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#is he abandoning the fuckboi era?
sincericida · 1 month
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ANDREW GARFIELD
and mystery woman was spotted grocery shopping in Malibu.
Here we go, the thing changed figure.
(source)
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chryblossomjjk · 2 years
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practice (pt. 3) | jjk
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⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader
⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst
⇢ WC: 12.8k sorry
⇢ WARNINGS: emotional at points, fighting rip, oc lowkey in her villain era, they both say mean things to eachother (nothing tew intense), jk is not a himbo >:(, characters are forced to face their insecurites </3, misunderstandings, finger sucking, oral sex (f and m recieving), 69 action if u squint, brief ass eating, a little manhandling, titty sucking (obvi), flavored lube, butt plug moment, miss hitachi is finally here !!!, unprotected sex, corruption kink, squirting, overstimulation, slight dom jk, a bit of manhandling, praise, creampie, maybe unrequited love, maybe not (lol jk u'll find out), where's waldo but instead of waldo its bam
⇢ SUMMARY: sparks fly as you try to forget about jungkook.
⇢ NOTES: it’s finally here! if you haven't read pt 2 in a while, i'd suggest rereading it before reading this part! maybe even pt 1 bc callbacks. you might miss a few things if you don't. kinda nervy to post this bc everyone was so conflicted. hopefully the ending is satisfying for all. also sorry if the smut is meh, this piece was more plot driven than other things i’ve written. thank you so much for the love and support on this series. seriously cannot thank you guys enough. very bittersweet to be saying goodbye to it but i hope you stick around. love you and as always feedback is v appreciated !! big ty to @floweryjeons for betaing !!
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⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST
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dumbo do u want lunch? i can drop it off in about 30
You were midway through a three hour lab and you really needed to focus. Unfortunately, the professor’s droning was easily overtaken by incessant vibrating. You peek at your phone with a scoff before shoving it back into your pocket. 
Jungkook doesn’t get the hint.
dumbo i’ll just get the usu
dumbo lol i forget… ur lab is in room 305 in the civic engagement building right?
Room 222 in the science building. You don’t correct him, though. 
It was difficult to ignore the sharp, self-inflicted stabs that pierced through your back whenever he texted you. But you had to rip the bandaid off before it had time to adhere to you entirely. You hadn’t talked to him in days. Not since he lied to you.
Whenever you had the urge to respond, you went through memories. Pictures of him looking unamused, pink pout scrunched up as you smushed his cheeks together. Videos of his nostrils fluttering as blaring snores filled your dorm room; your soft giggles in the background.
Little snapshots of the present that were now the past. 
You were slowly weaning yourself off of Jeon Jungkook.
Your phone goes off again during your break. 
dumbo hey i’ve been waiting for like 20 min
dumbo gonna head out since ur probably caught up. free until about 4 tho so text me if u want anything i’ll come back
dumbo or we can just get something after the showcase?
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dumbo are you running late?
dumbo you know it starts at 7p right?
dumbo ik you hate being late so i’m starting to get nervous…
dumbo just let me know that you’re safe please
Those texts were sent nearly three hours ago. You’ve tried to distract yourself with homework, Sailor Moon, and the watermelon mask you were currently washing off your face. Nothing helped. The guilt lingering in your chest was heavy and you wish it would trickle down the drain like the abandoned products. 
You sigh, shaking your hands vigorously to flick off the excess water. A damp knuckle presses your phone screen. It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. Back at square one. 
The scent of your green tea moisturizer fills your nostrils as you glide the creamy substance over your skin. Fingertips dancing gently across the surface of your plump cheeks. The touch is soft and delicate, just like his was-
Intrusive thoughts make you want to remove your frontal lobe.
You try to remind yourself that although vibrant and dashing, Jungkook was anything but your knight in shining armor. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Just like the rest of the men who tried to conquer the tall brick walls of your heart, mind, and body. 
You look at yourself in the mirror. Despite the brightening mask, your dewy skin was dull. The inner corners of your big eyes were overtaken by winding red branches. The thick black bags under them appear even heftier than your beloved Playboy duffel. Your plump lips are coated in your Laniege lip mask. It’s candy-flavored, but it doesn’t taste as sweet anymore. You look lifeless. 
Did cutting Jungkook off really affect you that badly?
Or perhaps you always looked like this, and the loss of him made you realize how truly gloomy and lackluster things were before.
For the past two months, your reflections were filled with pearly white teeth and crinkled eyes. Being with Jungkook was careless and irresponsible in all the right ways. Whenever you were with him, the negative thoughts that often plagued your mind were forgotten, and you were just… free. 
But look where that got you.
The sound of your phone pinging brings you back to reality. 
dumbo tae said that you’re home with mina…
Taehyung. What a little snitch. You’ll make sure that Mina punishes him adequately. 
dumbo not sure what your deal is but i’m fucking heated
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“What do you know, Taehyung?” You sneer his name like a curse; the nasty ‘T’ word.
“I know everything,” he responds nonchalantly, flipping through his absolute mammoth of a textbook. He nods his head toward the guilty party beside him. “Your bestie told me.” 
“Liar!” Mina gasps, smacking his sweater-clad bicep. Her voice lowers immediately when Taehyung shushes her. You were in the library after all. She looks at you exasperatedly. “I didn’t tell him like- ‘everything’ everything.”
“I don’t need to know everything.” He closes the hardcover book gingerly, peering at you over the thick black rim of his glasses. You’re convinced they’re a sham, and he only wears them to look professional and intellectual. “My keen deductive reasoning has led me to the conclusion that this situation is—in fact—fucking ridiculous.”
You gawk at bluntness. “Aren’t you literally studying to be a therapist?” 
“Psychiatrist,” he corrects with a cheesy grin. “I’m allowed to tell you when you’re being childish.”
“Tae, be nice.” Mina warns with a scowl, holding her index finger out right in front of his nose. “I know Jungkook is your friend, but he’s grimy.”
“I swear, I’m not trying to be a dick.”  Taehyung laughs, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m just giving perspective. I care about you, __.”
“Sure you do.” You answer curtly, rolling your eyes. 
“And-,” Taehyung claps his large palms together, fingertips pointed towards you in an accusatory fashion. “-I know Jungkook better than both of you.” He gestures between you and Mina. “He’s not a bad dude.” 
“He-,”
“He ditched her to go to a party!” Mina beats you to the punch, voice whiny and frustrated. “And lied about it! He’s trash!”
“Thank you, Mina,” you whisper-shout, placing a finger over your lips to remind her, once again, that you were still in the library. As much as you love her, you didn’t necessarily want all of campus knowing your dirty laundry. Your eyes scan the dimly lit room for eavesdroppers. Luckily, it was fairly empty at this time of day. 
“Why don’t you just talk to him?” 
“It’s not that simple, Tae,” you sigh, turning your attention back to the empty word document on your laptop screen. In the twenty minutes you’ve been sitting here, you have only managed to type the essay’s title and your name. Spelled wrong. Sneakily, you correct the typo before anyone notices. 
“Maybe…” Mina starts, lips scrunching to the side in contemplation. She looks at her boyfriend innocently before tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Playing all the right cards. “Maybe… you could talk to him for her? Or do a little snoopy snoop to see what he’s up to?”
“There’s no way in hell I’m playing double agent for you guys.”  
“Come on, Tae!” Mina pouts. “It could be fun!”
“No,” Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “I refuse to get in the mid-,”
“Hey!” 
Taehyung’s words are cut off by an uncomfortably familiar voice. Its usual soft, playful tone was laced with sternness. The sound makes your spine straighten. 
Jungkook. 
You were so distracted that you hadn’t heard his clunky black boots stomping towards you. The firm grip of tattooed fingers on your shoulder makes you look up. Even under the rim of his bucket hat, you can see the angry stars dancing in his black eyes. They’re hot and scalding with irritation. “Can we talk?”
“About?” You peep in feigned naivety. 
“Oh, please,” he scoffs loudly, laughing in disbelief. The seat beside you is yanked out with a startling screech. Jungkook plops down on it and turns to face you, knees digging into your outer thigh. Always so incredibly close. “Don’t give me that shit-,”
“Jungkook.” Taehyung calls, trying to stifle the bubbling lava in Jungkook’s stomach before he erupts. It was rare to see his happy-go-lucky friend so agitated. “Chill.”
His eyes soften at the warning. It’s like Jungkook hadn’t even registered how angry he had actually become. The entirety of his college experience has been spent distancing anger—and any other negative emotion—so far from his being that he couldn’t even detect the cues anymore. He inhales deeply through his nose, white t-shirt pulling tight at his chest, before exhaling. 
“You good?” Taehyung asks. 
“Yeah, I’m good.” Jungkook nods, bringing a hand up to massage slow circles into his temple. Despite how upset you are with him, the self-soothing mechanism makes your heart ache. “I promise, I’m calm. I just want to talk.”
His pupils dart between the two unmoving figures across from you.
“Alone, please.”
Jungkook and Taehyung lock eyes for a moment, communicating silently through some bro-telepathy that has you and Mina exchanging confused glances. Suddenly, the curly-haired boy nods, collecting his textbook and intertwining his fingers with Mina’s. “Let’s go, babe.”
“Tae, wait!” Mina protests, trying to wriggle out of Taehyung’s grasp. She looks at you apologetically as her boyfriend urges her towards the exit, unable to break free. “Call me after, okay?” She shoots Jungkook a threatening glare before turning away. 
And just like that, you were left alone with the man you’d been avidly avoiding for the past week and a half. 
“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook questions, silver piercing glimmering in the light as he gnaws on his bottom lip. The pink skin under his bunny teeth was already turning red. “Like… did I do something wrong?”
You look everywhere but him, mindlessly scrolling up and down the empty page on your laptop screen. It was a poor attempt to act unbothered, despite the heavy thumping in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The showcase?”
“What about it?” 
Jungkook always took your attitude in stride, leveling your petty comments with kisses and playful eyerolls. This eye roll, however, paired with a painfully clenched jaw, is anything but playful. “Quit playing games, __. I’ve had enough,” he grits. 
He never calls you by your name. 
“Playing games,” you echo with a sarcastic laugh. In the pit of your stomach, you can feel the sadness morphing into a fit of heady anger. The words taste vile and sour on your tongue before they’re spewed at him. “That’s rich coming from you.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the puzzled expression on his face. Eyebrow piercing twitching in confusion as the cogs in his brain spin, trying to make sense of your words. “I don’t understand…” 
How does he not understand?
“Why didn’t you come to the showcase?”
You huff out a sigh, gaze fluttering to the ceiling. 
“Answer me,” he urges, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, clearly trying to shift your attention back onto him. As if that wasn’t what landed you in this position in the first place.
“Jungkook-,” 
Your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel his sharp exhales fan across your cheek. Fast and restless. It makes you miss the deep, peaceful ones he would make when buried under your heavy duvet; hair disheveled from tossing and turning and the brush of your fingers as you lulled him to sleep. His breath smells like toothpaste and vanilla gum. You glance at your taskbar. It’s 12:23 p.m. and he hasn’t eaten yet.
“I didn’t go because this is unproductive,” you sigh, closing your laptop and finally gaining the courage to face the man beside you. “You being in my life is unproductive.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Unproductive.” When your eyes meet his big dark ones, you can’t stand them. You can’t stand him for what he’s done, for how he’s turned something so special to you, so ugly. It coaxes that equally ugly, scaly, green defensiveness out of you. You want to retreat, and rebuild the walls higher, so that your emotional security would never be destroyed again. Anyone who threatened it would be burned, including Jungkook, sitting before you with doe eyes as you prepared to breathe fire in his direction. “I know it’s a difficult word, but you’re a big boy. Sound it out.” 
The look on his face makes you regret the low blow instantly. 
“Jesus,” he huffs, taking his hat off and scrubbing his hands over his face like he’s trying to wake up from a nightmare. “Why are you being-”
You cringe, expecting a nasty insult.
