#and they are reminded of the toxic people THEY haven’t cut out of their own lives for various reasons

[stizzysupremacy]

Izzy haters would largely not think as badly of Izzy as they do if he was played by a younger guy with generically-handsome-tv-star good looks. his actions would not be so irredeemable to them. They’d be talking about a love triangle instead of izzy “getting in the way” of the canon ship.

[sexyandhedonistic]

How to Become the Most Iconic It Girl in Your Reality

A Guide to Bring Your Dream Self to Life

“You are already that which you want to be, and your refusal to believe this is the only reason you do not see it.” Feeling is the Secret Ch. 1

I. Introduction ✧

Hello, my loves! This guide will help YOU become the person you have always dreamt of being as the starring role of your reality. We’re going to cover so much so I hope you’re ready to bid farewell to the person you used to be and get ready to transform into the most desirable version of yourself yet. Whether you aspire to be an it girl, it boy, it person or it god, whatever your preferred title is, if you desire to be other than what you currently are, this guide is for you.

Note: this was written through a law of assumption lens so if you’re looking for a glow up post that tells you to eat fruit and cut off toxic people this is not the one. If you haven’t read my guide about the law of assumption or are new to it I strongly recommend you read that one first before reading further, as everything written later on will make much more sense that way.

A. What’s to come.

The comprehensive purpose of this guide is to help you become the person you have always dreamt of being and to remind you that you no longer need to be unhappy with who you are because you get to create your own reality, meaning that you get to define yourself. Not your environment, not your peers, you. Your upbringing may have persuaded you of the fact that you are undeserving of anything you could ever desire, but you don’t need to go another day feeling insecure, unloved and miserable. Life is your creation. The days of you being confined to the image others have imposed unto you are a thing of the past now.  I don’t know who you were before you opened this guide but that person isn’t you anymore. From this point on, you have been an icon from BIRTH.

B. Breaking down the terms “iconic” and “it”.

Before we start, let’s define what an iconic it girl is first.

To be iconic means to be impactful. What makes an icon an icon is the fact that they don’t live up to standards or expectations because they live by their own rules and are not afraid to deviate from the conventional. The difference between an icon and a non-icon is that icons aren’t all talk, they ARE about it. 

“It” refers to a prominent and commendable quality in an individual that evokes intrigue and admiration, especially one that makes said individual spectacular or exceptional. The it factor is subjective because different qualities instigate intrigue across different people. In the case of this guide, the IT factor will ultimately be up to you to define.

If we fuse both terms together with the law of assumption in mind, an iconic it girl is one who’s in total control of her reality. She’s a sovereign, she’s above everything and everyone and nothing can cause her to waver in her conviction. She’s the center of the universe and nothing can ever challenge that thought in her head. She calls the shots and she does what she wants. An iconic it girl is a trend setter. She doesn’t follow trends nor standards, she creates them. Nobody tells her what she can or can’t do and nobody tells her who she is because she has an established conception of herself.

C. Why be an it girl?

It girls tend to be the girls you either want to be or be with because they seem to have it all: wealth, beauty, sex appeal, allure, social circle, relationship, achievements and/or an interesting lifestyle. You see these girls on social media and you covet the lives they lead but you feel suppressed by your current circumstances because reality conditions your desires. If you want to change your appearance, you must be rich and if you want to be rich, you must work hard. If you want to be extroverted, you must change your personality and if you want to change your personality, you must step out of your comfort zone. That’s the reality of life because life operates by logic. But, guess what? You are not limited to what we once accepted to be the “reality of life”. We are infinite beings capable of everything we could ever desire in this world. Anything someone else is or has can also be you/rs and in this guide I’ll explain how you can.

Now that we have established what an iconic it girl is and why we can aspire to be one, we will now proceed with HOW to do it and more importantly, where it all starts.

II. Conception ✧ of self.

“It is our conception of ourselves which frees or constrains us.” - No One To Change But Self

Self concept is how you see yourself in relation to the world and how you see the world in relation to you. All the assumptions you carry about the two comprise your conception of self, which as a result fashions the experiences you have in your world. From the way people treat you to the way you treat yourself, all of it has originated from your assumptions which harvested your state which has become part of your consciousness (what you know to be a fact at this very moment). Whether your goal is to manifest being an it girl or anything else, it always goes back to changing your self concept first, which is nothing more than a state.

A state is an attitude of mind comprised of beliefs (assumptions) and when we desire to change our self concept, we adjust our state of consciousness. You may not feel exceptional nor as if you have the it factor as of right now and that is credited to the contents of your state of consciousness. If you want to become an iconic it girl, you must first change your state into one of an it girl. How do you change states? Through feeling, by I AM.

A. I AM.

“I AM wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, free, confined were first of all impressions or conditions felt before they became visible expressions. Your world is your consciousness objectified. Waste no time trying to change the outside; change the within or the impression; and the without or expression will take care of itself. When the truth of this statement dawns upon you, you will know that you have found the lost word or the key to every door. I AM (your consciousness) is the magical lost word which was made flesh in the likeness of that which you are conscious of being.”- Your Faith Is Your Fortune Ch. 6

I AM is a declaration of self through what you are aware of being. You are incapable of speaking about yourself unless your statement begins with I AM. Manifesting becoming an it girl is not about acquiring something, it is about being the person who has that something through whatever comes after I AM:

I have money -> I AM [in the state of being] wealthy

I have perfect grades -> I AM [conscious of being] a stellar student

I have a partner -> I AM in a relationship

“Become identified with that character and feeling and you will be amazed how quickly you will realize your dream. The only sacrifice you are called upon to make, is to give up your present concept of self and appropriate the desire you want to express.”

