nod. You knew it would come in handy. Despite her agreeance, Yul still stretches the neck of his shirt with her tiny fists as she’s transferred into your arms. 

Somehow, you managed to survive that painfully awkward encounter…

Only to be thrown into another one immediately after. 

See, you’ve always known Yul was a daddy’s girl. On good days, the toddler would grab you by the hand and guide you around the house, giving you a tour of everything that belonged to her father. His shoes at the door. His coat on the hook. Even taking you into the bathroom to show you his shampoo bottle. But that fact was never more apparent than now, as Yul stands in the middle of the living room on the verge of tears.

“Daddy?”

“He’s working, sweetheart. Remember?” You coo on your knees in front of her. You’re quick to redirect her. “I like your shoes.”

The sniffles stop as she glances down at her white sneakers. “Mine…” she takes a hesitant step back, mistaking your compliment as an attempt to swindle her out of them. 

“That’s right,” you laugh, “they’re so pretty, just like you.”

She blinks at you for a moment, and then begins stomping her little foot: heel first. When she’s finally able to kick off her left shoe, she bends all the way over, pressing her palms flat against the hardwood floor. It’s the most uncoordinated way you’ve ever seen anyone pick something up. 

Without warning, Yul throws the shoe across the room. Well, that had been her intention, you assume. She had cocked her arm back too far and released too early, making it land behind her. 

Oh no, she hates you. 

With an excited grunt and a bounce, Yul points to the sneaker—its clear sole sparkling pink and purple.

“Oh,” you sigh in relief. “They light up?” 

“Yesh.” Plopping right onto her butt, she takes the other one off, repeating the process. “Like this!” Her arms stretch out and she clenches her two little front teeth, executing the most stellar charade of a light you’ve ever seen. 

It’s a small breakthrough, but you’ll take it. 

Then you paint her nails, just like you said you would. She’s as patient as a toddler could be, but her tiny toe keeps curling under the tickle of the brush, making pink polish bleed outside of the lines. 

“My goodness,” you groan, admiring the messy, albeit adorable, result. “You’re so cute! Wait until your dad sees you.” 

Yul shrieks wildly, smacking both hands over her mouth as she hobbles to her feet. You watch with confused giggles as the milk-drunk baby stumbles down the corridor. You figure out where she's going too late. 

Yul stands on her tippy toes, jumping to click open the door to Jungkook’s office with a loud creak. 

“Yul!” You whisper-shout. “Don’t-”

“Daddy!” She calls, stepping a single foot into the room, showing off the fresh paint job. “So cute!” 

Literally, your only job today was to keep Yul preoccupied while Jungkook worked, and you failed. Your breath catches in your throat, awaiting his response. 

“So pretty,” he gasps, “now go play, baby. I’m almost done.” 

A relieved exhale flies past your lips. 

Something you’ve picked up on from years of babysitting is that little girls aren’t allowed to compliment themselves. They’re always told it’s rude or conceited. Jungkook does neither, and you find that so refreshing. 

“Close the door, please,” he orders before she runs away, “gently.” Yul does her very best to shut the door quietly and then sprints back to you. 

The next few hours go smoothly. You discovered that the green-hating toddler has an affinity for avocados after giving her a bite of your toast. “Mmm!” She had hummed, looking at you with wide eyes. With a full belly and squishmallow in hand, Yul went out like a light for her afternoon nap, giving you time to catch up on some reading. 

“How was she?” You didn’t even hear him come out of his office, so the deep voice makes you jump, eyes tracking the sound. He’s leaning against a kitchen counter, one tattooed hand stuffed in his pocket and the other wrapped around a water bottle. It’s a thick one too, and his fingers still touch. 

“Better,” you cough, “she’s sleeping now.”

He hums halfheartedly, dark irises boring into you as he takes a sip. Without Yul to soften the edges, Jungkook is… intimidating, to say the least. “What are you reading?”

“The Catcher in the Rye…” you peep, quickly closing it. “I know, it’s kinda lame.”

“No, not lame at all. Anyone who thinks that is lying to themselves… or is just being a contrarian.” He leans his elbows against the dark granite island, fingers crossing as he stares at you. You’re sitting idle across the room, but his presence looms over you. He has this way of making you feel like he’s in your head, listening to everything you’re thinking. 

You pray he’s not. If he is, you'll definitely be fired. 

“I can’t tell which one you are yet.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but the ‘yet’ makes you come clean, shifting in your spot on the leather couch. “... Both.”

“Right,” he smirks, tongue fiddling with his lip ring, almost like he’s taunting you. “That’s one of my favorite books, actually. I relate to it in many ways.”

Your fingers dance across the red cover, concealing hundreds of pages of isolation, emptiness, and the heavy dread of passing time. What an awful thing to relate to. Sometimes, when you get too engrossed in the text, glimmers of yourself bleed within the lines too. 

“You’re an English major, right?”

“Oh, um, I’m not in school at the moment… I just read for fun.”

“Well, you have an Associate’s degree.” Him knowing that information about you makes you think he asked the previous question with the intention of baiting you into this conversation. “Why not get your Bachelor’s?”

“I don’t know. It’s… complicated.” 

Why is he interrogating you? What does he want? For you to confess that the fear of becoming a full-fledged adult makes you not want to go back to college? 

“Life is complicated. You’d be ridiculous to not go back.” The audacity should make you mad, but he speaks with so much authority that you’re dumbfounded. His head tilts, eyes squinting as they shift to the ceiling, debating something. His tongue clicks when he finally makes his decision. “Follow me; I have something I want to show you.” 

With the curl of two thick fingers, Jungkook calls you to follow him down the hallway. You blink for a moment, gushing at the suggestive motion of his hand. Shaking your head at the evil, intrusive thought, you rise to your feet. 

Just like a child, you have to skip to catch up to his long strides. Your gaze trails along white walls; there are pictures of him and Yul, Yul and Seulgi, but not a single one of them all together. 

Now that you think about it, any affection you’ve ever seen in the household was reserved for Yul and Yul only. Seems like trouble in paradise…

You shouldn’t speculate.

The heavy wooden door creaks as Jungkook holds it open for you. You’re not sure what you expected his room to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. The rest of the house is pretty modern, consisting of sleek blacks, whites, and woods. Countertops designed with icy swirled marble. Everything has this cold, impersonal vibe, but this room is the total opposite. The walls are baby blue, decorated top to bottom with dreamy clouds. You spot a chubby yellow star peeking out from underneath one of them, adorned with a hand-painted smiley face. On his nightstand, there’s a pastel purple foldable record player. Standing behind it is a single vinyl: Beautiful Boy by John Lennon. 

“Since you like to read,” Jungkook coughs, turning your attention to a sleek bookcase, stuffed to the brim with hundreds of titles you’ve never even heard of. “I figured you’d appreciate my collection.”

“Yeah, it’s…” The words trail off as you step forward. On a whim, your finger extends, tracing the delicate spine of a well-loved book. A low chuckle brings you back to reality; you peep, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you yank your hand away. “It’s… really cool.”

“You can borrow something if you’d like. Does anything catch your eye?” Plopping down onto the computer chair, Jungkook rummages through his desk drawer and pulls out a tiny black case. You didn’t even know he wore glasses, and when he nudges them comfily onto the bridge of his nose, you nearly melt. As if he could get any more attractive.

“N-No,” you stutter as he wheels closer. Even though you’re towering over him, you still feel so small in his presence. You pray to God he can’t sense how incredibly nervous he makes you. “Not really.” 

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, you know,” he hums, low and sly. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No!” You peep in shock. Is the man a fucking mindreader? 

“Right.” Jungkook peers over the rim of his lenses, dark eyes glimmering in the whimsical glow of the room. “So __, what do you want to be?”

“A teacher,” you say, playing with your fingers.

“My wife wanted to be a teacher, too.” He shoots you the softest, gentlest smile. “She ended up doing business instead.” 

“Why?” You ask, gnawing on your bottom lip. You don’t mean to pry, but this is the first time you’ve ever actually talked to him in a meaningful way. Something about him intrigues you, like a puzzle you’re determined to find all the pieces to. 

“Ah, well,” he sighs, inked fingers scratching at the back of his neck. “We figured it’d be best for our family if we both pursued more lucrative career paths. I switched my major from English to finance.” You light up at the confession, the similarity putting you at ease. “I’m sorry if I was abrasive earlier,” he frowns, “I settled down young and had to sacrifice a lot, so I encourage you to go for something that fulfills you.” With his elbows on his knees, he leans closer to you. “I think you’d be a fantastic teacher. You take care of my daughter well.”

“Thank you,” you peep, cheeks heating up at the compliment. “I mean… you didn’t have Yul that young.” He tried to comfort you, so it’s only fair you do the same, right? “I think your late twenties are a great time to have children.”

Almost immediately, his face drops, eyes glazing over with something so raw. So… longing. You’ve never seen anything like it before. The corners of his nose twitch before he composes himself. “Yeah, I suppose they are.” His pink tongue toys with his lip ring, swiftly changing the subject. “You seem surprised.” 

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting all this.” 

“Expecting what?” 

“I don’t know,” you laugh clumsily, “books.” You mentally curse yourself as soon as the answer comes out. Really, __? Books? 

“What?” He starts, raising a brow at you. “You thought I couldn’t read?”

Thankfully, Jungkook takes your comment playfully. 

“Maybe,” you respond in the same lighthearted manner, feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence, “I also didn’t expect your room to look like a little boy’s room.”

All of the cheerfulness in the air evaporates as Jungkook glares at you with a clenched jaw and flared nostrils. Cleary irate. You’ve triggered a landmine.

“Jungkook, I’m-”

“Stop talking.” He raises a hand, cutting you off before you finish the sentence. Turning his back to you, he wheels over to his desk. “You can leave. You’re done for the day.” 

Looking back, you know why he was so upset that day. You had put the puzzle pieces together a while ago. You’re unsure of the details, and asking for them feels wrong. Silence feels wrong, too, though. Until now, you’ve never dared to speak up. 

You have no idea how to navigate something of this magnitude, but you just want him to know that you’re here. That you’re trying.

Cautiously, with your hand still on the tattoo, you whisper: “He must’ve been so beautiful, Jungkook…”

The thumb that had been drawing soft shapes into your side comes to an eerie pause as he freezes under you. When you look at him, your heart shatters. His chin is caved in with little dents, eyes glazed over with so much emotion. You’ve never seen a human being look so broken.

“Get off me.”

You frown at the shift in his demeanor. “Why?”

Remaining tight-lipped, Jungkook physically removes you from his lap, dumping you onto the seat next to him.

“Why can’t we ever talk about anything serious?”

He remains quiet as he slides his underwear up, not sparing you a single glance. When he speaks, his tone is painfully detached. “Like what?”

“Like what you said,” you answer curtly. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Shaking his head with a cynical chuckle, he begins buttoning his pants, pretending you don’t exist. Like you’re not right beside him, falling to pieces. 

Your eyes dart to the ceiling, lashes fluttering rapidly as you mull over what to say next. You guess now would be an appropriate time to ask him what you’ve wanted for weeks. Blinking does nothing to combat your unshed tears when you realize that his answer has the potential to destroy everything you’ve been dreaming about. Everything you’ve hoped for. “When are you going to leave her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous, Jungkook!” Shaking your head furiously, you feel the first hints of anger in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “I’m not! I see the way you look at me!”

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen? Huh?” Finally, he’s paying attention to you, just not in the way you hoped. His face is beet red as he leans closer. “Don’t tell me you actually thought we were going to end up together, __. Seriously? You’re my babysitter! You’re seven years younger than me! This isn’t some fucking fairytale; it’s life! There’s no such thing as happily-ever-afters—grow up and stop acting like a damn child!”

“No, Jungkook,” you croak, fully sobbing as you push an angry finger into his chest. “You’re the one who’s acting childish! I may not be the most mature person, but at least I know how to accept love!”

“So let’s say I divorce my wife, then what? Huh?” He seethes. “I get partial custody? I only see Yul on weekends? Every other week? She grows up in a broken home? I refuse to ruin my daughter’s life like that.”

You take a shaky breath, eyes shifting to the car floor, the air fresher on his mirror, the window. Anywhere but him. The way Jungkook explains your make-believe future together is nothing how you envisioned it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s just a fucking asshole. Neither thought process eases the pain.

“But you’re okay with ruining mine?”

For a moment, his features soften, and you see a glimmer of guilt wash over him. It fizzles out just as fast as it came. “You’re being dramatic.” Jungkook steps outside, tucking his shirt into his pants. “Get dressed.” 

With jittery hands and blurry eyes, you grab your discarded lace bra, the one you had bought just for tonight, and slide it on your shoulders. When you pick your shirt up, you see that it’s ripped and tattered. Completely destroyed. 

“Here,” Jungkook mumbles, tossing you his blazer as he watches you in the rearview. 

Once you’re dressed, you awkwardly slide into the passenger seat. The scent of his cologne makes your head pound and your stomach flip. 

“I want to go home.”

His lips part, preparing to persuade you otherwise. The hotel room he booked is ready and waiting, just as it is every Friday. He decides against it, simply murmuring an ‘okay’ before putting the keys in the ignition and starting the engine. 

“Do you want to get something to eat before I drop you off?” 

You just want your dad. 

“I just want to go home.”

Other than the whoosh of splashing puddles and your soft sniffles, the ride to your house is painfully silent. Leaning your head against the window, you watch the moon. For miles and miles, it never changes. It’s stagnant, frozen in time, surrounded by nothing but endless blackness. 

“Stop crying! I can’t stand it anymore!” Jungkook shouts, hitting the steering wheel with his open palm, finally growing uncomfortable from your non-stop tears. The sudden outburst makes you flinch. Sighing heavily, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Just… stop crying, please.”