“-so mean?”
Oh. 
Ow. 
For some reason, that hurt more than any curse word would. 
“I’m not mean.” 
“I know you’re not,” he lifts his head, searching your face for any remnant of the girl he’s spent the last two months with. “So why are you acting like this?”
Your silence eggs him further. 
“You know what, I’m so fucking sick of you treating me like I’m stupid,” his eyes squeeze closed when he swears, nails digging into his tattooed knuckles as he crosses his big hands. The confession rips through him and hits you like a physical blow. You suddenly remember all of the times you’ve teased Jungkook about his major or insulted his intelligence. 
‘What tests? You’re a photography major.’
‘You’re an idiot, Jungkook.’
‘Your major is showing.’
You didn’t mean any of it. Not one bit. They were just shitty efforts to conceal your feelings for him. You never realized that Jungkook was taking your comments to heart. But it was too little too late. You can’t turn back time and the floodgates have already opened. 
“Just because I’m not some big-shot science major, doesn’t mean that I’m fucking brainless. And it certainly doesn’t mean that you’re better than me.” With his hat sitting on the glossy wooden table, you can fully see the angry arch in his brows. The scrunch in his nose intensifies as he seethes. “What? You think you’re too good to go to the showcase? If you didn’t want to come you should’ve grown a pair and said something.”
“It’s not that,” you protest, chin quivering with ugly dents as you try to hold back tears. “I just… figured you’d bring someone else.”
Jungkook pauses for a moment, cogs coming to a halt when he finally comprehends your vague statements. “Stop acting like you can read my mind- or that you know me better than I know myself.” He snatches his hat and drops it back on his head, fingers gripping the rim to adjust the position. “Because you clearly don’t know shit about me.”
You watch silently as he scoots his chair back, standing up with urgency. How did things come to this? Two months ago you were casual friends, now you’re fighting in the middle of the school library. You would’ve never let him into your dorm room that night if you knew it would hurt this bad. 
“And I actually thought-,” Jungkook says, turning to face you. His lips open and then close promptly before he waves a hand at you. “Fuck it, nevermind. I’m done.” 
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You look extremely suspect.
Speeding through campus with your hood up, sweater strings almost dangling to the floor with how tight you’ve pulled them. You can barely see where you’re going. The small fluffy peephole you’ve provided yourself is no good for navigating the winding halls of the dreaded liberal arts building. 
You’ve been sleeping in later and later; a recent habit. Most days you felt drained, barely able to muster the energy to crawl out of bed. That’s exactly what happened this morning, hence why you’re marching down this evil, forbidden shortcut, in hopes of making it to class on time. 
It’s a Tuesday. Jungkook doesn’t have classes on Tuesdays. But you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him and the places he frequents. You haven’t heard from him since the.. incident. Not a single text or call. It hurt like hell, but what did you expect? You weren’t exactly nice to him the last time you two spoke. And it wasn’t like he cared to begin with. He was probably already buried in someone else; moaning blissfully. Meanwhile, you can’t even leave your damn room without thinking about him. 
Shut up, evil brain. Back to the matter at hand—getting to class. 
You decide that music is the best method of distraction. An exaggerated sigh slips out as you yank your phone out of your pocket. You’re just about to crank your airpods up when a couple of distant voices catch your attention. 
“These are from this weekend's showcase, we’re taking them down next week…” A muffled response that you can’t comprehend. “Yep, all are my students.”
You stop dead in your tracks.
The professor’s prideful tone rings in your ears, drowning out whatever breakup playlist you were previously listening to. The mention of a showcase, the showcase, makes your heart drop with a painful thud. 
Fuck.
Your skull feels exponentially heavier than normal when you lift it, finally breaking eye contact with the dingy concrete floor underneath you. There are pictures hung all along the white walls of the campus center. No doubt leftover from an event you deliberately skipped. 
You roll your head back, attempting to loosen the uncomfortable tension in your muscles. Anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip, you take in your surroundings. Jittery hands pluck out your headphones and plop them back into your Luna-shaped airpod case. Underneath all the sadness and guilt, your body was teaming with curiosity. 
You never found out what Jungkook’s topic of choice was. And now that you think about it, you haven’t seen any of his photography. Ever. 
A quick look wouldn’t hurt, right?
Besides, maybe this was what you needed to move on. A final goodbye to the man who has held your mind captive for far too long. 
With a deep exhale and a heavy heart, you take the plunge and step forward. You lull along the walls, staring wide-eyed at each photo. Most of them take on a dark modern vibe, displaying people and objects in dreary settings. A sea of gray and black. Devoid of color. You glance at the labels above. The topics chosen were gloomy, too. 
Hm. Life imitates art. 
You wonder if those students have had their hearts broken as well. 
A vibrant splash of color makes you halt. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the canvas. There’s a blood-red rose. The lens is so zoomed in that the flower eats up the entire portrait. You place a manicured digit against it, tracing your fingertip along the jagged veins in the delicate petals. The imagery is surreal, almost comparable to a heart. Not a cutesy cartoon heart—the literal human organ. You think it’s stunning, standing out amongst the rest like a beautiful sore thumb. 
The printed black font along the border makes your breath hitch.
Love - Jeon Jungkook.
The subject confuses you, but the photography makes sense. Of course, this was Jungkook’s work. It’s obnoxious, lively, and so incredibly different from the rest. Stunning and enchanting, nonetheless. The next photo in his set is of two shadows, a bit distorted as they're splayed against the concrete. A couple holding hands. You recognize the silhouettes immediately; Mina and Taehyung. You can’t fight the smile spreading across your face. 
Next in the portfolio is a room, white walls decorated with faux ivy vines. The little, golden lights laced throughout them gives the picture a warm saturated glow. At the center of the photo is a woman laying underneath a cream duvet. Her bare back is facing the camera, messy hair sprawled on the pillow. It’s a bit risqué, but you get how it connects to his chosen subject. It’s the aftermath of the physical act of love.
To any other student or teacher strolling by, the woman in the picture was a stranger. But to you, she’s the farthest thing from a stranger.
She’s you.
Jungkook must have taken it while you were sleeping.
A wave of the most perplexing, juxtaposing emotions washes over you. Your palms turn clammy as you try to process what you’re witnessing. Why would he do this? Include a picture of you in a project, literally titled ‘love’, only to fucking lie to you? To take advantage of your affection and string you along while he entertained another person?
You find the answers to your aimless questions in the next photo.
Fireworks. 
The only time you remember seeing or hearing fireworks was… 
The night of the party. 
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“Jungkook,” you sigh, pressing your damp forehead against the grainy wood of his door. You never thought you’d be in this position. Chasing after a man. It’s humiliating and out of character, but you need to make things right. “I know you’re in there…”
You’ve been standing outside of his dorm room for the past ten minutes. Knocking, pleading, begging. All to no avail. The sound of rustling blankets and footsteps on the other side makes you lift your head, eyes widening with hope. The optimism is lost once the soft noises stop completely. They only served to confirm your suspicions. Jungkook is home and he’s purposely ignoring you. 
Oh, the irony.
Earlier in the week, the roles were reversed. Jungkook was the one pining for your attention. Now, you know exactly how he must have felt that day in the library. And you don’t like it one bit. 
“Look,” you huff, shaking a few clumpy strands out of your face. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now… but I’m really sorry.”
The only response you receive is the whoosh of running water. 
Your shoulders slump in defeat. Obviously, he’s not going to answer the door. Why would he? He had every right to be mad. You hadn’t hesitated to dismiss him, and his passions, when you were the one upset.
You come to the grim realization that maybe things are better this way.
Jungkook is completely, entirely, wholeheartedly different from you, and you from him. So much so that you were incompatible. You’ve barely dipped your toes into anything serious, yet the two of you were already fighting and miscommunicating. It would never work, whatever it is. It couldn’t.
Deep down in your heart, you know none of that is true.
As much as you try to rationalize the distance, you can’t convince yourself that your life is better like this—because whenever you picture a future with Jungkook or reflect on the past, you see and feel nothing but sunshine. The walls begin to crumble and you feel free. Maybe, the characteristics of Jungkook you deemed annoying and different, were what made being with him so euphoric.
But none of that matters anymore. Whatever chance you had at that, at something more with him, you've completely destroyed. With a grimace and an awful pit in your stomach, you decide the best thing you can do for him is leave him alone. You adjust the takeout bags in your hand and begin to head out. 
Just as you reach the end of the dingy hallway, you hear a click and a loud creak. You spin so fast you almost get whiplash. 
Jungkook is standing in his doorway, looking at you blankly with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He’s shirtless, full muscles rippling under his milky skin. Normally you would ogle at the sight of his toned chest and defined abs, but your focus is elsewhere. Like on the red flannel sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, sharp v-line peeking over the hem. You recognize them from the night you helped him study for an upcoming quiz. 
‘This is a conspiracy,’ he grumbled, convinced the test was an elaborate scheme by the school committee to punish him for his frequent drunken mishaps and countless guideline violations. You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder as you helped him memorize terms and ideas. You guys didn’t leave the library until 2 a.m.
He looks warm and cozy. Dark tresses swooping in messy waves across his forehead as he peers at you with doe eyes. After not seeing him or checking in on him for a while, you let out a sigh of relief. 
“Hi.” 
“Hey,” he mumbles softly, voice coming out muffled over the bristles of his toothbrush. He pulls it out, letting out a tiny ‘oops’ as a glob of toothpaste hits the floor. He wipes it away with his foot before continuing. “What are you doing here?”
“I…” Everything you wanted to say had trickled out of your mind like the little droplets of water running down your skin. 
He meets your silence with an unamused squint and starts to close the door. 
“Jungkook, wait!” You shout, taking a few frantic steps closer. “I saw the showcase!”
He pauses. “You did?” His thick brows slant in confusion. “How?”
“It’s still up in the liberal arts building.”
He nods his head slowly as an awkward quietness falls over the corridor. You can tell he’s still upset with you and the tension makes you queasy. 
“I have pancakes,” you offer nervously, lifting up the crinkled plastic bags in your hand. It’s so damn cheesy. But you're trying your best. You prayed that he understood the reference, and remembered how he showed up to your dorm in the same exact way. The fateful night that started it all. 
“Interesting.” His nose twitches as he tongues the little hoop on his bottom lip. Obviously fighting a smile. Thank God. “What kind?”
“Chocolate chip… your favorite.” 
He hums a contemplative noise, scanning you up and down. Your hair is dripping. The pink velvet hoodie you’re wearing is clinging to your figure in ways he knows it isn’t supposed to. “Why are you wet?”
“It’s raining,” you point out. 
Jungkook glances over his shoulder, glancing into his room and out the window at the cloudy, gray sky. There’s a change in his expression when he faces you again. “You walked here in the rain?”
You nod meekly. 
The harsh glint in his eyes softens. He sighs deeply, head dropping in defeat as he holds out a colorful arm, inked digits gesturing for you to come closer. “C’mere, Bambi. I’ll get you some clothes.”
Bambi. 
You’ve never been so elated to hear that nickname. 
“Thank you,” you peep, scurrying towards his open door before he changes his mind and sends you packing. Goosebumps form on your skin when your bicep brushes against his bare chest as you hastily enter the room. The light touch leaves your cheeks hot.
“Hold on,” he says, disappearing into his tiny bathroom. You set the pancakes on top of his nightstand, awkwardly standing in the middle of his dorm. This isn’t exactly how you envisioned your first time at Jungkook’s place would go.
While idly taking in your surroundings, you spot a little whiteboard above his bed. On it, scribbled in blue marker, is the biggest boobs you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s a heart eyes emoji tacked on in the corner. A good artistic detail, you think. You should be rolling your eyes at his boyishness. That’s what you always do. But an endeared laugh comes out instead. 
Why was a poorly drawn pair of tits making you soft?