B. EIYPO.

"Blind man sees the world objective to himself, something detached from himself. When man begins to awake he sees everything subjectively related; everything he meets is part of himself, and what he does not now understand, still he knows that it is related by affinity to some as yet unrealized force in his own being." - The Pruning Shears of Revision

Everyone is you pushed out accounts for the notion that whatever we think or assume of ourselves is pushed out into the world and reflected back to us. This means that the people around you will see you the way you see yourself and treat you accordingly. We manifest 24/7 through our established assumptions, so whether you have accepted as a fact that you are loved by everyone you meet or you aren’t very likable, your circumstances will evince that. However, that is not to say you are not entitled to feel upset when someone disrespects you. Although this may be a difficult truth to accept, the purpose of acceptance of it is to feel and realize that we are above what people say or how they treat us rather than to feel inferior because of it. So, how do we take this concept into consideration when we aim to become an it girl? We simply accept it as yet another facet of our realities that we are in control of. How do you get people to stop seeing you as the person you no longer want to be anymore? By changing self first. When you begin to see yourself as an it girl, the world will see you as one as well.

"There is no one to change but self. All you need to do to make men and women holy in this world is to make yourself holy. You are incapable of seeing anything that is unlovely when you establish within your own mind's eye the fact that you are lovely."- No One To Change But Self

III. Imagination ✧ Optimize your creative power.

“Everything in your world that you behold, though it appears without, it is within, in your imagination. And this wonderful imagination of yours is Christ Jesus. Imagination is the actual habitation of every created thing. No matter what you see in the world, it springs from your imagination. So that's where you go, that's the workshop, the garden of God.” - The Pruning Shears of Revision

A wonderfully comforting aspect of the law of assumption is that we all possess the inalienable gift that is to be able to grant upon ourselves whatever it is we desire to have, do or be. No matter what it is that you want, be it factual or fictional, existent or nonexistent, you can have anything. It is possible to become the person you have always wanted to be due to the lack of limitations in imagination. If you can think it, you can become it. Whether you desire to look like someone, have a relationship that mirrors the one in your favorite k-drama with your celebrity crush or be exactly like your comfort character, I could go on and on with examples of whatever it is you can have, do or be because when I tell you that you are a limitless being, I mean it wholeheartedly.

I must emphasize and drive this point home. All is possible in the world. Every possible desired life aspect you could ever fantasize about in your imagination exists because creation is finished. Whether it’s your dream home, career, income, accomplishments, possessions, relationship, friend group, physique, personality, lifestyle whatever it is you dream of having is possible to be conscious of because there are a myriad of states for us to choose from. That state already exists like a suit that is waiting for you to wear it until it becomes a natural part of your consciousness.

Because of this, it naturally makes sense to acknowledge that we no longer need to be neither humble nor jealous of another. If we know we can have absolutely anything in the world, even something already in the possession of another, why would we?

With our wonderful human imagination on our side, we can transcend the limitations that surround us. Whether you desire to get accepted into an ivy league university two years early with a 2.1 GPA or eat endlessly without gaining a single pound and jeopardizing your health, your limitless self is capable of becoming conscious of it and more, so let your imagination run free devoid of any restrictions when you define your it girl. The presentation of any circumstances do not and will never matter. To be is as simple as asking yourself whether or not you want to be it.

IV. Inspiration ✧ Defining your it girl.

Now we’re getting to the fun part of this post because you get to use your creative power: imagination. Remember a few sections ago when we discussed what the IT factor is? This is where you get to determine what IT is. Let me remind you again, your idea of what an it girl is is subjective, so it won’t be exactly like someone else’s definition. It girl is not a mold in which you are expected to fit into. Whether you want an active socialite nepo baby city life or a secluded pastry-making book-reading cottagecore life, doesn’t matter. This is all about who you desire to be. With that, let’s get down on how to determine what your it girl self looks like.

A. Who do you want to be like?

What qualities in a person would make you perceive someone as admirable or inspiring? Hard work? Being multifaceted? Do they have a personality you wish you had?

Think of people you deem iconic or who you look up to and why you perceive them as such. Are they someone who’s successfully pursued a personal goal of yours? Is their career full of achievements?

Don't condense your inspirations to people, you can also take fictional characters into consideration. Whether it’s Maddy from Euphoria, Blair from Gossip Girl or Pooja from Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, think of the characters from your favorite films and tv shows for more ideas.

You can also consider some of the most popular archetypes across social/media such as the femme fatale, the socialite, the siren, the beauty and brains, any archetype that possesses a lifestyle or aura that you would like for yourself can also be taken into consideration.

B. Which trains would you like to possess?

Beautiful, magnetic, mysterious, seductive, desirable, alluring

Extroverted, fun, trend setter, admired, confident, charismatic

Intimidating, unapologetic, bold, unique, center of attention, 

Kind, soft spoken, empathetic, nurturing, humanitarian

Intelligent, articulate, ambitious, hedonistic, successful, perfectionist 

C. What are some interesting qualities/assumptions about you?

Always the life of the party

Speaks multiple languages

Excels at everything on the first try

Has a commanding presence

Loved by everyone and full of admirers

Everyone you develop an interest in always pursues you

People find you alluring and inspiring

Bearer of the Halo effect - receives advantages and special treatment just for being gorgeous 

Mastered or proficient in a specific subject/sport/language/instrument

Art connoisseur / literature, films, fashion, music, photography

Knowledgeable across different subjects / history, science, interior design, fragrances, wine, etc.