You sink further into your seat, curling your lips into your mouth to suppress a sob.

“I’m not worth your tears, __.”

You feel nothing but relief when he finally turns onto your street, stopping all the way at the end, concealed by the night and the shadows of overhanging trees. 

“Am I picking you up next Friday?” He asks just before you leave. 

With raw cheeks and a scowl, you slam the door in his face. 

Your feet are so heavy that the sidewalk sinks under you like quicksand. No matter how many steps you take, the comfort of your house seems out of reach. Too far gone. Confusion weighs on your shoulders. You should feel proud, empowered even, but that voice in the back of your mind smothers any sense of relief. 

Deep down, you know this isn’t going to be the last weekend you spend with Jungkook. 

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

#bts #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook angst #btshoneyhive

[visionarymode]

Acknowledgement

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: roman reigns x female reader

✧ word count: 2,397

“Y-yes my tribal chief.” Paul fearfully stuttered as he got up in a hurry and left the room as he obeyed the tribal chief’s orders. Roman let out an annoyed and impatient sigh as he glared at Paul with those piercing evil eyes. The screen transitioned into the crowd as AJ Styles’ entrance music hit with the bell ringing to indicate the start of a new match segment. was sitting at the mini table backstage as she just finished watching Roman on TV in his backstage segment for the night. She loved watching him in character because he was so damn brilliant at what he does. There was truly no one like him. Not to mention his incredible dedication and sexy execution of his character…the tribal chief. Roman was the perfect man but my god, something about the tribal chief just made her want to jump through the screen and as he always says, acknowledge him, in many different explicit ways she could imagine. She sat there as her sexual frustration built up not being able to forget that segment or his fine self. you know what? She thought to herself. She grabbed her phone and got up to walk down the hallway. She was about to send him a text before she abruptly bumped into someone.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry-“ she stopped to notice who it was. Paul Heyman. 

“Someone’s eager to get to her destination.” he joked as he crossed his arms raising his eyebrow. Oh, he has no idea…

“I just tend to walk fast Paul that’s all!” she giggled as she crossed her arms as well. “Is he still in his locker room?” she questioned as if he’d know the answer. 

“Yes he is. he has some free time before our next segment in about half an hour.” he patted my shoulder as he continued to walk past her. 

“Thank you Wiseman!” she called out jokingly. She continued her walk until she stopped to read what was in front of the door to her right. Roman Reigns. finally. 

She left two quick little knocks on the door before opening it to see him lying up comfortably on the black leather couch scrolling through his phone. He looked up and immediately put his phone down as he flashed his pearly whites smiling in response to her presence. 

“Hey baby.” he greeted her as he got up from the couch.

She locked the door behind her and she started walking towards him to embrace him. He picked her up as she wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. She giggled as she broke away to look at him. He looked so fucking sexy. When did he not though? His hair was slicked back in his usual bun, and his thick salt and pepper beard glistened from the oil he put on it to make it shine. He was wearing his 1000 days t-shirt with his track jacket over it zipped down.

“What?” he chucked. 

“Nothing you just look so…fucking…sexy.” she paused after each word to peck his lips. 

“Yeah?” he seductively mumbled against her lips trying to slide his tongue into her mouth. She granted access as she sucked on it. she broke the kiss for a split second to respond. 

“Yeah…”  

“You’re so…fucking….beautiful.” He mimicked her actions pausing after each word to leave sloppy kisses on each side of her neck. 

“Mmm I was watching your backstage segment and I don’t know. Something about the tribal chief makes me so horny…” she whispered in his ear. 

“Ahhh I see. You wanted to pay the tribal chief a visit huh?” he asked as he moved his hands from her waist down to her ass and grabbed a handful. 

“I just wanted to stop by & acknowledge you properly…” 

He lifted his face from her neck to look at her and smirked. Before she had a chance to say anything else, he sat her down on the leather couch. He leaned in to lift her chin and kissed her slowly and passionately. He rubbed her thighs up & down without breaking eye contact as he licked his lips admiring how beautiful she was. 

She could feel her panties get more and more damp with each motion of his hands. 

“The tribal chief really appreciates you putting time aside for him.” he professed. 

His rubbing turned into massages as he slowly moved his way up to her thighs spreading them slowly apart. 

“Oh does he now?” she asked playfully, but was screaming on the inside as her breath hitched in her throat. 

He left sloppy kisses all over her inner thighs before he stopped abruptly and noticed how wet she already was.

“Mmm look at you…” he muttered under his breath as he swiftly ran two fingers down her panties. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet…” he stopped mid-sentence to run his tongue over her damp panties. 

“…and you’re already dripping wet for daddy.” His eyes remained on hers as he grabbed her panties with his teeth & slowly ripped them off of her. If she could, she could cum right this second. 

“Tell me how much…” he spread her folds apart as she felt his breath on her wet pussy.

“…you acknowledge me.” 

“I acknow-“ Before she could finish her sentence she gasped as she felt his thick tongue swirl over her clit. 

“What was that baby?” he mumbled as he lapped his tongue up and down steadily yet slowly as he stared her down. She let out a moan that couldn’t be prevented and that was his cue to cover her mouth with his hand as the other pulled her right thigh over his shoulder to pull her closer. She managed to moan louder than before despite his hand being over her mouth as he ate her out like it was his last meal on earth. She suddenly felt him pull away which caused her to drop her jaw as she panted in frustration. 

“Wh- why’d you sto-“ 

“Shhhh. Who told you you could question the tribal chief huh?” he glared at her not to the point where she felt hurt but to the point where she was heavily turned on. She shook her head as she understood what he was doing. he wasn’t gonna break character. damn, he’s so good. 

“Or are you gonna be a good girl and do what daddy says?” he asked raising his eyebrows. She nodded her head eagerly so he could just put his mouth back on her needy and aching pussy. He set her thigh back down on the couch as he pulled his shirt over his head exposing his chiseled and tanned body. His tattoos on his pec & right arm were in full view as she bit her lip yearning for him. He grabbed her hand to pull her upwards in a seated position inches away from his face. He rolled up the shirt and stuffed it in her mouth. 

“Since you can’t control yourself this is what we gon' have to do huh?” 

Their eyes stayed locked for what felt like an eternity before he gently grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back on the couch.

“Now be a good girl and let daddy eat his pussy.” He dragged her legs towards him in the quickest motion and folded her so her knees were touching her shoulders. He kept his eyes on her as he let a long drop of spit slowly fall into her pussy. She was holding onto the back of her knees whimpering into the shirt that was stuffed into her mouth just moments ago so he could work on her. He used two of his fingers to spread the saliva along her entrance before he slowly slipped those same two fingers inside of her. They both moaned in unison as she was falling apart from pure pleasure. He started pumping his fingers in and out at a faster pace. Her muffled moans were growing louder and practically matched the same speed of his fingers. He licked her clit before he started sucking on it as she was on the verge of her climax. 

“Look at your pretty pussy soaking for me. you gon’ cum baby?” he asked licking his lips as he continued to finger fuck her. Her eyes were shut and her head fell back on the head of the couch as she struggled to form any words. He removed his shirt from her mouth and questioned her again. 

“Speak up baby. what’s my name?” 

“Ro-roman…” she was seconds away from releasing as she felt his fingers slow down the pace and tease their removal from inside her. 

“Nah…try that shit again.” he softly demanded. Then the lightbulb popped in her head. 

“my- my tribal chief…oh fuuuuuuuck…” she cried out as she came all up in his face as he sucked and licked every ounce of her juices making sure there wasn’t a drop left. That earth-shattering orgasm made her moan so loud that he had to bring his hand back up to clasp her mouth while he cleaned her up with his tongue. She was panting heavily as he lifted his face from in between her thighs licking his wet lips with the biggest smirk on his face. His beard was glistening but this time it wasn’t from the beard oil, it was from her. 

“Mmm there you go baby.” he praised as he winked at her. this majestic motherfucker. holy shit. 

“Now…” he started to say as he wiped her leftover cum off the corners of his mouth and sucked it off his thumb. He got up from the floor and took a seat next to her. He spread open his legs and rested his arms on opposite sides of the couch. 

“Your turn baby.” he winked while flashing his smug grin. 

She felt like she needed a breather after he just completely wore her out. She expected to come in here and finally pleasure him first for a change but he was never one to not pleasure his girl first. It was always his main priority whenever they got intimate. Making her cum before she could return the favor for daddy. 

She slid off the couch and got on her knees struggling to make eye contact because of how flushed and nervous she felt not only by his presence but by that insane fucking orgasm. His sweats and boxers slid off together as his long, hard, and pretty dick sprung up ready to be devoured. She felt her inner thighs getting hot once again as she prepared to take him all in & pleasure the fuck out of the tribal chief. He cupped her jaw as she was forced to meet his gaze. 

“Now be a good girl. open that pretty mouth and acknowledge me,” he ordered in a low voice. She quickly obeyed and started slowly stroking his shaft with one hand. Her tongue met his tip with a slow lick before swirling around it savoring his pre cum as he let out a low groan from her captivating eye contact. 

“Mmm say it…” 

“I acknowledge you, daddy,” she whispered before wrapping her lips around his tip and putting as much of him in her mouth as she could. She kept her eyes on him while sucking as his mouth slightly fell open with his head falling back. He was holding up her hair with his right hand in a slightly tight grip but she didn’t even care. She loved that he was in this vulnerable state as she had all the control to make him completely convulse and let go in her mouth. 

“Fuck baby just like that…take daddy’s dick like the good girl you are…” he struggled to finish his sentence as he groaned in pure satisfaction.

She studied him as he let out shaky pants while his left arm gripped the back arm of the couch so tight that his knuckles were turned white. She liked seeing him completely fall apart slipping out of character due to her mouth driving him completely fucking insane. Her mouth & tongue quickened the pace as she moaned around his length. He struggled to stay still and bucked his hips forward wanting her to take it all. His dick was so thick and big that she started gagging because of the struggle to fit it all in her mouth…but she didn’t give a fuck. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying fulfilling the tribal chief’s desires. 

“fuuuuck I’m cumming baby…” he groaned as she felt him getting close with tears prickling in her eyes from gagging on his dick. He gently pulled her hair back to take her off him and he let out a low moan as her tongue flicked on his tip once again. He quickly came down from his high to recover and immediately channeled his dominance. 

“Open that pretty mouth for me baby girl,” he ordered as he jerked himself with his left hand. 

She obeyed as she opened her mouth & stuck out her tongue keeping her eyes locked with his. He hummed and licked his lips and came all on her tongue as it dropped to the back of her throat. Droplets of his cum landed on her chest as they started swirling down to her breasts. He smirked at the sight of his mess all over his princess. 

“Swallow for daddy…” he instructed in a deep whisper. 

She obeyed swallowing every last drop of his seed. He wiped the leftovers on the corner of her mouth with his thumb and grazed it over her lips. 

“Say it,” he whispered slowly sticking his thumb in her mouth not taking his eyes off hers as she sucked it off and removed her mouth from his touch with a final slow lick.

“I acknowledge you…my tribal chief,” she responded with a raspy voice. He gestured for her to come sit on his lap with the flick of his finger. She was face to face with her man as he pressed his tongue flat on her chest licking up what was left of her neck and leaving soft kisses. He cupped her face as their lips were inches away before he praised her with the words she melted for once again. 

“Mhm. that’s my good girl.” 

---- thank you for reading! this is the first fanfic i’ve written so i hope y'all liked it :)

you can read more of my fics here ❤️‍🔥

tag list: @harmshake @cyberdejos2

#wwe #roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #head of the table #the tribal chief #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x y/n

[annaholak]

Wyrd Sisters Abroad

For this year's inktober I'm reimagining the three Lancre coven members, from Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, as modern day witches (and sending them on a trip to America).

So let me introduce you to:

Gytha "Nanny" Ogg (canon version)

Gytha is the optimist of the coven. She has buried three husbands (and that’s just the official count), she has fifteen children, innumerable grandchildren, an evil cat named Greebo, and only one tooth. She likes smoking her pipe, eating, drinking, playing her banjo while taking her bath, and singing (mostly “the Hedgehog Song” and “A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End”). She always checks under her bed before going to sleep in the hope that there might be a man hiding under it (you never know…).

And:

the reimagined Gytha "Nanny" Ogg

Don't let her pink velour tracksuit fool you; she’s not one of the working out types of octogenarians (in fact she doesn’t do anything tiring if she can help it) - but she does like to be comfy (and maybe a little bit sexy - though she probably wouldn’t admit that). Her sneakers were chosen by one of her many grandchildren and “they’re red because Nana likes red and they have stars on them because Nana is MAGIC!”. Her witch’s hat has a red ribbon on it because she does indeed like red. Not pictured is her foul-tempered, evil-smelling, one-eyed cat Greebo whom, despite all evidence to the contrary, Nanny considers to be a sweet, harmless kitten.

Esmerelda (Esme) "Granny" Weatherwax (canon left, reimagined right)

Esme is the most intimidating of the coven. She is very confident in her abilities. When she says that something is impossible she usually means “for anyone except herself”. Accordingly she is not a good loser (she hasn’t had much practice); from her point of view, losing is something that happens to other people. She’s never scared of walking through a dark forest because she knows that the most terrifying thing in it is herself. Her implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extends to other witches, very tall trees and, on occasion, mountains. Despite being an extremely powerful witch, she prefers to use headology instead of actual magic whenever possible; she is a firm believer in giving people what they need, not what they want. She is Good and she is Right, but she's not Nice. She is feared and respected, but generally not liked.