Right underneath the whiteboard is a collage of taped pictures. You bend at the waist for a better look. There’s a polaroid of him and Taehyung, arms intertwining at the elbows, both downing a dark, probably alcoholic, beverage. How cute of them. The next photo is of Jungkook on a rollercoaster, tongue out and eyes crinkled as he middle fingers the camera. So wild and free. Your heart swells in familiarity. 
But the more you stumble upon, the more unfamiliar Jungkook becomes. There’s a few blurry pictures of a big black dog he’s never spoken about before. The next one has you gushing. It’s a candid image of baby-faced Jungkook, holding up his high school diploma with a proud, big, bunny smile. There’s an older woman in the frame kissing his cheek. You tilt your head in confusion. You wonder if it’s his mother. You had just assumed he couldn’t stand his parents and didn’t keep in contact with them.
Maybe… you don’t have Jungkook figured out like you thought you did. There’s still so much you have to learn. You make a mental note of all the questions you want to ask him later. 
That is if there even is a later. 
The bathroom door opens and Jungkook walks out. “Here,” he says, handing you a pile of neatly folded clothes. There’s an oversized black hoodie on top. Your favorite sweater, the one you always steal from him. You watch sullenly as he sits down on the edge of his bed. 
“I’m sorry,” you reiterate, absolutely loathing how weak and frail you sound. Jungkook doesn’t respond. He just stares into your soul with those scrutinizing eyes. “Can you talk to me, please?”
“I wanted to talk at the library,” he groans, arms jolting forward in frustration, fingers painfully flexed and hooked like claws. His bare chest flushed an angry red. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. All fucking week!”
Startled, you jump at his voice, dropping the stack of clothes you were holding. Jungkook’s eyes widen.
“Ah, I-'' he interrupts himself with a shameful hiss. You pick up the fallen fabrics with shaky hands, placing them on his nightstand with the forgotten pancakes. Jungkook digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, too apologetic and embarrassed for losing his cool to look at you. “I’m sorry.”
To be fair, he hadn’t been that loud. It was more abrupt than anything else. But your Jungkook was as happy and carefree as the wind. This side of him was new, and you were still figuring out how to navigate the uncharted waters. “It’s okay.” You can’t blame him. Not after everything you’ve done. “You’re allowed to be mad.” 
“I’m not mad,” he sighs. The tattooed fingers splayed over his eyes slide in to clamp the bridge of his nose. The other hand pats the spot next to him on the black comforter. “Come here.” 
“But,” you look down at the damp clothes, “I’m wet.”
“It’s fine. Sit down.”
You listen, cautiously sinking down into the bed. Despite the copious amounts of nude escapades, you’ve never felt more vulnerable with him. Usually, when you’re in bed with Jungkook, he’s panting above you, sleeping below you, or lying beside you. Head snuggled into your neck like an annoying, albeit affectionate, cat. Now, you make sure to keep your distance, anxiously picking at your chipped nail polish. 
“What happened?” He questions breathlessly, relieved to finally verbalize the words that were weighing heavy on his chest. “Everything was going great and then you switched up on me. Like the showcase? Really, Bambi? I was the only person there without a guest.”
The disappointment in his voice cuts you deep, but the vision of him at the event he had been so excited for, completely alone, hurts even worse. You were his muse, and you rejected him. Looking at him was an awful decision, because you get lost in his eyes immediately. Those beautiful, captivating, endless eyes. Filled with pain and uncertainty. You realize the only way to make that awful look disappear, is to confess…
“I really like you, Jungkook… a lot. Like- more than just friends…”
Once again, you’re met with silence. Jungkook’s face is unreadable yet so familiar. You've seen that expression before. You can’t pinpoint when or where exactly, but it makes your heart pound so loudly that your ears ring.
“So,” you continue shakily, “the last time we hung out—when you canceled our plans—I got really upset.”
“I was finishing my project.” 
“But then I saw a picture of you at a party-,”
“Yeah,” he defends, looking at you exasperatedly, unable to follow your train of thought. “I wanted to take pictures of the fireworks.” 
“I know that now,” you admit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, “but the picture was from Nayeon’s Instagram.” 
“Nayeon?” He frowns. “I haven’t talked to Nayeon in months.”
“But you guys were-” your eyes dart around in search of the right phrasing. You settle on ‘a thing’, putting little air quotes around the ambiguous title. 
“Why does that matter?” He asks incredulously. “Her and I ended things before we even started hooking up. I haven’t had sex with anybody else since we’ve been a thing.” The last part is teasing, he mimics your air quotes as his pierced pout curls into a smirk. Ah, Jungkook gets it now. Your unbecoming actions over the course of the week were a product of jealousy and possessiveness. Any lingering trace of anger is washed away with the revelation. “I told you that.”
“Yeah, but…” After mulling over your thoughts, you hesitate to speak. You hadn’t realized how ridiculous and childish you were being until now. Taehyung was right after all. “I don’t know, the way you said it seemed… fishy.”  
Jungkook deadpans you before shaking his head, chuckling under his breath. You watch it all unfold awkwardly. How embarrassing. 
“It’s not funny, Jungkook!”
“Ah!” He echos your shouts through a laugh, cupping your head with his large hands and jittering it gently. “Stop thinking! Your brain is evil!”
Hm. Valid point. 
“In my defense,” you retort, cuffing his wrists with your tiny hands. His skin is warm and soft. You’ve missed touching him so much. “You literally mentioned Nayeon while we were having sex.”
The playful stars in his eyes combust. “Huh?”
“Oral fixation.” 
His eyes widen in remembrance. “Oh shit,” he groans, slumping down, hands dropping into his lap. “Looking back, that was so fucked, but I- I just thought it was funny. I swear I didn’t mean anything, like- bad by it. I-.” Frustrated by his own stuttering and lack of judgment, Jungkook mushes his fingers into his sockets before laying down in defeat. “That was so fucking stupid of me. I’m stupid. I’m sorry, Bambi.”
Stupid. 
That word coaxes a visceral reaction out of you. 
“Don’t say that,” you whisper. His tattooed fingers part in the middle as he hesitantly peeks at you. You giggle for a moment, and so does he, but then you feel the gravity of the situation. Sniffling, you look down at the beautiful boy. How could you have ever been so nasty to him? You push his bangs back gently. They’ve gotten longer. Cupping his cheek, you slowly brush your thumb across his soft skin. You’re afraid that if you’re too rough, he’ll slip right through your fingers. “You’re not stupid, Jungkook... I’ve never met anyone who sees the world how you do. You’re so creative and clever in your own right… I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t, because I don’t think that at all.” Voice crack. “I never did.”  
“Hey,” Jungkook coos in concern. “It’s okay.” 
“No, it’s not okay,” you argue, blinking furiously to fight back the waterworks. “And I’m really sorry about the showcase. I know how important it was to you.” 
“Shh,” he shushes, “please don’t cry.” He catches your hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing the sweetest, gentlest kiss to your fingertips. “You apologized, so we’re good, yeah?” 
“Mhm,” you sniffle. It feels like a ton of bricks have been lifted off of your shoulders. “For what it’s worth, your portfolio was gorgeous.”
“Nah,” he teases, wrapping an arm around your waist and encouraging you to lay down with him. “You’re only saying that because you were in it.” You smile softly, thankful for his light-hearted banter. You stay like that for a while. Face to face. Just looking at one another. You think you could stay like this forever, basking in his beauty. His warmth. Jungkook speaks first. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about the picture?” 
“I guess, I was just scared of losing you… but then I just started ignoring you, which doesn’t make sense… so probably should’ve just talked to you about it.” The stream of consciousness makes him laugh. “I really like you, Jungkook.”
“I don’t do relationships.” 
You feel your heart shatter into a million, irreparable pieces. 
How cruel. 
“Wait, those aren’t the right words,” Jungkook shakes his head. “What I meant to say is that I’ve never actually been in a relationship.” The stammered admission has you stunned. Campus fuckboy Jungkook has never been in a relationship? “And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing but… I really like you, too. I want you, I do… I don’t know how good of a boyfriend I’ll be but,” he looks at you for the first time throughout his nervous ramble. His eyes are just as terrified as yours. “I’m willing to try if you are.”
You blink at him. Did he just say… boyfriend? 
“__,” Jungkook calls, anxiously toying with his lip ring. “Do you want this?”
You’ve never wanted anything more. 
Without warning, you smash your lips into his. This kiss is sloppy and brash, but he’s yours. Jungkook is yours. “I think you chipped my tooth,” he winces, chuckling breathlessly. “Is that a yes?”
You nod vehemently. 
“Okay,” he smiles, tilting your chin, “now give me a real kiss. None of that amateur shit you just pulled.” 
You kiss him again, head full of clouds and tummy full of butterflies. Jungkook grabs under your thighs, maneuvering you on top of him, knees on either side of his cinched waist. Your lips are more controlled this time. There’s a little tongue action. Nothing too dirty, just soft brushes and prods like you’re two virgins testing the waters. Everything is slow and unhurried. You feel like you’re floating, levitating, fucking astral projecting.
“There we go,” Jungkook grins, the rounded tip of his nose tickling yours. It’s so sappy, and you can only imagine how dumb you two look, staring at each other with sparkly eyes and goofy smiles.
Jungkook is still Jungkook, though.
A sneaky hand and the grinding of a zipper interrupts the cute moment.
“You perv!” You shriek, giggling wildly as you swat his naughty fingers away. The damage is done, and the sleeve of your open sweater slips down your bare shoulder. “Is sex all you think about?”
“Mm,” he hums in confirmation, placing a peck on the newly exposed skin. “Sex with you,” he specifies before peeling the damp material from your arms and tossing it onto the floor. You cringe at the clanging of your expensive, deadstock, Juicy Couture hoodie. “Why are you so covered up?” Jungkook sits up to suck on your erect nipple, right through your translucent, white tank top. Whimpering, you grind against him. “You gotta take this off…” he sighs dreamily, yanking the pesky shirt over your head.
Wow. He’s extra needy today. Not that you’re complaining. 
“Jungkook,” you complain, arms crossed over your chest. “Stop staring!”
“Why are you being so shy?” He does this often. Gawks at your naked body until your skin burns and your cheeks sting. It's a strange feeling. So uncomfortable yet so reassuring. You’ve never had a man look at you the way Jungkook does, like he’s trying to remember every birthmark, curve, and detail. That level of intimacy was scary. You can’t help but squirm under his intense gaze. “You’re my girl now, aren’t you, baby?
His girl. You swoon. 
“I am, it’s just kinda awkward.” 
“How so?” He patronizes, bottom lip jutting out in a deep pout. “Can’t I look?”
“You can just… don’t stare.”
“I do what I want.” The sudden switch in his voice makes your breath hitch. “Move your arms. Let me see you.”
Oh. He’s in one of those moods. 
You and Jungkook rarely dabbled in sub and dom dynamics. Maybe, he was too afraid of intimidating you. Maybe, you were too afraid to initiate. But boy was his aggressiveness a treat. The duality between the relaxed attitude he carried in his everyday life, and the occasional primal beast that came out during sex, made your mouth water. 
“Really?” He tuts his tongue when you counter him with a scowl, raising a threatening brow at you, code for ‘go ahead, test me’. You do, not moving a muscle. 
Jungkook physically pries your arms apart and twists them behind your back, holding your wrists together in one hand. The swift movement makes you gasp.
“This okay, Bambi?” 
All you can see over the bubbles of your cheeks is his tangled, black hair. His forehead rests against your collarbones, sharp exhales fanning across your chest. The hot gusts make your nipples pebble and the light stimulation sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your spine.
“Yes,” you whimper. 
Using his free hand, Jungkook grips your jaw, indulging you in a sweet kiss. “Good girl.” The whispered praise has your clit throbbing. He turns your face towards the sleek mirror mounted on the wall. “Look at you, baby.”