Knowledgeable in sophisticated fields / law, politics, economics, finance

Expert at a specific hobby or activity / chess, bridge, painting, sculpting, skating, singing, dancing

Skilled at / sewing, cooking, baking, knitting, makeup, styling, coding

D. Combine it.

Once I had an idea of what I wanted my new self to be like , I would refer to scenes in tv shows when a character is being introduced in third person as if they’re reading a profile about them. They don’t just name the character, they’ll list their background, their personality, what they do, what their interests are, etc. and then twist this for myself and imagine how I would like another person to describe me. I’ll list an example of what that would look like below:

[Note: to stay on theme I will be providing an it girl example, make this your own!]

One word to describe her? Extraordinary, but she’s too much to even conceptualize in a single word that it almost feels disrespectful to her. She either inspires you to be at her level or mortifies you for not being at her level. She's influential and enticing, opulent and godly. She has sky-high standards and smells like Tobacco Vanille. She always gets what she wants and doesn’t take no for an answer.  She studies hard in the daytime and attends prestigious social gatherings in the nighttime. She’s a polymath with an IQ of 168 who knows a little about every subject. Whether it’s foreign languages, interior design, pastry making or art, she’s full of knowledge and constantly teaches you something new. She’s innovative and always formulating progressive ideas which also makes her a trendsetter.  Whatever she does whether it’s a hobby or putting an outfit together she always owns it in her own unique manner. Because of that, her presence captures the attention of everyone in the room without her even saying a word. Her magnetic aura and sultry gaze make her irresistible to anyone who locks eyes with her. Men go crazy over her even though they know she’d never look twice at them. She’s witty and fun to be around.  She’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met before. In fact, you could copy her personality and style down to a T and you still would not be able to capture her essence. You can’t get her out of your head because her beauty, passion and determination make her unforgettable. 

Now that you have an idea of who your new self is, let’s talk about how to dump the old self.

V. Immolation ✧ Say goodbye to the old story forever.

“Man is not willing to outgrow, [and] yet he wants other things than those he has. But if you remain in one state, you will forever have to suffer the consequences of not being in another state. (From the “Hermetica”). If I remain in the state of poverty, I must suffer the consequences of not being in the state of wealth.” - The Art of Dying

A. No one to change but self (concept).

“Heretofore I thought I could change others through effort. Now I know I cannot change another unless I first change myself. To change another within my world I must first change my concept of that other; and to do it best I change my concept of self. For it was the concept I held of self that made me see others as I did.” - No One To Change But Self

I started this guide with self concept for a reason. If you want to create a change in your life you must first begin with self . As within, so without. An inner change must precede an outer change because we do not experience what we want, we experience what we are. Any attempt to change our worlds without changing ourselves is a mere delusion because the world will forever reflect back to us that which we are conscious of being. You want the world to know that you’re an it girl? Feel yourself to be an it girl first.

B. Forgiveness.

“You must learn to distinguish between the eternal human who occupies a state, and the state itself. This is the only means to forgiveness.”  - True Forgiveness

Forgiving is forgetting and forgetting is letting go. When you are able to feel yourself to be who you want to be, you let go of who you used to be. You no longer have to be somebody you don’t want to be because a change of state is always instant. Every day is a new day and every moment is a new moment. If you are currently a miserable person and then you decide you are not then you are no longer a miserable person because you chose to not identify with it. You are not your state and you cannot be affixed to any state you don’t want to occupy. You will always have the option to embody any state you would like to occupy. You can shift that immediately through forgiveness and intention. Through forgiveness, you create the severance between the state you were formerly in and the state of an it girl. 

C. Regret no more. 

“Do not waste one moment in regret, for to think feelingly of the mistakes of the past is to re-infect yourself.” –  Feeling is the Secret

I’d like to take this moment to tell you that regret doesn’t need to be a thing anymore because you can revise the past. That hobby you wanted to pursue but gave up on? Your GPA that you can’t go back and fix? The best friend you miss? Do you remember when you wanted to start drawing but then you stopped? Or when you did ballet when you were younger and never continued? Remember when you started learning Spanish and then gave up? You don’t need to feel regretful anymore because you can revise all and reshape the past to be in harmony with the it girl that you are. Whether you wish you had grown up wealthy or with a specific skill which would later become your passion, absolutely every aspect of your life can be adjusted. There’s no need to resent the past because it is not set in stone.

D. Let go of the external.

I urge you to not let anything outside of you define you or your life. Whether it’s the tarot deck, the tea leaves or a birth chart, none of those sources have a say in what your life looks or will look like. There’s no such thing as a predetermined fate for you. Every single aspect of your world is malleable at your command, so give up the idea that there’s any other force in the world capable of interfering with your desires.

VI. Reincarnation ✧ The birth of a new you.

“You must this night – not tomorrow – learn the technique of writing your own obituary and so completely die to what you are that no man in this world can tell you where you buried the old man.” - Consciousness is the Only Reality

A. A newly acquired mentality.

It’s time to step into your power and see yourself as the GOD that you are. You no longer need to live by the limitations the world has convinced you exist. You don’t need to do or be anything/one you don’t want to do/be and more importantly you do not need to settle for anything that doesn’t live up to your expectations. If you don’t like something, it doesn’t need to be a thing. Think about it being as simple as blocking someone, you are not gonna annoy me in MY reality.  Starting today, you get to decide who you want to be and who or what gets to be a part of your life. Again, this is YOUR world, YOUR reality and everyone else is simply living in it. Why should you ever worry your gorgeous self about anything not going your way if this is your world? You’re the one on the pedestal and whatever you say must go. 