In canon she is the most "traditionally" dressed of the three Lancre witches: all black, simple dress, sturdy boots, tall witch's hat fastened to her tight bun with hatpins, and the occasional vest. Her goal is to look as much of a witch (and as intimidating) as possible.

In the reimagined version she is still dressed in all black but I opted for a different kind of intimidating-older-woman style: the ageing punk rock virgin with the evil stare.

And last but not least:

Magrat Garlick (canon version)

Magrat's name is an accident; her mother wanted to name her Margaret, but didn't know how to spell it. She is the youngest member of the Lancre coven, and the least confident in her magical abilities (probably the reason why she rarely wears her witch’s hat - instead she prefers to wear glamorous green dresses that would suit more curvy figures than hers, and slightly wilted flower crowns on her unruly hair). She also has a huge collection of occult jewellery, is a vegetarian, and believes in folk songs and the Cycles of Nature. She is the most bookish of the three witches and an excellent herbalist - something even Granny Weatherwax (who usually calls her a “wet hen”) reluctantly admits. In “Witches Abroad” she inherits a Fairy Godmother wand, but is unable to master it; the only effect she is able to produce with it is turning things into pumpkins.

And:

the reimagined Magrat Garlick

As a vegetarian on a quest to save Mother Earth, she wears clothes made of natural fibers, vegan sandals, and reusable tote bags. She’s also wearing a witch’s hat (purely because I couldn’t resist the aesthetic appeal), but it’s dark green instead of the traditional black and the shortest one of the group. She still has a soft spot for crystals and magical jewellery though. She wears an ankle bracelet with tiny bells on it (she finds the soft tinkling weirdly soothing).

#I had fun with these #wish me luck with inktober #usually all hell breaks loose whenever I start a drawing challenge #discworld #fanart #gnu terry pratchett #witches #inktober2022

[misseviehyde]

ROLE-MOMMY

Even though Abi was only a few months older than Nikki - her bestie often joked, "You're like a Mom to me!"

Nikki's real Mom had died when she was young and she and her dad Michael had been left to fend for themselves. Nikki had been searching for a mother figure all her life and in a strange way she'd found it in Abi.

Abi was mature, sensible, organised and caring. She looked out for Nikki and inspired her with love and affection. She had to admit she often did feel a maternal affection towards Nikki and even more... she had a massive crush on Michael her friends Dad.

There was just something so... hot... about an older man. Michael had a great body and he was wealthy, mature and sexy. Of course he would never consider dating someone his daughters age so Abi knew it was just a fantasy.

Until the girls found the game of course.

Nikki and Abi volunteered at a charity shop at the weekends and it would often be very quiet. After an hour of chatting they got so bored that they began looking through some of the items. That's when Nikki found 'Role-With-It.'

Laughing the girls looked through the game. You had to pick a card and then dress up and act like the character on it. Other players scored you on your performance.

Giggling, Nikki shuffled the deck and Abi took a card. "Step-Mom," she laughed delightedly, "hah - it's like this game read my mind! Well there are plenty of clothes to choose in here... let's play."

Abi wandered over to a rack of dresses hanging by the window. She smiled happily as she saw a cute spotty dress, the sort of thing a home maker in the 50's might have worn. She was about to reach for it when she noticed a tight black leather dress hanging next to it.

Abi hesitated. The spotty dress was cute and fit with her idea of motherhood, but there was something dangerous and exciting about the leather dress. Michael wouldn't be able to resist a woman wearing something like that. It would make her look so... so fucking powerful. Maybe she should try it... after all, this was only a silly game to pass the time.

To her surprise Abi found herself reaching out to take the dress. It felt good in her hands, shiny and eager to be worn. But she wasn't done shopping yet...

Walking to the shoe rack - Abi's eyes were immediately drawn to a pair of tight black knee high boots. They were wickedly heeled and would look AMAZING with her new dress. Ignoring the other shoes she gathered them up too and headed to the dressing room.

Nikki watched uneasily. Abi had a strange feverish look to her. Her usually kind eyes shone with a weird lustful fire and her fingers were already tugging at her own clothing as if she were desperate to rip it off and get into something better.

The clothes Abi had picked out didn't look very motherly. Well... evil step-mom maybe.

Disappearing into the changing room, Nikki heard the rustling of clothes... maybe even a tearing sound. It almost sounded like Abi was ripping off her old clothes in her eagerness to wear the new items.

She heard the creak of tight leather, the zipping of boots and a moan of evil satisfaction.

"Ohhhhh fuck yesssss."

"Abi? Are you okay in there?"

The curtain was suddenly thrown back and out stormed Abi with a disdainful sneer on her face wearing her new outfit.

"I'm good - in fact I'm fucking perfect actually."

Nikki backed away in fear as Abi emerged into the light.

The new clothing squeezed her body in ways she had never seen before. Abi now seemed to have wider hips and larger tits. Her posture was more ultra-feminine with hands on a cocked hip and her whole body language screamed 'fierce'.

Her face now wore a hot sneer and her eyes seemed to flash with wicked glee as she studied herself with satisfaction in the mirror.

"Mmmmh these clothes make me feel so fucking good. Now I just have to start acting like the role too."

She spun on her heels and advanced on Nikki. "I guess that makes me your step-mom. Your clearly more attractive than you step-mom."

"Abi... something is wrong, we have to stop playing..."

Nikki gasped in fear as she watched blonde roots suddenly begin to spread and flow through her friends once brown hair. Long lashes grew heavy with mascara and slutty nails shot out of every finger.

Abi's bust got even bigger and she started to age and mature.

"Stop playing? I'm only just getting started 'dear'. Being your stepmom means I get to be a spoiled rich bitch and fuck your delicious Daddy. I love it!"

"No Abi - this isn't you... this isn't the kind of Mom you want to be... fight it!"

But Abi wasn't listening anymore. She was orgasming, her eyes rolling back in her head, as her tits pumped full of plastic and she aged into a viscious thirty year old gold-digger.

"No Nikki. Mommy likes what she has become. Mmmmh I feel like such a fucking evil bitch and I LOVE it. This is so much better than being some kind wallflower. Haha - now I get your Daddy's big cock and I finally can free myself of your parasitic presence."

Nikki sobbed tears rolling from her eyes as Abi stood over her with a gloating expression.

"All those years you moped around after me because your pathetic Mommy was dead. Eughhhh the years I've wasted looking after you... well I'm finally free."

"Now call me Mommy. Let reality become what it always should have been. Forget about your friend and let me replace her."

"Noooooo," sobbed Nikki as she tried to fight the fog growing in her head. "Please nooo!"

"Fucking say it... you little bitch."

"No Mommy, I... ohhh what have I done!"

As Nikki spoke the words and accepted Abi in her new form, reality locked and with a cry of triumph Abi threw back her head and laughed...

*************

Abi felt good.

She always felt good, but right now she felt super good.

Her husband had just spent an hour fucking her in every position she'd demanded and now she had an appointment at the nail bar to look forward to.

Dressed in designer clothes, her massive tits creaked in their barely contained leather prison as she glanced contemptously at her pathetic miserable step-daughter Nikki who was busy scrubbing the floor of the kitchen where Abi had squirted earlier.

"Make sure you don't miss a spot this time you little bitch. You're fucking useless."

Abi smiled. The girl needed bringing in-line. It was good that she had such a perfect role-model in Abi to aspire to.

Not that she ever could. Abi was perfect of course...

THE END

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #corruption #role with it #stepification

[ahoppingmagician]

Nope

Alright, Viv just stop this train wreck, pull the plug, change your name and move to a mountain in the middle of nowhere. his woman is fully grown and I won't coddle her like the rest of the world.

Warnings: SA and Racism(If you aren't in the right head space please don't read these sections or this post)

SEXUAL ASSAULT

Alright, let's start with sexual assault. It shouldn't be treated like a joke or erotic because it's not. What else can I say to get it through people's skulls that SA isn't funny or sexy? If you truly need a post to understand why it's not acceptable, you are dangerous or too young to watch this show. This 30-something-year-old knows it's serious, but chooses when it should be taken seriously depending on her twink of the day. (You don't pick or choose when a topic is serious Viv, but go off)

Also, she needs to give things warnings, like I did for this post, for people to be

Happy

Healthy

Safe

Is it more hassle for you? Not at all. Will it be mentally damaging for the viewers? Yes, because you didn't warn them like a responsible creator about something they might have lived or have similar experiences with being shown on screen.

Goofy Rant

Now I'll brighten the mood by being a hateful bitch.

What is this plot? seriously how did we start with a hotel and then get to a threat of war between heaven and hell in like six episodes. That alone is two seasons, never mind every character's trauma, and other people that want the hotel cast dead, oh yeah and backstories for most of our cast...im six episodes.

VIV SLOW THE FUCK DOWN

If you have to cram every major plotline into your story then you failed. What she should of done is trim the fat off this burnt peice of bacon. Get rid of the Vees because they are pointless to the other plots or maybe the angel demon war because why would this show need it, or all the unfunny jokes.

Characters are shit adjacent but is that a surprise to literal any...wait her rabid fans. If your a fan of this series for god knows why then good for you...unless your a FAN fan. I have many words to say to them but that's for another day.

Edit: (Didn't even fucking know I posted this today, so sorry, onto racism)

RACISM

Now I am as Caucasian as can be so maybe I shouldn't speak on this, POC let me know if I can or if I should just shut up and let you do it.

I don't know much about voodoo/voodou, but I do know that it is a practiced religion, not a vibe VIV. You can't add a different religion to this show because it's a CHRISTIAN show, it explores the faults of God's judgement, heaven, and hell. Also, voodoo/voodou shouldn't be used as "evil" magic because we aren't in the 1900s to early 2000s anymore VIV. Also, you know it's a heavily if not completely black religion.

Alastor, Husk, Velvette, Emily, and Sera(Millie from HB aswell) don't look black. Now maybe I'm an asshole for this or even racist but where is the textured hair, like box braids, dreadlocks, afros, afro puffs, or just curlier hair in general. Why aren't you exploring the trauma that Alastor definitely went through because he was a biracial man in the early 1900s which could easily explain (not excuse) his behaviour, you could have a nurture versus nature theme.

Nifty feels...weird to me. First of all an Asian woman in the 50s who seems to have been raised or travelled to the USA, again racist trauma and all that being completely ignored. She feels like a stereotype, between the constant cleaning, obsessive behaviour, and her erratic behaviour. It feels like the crazy Asian woman stereotype.

Alright, that's it for right now, Have a wonderful day or night and wear whatever because it's all about your comfort because the world if making my own sanity crumble.

#anti vivziepop #hazbin hotel criticism #anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #vivziepop

[mishkakagehishka]

Why YOU should vote Mika in the @enstars-sexyperson-polls poll!!!

What makes a man "sexy"? What is that mysterious, ever-elusive quality that can turn adorable into attractive? This is, naturally, a question with no objective answer. But if one were to try real hard, a possible conclusion can be reached.

To start with, what makes a man "sexy"? The obvious answer is "sex appeal". A man who dresses well, elegantly,

where appeal is kept in this apparent tidiness, this put-together image he presents. A suit and tie, with a blazer draped elegantly over his shoulders, loafers and slacks, elegant shirt tucked in, added attraction levels in the form of suspenders, and a dog (to imply he is good with animals, a trait most attractive). For an extra point, a focus on the sole of his shoe, perfect to be stepped on. In the middle image, this elegance is added to in the form of a dated yet chic suit, layered and accessorised with pearls and a hat, the lapels giving off an aura of a man with a fortune to his name, his outstretched hand inviting and open. The same motif of an inviting outstretched hand is in the left-most image, the Valentine's event card. Of course, just in being a Valentine's card, his being sexy is a given. Gloves, suits, blazers and dress-shirts, the only skin we can see is a coquettish view of his wrists. Truly, the suit makes the man in this case. But that's not all there is to Mika's sexiness.

Perhaps sex appeal is a man who shows off skin in the most delicate of ways,

not unlike a fanciful bird who shows off its colorful feathers to impress a mate, Mika's FS2 shows his brightness, his identity. What is more appealing than a man sure of his style? Though colourful and bright, he accessorised with safety pins, DIY chains, little bears and rings, platform shoes with wings and a devil's tail. Can we say punk? Truly the little devil; different from the coquettish flash of the wrist in the previous images, in this he presents a bolder view: his knee and leg peeking from torn jeans, his jacket falls seductively to reveal the gentle skin of his shoulders, and, finally (and most importantly), his middle.

The way in which his tummy is shaded implies far more than one might assume at first glance. There is no roughness of hard abs, no unpleasant and uninviting cold. Indeed, it would seem that Mika's stomach is not flat, that a smidge of squishy fat is stored in it. Truly, I ask of you: what could possibly be sexier, than a man's soft tummy? And it's not just about his FS2.

Indeed, as we can see in the image above, Mika's casual spring-summer outfit has a certain detail to it one might describe as "slutty", which is to say, an extension of "sexy". That's right. Under that sleek black jacket, he is wearing nothing short of a sleeveless shirt with a high neckline. Now you, dear reader, tell me if you find that unsexy! His bare arms have even found their way into a 3* card,

And despite it not showing as much skin (though, as stated above, there is no need for a man to show skin to be sexy), the Antique Legend is also one exuding sex appeal. Simply look at that posing, the sultry, yet laidback appearance it gives him, the coy position of the wrist holding a fan, one of few cards to bring his full body into the picture.

And how could I ever hope to describe Mika's sex appeal without mentioning the Black-Haired Living Doll card?