Insecurity looms over you like a black raincloud as you’re forced to look at the reflection. The sight of your nude body makes you feel icky. Instinctively, you try to jerk away.
 “Hey, stop-” he gruffs, tightening his grip to cement you in place. “Chill. Take a deep breath.” 
You obey, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.
“Why are you so combative today?” The rough edge falters for a moment when Jungkook confirms that he ‘just learned that word yesterday from a synonym website’. You giggle. Why must he be so adorable? “Don’t I always take care of you?”
“You do.”
“Do you trust me?” You nod. “Use your words, baby.”
“I trust you, Jungkook.”
“Good girl,” he smiles, making you face the glass again. His touch is much more gentle this time, guiding you with a delicate finger on your chin. “Don’t look at me,” Jungkook chuckles when he catches you staring at him and then points at your bewildered expression, “eyes on you.”
Despite the initial resistance, looking own reflection isn't as difficult as it was the first time. There’s little things you pick up on, like the way your thick, fluffy hair lays. The way your chest looks so supple pressed against his. How your hips curve out at the right angle. Your skin is smooth and poreless. That Laneige toner is really out here doing the lord's work.
“Look at how beautiful you are.”
Although Jungkook’s words are sweet, you wouldn’t go that far. But you guess, one could say you’re cute—which is more credit than you’ve given yourself in a while.
“Aren’t you so beautiful, baby?”
You hum to appease him, but this experience was definitely a start. You’re gaining self-confidence, one baby step at a time. “You’re beautiful, too.”
“You think so?” He asks airily, flashing one of those teeny tiny smiles he does, where only his two front chompers poke out. You swear this man is an angel, or some mythical being that was too ethereal to exist on planet Earth. Mumbling a small ‘uh huh’, you peck at the corner of his mouth. His silver hoop feels icy against your lips, but his hands, rubbing soothing lines up your back, are so warm. “I wish you saw yourself the way I do,” he says with sparkly eyes. “How could I want anyone else, Bambi?”
Your heart swells two sizes too big and you don’t even know how to respond. 
“Alright, space girl,” Jungkook chuckles at your ditzy state, delivering a quick swat to your ass to bring you back to reality. An impatient, tattooed arm is hooked under your thigh, tossing you to the side before he gets to his feet. “Lay down. ‘S been a while since I ate that pussy.”
“Wait,” you say, unphased by his lewd comment. “Can I…” you look down at his crotch, “you know?”
“What?” He smirks at your vagueness. “Suck my dick?”
Foreplay normally consisted of Jungkook’s head between your thighs, his fingers milking your g-spot, or a shy handjob here and there. Now that he’s your boyfriend, you suppose it’s finally time to return the favor. Especially since he looks so delicious with his messy hair and his pretty tits out. 
“Please,” you choke, cheeks burning with embarrassment at how quickly the plead slipped out. 
“You don’t have to beg,” he purrs, stepping between your parted thighs sat at the edge of his bed. You gulp, nose aligned with his growing bulge. “Actually, yes, you do,” he retracts, swiping his big thumb across your bottom lip tauntingly. You’re dripping, already knowing where things are headed. “Been a bad girl lately, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” you pout, shrinking under his beady eyes, peering right at you over his big nose. “But you said we’re passed that.”
“We are,” he agrees, “but I could use some reassurance. Wanna give me a little bit, baby?” 
“How?”
“Suck it,” he requests, tapping his thick digit against your deep frown, “show me how good you’re gonna blow me… just so I know…”
God, you can’t deny him. Not when his voice is drenched in lust and he looks that yummy.  Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you grab his wrist, taking his thumb into your mouth, all the way down to his palm. Moaning, you swirl your tongue around the pad. He plays along, plunging and pulling his finger into your wet suction. Your lips are going to look so fucking pretty around his cock, Jungkook thinks. 
“‘Kay, no more,” he says, voice strained as he yanks his hand away. The movement makes you accidentally bite your tongue. Asshole. He proceeds to tangle his spit-covered hand into your hair. Major asshole. With a thick fistful, Jungkook shoves you into his clean-shaven pelvis. “Am I hard yet? Check for me?”
He knows he’s hard. You know he’s hard. But you indulge him anyway, mushing a sloppy kiss into his v-line. The view of his eyes is disrupted by the heavy heaving of his chest, and his cute little nipples; spiked and erect. Dipping down, you place a loving peck on the tip through his pants. The red material is damp from his arousal. “Yep, hard.”
“Cute,” he laughs in reaction to how sweet and innocent you look down there. “Take it out, then.”
You tug his pants down, letting them pool at his ankles. His boner springs up with vigor, whacking you in the nose on its path up to his navel. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, smacking a hand over his mouth in guilt. You glare at him, suspicious of how genuine that ‘guilt’ really is. Something you’ve noticed about Jungkook is that his smiles reach his eyes first. You don’t need to see his lips to know he’s holding in a laugh. The little stars in his irises and the crinkles in the outer corners blow his facade. “You okay, Bambi?”
“Control your dick, Jeon,” you sneer.
“Can’t,” he pouts, wrapping his palm around his tree-trunk-sized base while kicking his pants aside, “he wants you.” You’re impressed at how quickly he steers the conversation back to sex. Also, personifying his dick? That’s new. Clicking his tongue, Jungkook measures his hard cock across the length of your face. If it wasn’t for the curve, his pretty pink tip would be touching your hairline. “How’s he gonna fit, baby? You sure you can take it?”
The questions were rhetorical, purely dirty talk, but they held a piece of the intimidating truth. “I don’t know,” you respond honestly. 
“Have you ever done this before?” Sensing your nerves, he pulls back a bit.
“Only once,” you shiver, recalling the questionable memory. “So I don’t know how good I’ll be at this…”
“Pfft,” he dismisses your concerns, “don’t worry about that.” He pets your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch, thankful for the comforting gesture. Then, Jungkook plops down, shimmying up the bed clumsily until he’s hunkered down in his pillows. Following suit, you turn to face him and begin tying your hair up. 
“Wait!” He hollers, stopping you at the elbow. His eyes widen at his own unexpected outburst. “Leave it, please. I like it down…” he coughs, “so pretty.” 
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your frizzy baby hairs shooting wildly in all different directions. Pretty? Regardless, you let go, messy strands falling in loops against your chest and back.
“I have flavored lube if that helps. In my nightstand.”
Of course, Jungkook owns flavored lubricant. It's pretty on-brand for him. But your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you open his top drawer, unveiling almost an entire Adam & Eve store. 
That’s a stretch and you’re dramatic.
Still, you stare in wonderment. There’s an unopened pack of condoms, ‘ribbed for her pleasure!’ printed on the front in purple letters. The blue and white wand next to it makes you choke. The Hitachi. It’s much bigger than you expected, but it makes sense. If it’s as powerful as Jungkook boasted, it must need a fucking car battery. You gulp. 
“Snooping through my things, Bambi?” 
“No,” you squeak, shaking your head. “You have quite the collection here, Mr. Jeon.”
“Mr. Jeon, that’s sexy,” he laughs, making you jump with an unexpected smack to your ass. “See anything you like?”
Cheeks ablaze, you stay focused, finally spotting the little aqua bottle of… blue raspberry flavored lubricant? You pick it up, causing a shiny piece of metal with a little glint of pink to roll out.
“Really, dude?” 
Jungkook’s brows furrow in confusion until he sees the silver butt plug, decorated with a pretty pink gem on the end. Absolutely perfect for you. “Oh, yeah,” he snatches the toy from your clammy hand and eyes it with pride. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“I can’t believe you actually bought one.”
“Why not? I said I was going to.”
“I know,” you huff with a nervous snicker, “but I didn’t think you were actually going to do it.”
“I mean,” he looks at you like you’re brainless, “you like anal, no?”
“No!” You shriek defensively. Anal play wasn’t even on your sexual radar...
Well, that’s not entirely truthful.
You enjoyed it the last time you had sex with Jungkook, in the shower, getting stretched out by his thick thumb in your butt. You remember how mindblowing and pleasurable it felt to be full. “Well, maybe. I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” he smiles reassuringly. “We don’t have to use it. I just figured it’d be nice to have, in case you wanted to experiment, you know?” 
He’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes you ill. 
Now that you think about it, your sexuality is basically untapped. You’ve barely scratched the surface of self-discovery. Before Jungkook, you’ve never had a man care about your pleasure, or encourage you to take risks for your own sake. No ulterior motives. Being with Jungkook was like skydiving. Horrifying at first, life-changing once you took the plunge. With him, the parachute was there whether you decided to jump or not. You know that you’re safe, so why not take the plunge?
“Actually, Jungkook,” you stammer, “I kinda wanna try it… the butt plug.”
“You sure?” 
“I’m positive.”
The conviction in your voice is like a beautiful ballad in his ears. Brick by brick, you’re opening up. Every day spent together, the walls erode a bit more. 
“I got the smallest size I could find, see?” He holds the toy up to his thumb to demonstrate. It’s only a little longer, a little thicker. “So it’s not that far off from what you’re used to.”
“Thank you, baby,” you gush, planting a fat kiss on the dough of his cheek. The contrast between his bready, baby face and his razor-sharp jawline makes you dizzy. You need him in your mouth asap. “Can I suck your dick now?”
“Absolutely, but first can you-,” his index finger twirls in a circle. You blink at him blankly. “Ah, fuck it.” Deciding it’d be much easier to move you himself, Jungkook sits up at the waist to spin you until you're face to face with his third leg, resting patiently against his stomach. The modified 69 has you creaming. “Like that…” he mumbles dreamily, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your track pants, tugging them down your thighs to expose your perky behind and glowy cunt. 
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Innocent little thing…” he whispers, smoothing a palm over your lower back. He leans up to chomp on the fat of your ass cheek, leaving bunny-toothed dents in your skin. A predator eating its prey. “Want help?”
“Please,” you mewl, melting under his touch. 
“Spit,” he orders, cupping an inked hand under your mouth. Reluctantly, you spit into his palm. He uses your saliva to wet himself, coating his unbearably hard cock with a few languid pumps. Opening the cap, Jungkook squirts a little drop of lubricant onto his finger. “Taste.”
You softly suck on his fingertip. The liquid is sweet like a blue raspberry jolly rancher, but it’s not nearly as sweet as Jungkook’s deep guttural moan and hooded gaze. So worked up just for you. Only you. Yours.
“This, too,” he coos, bringing the butt plug up to your lips, “suck it.”
Seeing him this needy and touch-starved was doing things to you. Maybe you should ignore him more often, if it meant that he would be this feral. You comply, wrapping your lips around the icy metal.
“Being so good, baby,” he affirms, resting the drenched plug against his solid stomach before squirting a generous amount of lubricant onto his length, tugging until he’s glistening with a sticky blue sheen. Big and pretty. “Just start with the tip, alright? Go slow.” 
You nod, mesmerized by the little bead of dew resting on the slit of his pretty pink head. Well, it’s a bit blue now. Cotton candy. Yummy. 
“Stick your tongue out.” You do, hovering closer. Jungkook taps his length against your tongue with nasty, wet smacking noises. “You want me so bad, don’t you?” 
You nod impatiently, making your flat tongue brush against the crown of his leaking cock
“Fuck,” he groans, “put it in your mouth.”
There are a few reasons why you find blowjobs problematic. Unfortunately, you were cursed with an annoyingly overactive gag reflex. Very unideal for dick sucking. However, your primary concerns were taste and texture. But Jungkook’s cock feels like butter when you take it into your mouth. Smooth and silky. And the lubricant made him candy-flavored.
“You like that taste, Bambi?” Jungkook chuckles at how eager and dutiful you look, licking and sucking on his swollen tip like a lollipop. You hum in response, slowly swirling your tongue around his tip with purpose. Giving you a hand, literally and figuratively, Jungkook starts stroking the shaft, stimulating the parts of him you have yet to gobble up. “Want more?” You’re not sure what he’s referring to, but you agree anyway, completely entranced by him. With that, Jungkook squeezes under the tip, and you feel a tiny burst of precum hit your tastebuds. 