Imagine telling a person exactly that, This is your world and everyone else is simply living in it. We are at such a huge advantage with the law of assumption because you don’t even need to be concerned with the course of action, you just need to focus on being (I AM). When you talk to people through the confidence of knowing that every single one of your goals is absolutely achievable, because through the law of assumption they always are and always will be, it is very easy to appear as confident to the average doubtful person. Everyone around you carries the idea with them that failure and rejection are always possibilities. You’re not like them, though. You’re completely limitless. You can excel at whatever career you want to pursue, you can date anyone you point your finger at, you can possess all of the riches the world has to offer and there’s no need to be humble about it. You are THE it girl, after all, are you not? All we’re stating is facts.

B. You cannot serve two masters.

“If you are dissatisfied with your present expression in life the only way to change it, is to take your attention away form that which seems so real to you and rise in consciousness to that which you desire to be. You cannot serve two masters, therefore to take your attention from one state of consciousness and place it upon another is to die to one and live to the other.” - At Your Command Ch. 2

In other words, you cannot sustain two polarizing states at once and you cannot take any part of the old state into the new state. If you want change, you must be loyal to it. You must be so committed to it that you have no space to even consider the old story because it doesn’t matter in the slightest anymore. Fall in love with your new state of consciousness that you are willing to be devoted to it no matter what. Leave the old in the past so the new can take its place.

C. Feeling the wish fulfilled.

“You must assume that you are what you want to be and continue therein, for the reality of your assumption has its being in complete independence of objective fact and will clothe itself in flesh if you persist in the feeling of the wish fulfilled” - The Power of Awareness Ch. 21

Capturing the feeling of the wish fulfilled is utterly essential, no matter what it is that you desire to manifest because the process will always be the same. First we must assume ourselves to be that which we desire to be through I AM and we persist in it independent of the objectiveness of our world until we are one with our new state.

The moment you successfully attain that feeling and continue to live by it, the direction of your attention will continue to focus on the implications of its fulfillment. That is, when you start to accept yourself as an it girl, the scenes that would suggest its consummation will make their way into your imagination, and if you persist in them they will inevitably become part of your state of consciousness.

VII. Invocation ✧ How to become it.

“When you pray, do not get down on your knees and pray to any unknown God. Instead, go to bed and dare to assume you are now who you want to be. Fall asleep assuming it is true and you will be on the road to success, for this is how things are brought into being.” - Brazen Impudence

A. SATS + lullaby.

I have an extensive post about the state akin to sleep which I highly suggest you read for further clarification as well as how I like to use the SATS. I’ll leave the instructions below:

The first step is to define your objective. Have a clear idea of what it is you would like to be (or be in possession of).

Next, ask yourself, “what does the end of that goal look like?” For example, if you would like to manifest a prestigious job opportunity, you’d be congratulated on it. If you’d like to manifest a change in appearance, you would receive compliments (It doesn’t need to include another person, but you may find it more helpful in order to feel it more real). Whatever the end looks like, it must always be an event that implies its fulfillment, that it is done. This is the wish fulfilled.

Get into a comfortable position. You can lay down or sit upright, it doesn’t matter, do whatever feels most comfortable.

Relax. You can do some breathing exercises, listen to music, have a warm drink, whatever it is that makes you relax. 

Induce a moderate degree of drowsiness where you can still concentrate on the wish fulfilled, but be sure to not feel too drowsy where you find it difficult to focus. When you feel like you could move but you don’t want to (because you’re too comfortable), that’s when you’ll know you’re in the state akin to sleep.

Construct a scene that implies the fulfillment of your desire by making elsewhere here and then now, then feel it real by incorporating your senses into it and imagine yourself being present within your imaginal scene from your perspective. Confine your scene to a single action. If your scene implies that you have received wonderful news, do not wander off in your visualization by doing a thousand irrelevant things afterwards, simply stick to the congratulations and mentally feel yourself being present in your scene. Repeat the scene until it takes on the tones of reality. [A tip from Edward Art: Focus on feeling it real (feeling the wish fulfilled) first and then the sensory aspects of your scene will follow]

If you find it difficult to focus on a scene and feel it real or if you simply cannot conceptualiza what the end would even look like, follow steps 1 through 4 and do the following: condense the fulfillment to three words or less and repeat them over and over again until your mind is dominated by the single sensation of thankfulness. Meditate on this phrase until you accept it as a fact.

¹ Visualization ideas.

Your scenes will vary depending on what life you want to live. You can change your scenes every time you visualize during the SATS so long as they all imply the same end. What would imply that you are an it girl? Being interviewed? Walking down a red carpet? Men dropping their jaws when you pass by? For ideas, consider what activities would comprise a day in your it girl life.

² The lullaby method.

"Remain there until you feel its certainty, until you reach the point of satisfaction, until you are convinced of its truth; and although the world may collapse around you, you will become that which you have assumed you are." - An Inner Conviction

If you would like to try out the lullaby method, some three word phrases you could use are: I’m that girl/person, I have everything, It is done, I’m so happy, I AM (__), etc.

B. Mental diets.

“Feast on the idea, become identified with the idea as though you were already that embodied state. Walk in the assumption that you are what you want to be. If you feast on that and remain faithful to that mental diet, you will crystallize it. You will become it in this world.” - Thinking Fourth Dimensionally

Mental diets aren’t particularly necessary since they can imply that you need to be monitoring your thoughts constantly. However, objectively being conscious of them can help you determine what state you are currently occupying. If you would like to indulge in a mental diet you can do so by asking yourself the following questions:

Is this what I would want someone else to say or think about me?

Would my it girl think this thought?