What can be sex appeal? It can be a man with his hands covered in blood, a man dressed like an affluent and powerful figure, yet presented in a most debased manner. Decadence at its finest. With the blood decorating his collar and caking his fingers, Mika presents the image of sexiness through danger. It is almost mythological in nature, as many of the most dangerous beings have been presented as attractive to the point of being irresistible - from Slavic mythological beings "so beautiful that it was only natural they were evil" to Biblical demons "so beautiful to tempt you", to Oscar Wilde's Dorian Gray "so beautiful, oh, the horrors he must have done to achieve it". It is sex appeal through fear, through inhumanity.

And if, to you, sex appeal is less human, but more benevolent? Perhaps, sex appeal lies in animal features mixing with human. Mika has that, too.

Of course, when talking about Mika's appeal, one must also mention his defining feature, the very thing that sets him apart from the rest of the cast. As Keito Hasumi said when evaluating ex-Valkyrie, Mika's eyes are his defining feature.

His mismatched eyes pull people in, his visual charm lies in these eyes. But it's not just the heterochromia, although it is undeniably a core part of his design, it is their shape. Mika's face is designed to be sharp, and this includes his eyes. This is, of course, to contrast Shu's softer features. This is symbolic. These symbols, too, are sexy.

Not quite a Madonna-Whore complex, but Valkyrie is based on this opposition. Where Shu is soft, Mika is sharp. Where Shu represents the virginal goddess Astraea, Mika represents the base, the carnal, the filthy.

The sex appeal.

Furthermore, in the very story "Astraea's Atelier", this is corroborated, as Leo mentions that Mika's very art leans into the erotic. He knows what he is doing.

Beyond Mika's eyes, we must mention his other defining feature. Not as unique as his eyes, but important all the same - his singular fang that pops out at random.

Although as seen above, all four of his canines are emphasised, it is most often that only one is actually shown in cards and in the 3D models. This is, of course, charming, an almost teasing peak into his physiognomy, a hint to the fact that he could, should he wish, tear your flesh apart with his teeth. This, too, is sex appeal.

A natural progression from looking at his teeth is to look at his tongue. Though the common "blep" is certainly cuter than sexy, and Mika has plenty such cards, there is much to say about the way in which he sticks out his tongue in these, as if provoking, teasing. This is not just a playful or mocking gesture, and he knows as much.

Finally, what else can "sexy" be? Must it be tied to appearance only? Or does it go deeper than that? Is "sexy" not also the way a man carries himself? Is it not also his skills, his hobbies, his very personality? Is "sexy" not the sum of a man, but merely one trait, tied only to the visual senses? Is Mika not sexy in the way that he dances, spins and twirls, skilfully and gracefully? Is he not sexy in the way that he shows his intelligence in the weirdest ways, was he not sexy for reading the Mabinogion in Middle English? Is he not sexy for getting over his own shyness when it comes to speaking on television and radio shows because of Shu's own shyness? Is he not sexy for the fact that he collects creepy and scary posters to help him sleep better? Is he not sexy for the fact that he dumpsterdives, finds plushies, fixes and names them? Is he not sexy for being a weird little freak who likes eroguro and is suspiciously fine with murder and violence? Is Mika Kagehira not sexy?

Mika's sex appeal also lies in one very important aspect of his character, one very dear to me, and that's why I saved it for last. Mika speaks in a non-standard dialect, and his production is thickly accented. I have already ranted about the way this aspect subverts many tropes related to characters with audible "hick" accents, but this is not about design and tropes, this about sex appeal. Can you really listen to Mika speak, the way he sometimes slurs his words and speaks through a pout, the way his words blend and the way his production is impacted by his dialect, and say that this is not sexy? There is nothing sexier than a non-standard production. A vote for Mika is a vote against prescriptivism and linguistic chauvinism. Vote Mika. For your local linguist MikaP (me).

To sum up, while Mika very well could be described as "cute", this does not negate the fact that he can also be described as "sexy". Whether looking at it from a strictly visual point or looking at Mika as a whole character, he undeniably has a certain sex appeal to him. Present in all aspects of his character, from his sharp facial features, to his personal and Valkyrie-adjacent style, to the way he speaks, behaves and interacts with the world. "Sexy" is not a word with only one definition, nor is it a word limited in its usage, "sexy" is a word that merely aims to describe a person with sex appeal, who appeals to people, who draws people in, and it is my scholarly and educated opinion that Mika, in fact, carries these traits in his characterisation, no matter the fact that his sex appeal is interwoven and mingles with his cuteness. Mika is a character based on contrast and opposition, between his apparent harmlessness and freakish tendencies, between his soft-spoken and shy nature and his love for horror and gore. It is not, then, unusual to notice the contrast between his cute moments, his appearance made to appeal to the side of our brains that squeals at the sight of a kitten who can't do much on its own, and his moments brimming with eros, the sex appeal that lay dormant underneath his surface. Indeed, in a way, his sex appeal being a thing to be discovered only further emphasises his sexiness.

Further reading:

#i promise i'm not actually this weird about Mika #ensemble stars #enstars-sexyperson-polls #poll propaganda #mika kagehira #mishka🍬 #enstars

[sexlapis]

autumns with toji

♡ : toji x gn! reader

. contents : headcanons, profanity, fluff, halloween, petnames, soft toji!

.. how you & toji spend the autumn together

… a/n : this is not proofread i just wanted to babble abt autumn toji ♡

masterlists

toji takes you on peaceful walks in the forest. the trees are just so beautiful & vibrant & you love it very much!

toji takes pictures of you when you’re in the as well, you just look so happy in nature. he keeps the pictures to admire them later on.

and toji just looks so hot in autumn…his wardrobe consists of red & green flannels, turtlenecks, woolly denim & suede jackets, timberland boots, black beanies…& his hair has grown out slightly all the way down to his chin…n he has visible stubble…he’s so father fr…anyway.

you both go lead hunting for all the possible colours of leaves

you like to collect conkers & pine cones. you give them to toji & he gladly accepts accepts them, putting them all in a box for safekeeping

toji loves camping. so he makes a lil camp in yalls big backyard with a fire and everything. you’re both cuddled around the fire pit making s’mores. toji looks at you with heart eyes because you’re just so damn precious, wearing one of his red flannels & looking so cute and he just gives you kisses🥺

afterwards you both go inside. toji makes you both some tea and he puts on a movie in the big projector you have in your shared room (the movie is fantastic mr fox ♡) & you both cuddle as you watch it. you obviously fall asleep halfway through. toji’s heart beats out of chest at the sight & he turns the movie off before falling asleep himself.

after seeing a hedgehog in the garden, you wanted to build it a house. toji being the handyman he is obviously helped you build it! (and by helped i mean he built the entire thing & you just watched him because 1. you didn’t know what you were doing & 2. toji looks sexy when he builds things). when finished you put the house outside in the garden, with hedgehog food.

you check on the house everyday until you finally see the little, cute hedgehog in the house. you nearly squeal as you run to tell toji & drag him outside. now you’re both just crouched on the ground looks at the adorable hedgehog. toji admits its a cute kinda ugly thing.

your dumbass tries to touch it and you end up hurting yourself & almost scaring the poor hedgehog away. toji flicks your head for being stupid (but checks if your injured anyway)

you both find the best cafes in your city & simply buy pastries & relax at the cafes for hours on end.

you both go apple picking annually every autumn. you try & get the best ones! toji is there to pick the apples from branches higher up where you can’t reach & give them to you. you make the sweetest apple pie together with them along with homemade ice cream

you both go to a pumpkin patch to pick out the best pumpkin for halloween. toji does not give a shit about the holiday & is only doing it because he loves you

you: “toji which one should we get? this one or that one” toji: “???kid, they’re all the fuckin’ same?”

you end up getting 5 pumpkins

you ask toji to carve a pumpkin & he is surprisingly talented in the art department? he carves out your favourite animated characters and it’s literally amazing while your pumpkin just has two squares for eyes and barely a mouth.

toji reassured you & tells you that your pumpkin is absolutely lovely (it’s not it’s really shit but he think it’s cute how bad you are at carving a pumpkin+ the way you beam at his praise makes him happy)

you both give out candy for the trick or treaters & you get many compliments on toji’s amazing pumpkins! (toji claims it’s your pumpkin that everyone likes)

you ask toji to dress up for halloween & he reluctantly gives in.

you dress up as a cute witch & he, being the menace he is, dresses up as jason vooheres to scare the trick or treaters

he laughs at the kids when they get scared 💀

but toji isn’t an evil man so he takes off his mask to not be so scary & smiles softly kids trick or treating ♡ the sight makes you melt

pls i love autumn toji sm..!!

#toji x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #fushiguro toji fluff #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji x you #toji fushiguro imagine #toji headcanons #toji fushiguro headcanons #toji imagine #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x gender neutral reader #toji x gn!reader

[submissiveking99]

AVENGERS

Black Widow (Heroine/Assassin)

Natasha, the Black Widow. Famous super spy who can use every weapon known to man, as well as her body, to fuffil her mission

Wasp/ Janet Van Dhyn (Heroine)

Janet, the Wasp, is one of Marvel's main heroes. Not that you would know that, of course, with how she has treated. A spunky and energetic fashion designer, with the confidence to back up the fact she has lead the Avengers once or twice.

Rescue/ Iron Woman/ Pepper Potts (Heroine)

Pepper Potts, Tony's long time assistant. Current CEO of Stark... was it Stark International, Stark Enterprises or Stark Tech Limited this month? The company had been disbanded and reformed so much just the different itterations of the company could fill multiple pages of her resume by themselves.

Using the latest Rescue Armour, Pepper has been busy dealing with Tony's messes.

Captain Carter/ Captain Britian/ Peggy Carter (Heroine)

Captain Peggy Carter. In her world she was given the Super Soldier Serum, and ended up in the future.

A serious but much more relaxed hero than Steve Roggers was, but just as compassionate.

Madame Hydra/ Viper (Villainess)

One of the generals of HYDRA, and ocasionally their leader. Sensual but dark, sadistic and evil. An honest to god sadist dommy mummy who wishes to rule the entire world.

Carol Danvers/ Ms Marvel (Heroine)

Carol Danvers was a piolet for the US military. When she was struck by some energy, her cells where mixed with the cosmic hero Captain Marvel and she became a half-kree/half-human hybrid with immense power.

She-Hulk (Heroine)

Jeniffer Walters is the cousin to the one and only Green Giant, the Hulk. Given a blood transfusion to save her life, the gamma infused blood gave Jen a Hulk form of her own. But without the psycological issues her cousin has, she is able to shift between the states at will with anger being a near zero problem with her. Jen prefers to be in her Hulk form as it makes her feel more confident and sexy

Red She-Hulk/ Elizabeth 'Betty' Ross (slash Banner) (Anti-Heroine at worst)

Betty Ross is the Red She-Hulk. Love intrest of Bruce Banner, daughter of General Thaddeus Ross, she has a lot of history with the Gamma situations.

Betty is a physical powerhouse like any and every Hulk, but her spit and blood is also acidic while she can absorb and redirect some level of energy blasted at her.

Black Panther/ Shuri of Wakanda (Heroine)

Shuri is the princess of Wakanda and a computer genius, using an artifical means to copy the abilities the Heart Shaped Herb gave her brother in order to defend Wakanda

Thor/ Lady Thor/ Jane Foster (Heroine)

Jane Foster was dying of cancer when the Hammer of Thor, Mjolnir, came to her. Thor, at the time, being unworthy. Taking the weapon in hand, Jane was worthy and so she gained the powers of her old lover. Ready to defend the realms

Lady Loki (Villainess/Anti-Heroine/Neutral)

The goddess of mischief and stories, who's alliance shifts based off her amusement and her current goals. A powerful mage and confident woman.

Amora the Enchantress (Villainess)

Enchantress is an Asgardian, the goddess of love. Her magic is some of the strongest in all of Asgard. Her beauty and her magic make any bow at her feet begging for her attention

Hela (Villainess/Neutral)

Loki's daughter and the goddess of death, a very sensual woman who wishes to expand her armies to protect her kingdom

Elektra/ Elektra Natchios (Anti-Heroine)

Elektra is of Greek descent and was trained in martial arts almost all her life.

Eventually being taken in and brainwashed by the organisation known as The Hand after she died, Elektra has had an interesting rollarcoaster of a life

White Tiger/ Ava Ayala (Heroine)

Ava gets her powers from the White Tiger Amulet she wears, a family heirloom passed through her family. A brilliant mind mixed with the powers of a savage beast

Squirrel Girl/ Doreen Green (Heroine)

Squirrel Girl is a bit of a joker character. A fun, confident girl... who's powers are that she can talk to squirrels and some slight super strength.

...

And yet she can take out the likes of Thanos. By herself. Without any effort.

Sue Storm/ Invisible Woman (Heroine)

Sue Storm is one of Marvel's leading ladies. One of the core members of the Fantastic Four, Susan Storm gained her powers when herself and the other members of the team as they where hit by cosmic rays, changed forever in some most fantastic ways.

Jessica Jones (Heroine/Private Detective)

Jessica Jones went to the same High School as Peter Parker and had a crush on him. She gained super strength and the ability to fly. She tried to be a hero called Jewel.

....

And then came the Purple Man.

And years of trauma

Jessica is now a serious detective who tries to stay away from all the cape crap. Just trying to make way in this crazy, crazy world.

Nebula (Anti-Heroine/Villainess)

The alleged Grand-Daughter of Thanos. Nebula is a scourge to the galaxy trying to prove herself to/outdo the Mad Titan no matter who, or what, is in her way

Gamora (Heroine/Anti-Heroine)

Adopted daughter of Thanos the Mad Titan, and the most deadly woman in the entire Galaxy. Gamora is a warrior in all meaning of the word.