He’s so sexy you could die. 
Moaning, you clench your thighs together for some much needed friction, causing a single drop of wetness to trickle down your leg. Right before his very eyes. He’s never been so hungry, and it would be so easy to just…
“Jungkook!” You moan so loudly you’re sure everyone on campus can hear it. He had laid his tongue flat, trailing your arousal back up to your pussy and then sensually dipping between your folds in one hot lick. He even traces higher, prodding against your other hole until you’re seeing stars.
“Watch your teeth,” he winces when you get carried away, “be gentle, baby.” Peeping a shy apology, you curl your lips over your teeth and slide down past the tip until you’re halfway down his length. You focus on your breathing, nostrils expanding as you inhale deeply. “That’s it, take more.” 
So captivated by his ‘yeahs’ and ‘uh huhs’, you miss the sound of a cap clicking open. Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle slide between your cheeks, before a pair of warm hands spread the slippery substance all over. He uses the residual to thoroughly coat the butt plug. 
“Gonna put it in now.” He spreads you open with one hand, pressing the silver against your clenched muscle. “Let me know if anything feels off.” 
The initial push is a bit much. You pull off of him with a wet pop, whimpering as he sluggishly inserts the foreign object. He stops at the sound of your whines. 
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah- fuck,” you grunt, “big, thas all. Please, keep going.”
“I mean, it’s not that big,” Jungkook chuckles, running some saliva over the toy for more moisture, “you’re taking it well, though.” Slowly but surely, he works you open. The noises you moan around his cock are obscene. Not because it hurts, but because it’s so satisfying. 
“Feels good, Koo…”
“Sheesh,” he breathes, staring in astonishment at the pink gem in your ass, “it’s so fucking pretty. So sexy.” In his fucked out, head empty state, Jungkook bucks up, shoving all eight of his curved inches down your throat. He doesn’t realize what happened until you pull off with a gag and teary eyes. 
“Bambi,” he coos wearily and fear ridden. “I didn’t mean to do that, I swear.” 
You send him the meanest, fiercest glare you can conjure up, hoping his conscience burns just as much as your throat does. 
“No, come on,” he pleads in despair, reaching for you as you crawl away, “I’m sorry. It was an accident. I wo-,” 
You shut him up by hoisting a shaky leg over his hip, straddling him. “You really can’t control yourself, can you?” You hover over him with a teasing smile. How could you possibly stay mad at him when he looked like Tuxedo Mask? The dreamy love interest of your favorite cartoon. 
He sighs in relief, panic leaving his body as fast as it came. “No, I can’t,” he smiles softly, shaking his head and snaking both arms around your waist, “not with you.”
And at that moment, you swear you’ve never been happier. 
The closeness you felt was indescribable. Not physically, although his python grip was warm and comfortable. It was all emotional. You’re spiraling out of control, heading flipping and stomach somersaulting, but it’s okay—a contained type of chaos. Jungkook feels it too. The shift in the air. The subtle, yet painfully obvious, change in your dynamic. You’re different this time around. A little more outgoing. A little more fearless, as you sit on top of him. He loves it. He thinks he might even love…
“You gonna ride me, Bambi?”
“Mhm.” You feel like a schoolgirl again when you kiss him. That nervousness, wrapped in unbearable excitement, whenever you passed your first crush in the halls. Yeah, that's how you feel right now, looking down at the most stunning person you’ve ever experienced. 
Sparks. Fireworks. Butterflies.  
You and Jungkook exchange shy smiles when your hands touch, reaching for his erection, desperate to close the gap and become one. So ready to connect your bodies, minds, and hearts in the most intimate way. Clumsily, you fail at first. You’re both so wet that his flushed tip slips, completely missing your entrance and sliding past your clit. 
“Sorry,” you chirp abashedly. 
“That’s okay,” he pipes, holding himself up for you, “try again.” Just the thick head of his cock resting against your folds is enough to know that there’s going to be an adjustment period. A stretch. There always was, Jungkook is fucking huge. But you have a feeling that this new position would hit differently, making him feel bigger, harder, longer. With a firm grip on your hip, he guides you down onto his piercing length. A symphony of moans and sighs fills the room. 
“How’s that?”
You’ve never felt so full.
The butt plug makes the squeeze even tighter, pushing his cock right into your g-spot. The burn ignited a mind-numbing fire inside of you. That, or he was just so deep that you felt him in your stomach. “‘S okay,” you whimper, gnawing on your lip and clinging onto him for stability, “really deep like this, Koo.”
“Take your time,” he gruffs, wincing under the dig of your petite fingers, making little crescent indents in his biceps. Amid sex, the tension in your body served as a reminder that you’re still learning. He was doing his best to be good, but the way your pussy just swallowed him up like that, triggered something primal. Tightest, wettest pussy he’s ever had the blessing of penetrating. Biting his tongue until his mouth tastes metallic, Jungkook battles the urge to thrust up into you until you’re dumb and drooling. He’s trying so hard to be good. The internal struggle is heard in his voice when he speaks, strained and gravely. “Start slow.” 
Eventually, the tiny licks of pain transform into a milky, insatiable hunger. When you look down at him, all you see is the base of his thick neck, head thrown back as he succumbs to the gratification of your walls. ‘Wow, what a man,’ you think to yourself. Your man. Encouraged by your eagerness to please, you begin sloppily jerking your hips at a fast pace. No flow or rhythm. 
“Easy, easy,” Jungkook shushes with a grin, stopping you at the waist. “Why are you in such a hurry, hm? We have all night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” he laughs, grabbing the shaky hands that are resting awkwardly on your thighs. “Let’s get your form right first. Lean on me.” With the command, your palms are placed flat on his broad, solid pecs. Already, the angle and leverage work with his curve deliciously. “And it’ll probably feel better for you, if you moved like this instead,” Jungkook grips your ass, rocking you into a grinding motion. Instead of up and down, your cunt drags back and forth on his throbbing shaft. 
He’s right. It feels so much better like this. The dreamy sensation has you moaning and moving like a pornstar. 
To be honest, this wasn’t even the type of video Jungkook clicked on when looking through his PornHub feed in the mornings. Absently scrolling past orgies and blowjobs like the daily newspaper. He preferred things fast. Pummeling every inch into you before pulling out swiftly, leaving only the very tip inside to keep you needy and begging. But fuck, the slow, sensual rolls of your hips were turning his brain to mush. And the way you’re dripping down his balls might make him demote missionary to his second favorite position. He’s hypnotized, staring up at your perky tits, rippling and bouncing freely above him. 
“Yeah, baby…” you cheer, carding your fingers through his thick, healthy hair as he sits up at the waist, latching onto your nipple. The gentle runs turn into harsh tugs when he takes the sensitive teat between his teeth. The overstimulation makes you hiss. 
“Taste so good,” he huffs, “I can’t keep my mouth off of you.” Slicking his wispy bangs away, Jungkook leans back, stealing a naughty peek at you fucking yourself on him. Using him just how he likes. He spreads his legs apart, praying it’ll help you sink down even further, if possible. “Yeah, take it all…”
“Love taking it all…” 
That hot, gooey ballooning is already forming in his balls. The pooling in his shaft is a warning; he’s going to bust soon. Jungkook maintains a strict ladies first policy, so he needs to think of something. Fast. A lightbulb switches on in his head when your neglected clit glides across his smooth pelvis. 
“Hold on.” With a hand on your lower back, Jungkook squeezes you against him, preventing you from toppling over as he leans to the side and fiddles around in his special drawer. You gulp when he takes out the infamous vibrator. 
“You look terrified,” he jokes, pointing out your fearful gaze and plump lips, currently forming a cute little ‘o’ as you observe the wand. 
“Hm, I wonder why?” You scoff at him in fiend ignorance. “Oh, it’s superrr strong, most girls don’t even last five minutes,” you mimic in your best Jeon Jungkook impression. Voice dropping an octave to match his deep, even tone. You think it’s pretty accurate, but his melodic giggles say otherwise.
“I mean, it is,”  he confirms, powering on the vibrator, “but there’s different settings, like, here’s the lowest.” The white crown is placed on your inner thigh, letting you get accustomed to the movement before he uses it to destroy you, and your most private areas. The low rumble travels up the muscle in your leg until it reaches your clit with a faint hum. “See? Not bad, right?”
Wrong. 
The lack of foreplay on your end, had you teetering on the edge. So when Jungkook presses the strong, creamy buzz to your swollen bud, you’re a goner. 
“Fuck!” You wail. “This is the lowest speed?”
“Tell me how it feels.”
“I- oh!” Evilly, Jungkook moves the toy down, nudging the rounded corner underneath your hood, directly stimulating your little bundle of nerves. “I… don’t know… can’t… think right now…”
“Have nothing to say now, huh smart girl?”
Oh, so this was your punishment. 
If you could even call it that. You’ve never felt so fucking good. 
The rapture coursing through your vein forces you to stop, clawing at Jungkook’s shoulders. He picks up where you left off, rutting into you with vigor, hitting all of your sweet spots perfectly. That, combined with the smooth plug in your ass and the vibrator on your clit, has you overwhelmed and out of control. 
“Fuck! Jungkook, I can’t- too much.”
You’re cumming before he even has the chance to object. Thighs quivering. Arms shaking. Eyes rolling back into oblivion. The darkness is disrupted by lightning bolts of white, hot pleasure. Your entire body tingles like you’ve just stuck your acrylic into an outlet. Jungkook guides you to the light as you brace the crashing tsunami of your orgasm. 
A literal tsunami.
“You squirted.”
“I did?”
“A little.” Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to witness it. Just relished in the warm splashes on his pelvis, his upper thighs, and his cock. You nuzzle into his shoulder, groaning disgruntledly in shame. Jungkook humors you by resting his cheek on top of your head, swaying subtly as he holds you. “Guess you’re not my Bambi anymore. Deer can’t swim.”
“They can swim,” you murmur. “You don’t shit about deer, Jungkook.”
“You’re more like a fish or something,” he coos happily, ignoring your correction. “...Ponyo.”
“You like Studio Ghibli movies?” You ask, picking up your heavy head and looking at him with big, animated eyes. “Since when?”
“Since before my balls dropped,” he responds curtly.
“I didn’t know that…” 
“I think there’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, baby.” 
There’s no malice in his words. They’re not a sneaky jab, or an attempt to make you feel guilty. They’re just the truth.
“Can I ask you something, Kook?”
“Of course, you can,” he hums, friskily nipping at the apple of your cheek. 
‘Do you like anime in general? Or just Studio Ghibli?’
‘If so, what’s your favorite? Oh my God, this is so exciting!’
‘Is that your dog in those pictures?’
“You’re crazy, and yes, that’s my dog,” he chuckles at your endless string of curiosity. “But how about I nut first?” As if on cue, his member twitches inside of you, reminding you that he’s still hard and waiting patiently for his release. “And then you can interview me. Sounds good?”
“Yes,” you say, cheeks scalding. “Sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry,” Jungkook repeats, pecking you lovingly. "I'm gonna lay you down now..." Strategically, he maneuvers you onto your side, plopping down behind you. You curl into his frame, back arching with the rise and fall of his panting chest, his beautifully sketched arm wrapped around your waist. The other rests on the bed, sticking straight out for you to use as a pillow. Your top leg is thrown over his hip, spreading you enough to run his length over your puffy cunt. Grabbing the Hitachi, he brings it back to your engorged clit. The touch makes you yelp. 
“Mm, I love how sensitive you get,” he whispers, licking a hot, needy stripe against your cheek. You peep out a confused noise, cowering under his tongue. Yuck. He’s so gross… but so sexy. “It’s not even turned on yet, baby. What would happen if I put it all the way up?”