I would also like to briefly recall that thoughts alone don’t hold power unless you accept them as facts. You can have intrusive thoughts and joke all you want about how you’re ugly but unless you persist in that and feel them to be true it will not manifest.

C. Inner conversations.

"What are you saying at every moment of time? Watch it; be careful what you are saying, because your whole vast world is this inner conversation pushed out." - Control Your Inner Conversations

I urge you to stop internally berating yourself or imagining someone speaking negatively about you. Pay attention to the perpetual inner conversation you hold with yourself: “I’m not good at math”, “my friends always make plans without me”, “I’m so awkward”, because what you say and believe about yourself is what you will continue to face in the third dimension. Instead, think about the lovely remarks you’d like others to say about you and mentally hear them say them. You can also try vaunting which is the practice of constructing a conversation in which you brag from the wish fulfilled. You can turn to the example I used of being described in third person by someone else and speak from first person instead (I AM).

D. Revision.

"At the end of my day, I review the day; I don't judge it, I simply review it. I look over the entire day, all the episodes, all the events, all the conversations, all the meetings, and then as I see it clearly in my mind's eye, I rewrite it. I rewrite it and make it conform to the ideal day I wish I had experienced. I take scene after scene and rewrite it, revise it, and having revised my day, then in my imagination I relive that day, the revised day, and I do it over and over in my imagination until this seeming imagined state begins to take on to me the tones of reality. It seems that it's real, that I actually did experience it and I have found from experience that these revised days, if really lived, will change my tomorrows. When I meet people tomorrow that today disappointed me, they will not tomorrow, for in me I have changed the very nature of that being, and having changed him, he bears witness tomorrow of the change that took place within me." - The Pruning Shears of Revision

Before you go to bed, revisit the occurrences of your day and when you recall an unfavorable one that challenges your it girl state of consciousness and rewrite it. Follow the steps for the SATS and construct a scene that would replace the unfavorable situation and convert it into a favorable situation.

E. Finish the day feeling the wish fulfilled.

"Do not let the sun descend upon any vexation of the day." - The Pruning Shears of Revision

This one is an absolute must. If you can help it, try to refrain from falling asleep in the assumption that you are not an it girl. If you are not feeling the wish fulfilled, take a few minutes to meditate on your state and then fall asleep feeling embraced by it and the relief of knowing that who you desire to be is who you already are (also known as the Sabbath).

VIII. Preservation ✧ How to sustain it.

"Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith!" - God’s Creative Power

A. Persistence.

“By desiring to be other than what you are, you can create an ideal of the person you want to be and assume that you are already that person. If this assumption is persisted in until it becomes your dominant feeling, the attainment of your ideal is inevitable.”  - The Power of Awareness Ch. 3

To briefly remind you, persistence means to remain obstinate with an intention regardless of difficulties or obstructions. When you are adopting a new state of consciousness, you may initially struggle to feel it real or even become impatient with its lack of manifestation in the third dimension, but you must keep returning to it no matter what.  You may waver and you may falter but if you remember to proceed with the embodiment of your it girl state by returning to it through any preferred means, no force and no power will cumber its realization.

B. Forget about time.

"The length of time between my desire and its conception depends entirely upon my inner conviction that it is done."- An Inner Conviction

Focusing on the “time” it takes for your state to feel natural to you will only hold you back and keep you in a cycle of waiting. Ask yourself what the end, or the actualization of being an it girl, looks like for you and live in it. Do not suppress yourself to what appears to be the present moment if it is not reflecting the end of your desires.  If you are concerned with “the time it’ll take”, then you are conscious of the opposite of your desires which means you are not feeling the wish fulfilled.

Always seek the wish fulfilled and abide by it until it blossoms into your world.

C. Disregard appearances.

"These appearances will continue in being as long as you give them life through your conscious awareness of them. You must disregard the evidence of your senses as it pertains to any undesirable condition in your life. You must Imagine and feel that you have already attained that which you want to experience rather than that which you do not want to continue in being. This may appear difficult, yet you have probably exercised this principle unconsciously to produce negative results." -  Imagination Creates Reality

Do not settle for less than you seek. You never need to compromise with whatever it is that you desire because as I have mentioned, all exists and all is possible. Reject anything that doesn’t confirm that you are an it girl and never take no for an answer. Be adamant. Decide on what it is that you want and regardless of the limitations of your environment, consent to its immersion to your state of consciousness. No matter what you see or hear, do not accept it if it is not what you want. If you continue to suppress the acceptance of your desires to your senses then that's where your consciousness will remain.

“You don't accept one thing in the world as final unless it conforms to the ideal you want to realize in the world.” - The Pruning Shears of Revision

D. You already are, not will be.

“That which you seek you already are, it can never be so far off as even to be near, for nearness implies separation.” - No One To Change But Self

Something we can learn from it girls is the following: it girls don’t care whether or not they’re it girls, they simply are. So although we are intentionally shifting our state of consciousness, remember to not approach this with a trying mindset or the idea that you will become when you already are, because the use of the word “will” implies that you currently are not. As I’ve said before, “you can’t try to be someone you already are”. Whatever the wish fulfilled looks like for you, accept it at this very moment. Go straight to the end and bathe in it, rejoice in the fulfilled prayer as you go about your day and remain faithful to that inner conviction.

E. Reject the possibility of failure.

“Don’t be anxious or concerned as to results. They will follow just as surely as day follows night.” - Your faith is your fortune Ch. 21

Your desires are literally a guarantee. You can bring absolutely anything into being if you proceed with your intention in spite of what you experience in the flesh. You possess a gift that no one will ever be able to confiscate from you and that is your imagination. Intentional use of this gift will bring forward the beautification of your world in means you would not have been able to devise. Do not become an impediment in your journey by concerning yourself with the means, for they are never your responsibility. If you are serious and willing to assume in your favor, the mountains that need to move will move, the obstacles in the path towards heaven will be cleared and the people who need to play a role relative to its fruition will act accordingly without you having to do so much as lift a finger.