Total Muses: 18

#open smut rp #open to all #open rp #marvel #read rules before interacting #marvel rp #comic rp #avengers rp

[nikosamaki]

Part1: What’s your reaction when you see them getting changed? In their normal body, not in their Demon form

{Time for getting a bit naughty 😉…. Or MORE!}

Part 2

Lucifer:

Bloody Hell! He’s tooooooo much HANDSOME for these worlds –his MUSCLES are gorgeous! You just want to bite them…*Evil laugh* (I don’t guarantee that you’ll be alive after that). But you can see some wounds on him –one pair of them are on his back and they’re associated to when he lost his wings in The War… (Always when you see them, your heart aches and say: ”That was cruel”) and the others are trivial against those- but they don’t matter for him, anymore (That’s not true… If you remember he NEVER let his skin to be showed, even when he wears SWIMSUIT :/// So, he doesn’t like to everyone see them –but baby, you’re special; because you ARE SEEING them, NOW!!)

His skin is a little bit pale –A BIT… Ok? I don’t mean like Sebastian from Black Butler. I meant his skin is lighter than normal.

Mammon:

Man…You cannot stop watching his body, FASCINATING! –of course he IS, because he’s a SUPER MODEL (Didn’t expect that?)- but he’s a bit skinny -with muscles but not that much muscular like Lucifer and Beel. Also he has some wounds –like Lucifer, but not that much enormous- on his abs, back and shoulders –related to The War. In addition, he really doesn’t CARE about them; actually I guess he proud of them (Don’t know why it feels like this)

As you saw, he has tanned skin –the only brother who is tanned.

Levi:

I know you don’t believe he has SIX PACKS, because he’s an otaku or a couch potato (I REALLY didn’t mean anything 🙏🏻); but GOD DAMN him… Just imagine he’s lying in his bath and you… Dammnnnnnnnnnnn, Why am I thinking about it??? (I just leave it to your BEAUTIFUL & WILD imaginations). Just like Mam and Luci (I got tired to write their full names), has wounds but not on his shoulders.

His skin is normal –eggnog color (I don’t know what we call it🤣)

Satan:

Just MEOWwwwwwwwwwww….

Ugh. I don’t have anything to say for Satan –he’s like Levi or more muscular-; just he doesn’t have ANY WOUND on his body –you know why, right? (If you need explanation, just comment and I’ll explain in the next post)- but he has some scratches on his hands, because of CATS.

Also his skin is same as Levi – only Luci and Mam have different skins.

Asmo:

Well, first of all; he is NOT muscular at all and doesn’t have six packs

(I know he has it in the ANIME, but having six packs does NOT suit him :/ Don’t kill me😅) –he’s well built -but not in muscularity way. He has very small wounds on his arms but aren’t much visible ���he took a lot care of them to make them disappear.

His skin is very shiny and is normal.

Beel:

Oh GOD… Ohhhh MAN, he’s too much fucking HOT and MUSCULAR –even more than Luci!! He does a lot of exercises every single day. Just look at his ARMS, ABS and PASS OUT! (He IS NOT for this world)– you just wish to hug him and sink into his arms or…(Your imaginations, BABY… I can see you have VERY NAUGHTY thoughts 😈). About wounds, he has a lot on his body –like Luci-, because he was –and is- the strongest one and always in wars to help others (He was like a SHIELD for them… That’s SAD)

He has the same skin just like the others –except Luci and Mam.

Belphe:

About his body condition, he’s like Asmo but more muscular –something like Satan but less than him- and unlike Asmo, he maybe do more exercises – thanks to Beel (But dear, don’t expect a lot from him. After all, he’s avatar of SLOTH).

His skin is as same as Beel.

Diavolo:

Well… I have NOTHING to say! I said everything above and there are similar in most of subjects :/

He’s like Beel but I guess stronger more than him!!! –imagine a BIG MONSTER. (But don’t forget that Dia, Luci and Beel are BIG guys among them… Which it means SEXY THOUGHTS *Too much Evil laugh* -I HAVE DIRTY mind, …

Barbatos:

His body is stronger than Satan and less than Luci. Don’t worry, he HAS six packs and muscular body –he’s the butler of the future king, so he must have that body. Unfortunately he doesn’t show his GORGEOUS ABS or more… That’s so MEAN of him.

His skin is like Levi and Luci –but not as same as Luci, a bit darker.

This life is too much CRUEL and UNFAIR, because they all are SEXY, GORGEOUS and I can't touch them or.....

I JUST WANT TO DIE

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me smut #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me x belphegor x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me brothers #obey me lucifer smut #obey me mammon smut #obey me levi smut #obey me satan smut #obey me asmo smut #obey me beel smut

[scribble-dee-vee]

Happy STS! Which of your characters do you think would be most popular among cosplayers? If you had to pick one of your OCs to cosplay, who would it be?

Oh heck yea! Thanks for the ask; I lowkey forgot that STS was a thing

So, I loooove cosplay as an art form/means of having fun! I used to do it more when I was younger, and I still dress up for cons/fan themed events. I also follow a lot of cosplay content online. I must admit that I think about the cosplay-ability of my characters a LOT. Like, every author wants a screen adaptation/a fully VA'd audiobook/whatever, but I specifically want silly creative ppl on the internet to dress up as my lads!!

That being said, I have many opinions on this front.

Taking a broad look at the Heart of Lead universe, I think it would offer a lot of different options to cosplayers. I could see the extended cast catering to people of all skill levels and interests, at least in terms of character design. You got regular-ass humans with one or two defining physical traits (although someone could always go in for more detail, because of the Victorian-fantasy clothes)! You also got characters with A.) complicated armor/uniforms/gowns, B.) wings/fangs/assorted fantastical traits, and C.) like,,, props?? Like there is a very large, somewhat evil sentient sword in this universe, and I would die happy if someone made their own for cosplay purposes. I would DIE.

All that in mind, here are the characters I think would be the most popular to cosplay, based on my observations of present-day cosplay communities online. I've given all them "most ___" awards, for funsies.

Dale Porter – most popular. No contest whatsoever. Sarcastic, evil, conventionally attractive white man. People love to cosplay characters with this profile; it's inescapable, and somewhat obnoxious. He's also fairly easy to cosplay, I would argue, as long as u got a white wig. (I would not personally cosplay him. He is my pookie but he can go ROT.)

Rosalind Lake – most sexy. If you want to wear an ostentatious dress and look hot in a femme way, here ya go. She's not the most important character, but her look is distinctive and fun. (I would definitely cosplay Rosalind.)

Wren Dorian – most steampunk. Listen, if you love steampunk/gaslamp fantasy/cabaret rock aesthetics, she is your GIRL. Big curly hair, big boots, massive belt full of tools, potentially goggles if you're feeling really fancy. Wren also gets some interesting design variations throughout the series that make her even cooler. (I would cosplay Wren. I have closet-cosplayed her before.)

Nicolas – most edgy. At least, that's how I think people would cosplay him. He wears a black trench coat and fingerless gloves for like half of the series; he has emo boy hair; he lowkey looks like Dream of the Endless. I'm not going to spoil his magical abilities, which make him EVEN EDGIER, but those exist, and they also impact his physical appearance. He's a sweetie boy baby who cries a whole lot, but he LOOKS very cool to one's inner 13-year-old. (I would cosplay Nicolas, and I have closet-cosplayed him before!)

Vesper – most fantasy. They're a faerie. He has wings. Their magic turns their eyes and fingers black. He wears sickass gender-nonconforming outfits, including such articles as capes and tiaras. If I was actually going to pour tens of hours into creating a cosplay from the HoL universe, I would 100% cosplay Vesper. They look cool as hell. (Also, fun personality – he's very outgoing and sweet!)

I'll leave it there for now, but I genuinely have SO many more opinions about HoL cosplay potentiality. There are options for the ppl who only cosplay evil dilfs,,,, for ppl who like to play princess dress-up,,,,, for ppl who incorporate gore and horror elements into their cosplays,,,,, we've got it all!!

(Now to get about FINISHING and PUBLISHING these books, so ppl can feasibly do this. Lmao.)

#writeblr #writing #veespeaks #my ocs #cosplay #sts #thanks for the ask! #this was so fun #reminding myself to send STS asks to the moots next weekend #I'm glad this is still a thing ppl do

[funnywormz]

top 10 lobby boy looks please and thank you rate this man like he's in an issue of cosmo and we're ripping him asunder

this was a toughie bc idk anything abt fashion and his outfits aren't described in as much detail as the manager but i still had fun!! decided to only use publicly accessible canon episodes for this (no bonus eps, nothing patreon exclusive) hehe. also let me reiterate once more that i have the worst fashion sense in the entire world

NUMBER 10: 4.10 - audrey burns

awesome episode but this fit sounds boring as hell. it doesn't sound BAD but just...... boring.......... doesn't even have a hat. sad

NUMBER 9: 4.1 - perry sherwin

he doesn't like it and i don't either. white is definitely not the best colour to be wearing when you're employed at a slimy gross murder hotel lol. maybe it looked kinda cool but thinking abt him trying to get the stains out makes me a little sad. also plain white is kinda boring imo....... although it could look cool in a kind of stark way i suppose

NUMBER 8: 4.17 - debbie houston

putting this one low on the list bc it's uncomfortable for him and he didn't like it which is sad. but it's at number 8 not lower bc i instinctively know he was serving cunt here. like i know he looked kinda sexy in it. but he doesn't like it and comfort should always come before fashion imho, hence its low spot on the list. also he didn't even get to wear it out of the closet.......

NUMBER 7: 4.16 - alex potenski

made the manager cringe but i think it sounds kinda cute in an ugly way. like he could wear this to a barbecue or to the beach or something. i like it when madam hotel puts him in pink.........

NUMBER 6: 4.7 - dorothy rennup

it's giving librarian. it's giving tumblr history teacher aesthetic. unfortunately i have a weakness for that kind of outfit so i think it sounds cute. it also sounds comfortable and warm which is important! and the collared button up under a sweater look is always something i enjoy................

NUMBER 5: 4.3 - the habers

we never actually get this one properly described to us which is why it isn't higher on the list. based on the hotel taking on a 70s aesthetic in this episode and the fact that even THINKING about this made the manager cringe kinda fills me with joy bc i know it was ugly and campy as hell. in my heart i know he was so garish and awkward looking and sweaty in this episode and i love it.

NUMBER 4: 4.9 - mr platt

i think this sounds cute sorry miss manager. once again i like it when the hotel puts him in pink outfits. by "coral" im assuming it's a pink/peachy coral type of colour which i think would look cool in combination with black. tidy but a little bit ugly in a way that i enjoy greatly. idk exactly why i like this one as much as i do. but i do.

NUMBER 3: 5.2 - it watches and it smiles

LOVE THIS THANG! underrated episode imo. i love the way this episode combines ominous terror with like, pleasant night time tropical beach vibes. it's rlly good. the description of the lobby boy in this episode is also rlly good. something chunky and very low to the ground that can't move fast but has very very long grabby arms and bulging big eyes and an evil grin........ i love it. sounds very spooky. love it when he's at the window menacing the guy inside. it's easy to get a vague idea of this creature in my head but hard to pin it down to a specific design which i think is intentional, and i rlly like it. very shaped animal. sounds like he might look at little bit silly if you caught him in the daylight perhaps, although that isn't necessarily a bad thing

NUMBER 2: 2.2 - cracker man

sadly we don't get much of a description of cracker man but im putting him high up bc i think he is awesome. bones sticking out everywhere, joints and the wrong angles, all skinny and tall and bulging and swollen and creaking........ love it. i bet he looks so scary. the idea of the monster chasing you being all broken and sad and in pain itself is very compelling. also the body horror side to the cracker man where he's constantly creaking and snapping with every movement is so uncomfortable (in a good way). also as someone with very creaky and sometimes painful joints i can relate to him.

NUMBER 1: 4.5 - robert watson

maybe this sounds underwhelming but hear me out. HEAR ME OUT OK! this is one of the few episodes where the lobby boy is described as wearing the classic red lobby boy uniform, and it's extra shiny and fancy and pretty this time. i think he was physically at his peak of lobby-boy-ness here. the red outfit with the hat and shiny buttons is a classic and it's his most iconic look ever. most people in the fandom including me draw him this way. it might seem boring or generic bc it's so common but to me this outfit is just His Outfit. it's the lobby boy outfit. unbeatable imo. if he was a cartoon character and wore the same outfit every episode i just KNOW it would be this one. it's a classic. i will not be swayed on this.