“I think I’d fall in love with you…”
His heavy breaths stop as locks eyes with you. You can't distinguish the iris from the pupil. It all blends together like the night sky, filled with little stars of raw emotion. He’s pondering something, dewy lips parting and closing as the thought fades. 
Nothing is said, but you don't mind. Because when he enters you, rocking into you with languid, passionate thrusts, you feel it. The unspoken words surround you like the weather. They’re warm like a summer breeze.
“Mine, isn’t it?” He speaks against your lips, Hitachi set to the max, going full throttle on your nub. “Say it.”
“This pussy is yours,” you cry, crystal streams clouding your vision and streaming down towards his arm.
“Not that,” he chokes through gritted teeth, trying to postpone his orgasm. Waiting for you to say the magic words and open Pandora’s box. “You, baby. Tell me that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Yeah,” he nods, lips curling in as he bathes in your dripping cunt. His strokes become short and uneven as he reaches the point of no return. “I’m yours, too.”
The declaration of reciprocal affection and want fills your chest before shooting to your core. You cum together, sighing into each other's mouths as pure, intense bliss takes over every square inch of your body. Every cell tingles. You try to kiss, but the seal of your lips is broken by your needy cries. During the mutual orgasm, Jungkook trembles. Chest, legs, and arms all quivering in unison as he milks both of you dry. Painting your walls with warm, white spurts until he has nothing left to give. The Hitachi isn’t turned off until you beg. 
Euphoria. 
When you’re done, neither of you can bring yourself to disconnect. Sex left your sweaty bodies idle and fucked out, but the intimacy of it all kept you rooted in place. Airy kisses are planted on your shoulder. Light scratches outline his tattoos. His seed is hot inside you in the most disgustingly comfortable way. You don’t move for a while, laying in each other's aura until the rain clouds fade and the milky way can be seen by the naked eye. Twinkling lights of stars and headlights flicker against his skin as you count his breaths. They grow more steady as the minutes pass. 
“I have a plan.”
Intrigued, you crane your neck, quirking a brow at the man behind you. “A plan?
Without warning, Jungkook expertly gets to his knees. Your ankles are hauled up by your head, manicured toes tickling his cotton pillowcase. Folded in half at the waist.
“Jungkook!”
“Bambi,” he huffs above you, softening cock still tucked inside of you. “Hold your legs for me.”
Oh. You know what he wants.
“Baby,” you giggle flirtatiously, hands curling under your thighs to keep them in place, “what are you doing?” He must want another round. Excitement bubbles in your squished chest and cramped stomach at the thought of having him twice in one night. 
“If you stay like this, I should be able to run to the bathroom without getting cum on my bed.”
“Are you kidding me?” You spew in disbelief and disappointment.
“Baby, please,” he groans with pleading eyes. “It’ll take two seconds, I promise.” 
“Fine,” you oblige with an overexaggerated pout, “but hurry. This hurts!”
With your permission, he scurries off into the bathroom. A light turns on and the faucet runs. He must be getting something to clean up with. Despite your best efforts, and the ache in your bent neck, his baby juice leaks out of you, cascading down your butt with impeccable speed.
“Jungkook, It’s dripping!” 
The door slams against the wall with a loud thud as he bursts through, wet cloth in hand. A second too late. “No!” He sighs in annoyance, dropping to his knees on the mattress, angrily watching a fat white droplet splash onto his black comforter. “Really?”
“What was I supposed to do?” You shout back playfully. The whole situation was dumb and immature, but you can’t stop laughing. You cackle like a madwoman when he runs the damp towel through your folds. “‘M ticklish,” you respond dazily when he raises a brow at you. The giggles turn into a sharp hiss when he slowly removes the plug from your swollen hole.
“Does it hurt?” Jungkook coos, spreading your cheeks to get a better view of the slightly red, inflamed area. 
“A little, but I’m okay. I promise.” 
“Good,” he hums, smacking your ass, hinting that he wants you off the bed. “Go pee while I change the sheets.”
There’s a change in your appearance when you look in his bathroom mirror. The girl reflected, wearing her boyfriend’s black, pine-scented, oversized hoodie, seems… happy. She is happy. The resting bitch face that Mina often teased you for is completely gone. All you see is glowy skin, bright eyes, and puffy cheeks. A tiny hand comes up to massage them. Ow. They hurt from smiling so much. From laughing like a maniac. You’ve never seen yourself so lively. You’ve never felt so alive. 
With a content sigh, you skip back into the bedroom. 
Jungkook is already settled, snuggled under the clean bedding like a big baby. The sound of the door opening makes him jump, waking up from the two minute nap he accidentally fell into. Turning to you, he smiles lazily.
You’ll never get used to that face of his. That beautiful face.
“I’m knocked, Bambi,” he yawns, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”
Heart heavy with warmth, you climb between the sheets. You lay on your back, preparing for him to sink his head into your full breasts like feathered pillows. His favorite cuddle position. 
“We never ate the pancakes,” you frown, noticing the plastic bags on his nightstand when you reach over, shutting his lamp off.
“‘S okay. We’ll eat ‘em in the morning.”
“Ew, Jungkook,” you scoff revoltingly. “They’ll be rotten by then.”
“You’re rotten but I still eat you.”
Hm. Touche. 
“You know,” he lulls, lips smacking together. It’s a habit that only comes about when sleep clouds his mind. “I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met.”
“Liar,” you whisper with a smile, twirling the loose strands at the nape of his neck. Just the way he likes. “You called me a bitch, the day we met.”
“You’re so dramatic. I did not call you a bitch.” The way his tired, hooded eyes blare open at your false statement makes you laugh. “I said you were bitchy. There’s a difference.”
You recount the memory.
“You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?”
“But underneath that attitude… I don’t know- There was just… something about you. Something special. And I knew that I could bring that side out of you, eventually."
“Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you.” 
God, why are you so emotional today? 
Tears pile into your waterline. They’re not from sadness or anger. 
Laying in bed with Jungkook, who’s sighing peacefully as he drifts off to sleep, you can’t believe that this is your life. 
After a few minutes of silence, you realize that there’s no way you’re following him into dreamland. You’re way too wired and ecstatic. Who could blame you?
“Jungkook,” you whisper.
No answer.
“Jungkook.”
A grunt of acknowledgment. 
“Are you awake?”
“No…”
“But you just responded, though...”
Silence.
“Can we watch Sailor Moon?”
Crickets.
"Jungkook?"
“Baby!” He whines, high-pitched and huffy as he turns his head in frustration. “‘M sleepin’!’”
“Jeez,” you roll your eyes, still sluggishly playing with his dark ropes. “Someone’s grumpy…” 
There’s another beat of silence before he speaks.
“Fine,” he groans dramatically, twisting back to his original position with a smushed frown against your boob. “I’ll watch one episode. One.” 
You squeak excitedly, pecking the top of his head in appreciation, pulling out your phone and turning on your favorite series with glee. He puts up a good fight; loopily murmuring ‘wow’ and ‘no way’ whenever you share a little fun fact about the character lore. Halfway through, the sound of Usagi and Rei arguing is overtaken by Jungkook’s soft snores. 
Soft for now. You know once he hits the REM phase, he’ll turn into a lawnmower. 
With a defeated sigh, you close the streaming app and put your phone away, cuddling closer to your boyfriend. 
Your boyfriend. 
You're dying to finish the season. At this rate, it's going to take you guys forever to watch Sailor Moon in its entirety. But that’s okay, you suppose, because forever with Jungkook doesn’t sound that bad at all. 
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it's requited love yall :')
© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]
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gildeddlily · 1 year
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Dazai haters, Dazai lovers, why does it matter? (it's physically impossible to have a hate-or-love relationship with this man, how can you fucking choose)
so bullying Dazai is fun and we all know it cause... we've all done it at least one time, and the bullying dazai trend was spectacular (like kurapika down the toilet) but fr, I don't think people who love or hate him at 100% exist. well do you do alr, but really.
You can feel about that man in a lot of ways
you just don't care, like he's a good character, you understand him to a certain point, but you don't really care about him. he dies, alr it's sad, but non heavy crying
you just don't care in a more harsh way, you don't want to think about him and you leave him to the others out there. he dies, it's alr, everything for plot reasons/twists
you care more ab a death ant than him for bad reasons, like "he traumatized akutagawa" "he abandoned chuuya" stfu and go away we don't stan people who ignore characters' traumatic story and childhood and blame them for escaping toxic environmentsq
you care more ab a death cockroach, for good reasons, like you simply don't like manipulative/ smartass people cause you prefer other types of characters, or you recognize the fact he isn't a suicidal attractive fuckboy from a high school film who would stay alive only for you
you like him a lot. like in a traumatizing way. like you don't kin him, maybe you kin people like kenji or chuuya or kunikida, but you genuinely like him for some hidden reason
you could write an essay ab him, you relate to him but evidently don't really understand him since you're proud ab the fact you kin him. shame on you
you kin him and hate yourself for that, you understand and deeply hate him cause he like you fr (I love people) (not really)
you think he's a unbeatable god who could win against anyone, like half the cast couldn't punch him and break him in two pieces (ok maybe not half the cast but fr people think that Dazai could beat chuuya? strongest ability user/ martial arts master chuuya? no
you like him, you recognize his faults, but you prefer the soft hidden part (and I love you for that, people who think dark era Dazai is better scare me. we love light novels Dazai) (the soft part I mean. the "I basically fell in love with you the moment you kicked me for the first time. what beautiful memories")
(and stop I'm tired and I have school in like seven hours I need time to read ff and sleep)
I've always had conflicted opinion's about him, almost had all the ones I've so bravely listed (I blame my "akutagawa is a little innocent bean" period when I was like thirteen, don't shame me too much) and actually just like soft! light novels dazai and appreciate the complexity of his character. I still hate him cause manipulative characters are bitches to deal with, but always love for traumatized homosexual-in-denial man who would either kill or ignore me (and I'm not sad ab the second. sometimes I just wish I was him. like, first chuuya, then kunikida, then even sigma like stop collecting my bbgs, what am I supposed to do?)
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lazzies123 · 4 months
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I Finally Understand Love
God. I am sorry it took so long. All this time, you have always been there for me. Always. Even though I was distracted by life, you never abandoned me. You always keep me safe. Your love is unconditional. Your love is the highest love of all. No one can understand love until they learn to love you. I see much clearer now. The reason why my father is here, the reason why I am so addicted to playing video games, the reason why I met her. It was all a part of your plan. You gave me another heartbreak just to realise that you are here with me. I am so sorry it took so long.
My father. I always wonder how he manages to live so long without a purpose. Why it is me, I asked this so many times. I don't know a friend who needs to take care of their parents around my age. They get to live so freely during their teenage years, which I never knew how sweet being a teenager is. I never really travel with friends. I don't hang out with my friends during university. I don't buy things to please me. I don't date a girl like everyone else.
A friend once told me I lost so much precious momentum in life. For what? So that I could take care of my father. I do not really like it. It's crazy how jealous I was of my friends around my age. I don't really get the chance to do the things they do to enjoy a young life.
This is why sometimes, I wish my father would "rest forever." I wanted a "freedom." So far, I've been holding back. I want to buy something to please me. I wanted to hang out with my friends. I wanted to have a partner for life. However, I couldn't. Now, I see why. It is God's way of protecting me. Nobody knew how "free" I would be if I had a free teenage life. Maybe I'd end up drinking alcohol, having sex with many girls, and wasting my money instead of saving them. I've been a fool to be so distracted with life. I did not see something that was always there. God's love for me is endless.