F. Apply.

“You must be doers of the law of assumption, for without application, the most profound understanding will not produce any desired result.” - The Power of Awareness Ch. 18

It is not enough for you to read the entirety of this guide without intending to put the instructions in it to use. You could read and listen to every document, every book and every lecture out there that tells you exactly how to manifest your desires but unless you take that information and put it to use, it was all acquired in vain. This post was long and detailed, do not let it go to waste by refusing to apply and persist. Wanting to do it is not enough, you must DO IT through persistence and a disciplined mind. Do not let the day in which you are reading this post to come to an end without acknowledging that you are an it girl now, not will be, you are. Plant the seed today and you will reap the harvest tomorrow.

"Your assumption, to be effective, cannot be a single isolated act, it must be a maintained attitude of the wish fulfilled." - The Power of Awareness Ch. 22

G. Calm reminders

I’m sure some of these concerns may have risen at some point so I will clear them up right now: acting as if is not necessary, neglecting your current circumstances and pretending they are not occurring is not necessary and being happy all the time is also not necessary. It is okay if you fall out of your new state from time to time, do not think that there is such a thing as “losing progress” because you can never truly lose what is already in your possession. If you are dealing with difficult circumstances I strongly recommend you read this post: how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too.

IX. Motivation ✧ 

“I don’t care what it is; when you know what you want, you can make your desire so real, so natural that you will reach a feeling of certainty which no power in the world can stop. When that feeling is yours, drop it. Don’t ask anyone if what you did was right or wrong; you did it and that’s all that is necessary.” - An Inner conviction

If you are truly serious about becoming the it girl of your reality, you’ll have to be disciplined, determined, and persistent. You have to be willing to give up who you are right now in order to become who you want to be because the longer you entertain your old self, the longer you’ll postpone your dream self. You can decide at any moment to change, and if you are not actively working towards shifting your state of consciousness then you are consenting to its preservation. You accept what you tolerate, whether it’s mediocre friends, mediocre grades or a mediocre lifestyle and the only way to put an end to that is by intending to because it all starts with you. Do you want it enough? Are you willing to finally become an it girl or will you continue daydreaming about being an it girl? If you’re capable of being someone you don’t want to be, what makes you think you aren’t mutually capable of becoming someone you do want to be? Your it girl self is not far away from you, she already exists within your imagination and she is waiting for you to bring life to her. You already know everything you need to know in order to do it, so what’s stopping you? I know it can feel challenging because we feel confined to our current circumstances but I have so much faith in you and I know you have it in you to give yourself the world. You deserve to wake up every day feeling completely obsessed with yourself and your life. You don’t need to spend a minute longer hoping things that feel like they’re out of your control change if you know you are the one who’s in control. This is your reality, after all. Decide who you want to be and what life you want to lead, start showing up every day for it and remember to never accept anything that doesn’t live up to your standards. Dare to pursue everything you have ever wanted, all you need is faith the size of a mustard seed. 

X. Outroduction ✧

"Every dream could be realized by those self-disciplined enough to believe it."-  No One To Change But Self

And that concludes this guide! If there’s one takeaway you should carry with you from it it’s the following: you reserve the right to have high standards in regards to every aspect of your life, you deserve the partner of your dreams, the home of your dreams, the life of your dreams, you deserve all of it and more. Becoming an it girl doesn’t require a meticulous plan of action. All it takes is the use of imagination and discipline. You can realize your every dream. Whatever you want regardless of what it is or how unrealistic it sounds, you should demand more out of life and you should never settle for less than you desire, fantasize about or dream of, you can have it and you should have it. The world was made by you and for you so be self-willed and go for it. I have given you everything you need to know to become an it girl and all you have to do is apply. You’ve got this! Remember that you cannot fail, so when you succeed (notice how I didn't say if), I want to hear your success story. Until next time, mis amores!

Love always, your bestie Hera * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

“You can be the man (or woman) you want to be, but not by simply wishing. You must make the effort to look at the world mentally and see it reflect your fulfilled desire. And when it does you must remain in that state until you reach the inner conviction that what you are seeing, touching, tasting, smelling, and hearing is true, clothe yourself in the feeling of its reality - and explode! Do that and you are pregnant. And what do you do after pregnancy? Nothing! You simply wait for its birth to appear in its own appointed hour. And it will! When you least expect it your desire will objectify itself in the world for you to enjoy, whether it be health, wealth, or fame. That’s how God’s law works.” - An Inner Conviction

[hufflepuffwriter1995]

 Title: His Queen 

Pairing: Gwinam x Chubby!Named Reader (Ryoko)

Fandom: All of Us Are Dead 

Summary: She was his queen and god help anyone who disrespected his queen. 

Warnings: Now: Mentions of abuse, swearing, pain.  Eventually zombies, swearing, blood, gore, fighting, and smut.

Notes: Gwinam is still a bully but never filled Eunji topless, that still happened but he wasn’t a part of it. He is also a tad less insane in this but still toxic. Enjoy. I fell down a rabbit hole of this and it's time I share. 

Two Years Before The Outbreak.  

   “You need to find a way to prove it.” Jisoo sighed as she carefully began to patch up the cut over my right eyebrow. I let out a sigh, wincing as she gently wiped the alcohol swap against the cut. I had hoped that with how often I was in this position, I had gotten used to the slight sting. Being my brother's punching bag had left me covered in small cuts and bruises and more often than not, a few broken bones that I was left to treat on my own. 