#this took me a while but it was very fun #apologies if i got any episodes mixed up or put the wrong titles/numbers #the hotel #the hotel podcast #the lobby boy #anon ask #ask game

[fishy-xp]

my top five kinnporsche characters

this is just for fun! also let me know y'alls tooooooo

No.5 - Chan

he's competent and he's hot, i rest my case

No. 4 - Big/Ken

i mean they're technically the same person, just let me have this okay. i loved everytime these two were on screen. they are the mean girls, the bad bitches, the popular girls. everything about them, i love. also ken gave us the single greatest line in kinnporsche

No. 3 - Vegas

red is my favourite colour that's a lie. but come on, what's not to love? he's an evil pathetic little babygirl who keeps a hedgehog in the sex dungeon. he reads, he's a businessman, he can cook, he cares for his little brother but he's got the moral compass of a roulette wheel. he's a murderer, he's a sadist, he's a slut. HE RIDES A FUCKING MOTORCYCLE????? *chefs kiss*

No 2 - Macau

if this wasn't fucking obvious??? i am a slut for the sin city brothers and my entire tumblr is practically dedicated to this funky lil sweater man. i love him, i want nothing but the best for him. i hope he's happy, i hope he's well fed, i hope he never experiences sadness in his life. i love him. *holds gently*

Honorable Mentions

ep 1 + 2 feral gremlin porsche in his raccoon era (what's not to love?)

gameplay as porchay in this one scene - adorable (even though barcode did an amazing job, i keep thinking what could have been if gameplay played porchay hujgehrgujsetg)

filmania pete (the black uniform and the hairstyle, oh daddy) + pete's bar outfits (do you know how sexy you are?)

anytime timetay were the epitome of couple goals (and we ignore everything else, also jj chalach i'm look SO DISRESPECTFULLY BRO IS SO HOT AND I'M SO UNNORMAL ABOUT IT)

kinn during the cafe date <333

And No.1 is....Arm!

hahaaaaa is this a surprise? i feel like i'm a lot more vocal about macau but arm was was the first character i really latched onto. when he came in with the 'who's the nerd?', I HAVE NEVER GOTTEN ON MY KNEES SO FAST FOR A MAN I SWEAR- what's NOT to love? he's smart but does dumb ass shit, he's tech-savvy, he's super jacked, he's wears glasses, he's a foodie. he could be the next chan, but he's a lazy piece of shit that said oh hell naw to actual responsibilities and just watches series with khun all day because he can. he's loyal to a fault to his friends and i just know his dick is big on god

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #vegaspete #porsche pitchaya #pete phongsakorn #kinnporsche arm #kinnporsche pol #kp crack #porsche #kinnporche the series #kinnporche #kinnporsche chan #fishfoodforthought #kinn theerapanyakul #vegas theerapanyakul #macau theerapanyakul #tankhun theerapanyakul

[riverdale-retread]

Riverdale S7 E 18 (Chapter 135) For a Better Tomorrow!

Jughead Jones is definitely established as a weird weirdo in this universe, yes, but the way he is doing his relationship with Veronica Lodge is very funny.  He says, as a boy person at his indisputable sexual peak, that one of the “distinct advantages” of dating a movie theater owner (the very sexy teen witch cosplayer Veronica Lodge) is being able to score free movie tickets for his friends.  On the one hand, Jughead is a true one, because despite getting a cool girlfriend he just hangs out with all his old dorky friends - I like this. On the other hand, how in the heck is getting to make out with THE Veronica Lodge one of the UNDIFFERENTIATED OR INDEFINITE advantages in life?  Que???

The makers of this show are doing the most, I suppose, in order to check all the possible boxes for what Jughead Jones’ sexuality could be.  We had the yearning homosexual Jughead (Jarchie - not canon), the clueless lesbian coded Jughead (with Bret Weston Wallis), monogamous romantic prince (Bughead), slutty famewhore who sleeps with his groupies, toxic failboyfriend (with the evil drug dealer girlfriend).    We now get Wide Eyed 50s Teen Boyfriend Jughead in the Jeronica relationship, but also asexual Jughead who has no reaction whatsoever to two people sloppily making out next to him as he happily tosses popcorn down his throat, bracketing the central Ethel and Ben couple with the Emasculated-By-Racism- Big-Dick Dilton on either side.  All FOUR of them are the only people not making out at this movie theater for this screening.

Ethel.  Ethel! If you want to get action you can’t be taking TWO hangers on with you to the movies!?

In any case I’m glad to see that Veronica’s movie theater  business is doing very well despite the immense number of movie tickets she seems intent on giving away for free. Is this like a Helena Rubinstein/Estee Lauder way of doing business, where you give away product in order to keep customers?  But isn’t she the only theater in town?  Veronica Lodge is an improbable creature - an ethical monopolist??

Jughead and Ethel are happily chatting, smiling about the movie they just watched.  As Jughead says they’re about to walk into their very own “science fiction tinged B-movie.” The screen goes to black and white.  The B&W episode referencing Chinatown was great, so I have high hopes for this one.

Segment One!  Jughead Jones In The Mysterious Melting Man!

A man walks towards Jughead as bits of skin boil painfully off of his body and face.  Jughead seems to have the most curious frozen response to this. He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t try to get away and he doesn’t even look particularly upset, to be honest. He just looks merely interested.   He also doesn’t do anything to rush to that man’s aid.  But then again, if confronted with such a sight I’m not sure what I would do either. 

The horrendous police force consisting of the extremely incompetent Sheriff Keller shoots this man from behind, but actually he’s aiming his gun IN THE DIRECTION of a crowd of theater goers that have just left the cinema.  The Americans of this time (or maybe now) are so desensitized to gun violence that they don’t seem to clock that a) cops or anyone do not have a supremely high marksmakship rate especially of a moving target and b) the gun was pointed directly at each of them during this entire time.  They just watch a man get gunned down by cops on a Saturday evening right in front of them in the open town square and don’t scream or blink or duct.  They just look a bit inconvenienced.  

Keller claims later that the man was a) a vagrant (who can be shot on sight apparently) and b) suffering from leprosy which is why he looked like that.  Except, Jughead supplies immediately, that Ethel recognizes what the man was wearing because it’s the uniform of the Blossom maple factory. 

Jughead decides that all this is bullshit so he takes it upon himself to hunt down the answers.

DOCTOR CURDLE JUNIOR IS BAAAACK !

HI MY FAVORITE LITTLE TALL GIANT MAN!!

So, Dr. Curdle (not Jr!) is all about gruesome comics, which Jughead still has copies of when he nicked them from his employer, and is now dealing like they’re some sort of hard street drug.  

“Worthy of a quid. Pro. Quo.” God I love the way Dr. Curdle talks. 

Jughead responds, “keen-o!”  Which I quite like. I tend to say Okedoke in an effort to not be offensively autistic when people give me unnecessary boring bits of information at work, and I think I might add “keen-O” to my roster.  Jughead wants to know about the “mysterious melting man.”  He didn’t actually have to say all three words, but he was very happy to be alliterative so he couldn’t pass that up. 

The answer is “acute radiation poisoning!”

Sadly, Curdle didn’t get to have a lot of time with the body, but it was Mayor Blossom who came to collect the body. Curdle confirms that the man was in fact an employee of the maple factory.  “That stinks like a rotten fish!”

Bright and early the next day, Betty bounces down the stairs to ask if Ethel wants to go to school with her.  Hal suggests that Betty permit Alice to drive them both, but Betty is firm in her rejection.    The cold war between mother and daughter post-slap seems to be something that is giving Hal indigestion.  Further, Betty apparently will just not eat breakfast unless her mother will make it for her, and then to up the ante it seems as though Alice is still making breakfast for everyone in the household who isn’t Betty - inclusive of Ethel.  It’s getting very complicated.  Anyway, Alice tells Hal that at some point the weather will be terrible because they’re in upstate New York that isn’t America, and Betty will “finally let me give her a ride.”  Betty remains just as pleasant in her hatefulness when she informs Alice that she will not ever be needing that ride from her mother because she’s taking Driver’s Ed at school and pretty soon she will be able to drive herself wherever she wants!

This is Segment 2:  BETTY COOPER IN DRIVER’S EDUCATION!

We’re suddenly in black and white again. 

Oops except we’re not. 

We’re in the Andrews’ kitchen as Frank smugly informs Reggie that he got into a really great basketball camp.  He’s being very nasty to Mary’s son right in front of Mary first thing in the morning, sneering at him about how there is no camp for poetry, and so Archie is without a fun set of summer plans to look forward to.  His sneering is very heavy handed.  He even calls Archie ‘Shakespeare’ in the most condescending tone of voice. It brings out the CAN YOU SPELL IT in me.

Segment 3 is going to be ARCHIE ANDREWS IN SHIPPING OUT!

Everything is in black and white again.  Mary is for once not being completely useless, which I can’t tell if it happened in the technicolor real-life of this season or is possible because it’s not real, just the B Movie version, because I don’t know yet what these black and white transitions mean.  Mary as I say isnt completely useless, only merely mostly useless.  She says that Archie can pick up a summer shift or two at Pop’s or come help his mother out at the dress shop. 

Frank doesn’t even respect Mary enough to look at her as he sneers about HER BUSINESS which is what he must have been LIVING OFF OF when he first moved to Riverdale with no job. What the fuck, Frank.  He brings all his patented boring ass toxic masculinity to the fore - oooh yer gonna be workin’ at your mom’s *dress* shoppe~~  I mean. You get to interact with all the pretty girls in their super tight body-con dresses at the dress shop.  What’s your problem?

Archie looks angry as he stomps off.

We switch to the Blossom household, where Julian is willing to give Cheryl a ride to school. He’s a dickhead though, because she’s walking RIGHT NEXT to him, clearly ready to go, and he’s still gotta voice the threat about how his “train is leaving with or without you.”  Hon, your schlong isn’t that big.  

On a brighter note, I do like how much white Cheryl has been wearing with her red ensembles.  I love the cherries on her shirt.  They both see a military someone salute their father. They smirk at each other about his ridiculous it is to see someone give Clifford Blossom a salute of any kind.  Julian wants to know if he’s enlisting.  Clifford hates both his children equally, apparently, because he calls them “asinine” and then says that this was a General Taylor from Washington who was “delivering unto me a gift.”  Then he brings them into his study to show them a cock-less Baphomet, whom he calls Moloch.  Seriously. Moloch is not hiding anything under that skirt. He has Barbie Genitals, you know he has.  Anyway, Clifford makes ridiculous statements about how this ancient deity can only be appeased by child sacrifice, and tells his very physically mature children that they should be frightened, implying he’d kill either or both of them “should you be inclined to give me any more grief.”

A pompous father who can’t take any sort of joke about himself so that he always responds to anything that isn’t flattery and obsequiousness with threats of violence?   Oh hey that was on my Riverdale is my life Bingo!

This is Segment Four!  CHERYL BLOSSOM IN PROJECT MOLOCH!

At school, Jughead approaches Ethel in the black and white world.  Jughead asks if Ethel’s father ever got sick.  She says he was a janitor at the maple factory, who had joint pain, stomach pain, and hair loss, all in a chronic way.  Far away, Dilton hears this list of symptoms. He looks very disturbed immediately.  Jughead thinks that the Blossoms are hiding something, because Ethel’s dad, the melting man and Brad Rayberry all being former workers at the maple factory dying very strange deaths is not a coincidence.  He wants to get everyone closure about what happened.  

Ethel shakes her head.  She wants to move on with her life.  She’s going to get her driver’s license, she is about to get the car from her Miss Teen Queen win (it’s still not clear to me if the prizes were OR or AND but I hope it was AND so she can get the car AND the scholarship AND the screen test).  She tells Jughead that she is also going steady with Ben, to which Jughead says “our Ben?” and doesn’t believe her.  He turns around to stare at Ben.

Why is this surprising to Jughead in a world where he’s going steady with Veronica Lodge EVEN AFTER the milk screeching incident and all the other weirdnesses of before?  

Ethel is trying not to be annoyed at this reaction of Jughead, so she just sums up, to say she is trying to put the bad events behind her, so he should take of. 

The teacher starts showing them a scary movie about what happens to people in an atomic blast. Some of this looks like it’s real period product.  All the students are freaking out together in the lounge  about the atomic explosion.  

Jughead is seated holding court at the big armchair, which is really weird because why is Cheryl permitting this?  That used to be HER seat?  

Oh because this is the B&W B movie universe of Jughead Jones in The Mysterious Melting Man.  Veronica is wearing her not great napkin=bikini ribbon floof dress again, perched like a good little housewife on the arm of the chair that Jughead is sitting in like a king which -=VERONICA WOULD NOT.  Behind them, in a weird echo, are Ben and Ethel,  leaning their butts against a table as they stand. 

Jughead states the obvious, that “in truth, most of us wouldn’t likely survive an atomic explosion.”

Archie has never heard of Japan, Nagasaki or Hiroshima. He did not understand that the atomic bomb would kill him. He wants Jughead to spell it out.  Veronica says that there is an underground CITY levels of basements at the Pembroke.  She invites Juggykins to come with her.  Jughead doesn’t seem to feel any better, but Cheryl is outright disgusted at this display of heterosexuality from Veronica Lodge.  The thing is, she also has a place to go in case the bomb hits - she thinks.  She’s going to go to the mines which have “stood strong since before the Revolutionary War.”  

I can’t remember anything anymore but wan’t there a caving in of those very same mines in S6, some half century after this conversation, in the other universe?  It doesn’t immediately occur to her to invite Toni, so Toni prompts her. (Oh and I forgot they are not out).

Reggie is going to go to Duck Creek to climb into the mines.   Archie is going to drive all the way to California (he’s very California fixated in this universe) while trusting that the Rockies will serve as a general kind of radiation shelter.  Ethel says wistfully that out west does sound nice, to which Ben agrees.

I don’t think any of the characters, nor the people making this, realize how very funny this is.  This is the most ridiculous display of  the American delusions of both exceptionalism and extreme individualism.  When something bad happens, they refuse to imagine a possibility that they will come up with a community solution because they don’t want to include certain people in that community (be it Catholics, Protestants, Mormons, Italians, Swedes, Germans, Asians of any stripe, or black people etc etc).  People coexist in America, apparently but they don’t live together.  This is funny especially because in Korea everyone assumes that if we get nuked by the evil fat boy up North (each generation has gotten one of its own for three generations) we all die, and then those that don’t die will have to suffer and rebuild, because we had something akin to a nuke level disaster happen in 1950 and that’s what we did.  We don’t coexist very well among ourselves (the viciousness of our press makes Fox vs CNN battles look trifling) but we do actually live together. 

The heartlessness of these announcements by these people in front of their friends, and the extremely calm, almost non-reactive responses to the heartlessness makes everybody sound psychotic.  They all say, more or less, I hope I don’t die, and I don’t care about what happens to any of you.

The surreal Americanness of this matches the cop pointing his gun in the general direction of children in the hopes of hitting the one person he wants to shoot dead in the street.