Many times, I wonder why I decided to play video games. There were so many things to do. I think this is also another God's way to keep me "safe." Not going to lie. I have a high sex drive. Almost every night, I watch porn videos. Who knows. If I dated a girl, maybe I'd be a crazy fuckboy who could not control himself. Thanks to God, I was never given a chance. Even when I was in junior high school, God decided to close her heart to me. She was so pretty. I am sure I wouldn't be able to hold back if given the chance. I believe I would've fucked her a lot if God allowed us to be together. I am glad we didn't
Now, I am 27 years old. I've never had sex, I do not smoke, I do not drink alcohol, and I never touch drugs. Thanks to these, I save a lot of money. This money, I am thinking of keeping this money for marriage. I believe in God. He will give me a partner when the time is right.
Talking about getting a partner. I've been trying to get one. A friend suggested an online dating application, but it feels so wrong. I know my only media is through video games. Sometimes, it worked, but it never ended well. In this digital era, you could be interested in someone who lives far away. Different countries from where you are in. The problem with this thing is, it'd be a long-distance relationship. You never know. They can easily make you an alternative option while getting close to somebody else from their country. I hate being a second option. It is a waste of time. I wonder if this is God's other plan. He even gave me another heartbreak recently to see that God's love exists.
It's true that you are willing to get hurt for someone you care about. Finding someone who's worth it is important. However, I think only an idiot accepts getting hurt in an obvious way. In a love game, maybe I am an idiot. At the end of the day, I do not wish to be with someone who keeps me away from God. My love for a woman is big, but My God is greater than any woman in this world. I love God more than I love her.
Finally, I understand love. No man can love a woman as much as God loves us. Human's love can easily disappoint. We hurt each other every day. Only when we find someone worthy, will we stay. I've been trying to understand love, but I never knew the answer was very close. It's been there all along. The love I have been seeking, the love that never disappoints or hurts me, is the love of my God for me. I've abandoned Him so many times, so distracted with life. At the end of the day, I return to Him. God is still here for me.
God. She thought she had me in the palm of her hand, but she was wrong. I am yours. All this time, I have been yours. Thank you for taking care of me.
God, I love you.
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HOW TO PLAY WITH TROPES AND CLICHÉ CHARACTERS/ STEREOTYPES
One of the ways I get ideas to write, is that I take some characters I love and mix them with a trope I want to try out. Tropes are common expected plot devices. Some typical fanfic examples are Friends To Lovers, Fake Dating, Bed Sharing, Enemies to Lovers, Aliens Made Them Do It, Fuck or Die, sex pollen, etc. Tropes don’t always have to be cliched like these examples. But that’s how the term is used most often, I believe.
Trope inversion occurs when an existing trope is used in a story, but flipped on its head, defying the audience's expectations. Trope subversion is when the elements of the original trope might all still be present, but deconstructed. I haven’t really subverted or inverted many of tropes , and I would love to know more about how to do that. So I have picked up some tips and tricks. To be honest, I will probably mix the terms here. 
Now, I’m going to rant a bit about different terms, attempts at definitions and examples, so jump to my pretty awesome list of tips below if you don’t want to read all of this. 
Tropes are often based in archetypes - very broad, typical examples of a certain person or thing. Can be found in all cultures. Western descriptions of archetypes are King, Queen, Witch, Wise man, Joker, Hero/ Prince etc. More general descriptions are Sage, Innocent, Explorer, Ruler, Creator, Caregiver, Magician, Hero, Outlaw, Lover, Jester, and Regular Person. I have also seen the term used to describe elements/ roles in the hero’s journey. We have a Hero, a Mentor, an Ally, a Herald, a Trickster, Shapeshifter, Guardian and Shadow. I suspect that the suggestion that we only have 7 types of stories to tell, like Overcoming the Monster, Rags to Riches, The Quest, Voyage and Return, Rebirth, Comedy  and Tragedy, implies that these story types also are archetypical. We all use them, all the time.
Tropes often end up as stereotypes, that are very typical oversimplified ideas of a particular type of character/ thing. Clichés, basically. So when I talk about tropes I suppose I mostly talk about stereotypical tropes. Since the term tropes often are used to describe typical plots and storylines, I’ll sometimes talk about stereotypes when I describe commonly expected or cliched characters. Like The Chosen One, Damsel in distress, Manic Pixie Dream Girl. All of these things are basically tropes. Hell, I will probably throw around these terms and mix them horribly. Sorry about that.
Example: The Geek meets the Manic Pixie Dream, falls hard, and grows to appreciate more in life
Let’s say you have a character who is based in the Thinker/Scholar archetype, a person who is constantly in search of knowledge, who meets a Creator, a person who wants to make things. 
The thinker can easily become a Geek, and that’s a typical western trope. And we have stereotypes about the Geek having poor social skills, being serious and wise etc. and these ideas can become cliched, boring and overdone. Just like the Creator stereotype often can become the Manic Pixie Dream Girl. The stereotypical trope would be that the Geek meets the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, falls for this person against his best intentions and grows to see more to life than facts. 
Example: Isak and Even from Skam
You can write Isak from Skam as this Geek meeting this brighter than life Even, falling for him against his will and growing from that. In a way, Skam starts out a bit like that. Isak has expressed prejudices as “hipster wannabe movie makers” like Even before, but then he sees this gorgeous Even and falls hard. However, in Skam, Isak was never written as a pure Geek role. He was more a Geek/Hero/Jester with internalised toxic masculinity, forced independence and abandonment issues based in his Christian upbringing, friend group, being left by his father etc etc. 
While Even appeared at first glance as a Lover/Creator/ Hero or Manic Pixie Dream Girl, he gradually showed more and more cracks in the facade, tricking the viewers to think he was more a Shadow/Trickster character, or a possible Fuckboy, until it was revealed that he  was a more rounded character with a troubling background, mental health issues, fears and insecurities. To be fair, Skam did follow a trope of Isak growing as a person because he met Even. They got their romantic happy ending and the viewers got what they wanted. 
It was everything but boring, though.
When trope subversions or inversions don’t work
There’s a price to pay if you subvert a trope, especially if you do it at all costs - like when they they subverted 5 years of character building in the last season of Game of Thrones. The first season has an example of excellent trope subversion (Stark). However, to pull out the rug at the end like they did in the last season, and disappoint the viewers’ trust, is probably not the best way to do this. 
Twists and turns can fail if they seem to come out of the blue. It can be smart to add some small hints of novelty from early on in the story, especially if you’re writing tropes that people find a bit boring. You won’t lose bored readers and you will prepare them that something is going on. Also, it can be good to do the subversion early enough in the story to be able to make interesting changes. 
If you choose to subvert a trope it can sometimes be wise to show why you do something differently. Like, if you write a female character who turns out to not fit the norm in the Victorian era, for instance, it could be smart to explain how this character has become who she is. If she’s this badass character fighting for equality, where do these ideas come from? Or if you have this character surviving traumas, abuse and lack of love, how does he turn into an empathic, more or less likable hero?
A lot of disappointment with trope subversions, like in Avengers Endgame or the last season of GoT, feel worse because the the characters act out of character. If you try to write something true, with characters that seem real, consistent and believable, that helps.  
If you play with a trope it helps if you manage not to make it too pretentious. I can’t think of any examples right now, but I know I have experienced it. Trope subversions often have a hint of nod to the trope itself, and humour can help making the subversion work. Like if the villain comments on how villains typically loses, before actually killing the hero. Or kissing the hero, lol, but that’s another trope.
A lot of build up that fizzles out can be disappointing. If our Victorian badass character has, say, superpowers, she also should have a reason (a way to use them). The readers expect that. So if you play with that and she fails using them, they probably should end up important in the story in some other, surprising way. Same goes with a romance where there’s a lot of pining, tension, heartache and misunderstandings and these are not addressed. If you choose to subvert this trope, it’s probably smart to address these things in a new way. 
All in all, when you subvert a trope you often will have to tread carefully to balance between meeting the readers’ expectations and not meeting them. Remember that the story always needs a satisfying conclusion.  
Then again, some say even trope subversions are becoming new tropes, and that there’s no reason to subvert them. Could be.
No matter what, I like to play with stuff like this. So. Here are some ways you can play with tropes and archetypes and maybe get some story ideas. 
MY PRETTY AWESOME LIST OF HOW TO PLAY WITH TROPES
1 Subvert clichéd characters
You can keep some parts of the wise man archetype, for instance, and change other parts of it. Instead of writing a “wise old wizard” (like Merlin, Gandalf or Dumbledore) you can make the old wizard into a cowardly old idiot. Instead of writing the love interest as a hot hero-type, you can make him more of a charming dork who is impulsive but also smart, intuitive, caring and with insecurities (Even from Skam). Another typical example from fanworks is to subvert typical gender norm characterisation or typical top/bottom or dom/sub characterisation.   
2 Parody the clichéd character
Write the typical “Hero/Warrior” character and take it almost too far - like with Thor in the Avengers, or even better, Thor in the Sandman series. In Skam, several characters are taken almost too far like this - up until a certain point. Eskild is written as the “funny gay” until he gives Isak some serious advice, Magnus is basically written as a typical horny idiot until he tells Isak some truths about bipolar disorder. Vilde becomes a parody at times, as well, as several of the other characters. 
3 Deconstruct the cliché/ stereotype
Why is the villain a villain? Why is the comic relief a comic relief? Identify the attributes of a character type - say, the likable and frivolous Comic Relief character. For instance Chris Berg in Skam. Explain her in a surprising way - perhaps she’s not just a clown or a funny sidekick, but uses humor as a coping mechanism. Reveal something deeper and true about the character (Chris wants to be a good friend but doesn’t know how to do this because of reasons, clowns are often sad behind the joker mask, etc). Make readers wonder if they’ve misjudged the stereotype. This can sometimes work with typical fandom clichés as well. 
4 Lampshading a character or a trope
“Hanging a lampshade” is the technique of countering your reader’s disbelief in a character’s ‘reality’ by acknowledging how blatantly they fit a cliché. The would-be victim in a horror story trips while running away (as they always seem to do) but the would-be killer stops and comments it. Perhaps they say, “Oh, you’re going to trip and make this boring?” Another typical one is when the villain has captured the hero and the hero finds a way to escape while the villain has his big speech. I love subversions of that trope, like in Black Orchid where the villain comments it and shoots the hero without a speech (if I remember correctly). In a way, season 3 in Skam does something similar to lampshading. The season is written as an epic love story, but the characters comment this in different ways, talking about epic love stories, movie references etc. 
5 Turn the plot trope upside down
You can hint about a trope, than turn things around. Sometimes this is called baiting, or showing that the expectation was a red herring. For example, you can write a story where you set up a typical hero story but the hero befriends the dragon instead of killing it. Or maybe the dragon wins. Bed sharing and it leads to nothing. Fake dating where they stop lying.  A setup for a possessive jealous partner who doesn’t get possessive at all. Soulmate story where the heroes aren’t soulmates. An ugly duckling story where the makeover doesn’t really change anything. 
6 Parody the plot trope
Write the plot trope but amp it up and make it extreme. Fake dating going too far (whatever that means), or soulmate story where all the brutal implications are clear. Ending in disaster, most likely. I can’t think of good examples here but I suppose crack fics are a bit like this. Oh, and parodic horror movies. Parodic movies in general, probably.
7 Deconstruct the trope
Somehow make it believable that the story builds as it does, based in the background of this world, or the characters. If I use Skam as an example again, the plot in season 3 is a quite typical boy meets boy trope, strangers to lovers, and it includes tropes like personal growth, miscommunication to communication, but it doesn’t feel forced because the characters feel true and real and their actions make sense based on their backgrounds. We get the feeling that there’s something deep and true behind it all. Isak’s difficulties makes sense, and so do Even’s and it also makes sense that they get each other.  
8 Changing the point of view
This is a neat trick. You can pick any fairytale and make something new if you write it in the pov of the villain, or the jealous hindrance character, or one of the helpers. You can write fake dating viewed from the outside. Or a coffee shop story where you’re the guy washing the dishes, or perhaps the owner of the coffee shop, getting annoyed at the baristas flirting with the guests? Or a cute meeting where you’re a bystander watching someone crash into each other, and you almost piss yourself laughing. 