  “We have been through this.” I sighed, holding still as she began to apply the bandage to my eye. “Unless we can get his face on video no one is going to believe it’s my brother. How many times have my parents made up some random excuse about how he couldn’t possibly have done it because you can’t see him?” Jisoo was my only friend, the only person that my brother and parents haven’t been able to drive out of my life by employing threats or bribes. Her parents were saints, her dad a high-profile doctor who handled all my injuries and her mother a lawyer who was working endlessly to get me away from my parents. The problem was, that my parents were too careful, too eager to use their government standing to their advantage. So they never got far in the process of getting me out and were too afraid to push too hard in case I was forbidden to see Jisoo. 

   “We will find a way. He’s getting too confident, he will have to mess up at some point.” Jisoo sighed, her concern for me breaking my heart. Even after three years of having her by my side, I wasn’t used to having someone who not only cared but truly loved me. Years of abuse from my brother and my parents telling me if I was a better sister, their precious son wouldn’t have to hurt me, had taught me I wasn’t one to be loved. 

   “I am sure you are right. Myeonghwan isn’t all that smart.” I winced, waiting for the hit even if I knew it wasn’t coming. She pats my cheek with a loving smile. 

  “If he doesn’t I will find a way to make it happen.” She spoke with so much confidence, so sure that she would help, that I couldn’t help but smile at her. I started to say something when the door to the classroom we were sitting in opened and my brother glared at me. 

  “Come with me.” He demanded, ignoring the way Jisoo tried to valiantly to protect me. Squeezing her hand, I reminded her it would be worse for me if I didn’t go before moving to my brother. He grinned, gripping me by the hair and pulled me from the room.  

  Gwinam 

  Giwnam didn’t like people, he could tolerate people at best. That is until she came into his world. The first time they had met, he had been injured, a nasty cut along his arm from a prick that tried to surprise attack him with a knife. He had been sitting on the tennis course, cursing angrily at the prick as he tried to stop the bleeding. She had come up on him without a word, silently taking his hand in hers as she began to clean out the wound. Her voice was soft as she wiped at it with an alcohol swab. She didn’t scold him, or yell at him, only told him that if it happened again applying a tight dressing would stop the bleeding. She had left him with clean bandages and gauze, telling her to change them before he went to bed.  

  The second time it had been her that had been hurt. She had been limping down the hallway when an asshole ran into her from behind. Gwinam had barely been quick enough to get his arm around her waist to keep her from falling. After making sure she was alright, he tracked the boy down, beating him before pulling around until he found her again, forcing the boy to beg for her forgiveness on his knees. She had been shocked, her eyes widening in surprise before telling him she would only forgive him if he promised to be careful in the future. With Gwinam promising hell if he didn’t, the boy had promised he would between stammers. She had nodded then, thanking Giwnam with a smile that stopped his heart, before turning back to her friend. A clear dismissal for the prick at her feet. 

  Since then he had been uncomfortably aware of her. Doing what he could to help make her life a little easier, while also plotting revenge for whoever was the cause of the near-constant injuries. While he hadn’t figured out who had hurt her yet, he was determined to figure that out. Whoever it was, would pay tenfold for every injury that she suffered. He had just settled down for lunch when her friend came running, frantically looking around before finding him. Relief seemingly washed over her. 

   “Gwinam!” She screamed, pushing past a few startled students as in her frantic way to greet him. He raised a brow at her, wondering what the hell could be going on, when she slammed her hands on the table, chest rising and falling. “He’s going to kill her. He’s going to kill Ryoko!” She whispered. 

  “Who?” The wave of protection-filled anger washing over him took him by surprise but he promised to deal with that later. 

  “Her brother, Myeognhwan. He broke her ribs earlier this morning, if he hits her there again he will kill her. We can’t get him to stop, if we don’t get his face on video he will get away with it.” She spoke quickly fear causing her voice to shake. “No one else will do anything.”

  “Follow me and keep quiet. Keep that phone in your fucking hand. Where would he take her?” 

  “Behind the school, tennis court.” She breathed out, hope starting to flash in her eyes. He tossed his drink onto the table and stood up, racing out of the cafeteria with the girl, Jisoo he thought, following on his heels. By the time they reached the door that led to the back of the school, his hands were clenched in panicked-filled fury. What if he was too late, what if she had waited too long? Shaking the useless fears from his head, he slowly opened the door, holding a finger to his lips as he slipped out, phone in hand as he filmed. Jisoo followed the look of pure rage in her eyes, earning some respect from him. She was ready to go swinging for her friend. 

   “Faw stupid cow!” Myeonghwan grunted with each kick to her stomach. His girl didn’t a sound, only breathing harshly through her nose with each kick. Her eyes were closed, but tears still fell silently. Oh, the things he was going to do to the boy. Myeonghwan would pay for each tear, for every injury and then some. 

  “Son Myeonghwan.” He called out once he was in a position that would cause both of them to get his face. Grinning wickedly, he zoomed in on his face, catching that stupid prick as he realized what happened. “This is what is going to happen. You are going to listen to me, if you don’t Jisoo posts this all over social media.” 

   “Send. To. Your. Dad.” Gwinam couldn’t help but the pride that washed over him at his girl, beaten and weak, took her power back. 

   “You fucking PRICK! You will p…” He was cut off as Gwinam snapped, pinning him to the wall by his throat as he punched him hard in the stomach, pulling back to punch him again. 