Anyway, Clay gets especially annoyed at Archie wanting to drive away from the imaginary nuke.  The fact that those who have means are only creating solitary survival plans doesn’t bother him at all, even though those plans seem just as silly to me as driving away from a bomb. 

Kevin takes the conversation to surreal heights by saying that the inside of a refrigerator is going to be a good bet to not die in a nuclear blast. Immediately, Toni and then Betty point out how dumb this is.   (“What would you do about food and water?”)  Kevin though has a funny enough answer that lightens the mood - “I’d be inside a refrigerator.”  

Fangs actually saves the day (what the heck?) by saying he doesn’t want to plan to hide from anything.  Clay mentions that there are communities in Nevada that have built nuclear bomb shelters, a “lead lined bunker,” in case of a nuclear war.  Betty tries to see if the small town she so wanted to burn to the ground last episode might have some redeeming qualities after all: Maybe it’s too insignificant to be the target of a bomb like that.   Jughead thinks that “an atomic drop could drop anywhere, even here, in Riverdale.”

Well yeah.

Later on, the gay boyfriends are trying to tie a sailor’s knot.   Because Frank was so heterosexually ugly to him that morning, Archie is wanting to hang out with the gays.  He shows them how to tie the knot, saying all this stuff about a rabbit and a tree and a hole.  Archie asks them why they want to tie knots, after he drops his competent one on the table.  They say that they want to join the Merchant Marines, which is not part of the US Navy but is instead a civilian job, where you are on merchant boats I guess and “travel around the world.”  Clay starts to recruit Archie to the Merchant Marines.

OK so Clay has a thing about white boys, I guess?  He spent a lot of the past couple episodes trying to ease Archie into the idea that fucking men didn’t mean you had to stop wanting to fuck women, for one, and also that fucking around in general is really great for writing material.  I am not at all sure about that but OK.  He drops the names Ginsberg and Kerouac as having both “done time on the Seven Seas.”   Too bad he doesn’t know Archie likes to jump into the (ahem) deep end so he lost his virginity on the same night that he also had a threesome and prostituted a woman plus he developed a taste for middle aged woman. 

Archie is very susceptible to specific, easy to understand suggestions, and is like this in every universe.  Recruiting pamphlets are designed for people like Archie Andrews to get themselves into trouble.  His priorities are first, to get away from Uncle fucking Frank, second, See The World, third, Have Adventures, fourth, enrich his writing, and uh finally, tie a lot of knots.  The recruiter is coming tomorrow.

Grundy is the driver’s ed teacher.  For some reason the driver’s ed class is fully gender segregated.  Why is this? Is this something to do with the laws?  I really like the cool desktop dashboard these girls all have. I want one of these just to have it.  They’re going to practice parallel parking tomorrow!  Grundy seems like a good teacher. 

At dinner, the three men including Frank are eating the food that I assume that Mary cooked. She is trying to make conversation within the very surreal seating arrangement.  She and Uncle Fucking Frank sit across from each other like they’re a married couple, with Reggie and Archie occupying the sides.  She wants to know if anything interesting happened at school.  Reggie  tells her that they were shown a video of what happens if you get nuked.  ARchie says he wants to join the merchant marines.  She wants him to finish high school. She also wants him to go to college. 

Frank is still on his Must Make Archie Stop Writing Grief Poetry About His Father bender, so he says that the merchant marines might be better than going to college to learn poetry writing like some sort of man who  has sex with other men. He doesn’t say this last part, of course.  Reggie searches Archie for his reaction.  Archie though does have a spine.  He tells Frank directly that he is considering going out to see expressly so he can pursue his poetry better.  He even name drops The Beats.  Then he actually takes a jab:

YOU WOULD KNOW THAT IF YOU EVER CRACKED OPEN A BOOK.

Well OKAY Archie Andrews!  Unleash that bitchiness!  Feeling bitchy makes you smarter! Embrace it!

Frank is not amused at having the tables turned on him, and yet again, Mary is not as useless as she used to be (but this is a fiction within a fiction, because in-universe actual Mary really is quite useless - case in point, FRANK STILL LIVES THERE).  Mary interrupts what’s clearly an attack that Frank is scrambling to put together against her son by saying, “No one is joining anything tonight.”

Meanwhile, Dilton has come to visit Jughead.  “You don’t have to worry Jughead.  [blah blah] If anything bad were to actually happen I’d take care of you. You’d be safe.”

This is as clear a declaration of love as I’ve ever heard anyone make in Riverdale short of Jughead’s I Love You Betty Cooper all the way back in Season 1.  But Jughead, in the same way that he did not pick up that he should date Ethel Muggs, doesn’t understand what Dilton is saying as a love confession.  Poor Dilton. 

Instead, Jughead wants to know what the hell Dilton means by “keep him safe.” 

Dilton takes Jughead Jones to THE BUNKER!

Hi Bunker, my old friend!

Jughead sounds like James Stewart from Mr. Smith Goes To Washington as he exclaims, “How does your family have a bunker!?!”  He sounds like he should be married to Katherine Hepburn in a movie.  He sounds like this a lot this season and I thoroughly enjoy it.  The tribute to Stars of Old is at the level of Josie McCoy being rendered an Eartha Kitt tribute character last episode, but much more subtle  and baked into the general character portrayal for this season. 

Anyway, Dilton is very proud of his dad. He grins like a little kid, excited because Jughead is excited, as he tells him that “we’re deep enough to survive an atomic blast, and any radiation after the blast.”

Jughead wants to know why the science teacher built this at all.  “What does your dad know that we don’t?” 

Dilton starts to unpack all the secrets, literally from his bag.  He hands a little chunk of palladium to Jughead from his knapsack, saying Mr. Muggs came to get this assessed by the elder Doiley saying that Clifford Blossom was doing something with palladium.  “Worth killing for?” asks Jughead.

Apparently, in its purest state, palladium could be “more volatile than plutonium,.... and more destructive than a hydrogen bomb.” 

Palladium is a highly useful narrative tool, that’s for sure. 

Jughead says reminds him of something, and then he is madly digging through his collection of comics.  Jughead seems to have a photographic memory of every comic he’s ever read. Not sure this talent will ever get him any money, but it is a talent.  The story he was thinking of was written by Rayberry, called The Palladium Incident!  “Had he seen or heard something while he worked there??

We cut to the science teacher bursting in to make the announcement, in a hysterical scream of unhelpfulness, about “This is the big one.”  In response, all the children in the class start freaking out too.  The only one with a slow response time is Jughead Jones.  Everyone else is hollering, on their feet, moving around, flapping their arms.  Jughead acts like he’s sleep walking.  Cheryl is the one that goes running to get him to some sort of safety. She is shouting at him to “Get away from the!!!” as he walks, fascinated, to the window which is getting brighter and brighter.  As the bomb explodes, Jughead still has this very ‘interested’ look on his face from when he was looking at the melting man get shot in the street.

This turns out to be a nightmare of Cheryl’s.  She had a dream about trying to save Jughead Jones when the bomb hit. I’m very moved, actually.  She curses his name before she goes to fetch herself some water.

On her way back to her room, she hears her parents having a discussion. IN RUSSIAN.  Clifford says that things are in readiness (apparently -  I really have no idea, and I have my suspicions about American/Canadian actors’ capacity to speak passable Russian) to which Penelope says that it’s unfortunate what happened to the man, but Clifford is fine with the state of Project Moloch.  Then they are going to return to the motherland.

Cheryl Blossom speaks … Russian?  She is understanding this? Clifford apparently has been promised something by the Soviets.  Penelope is a Russian spy!  Cheryl runs away.

At the recruitment presentation by the Merchant Marines, Archie wants to know if he gets to explore the places they can visit.  The answer he gets is very unkind - “This isn’t a pleasure cruise” plus “no one here is guaranteed a spot.”  Well, ok sir, but I thought the point of your visit was to RECRUIT.

In the hallway, Jughead is approaching Cheryl.  He actually does a little sing-songy “Hi Ho~~” which is very cute and again for some reason reminds me of Jimmy Stewart though I’m sure he’s never done that.  Who knows.  Cheryl is very annoyed to be approached by Jughead, which is not improved when he opens bluntly with this question:  Has anything weird been happening at your house lately?

He really doesn’t know what a can of worms he’s opened.   Cheryl is making a face at him like, oh you sweet clueless child, you have no idea what you’re about to unleash. What she says is, “Why do you care?”   Jughead says that he’s interested in the location of the mines she mentioned yesterday vis a vis the maple factor.  Cheryl confirms that the factory is built right on top of the mines.  Jughead says, going straight to the point, “I think you father is up to no good,” and then without even taking a break to let that settle in her mind he jumps right to accusation: “I think he is involved in the Milkman murders.”  Then he adds  the mines are palladium mines, plus not abandoned. 

This is a method that Jughead is pretty consistent about throughout the seasons - he gets a set of facts, intuits something, gets a clue or a hint that he might be on the right track, and then goes directly to the source to launch accusations.  The thing is, it WORKS this time because he went to Cheryl and not to Clifford Blossom, and even if she doesn’t like Jeronica, Cheryl definitely wouldn’t let Jughead just die if she could do something about it.   

As a sort of unintended test, perhaps, Cheryl brings up that she thinks her father might sacrifice her to the pagan god Moloch.  Jughead blinks about it but he doesn’t laugh or run away or attack her, so he passes this test.

As a result, Cheryl feels free to tell him forthwith (they’re being very forthright with each other here, which is great) that her parents were speaking in Russian with each other (she didn’t understand what they said, though, alas).  Jughead, having found a kindred spirit in an unexpected place, immediately asks her to “get in there and play gumshoe.”   At the thought of finding “something incriminating” against her parents, Cheryl looks bright eyed, bushy tailed, and inspired. She’s never looked at Jughead like that, ever. 

OUtside, in the parking lot, suspenseful music plays as the girls are gearing up for their first parallel parking lesson. The performance anxiety  of doing this in front of like A DOZEN PEOPLE is horrifying to me, but Ethel does a wonderful job.  They all passed the written and practical portions of the test!   Grundy is going to be taking all of them to the DMV to get their licenses!  She says that they must bring their birth certificates, because the DMV “needs to make sure none of you are Russian spies.”  She says it in a way that makes it clear she thinks it’s silly, but Ethel suddenly looks sad.  Oh dear. Does she not own a single valid form of ID??

Archie is working out using a rigged up rowing machine in the garage.  Uncle Fucking Frank of course has to investigate. I feel like there’s something off kilter about the way Frank keeps such close tabs on Archie. It’s most like Archie is a girl whose virginity is supposed to be safeguarded.   Apparently everyone rows at least an hour a day to stay in shape, so Archie is trying to get a head start.  

Frank has the temerity to give Archie  a man to man, I Know I’m Not Your Real Dad speech, unprompted.  Against all available evidence, Frank claims that he wants “what is best” for Archie, and that what he wants is “same as” what Fred would want. I was very worried for a second that he was going to sexually molest Archie, because this sounds like a sexual molestation set up.  But it isn’t.  Instead he gives Fred’s dog tags to Archie.  Then he tries to get Archie to enlist in the army.  

Fred apparently wasn’t drafted. He volunteered for the army.  This is supposed to make Archie feel better? I mean it makes ME like Fred a lot, because it’s MY democracy and MY freedom that people like Fred suffered and died so far from home, but I don’t see how Archie, who is so terribly wounded about his father’s death is supposed to feel better.  Also why oh why does Frank want Archie to die so badly, like WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM?   “Drop this poetry nonsense and join the army!”  Turning that spooky sexual maniac look on Archie again from before (it’s the same face he made calling Betty a ripe peach - vomit, phlegm, poop, bile, all the vileness, FIE) he says that “the best part about joining the Army” is that he “doesn’t have to wait until graduation.”

I mean. OK so in th 1950s Americans weren’t all having to earn PhDs in order to get entry level jobs like they have had to recently, but this still strikes me as absolute shit advice, AND going expressly against Mary’s clearly stated wishes.  

Meanwhile, Cheryl is exploring her house using a three color candelabra at the dead of night. She is so dramatic omg I love her.  “Let’s see what you’re hiding, daddy,” she mutters to herself in an empty room like a totally sane girl.   She finds a hardhat in his desk with a lamp attached to the forehead portion. The candles react to a draft she wasn’t expecting to exist in this room, so she pursues the source of the airflow and finds a SECRET PASSAGE hidden behind a portrait!  

Oh my gosh I love Thornhill so much.

This hidden compartment reveals A DOZEN milkman costumes!!! Complete with full pristine sets of glass milk bottles!!!  Ooooh!

The next morning, Archie is being haunted by his dad’s dog tags which make his world tilt at a weird angle.  He wears the dog tags to breakfast, freaking Mary out. She’s innocently asking about how  many waffles he wants, but her world is about to implode. She wants to know why Frank gave those to Archie.

At the same time, Ethel wants to talk to Betty. She doesn’t have her birth certificate because it’s somewhere in her house.  Betty is so kind to Ethel, immediately offering to go get it for Ethel.  The document is probably inside Ethel’s mother’s crafting desk, which held all her important papers. 

At school, Cheryl sees Jughead coming towards her, so she grabs him firmly by the lapel to drag the physically head-and-half taller boy forcibly into the music room.  This is. uh. This is very hot to me even though I know Cheryl is a gold star lesbian in her heart.   Anyway this is a first time experience for Jughead, being grabbed and tossed by a girl. I bet he didn’t know that cheerleaders have good upper body strength and powerful grips. 

Immediately after, Jughead gets to have another new experience:  A person with no reason to be particularly nice or supportive of him telling him that You Were Right. He’s so flummoxed by this reaction that he seeks reconfirmation:  “About which part?”  The answer is ‘Everything!”