9 Switch a story element
You can put the whole trope into a new location, like a new time or place, and make a new type of story. For instance, a love story in space can give an interesting twist. You can write a fairytale set in modern time. Most AUs are switched story elements like these. The trope is still being as it is, so this isn’t really a subversion, but the trope is dressed up in a way that's unique.
10 Averting the trope
This isn’t really playing with the trope at all, since it’s just avoiding it. Like, writing an action movie with cars but without a car chase (oh puhlease that’s like a dream, I hate car chases). It is when you would very much expect the trope but despite there being plenty of opportunity for it, it is never used.  
That’s it. I probably mixed a lot of terms and ideas. I still hope you found some interesting ways to play with characters and plots. There are so many more ways to do this, but these are my tips, I sure had a lot of fun writing this. 
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risingsouls · 4 years
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Headcanon: Gohan
[So I had this thought about Gohan last night and again after seeing a manga scan from dumb Super that I’ve had on many occasions and have probably waxed on about here on twice as many occasions. While ranting to the two poor souls that suffer my bs more than most, I was discussing my experience as a Gohan Fan within the DB fandom, both here and outside of Dumblr. Of course, the fuckboy idea of hating Gohan because he wanted to be a scholar and gave up fighting (essentially) in canon and wasn’t another carbon copy of Goku and Vegeta came up, and I articulated my thoughts on it better last night than I think I ever have, so here I am, sharing this revelation.
So, if you’ve read my bio/verses for Gohan, I have maintained in my canon for him that he does try to keep up with his training along with his studies. Disclaimer: while it may seem like I share the same idea of hating that Gohan wanted to be something other than a fighter like mentioned fuckboys, I am here to vehemently say that it’s not true. Not in the same vapid way (and hate’s a strong word because I don’t mind that choice in canon because it does make sense. To a degree, which I will obvs go into now).
My original reasoning for this addendum to how canon handles Gohan post-Z that I’ve mentioned before is basically that, as much as he cares about those around him--friends or complete strangers--, it makes less sense imo for him to just stop altogether and just settle back into the “Dad’s/Goku’s got this” sort of mindset that prevails among pretty much all the Z warriors and co. With his failures with Cell and then again with Buu (i.e. letting his confidence get the better of him and losing the edge he had in the fights and costing innocent lives, including his father’s because of it), someone as empathetic and caring as Gohan wouldn’t just shrug those failures off; they would stick in his subconscious and haunt him, to be dramatic. He lived through an era where Goku wasn’t there to save the day (an era of peace, granted, if you don’t count the movies), so with these things in mind, it’s difficult for me to see him dropping training altogether. Would it be as intensive as Goku and Vegeta, or even Tien and Piccolo? Definitely not. But I feel like he would still try to train WHILE he pursues his dream of becoming a scholar.
(That part was longer than I meant to make it BUT HERE’S THE REAL BIT I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT)
The other revelation I had about this last night goes more into the decision from a writing stand point. The decision made in canon to have Gohan fully abandon his training like...defeats the whole purpose of his turning point when he fought Cell. You know, that big moment where he’s refusing to fight because that’s not who he is or wants to be and he wants peace and warns Cell not to anger him but 16 talks to him and, as his friends are being beaten to near death by the Cell Jrs, points out to him that there are people and monsters in the universe that do not care about peace or much of anything else. That there are times when it is okay and necessary to fight to protect the people and things you love. The conversation and moment that spurs his transformation to Super Saiyan 2 and gives him the power to beat Cell. To me, this is a moment and conversation that sticks with him throughout the rest of his life (I mean he becomes the Great Saiyaman to protect people and kick bad guy ass, an example of fighting to protect people, especially when they can’t protect themselves), and for him to stop training altogether just sort of takes the understanding he comes to, a pivotal change in his character that further sets him apart from especially Goku and Vegeta (as in, fighting as a need rather than an enjoyment of it), and sets it on fire. It really just takes an important moment and makes it near irrelevant. And that’s what irks me about that decision. Not because he’s not a badass meat head like his dad and Vegeta, but that, imo, it makes very important developments in Gohan’s character basically irrelevant. And I don’t see why he couldn’t balance both, damn it. xD]
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The past few weeks have possibly comprised one of the most intense news cycles since Donald Trump was elected to the presidency. The spectacle, drama, and emotion of Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh and Palo Alto University professor Christine Blasey Ford testifying before the Senate Judiciary Committee regarding Ford’s sexual assault allegations against Kavanaugh captured our attention and set off a wave of controversy and debate around difficult topics like sexual misconduct, white male privilege, and rape culture.
If you’re one of many people who’ve subsequently sought distraction from the news, both online and off, you’re not alone. And if you’re the type who finds solace in internet frippery, the memes of the moment are here for you.
From the lighthearted “Zendaya Is Meechee” to an outpouring of delight over the new Philadelphia Flyers mascot, Gritty, the breakout memes of the current news cycle have been notably apolitical, with a concerted emphasis on whimsy — a distinct contrast to the tone of world events. And last week, on the day of Ford’s and Kavanaugh’s testimony about her alleged sexual assault, meme threads like the one below sprang up as a proposed way to ward off the anxiety over what the hearings might entail:
We are starting a thread of pet photos, goofy memes, and wholesome jokes right the fuck now. Reply with content accordingly.
I will start off with this, which @PatriciaValoy sent to me earlier, and which kills me entirely. pic.twitter.com/1lIZxQoQr6
— andrea grimes (@andreagrimes) September 27, 2018
Increasingly, people appear to be using memes and cute pictures and videos to mitigate anxiety, as a form of wellness and self-care. For many, they offer a way to cope during times of tension and stress.
This trend hasn’t arisen out of nowhere — but there’s a reason it feels new. The mainstreaming of the “wholesome meme” is a specific response to a geopolitical era that is unprecedented in recent memory for its turbulence and polarization. And it represents a shift brought about by the natural evolution of the internet.
For as long as the internet has existed, memes have served as a shared form of currency. Historically, the most enduring and popular memes have tended to combine edgy humor, layered in-jokes that require multiple levels of understanding to be effective, and an element of absurdity or surrealism that reflects something about the internet’s randomness at large. Galaxy brains. Dead gorillas. Moths.
But roughly since the 2016 election, many of the memes that have risen to the forefront on social media have abandoned the irony, political satire, and nihilism we’re grown used to seeing. In an era when so many of us have accepted that everything is on fire and anything we love will inevitably become problematic, the memes going viral of late have been, dare I say it? Wholesome. Loving. Even comforting in their simplicity and silliness.
Recent meme trends over the past couple of years have found us praising good dogs and reconciling with our dog-hating enemies. We’ve been celebrating nostalgic songs that make us wanna dance. We’ve created whimsical nonsense songs based on animated kids’ movies. The emerging theme seems to be an emphasis on banality, on the pleasantly comforting and invitingly harmless. These memes are nice, and aggressively no more than that.
Additionally, the rise of “here’s a fun internet thing to help you get through the day” now seems to be a default way to respond to moments of stress. We’re turning to adorable animals and silly memes that are basically the equivalent of internet dad jokes — and sometimes are themselves dad jokes. They’re “Hang in there!” kitten posters for the digital age.
The changing nature of recent mainstream memes also reflects a shift in where they’re created and who’s creating them. Prior to the dominance of social media (which took hold in the late 2000s), memes that made the leap to mainstream internet culture — think anything that was passed along via email forwards — typically began on cult meme sites like Homestar Runner or YTMND, or on forums like Something Awful, 4chan, or Reddit.
Then in the mid-aughts, meme-specific sites like I Can Haz Cheezburger helped proliferate specific kinds of memes, mainly image macros — the classic “still photo with a caption emblazoned on it”:
Cheezburger
The gradual move away from 4chan as the progenitor of most of our memes is partly a natural cultural response to the evolving extremism that has taken over much of that site’s culture. The memes that are generated there today are more likely to appeal to a niche fringe of conspiracists and alt-right frog fans, and the people who once made mainstreamable memes on 4chan have largely departed for other platforms.
During the early rise of social media, between roughly 2005 and 2008, Reddit and Tumblr took over as the primary grounds through which memes were created, sourced, and circulated. It’s taken a while, but as Twitter has come into its own, evolving away from the era of Weird Twitter and its niche memetic rules, we’re seeing more and more memes originate and circulate on the site (though it’s also very common for “new” memes that go viral on Twitter to have already made the rounds on Tumblr).
And many of those memes are of the more wholesome variety.
My friend Amanda Brennan is a noted meme librarian, meaning she researches and catalogs the evolution and taxonomy of internet memes — she’s a curator of Tumblr’s fandom trends and a former contributor to the internet meme database Know Your Meme. She told me in an email that the “wholesome” trend in meme culture began to really pick up steam last year with memes like “My skin is clear, my crops are watered” — a text meme that facetiously pokes fun at the idea of the classic “forward this message/reblog for good luck” directive by presenting an image of something positive and then claiming that the image has cleared your skin, watered your crops, or brought you whatever piece of good fortune you might want in your life.
Indeed, one of the themes of Tumblr’s 2017 Year in Review was “wholesome memes.”
For Brennan, the proliferation of these memes is partly about authenticity — and the decompartmentalization of identity on the internet. “I think people are getting more in touch with presenting their authentic personalities online rather than presenting what they feel like they should be on social media,” she said. “On Tumblr, authentic actions come first. You’re there for whatever thing you love the most — animals, TV shows, musicians, your favorite ship. People are starting to realize that maybe it’s okay to be that authentic version of yourself everywhere on the internet.”
The shift in emphasis toward wholesomeness isn’t just affecting memes. The rise of the concept of the “soft boy” in pop culture, like To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’s Peter Kavinsky, has served as a counter to centuries of patriarchal depictions of masculinity in part because he is a nonthreatening version of manhood. Nurturing and emotive, the soft boy comes without built-in toxicity, at least ostensibly; though some observers are divided over whether he’s genuine or just another fuckboy in sheep’s clothing, he’s increasingly being framed and embraced as a sincere alternative to the red-pill-variety dude who just wants to use you.
The idea of “cinnamon roll” characters has percolated on Tumblr for the past few years as a testament to our love of characters who are defined mainly by their sweetness rather than their edginess. In sci-fi and fantasy fandoms, the concept of “hopepunk” has sprung up to describe an emerging trend of literature and media in which social systems and humanity itself are portrayed as fixable, if not inherently good.
In essence, these trends are part of a wider cultural reexamination of hurtful narratives, and a celebration of the marginalized people that those narratives have long erased or ignored. They also offer remedies for those narratives, through self-aware depictions of positive and inclusive ideas and social structures.
Memes have a natural role to play in that reevaluation.
“As internet culture widens and deepens along with the news cycle, more people are taking certain issues more seriously,” Brennan told me. “We all seem to seek out humor that’s light and fun for the sake of being fun.”
Sure, you might not believe that rating a dog 14/10 or celebrating this guy and his piano-playing cats registers as any kind of moral victory against countercultural extremism. But these small nods to whimsy, to gentleness, and to more vulnerable emotions are a vital reminder that humanity, despite all current appearances to the contrary, has evolved beyond fearmongering, violence, and hatred of the other.
When you sing “Zendaya Is Meechee,” you’re fostering the idea that humanity’s united appreciation of a silly song can be greater than its penchant for stoking tribalism and division. And at the very least, you’re finding support — along with everyone else who’s exhausted by the current culture wars — in something happy and fun instead of recoiling at the thought of, well, everything else.
And that’s an idea worth memeing.
Original Source -> The rise of the wholesome internet meme
via The Conservative Brief
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sincericida · 1 month
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ANDREW GARFIELD
and mystery woman was spotted grocery shopping in Malibu.
I’m very curious to find out who she is.
(source)
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