She brought one of the giant milk bottles in her purse, which did not look like it could fit something that big.  

Jughead has been saying an interesting series of oaths this episode (“Holy crapola!” in response to the bunker, “Holy Moley” about something else I forget) so he busts out Holy Toledo at the news that Cheryl’s father has sets of milk bottles and the uniforms that go with the milk bottles hidden in his study.   He concludes, “The Milkman must have been working for your father! Doing his bidding!”

And because he’s a sweetheart who reads a lot of scary fiction, Jughead immediately asks Cheryl, “Are you in danger?” to which Cheryl has the coolest like, pretty girl working as an agent of the Resistance during Vichy type answer, which is “No more than usual.”  She does look extremely worried.   Cheryl had an extremely busy night of investigating, because she is also able to confirm that the  mines a) do produce palladium and b) are not abandoned.  She demands that Jughead bring his camera to her family estate that very night. She further instructs that he “pray an atomic disaster doesn’t befall us all before then!” before she takes off.

Betty walks into the abandoned murder house to try to do a nice thing for Ethel Muggs. She’s very brave. I would not be able to do this.  She’s shifting through the desk, and finds a lockbox.  She opens it with her hairpin!  Her skirt pattern is very pretty.  She finds what look like a series of receipts - that Hal Cooper was paying the Muggs for.  And then she finds a photo of Hal Cooper HOLDING A BABY.  What?  What??

At dinner that night at the Andrews house, Mary has some things to say.  She informs Frank that Archie has told her about the whole thing with the dog tags. “You used his father … to try to manipulate my son into joining the army. How dare you Frank? Especially when you yourself never served.”

Frank tries to speak homophobia code to Mary:  “It’ll set him straight!” he says.

Mary however is too obtuse to pick up on it. She still thinks this is about Archie writing poetry.   She finally - FINALLLYYYYY - lays down the law.  That Archie can make whatever choices he wants with his life after he graduates high school.  That is non negotiable for Mary, this high school graduation.  Archie indicates with a nod that he gets the message. 

Then she says that she “can’t have Frank here anymore. It’s time for you to move out.”

You mean to say that she had the power all this time, to kick Frank out, and DID NOT? 

Then her sexist homophobic brother in law and her clueless sexist son have a dick measuring contest IN FRONT OF HER about who is going to be the man of the house.  Frank is an underhanded piece of shit too, reminding her that she’s the one who invited him to Riverdale to ‘help.’  (So really, Mary is doubly guilty, first for inviting him, and second for letting him punish Archie for existing like that).  Mary reminds them both that she’s the one who pays for the  mortgage which.. again… HOW? She doesn’t have a bank account, right? Or did she inherit Fred’s when he died?

Looking suddenly at peace, Frank says that he’s going to “shack up with my old pal Tom Keller.”  He makes a deeply inappropriate comparison between himself and Keller - Keller is being divorced by his wife of almost twenty years with whom he has a son.  This is not the same relationship that Frank has with Mary!  

Mary doesn’t care what Frank does as long as the “bullying uncle” is out of the house.  Frank was living rent free in this house, yet he was so desperate about Archie’s poetry that he was willing to make him drop out of high school to join the army!

Betty goes home to ask her parents why they were writing checks to the Muggs household.  Mrs Muggs was their housekeeper! is the first lie that Hal tries to tell.  Betty then wants to know who the baby is. It’s Ethel, so Betty has to cross examine her dad.  Hal says that it’s because he’s Ethel’s godfather.   Betty wants to know why she’s never heard of any of this. 

Alice stops Hal from telling any more lies.  

“You’re Ethel’s father, aren’t you?” Betty concludes.

Alice kicks Hal out of the house for a bit so she can share an alcoholic drink with her daughter.  the real story is that Mildred Muggs was their housekeeper before Betty was born. Alice suspected an affair between Mrs. Muggs and Hal which was confirmed when Ethel was born.  The reason they hid all this was because of the TV station.  Everything Alice says after that first thing is a lie - she doesn’t give a fuck about “us, our family.”  She wanted a tv career because Alice has always has had a career obsession. When she says she ‘had no choice’ she means there was no other way for her to have a career on television than to be married to Hal Cooper.   So the arrangement was that the Muggs would raise the girl ‘as their own’ (which she was, she was Mildred’s own) while the Coopers sent money every month for support (from Hal).  

Betty puts it together again.  That this is why Alice took Ethel in, but hated her, humiliated her, had her forcibly imprisoned in the child abuse nunnery and so on.  And that this is why she was on such a rampage about Betty coming to adulthood.  Except Betty doesn’t say that - she concludes that Alice didn’t “want what happened to you to happen to me.” What, your husband a middle class white man predating on a working class woman?  How would having Kevin pin Betty over Archie fix anything?  Kevin is much more likely to have impregnated a lot of women in his life if he’d not been able to actually come out at least to himself by Betty dumping him.  This doesn’t make sense, but then, Betty in S7 is really stupid, and so is her mother so I guess this explanation is enough for both of their levels of intellect.

Alice starts weeping about how she failed as a mother and she’s sorry, but like I said, I don’t believe that motherhood, her daughters with Hal or “doing what was right” was in any way part of Alice’s calculations.  She simply wanted to hold on to having a tv career above dignity, above her own sanity, above her sexual well being.   Betty says that she thinks Alice did the best she could, because Betty is a kind person, but this is categorically wrong. Alice has acted purely out of malice towards Ethel and sexual jealousy for Betty (in that Betty had youth and an unblemished future without any bad compromises spread out ahead of her). 

Betty says that they need to call Hal back home so they can all tell Ethel she is a Cooper.   I hope Ethel axes them all to death in their sleep. 

Meanwhile, Cheryl and Jughead are having their adventure in the dark of night.   Jughead takes a hugely flashing photo of the night guard at the mines, who is watching Oh Mija.  Then they sneak past him to the mines.  The cooperative bickering-affirming dynamic they have between them is truly great.  When Jughead wants to know why there aren’t more guards, Cheryl points out that secret projects should maybe not call “undue attention” upon themselves, which Jughead concedes immediately is a good point.  

Jughead even gets the mojo back to narrate for a bit, as he says that while Cheryl and he were on the verge of a major discovery, Ethel was “experiencing emotional shockwaves about learning the truth about her life.”

Ethel says that she always felt like her parents’ discord was her fault, and that there was a lot of discord.  “That explains things” is what she says, with so much dignity.  The Coopers offer to adopt her, to “make things right.”    Extremely elegantly, Ethel rejects their offer immediately.  She says that what she wants is to be happy, which you can’t possibly be with Hal and Alice Cooper as your parents in any capacity.  She wants nothing to do with these people.  Ethel is the only one with a brain cell in this entire community. Good for her, and her smarts.

Frank is finally leaving.   The little family is seeing him off. Reggie first.  Then Frank finagles a final invitation to a regular home cooked meal (“Sunday dinner”) from Mary, who apparently is wonderful at cooking as she is at dress-and-halloween-costume making.  She still invites him, which is a level of forgiveness that I don’t think I am capable of mustering, even to be polite.  As he says goodbye to Archie, Frank asks that Archie not “hold things against him.”  Archie tries to teach Frank that writing poetry is not an emasculating activity. He specifically says that men in trenches in the fields of war have written beautiful poems.  Maybe that’s my path, he says, and Mary shakes her head a FIRM FUCKIN’ NO about dying in war.  They send him off. They’re playing sentimental music over this, but I have to confess I do not understand why. He’s been hateful, overbearing and condescending to them the entire time he’s been here.  They had a big blowout fight after he tried to induce Archie to drop out of high school to join the army, which is both expressly against Mary’s wishes and without any consultation with her.  Why are they making nicey nice?

Can Frank please die now? I am tired of hating him (though the hate is still going very strong.)

In the photo development room, Cherly and Jughead are talking about what to do with the evidence they have found.  Cheryl wants to take these to Sheriff Keller. Jughead disagrees, saying Keller might be in on it too.  “He’s just a dimwitted small-town sheriff that’s in over his head,” is Cheryl’s fantastic little summary of the stupid father of the awful Kevin.  Jughead wants to make this federal, not local, and is going to tap Veronica’s contacts with the FBI from when they were investigated her father.   Cheryl is impressed that Jughead Jones is capable of this much serious, rational thought.  I also wonder if she likes the idea of getting the feds involved or not.  In any case she calls him, playfully, “Sherlock Jones” which is some Veronica level moniker coinage, I must say.

Cheryl now wants to know if Jughead and Veronica are “officially an item.”  She … 

I.

Cheryl and Jughead have actually friendly banter!  I am pleased as punch. They have really nice chemistry!  Cheryl says, gently teasing, that she suspects Jughead might be “in over his crown” in trying to be in a relationship with Veronica Lodge, to which Jughead snaps back, bringing some bravado to it, that he is “holding his own.”  

One of the photos they took is of Jughead leaning very suggestively up against the very phallic looking palladium bomb. 

Cut to the family meal at Thornhill when they get an unexpected banging on the door.  Cheryl leaps up, offering brightly to “go get it.”  Ooh ok so I was wrong. She was purely pleased about involving the feds in this.  She lets in Glen(!) and the other G-Men.  She apparently even summoned them at this exact time.   

Clifford’s full name is Clifford Marion Blossom, and Penelope’s name is 

Penelope Pavlina Novikov Blossom.

Which I am going to commit to memory immediately. 

However, point of order here - shouldn’t that be Pavlina NovikoVA Blossom??

The Blossoms are arrested for “treason, conspiracy, and advocating for the violent overthrow of the American government.”  Moreover, the FBI is going to shut down “Project Moloch” which makes Clifford jump with surprise. 

Cheryl manages to get the last word in:  “You did a bad thing, Daddy.”

She stole wholesale, all of Veronica Lodge’s bag from right under her. No conflicts of interest despite being the daughter, either.   Because Veronica always waffled over Hiram. Not Cheryl. My hero. MVP of Riverdale for real. 

Jughead sounds excited as he relays that the world eventually learned that the American capitalist had been seduced by a Russian sleeper agent,. The plan was thus: 

From the A-bomb to the H-bomb to the P-bomb! 

Clifford Blossom pretended to be developing the P Bomb for the US government but in fact was going to sell it to the Russians.  The FBI took credit for foiling this plan, which Jughead says was “fine by” him except it wasn’t because he’s setting the record straight here.  In any case, he says he did manage to “put the rest of the pieces together.”

Jughead still needs to worship a father figure, and fortunately for him FP doesn’t exist in this AU and Rayberry died, so he’s quite safe.  His hagiographic treatment of Rayberry is that even though all Rayberry did was use what he was worried about from his job at the maple factory to write obscure stories in an obscure comic book the “brilliant, terrifying” nature of these stories is enough to stand him in good stead.   The thing is, Rayberry apparently died directly because he fell in a sort of love with Jughead Jones.  When he invoked the First Amendment on Jughead’s behalf, he “spooked” the powers that be, which made Mayor Blossom sicc his hitman on him.   

By the same token, Mr Muggs somehow, as the janitor, obtaining proof positive that the Blossoms were sitting on top of a stockpile of palladium similarly made him a target.  We are shown Ethel pack up her bag to leave to go somewhere.  Her last meeting in town seems to be with Jughead, who really just does not really care what the plot was, because she paid all the prices for everyone’s secrets from day 1 to literally the moment when Alice Cooper decided to do a nice thing for Ethel purely (and I do mean PURELY) for the purposes of fucking Betty over. 

But Ethel is unendingly kind to Jughead who is very obtusely obsessed with telling her how bad it all was, when all she wants to do is LEAVE.  She tells him, with the same dignified graciousness she’s exhibited throughout, that all his crazy eyed efforts make her “hope for a better tomorrow.”  To his credit, Jughead seems very moved by her elegance, looking at her with misty eyes as she departs with Ben.

Ben calls her Lovebug!!!!!!

Alice is deeply resentful (because she is evil) of Ethel getting to leave Riverdale and for Hollywood, to get a real job at a real movie studio, based purely on her talents.  This is not a caliber of career that either of her daughters is ever going to achieve.  Of course she’s going to try to stop her.  As usual,  Veronica has taken care of everything like the generous queen that she is - gotten Ethel a job, a connection to a powerful person who will feel obligated to look in on Ethel and give her some protection while she figures out the ropes and a place to live.  

You know, Tabitha may be the Guardian Angel of Riverdale but Veronica is the patron saint of Riverdalian hopes and dreams.  “Give them hell Ethel!” Veronica says.  Betty says she wants to visit Ethel.    Jughead and Ethel hugfarewell.  “I’ll miss you. You always were the best partner in crime,” Jughead says.

Why do I still get the feeling that Ethel is just a little bit in love with Jughead Jones?  She pats him gently on the face, telling him not to be “too sad” because they will “always have Pep Comics.”  Jughead really does look very sad about her departure.  

Alice tells Ethel that she’s going to be just fine, and keeps touching Ethel and I wish she wouldn’t. Because I don’t trust Alice at all.  

Jughead says that Ethel was the first to leave Riverdale. (Ben Button is apparently going with her to California but is going to come right back? Or is he so irrelevant he doesn’t count?)  Ethel drives out to the tune of NOTHING CAN STOP ME NOW! in her wonderful looking yellow car. I’m glad the pageant didn’t stiff her with the car.   Jughead has this to say:

“All of the pieces were falling into place, but it was just about time to find out if our little town would be avoiding an even greater cataclysm.”

I’m so glad Ethel got a great exit. I really am. I still think she should’ve gotten to fuck Jughead though, just to realize it isn’t all that.

#riverdale opinion #omg it's almost to the end and this was actually a good episode #ethel muggs #riverdale s7 recap #riverdale s7 #riverdale episode recap