   “Touch my girl again and see what happens.” He snarled, pulling away as the prick began to show signs of passing out. Without another word, Gwinam turned and carefully scooped up Ryoko, tucking her against his chest as he nodded at Jisoo. “I got you pretty girl.” As he headed to his car, Ryoko smiled faintly, moving her head just enough to kiss his cheek. 

  “I’m safe.” She whispered before passing out, her body relaxing as the pain became too much. Her words though echoed through his head. Never once has he made someone feel safe but he made her a quiet and silent vow. So long as he drew breath, no one would hurt his Queen.

[cant-have-shit-in-gotham]

Thirteen hours

It’s been thirteen hours since Scarecrow escaped Arkham. Nobody knows where he is, nobody knows his plans, and nobody knows when they will take place. All they know is that it’s going to be bad.

From what little you can see on the security footage, Scarecrow is pissed. The kind of pissed where he attacks orphanages and playgrounds instead of office buildings and warehouses.

And it's been 

Thirteen 

Hours. 

[CW below the cut: mentions of bullet wounds, stitches. Screaming. Lots of screaming. Mentions of torture, especially in a medical setting, mental torture, mention of child torture, the chick is Creepy but doesn’t do anything SA-y but I’m gonna mention it just in case, mention of being trapped, mention of “the box” that might set off claustrophobia, being a self sacrificing parent, calling a child “it.”

Let me know if I forgot anything or if you spot an error]

————————————

Wil is almost relieved when Scarecrow finally surfaces. A typical attack on an occupied warehouse, one where the bats collectively decide that Hood and his henches have it handled and let them do their own thing.

When they arrive, they're not prepared for a firefight. They were expecting to see more people screaming on the ground from fear toxin than bullet wounds—they don't have enough medical supplies, and they certainly don't have enough ammo.

But they're Hood’s men. They claw their way to victory with bloodied hands. While they rush to save as many gunshot victims as possible, they don’t realize that they haven’t needed their gas masks yet. They don’t realize that Scarecrow isn’t done. Not until it’s almost too late, not until toxic green gas starts seeping up through the floor.

Beforehand, Wil is thinking about a large crack in the back of his boss’ helmit, where an enemy goon tried to knock his skull in with a metal bat.

After, Wil’s first thought is Aw shit, and his second is Holy shit boss’ ‘elmit is crack’d.

As he races over to where Hood is kneeling, stitching up a gunshot wound on one of Wil‘s coworkers, he mentally checks what all he brought with him.

Two gas masks and a rebreath’r. One mask got hit wit’ a stray bull’t, but the oth’r one and the rebreath’r ar’ fine. 

When he finally, finally, arrives at Hood’s side, all he has time to do is stuff the mask in his face, say “Your ‘elmets cracked,” and stick the rebreather in his own mouth. 

Ok, Terror Protocol.

-Ensure everyon’ dangerous ‘as a mask (Check)

-Find a mask fer yerself if ya can (His eyes scan the room, but everyone else had ta use ‘eir extras fer vict’ms)

-Leave if possible (“Boss,” calls anoth’r goon, we’re lock’d in from th’ outside.” Shit)

-Hand someone mask’d yer weapons (He starts throwing his guns and knives at Hood’s feet, desperately trying not ta pass out from the oxygen deprivation)

-Warn someon’ about triggers that could make ya violent (He feels his heart rate pick up as soon as he takes a breath of toxic green air. “Boz,” he chokes out, “k’p m’ aw’y fr’m med’c’l sh’t an’ an’on’ ‘n wh’te.”) [Boss, keep me away from medical shit and anyone in white.]

The Boss shouts something, but someone starts screaming with Wil’s next gasping breath and he can’t tell what was said.

Distantly, he recognises his own voice.

————————————

Riley hears Hood’s “Get us th’ hell outta ‘ere!” but only barely, because just as soon as he’s said it, someone starts screaming. The kind of screaming that reminds them of someone being tortured, taken apart slowly and never really put back together.

A second or two later, the sound stops—so abruptly they wonder if they ever heard it at all.

The other goons are searching for an exit or way to make one, so Riley looks for Hood, to see if he needs any help with whoever got dosed.

Fuck, they think, that’s Greenie.

Greenie, real name Wilbur Jacobs, has worked for Hood for three years. He started as a goon but worked his way up to the point where he’s now sixth in the hierarchy and even leads his own team of goons at times. He was actually the one to hire Riley in the first place.

(Greenie gets his nickname from a long conversation about the Green Lantern, where he made the joke “If ‘is ring runs on willpow’r, that mean I could control it? ‘Cause a my mast’ry of my own Wil-pow’r?”)

Greenie looks like shit. He’s shaking like a leaf in a hurricane; his hands are clasped in front of him like they’re cuffed there; his eyes are darting back and forth, scanning for hallucinated enemies, glassy, like he’s barely holding back tears, and terrified. Worse than Riley‘s ever seen in somebody who’s been fear-gassed.

Worst of all is the muttering. 

It’s only partly intelligible, but that’s only because he’s spitting his words through his teeth, not moving his jaw at all. (Did he think he was muzzled?)

“Damn you. Damn you. You can’t have him. You won’t touch him-”

“Ma- no, ma please-”

“If you touch one hair on my son’s head, I’ll make the Alcatraz escape look like a petty quarrel. I’ll string you up by your intestines-“

“Don’t leave me alone Pa, please I’m sorry-“

“Don’t- don’t touch him. Please. Leave my son alone. I swear- I- I’ll stop fighting. I’ll go back. Just let him go. Please-“

Shaking themself back to the real world, Riley turns to Hood. “Antidote not work?”

“No- he’ll have to wait till the Bats get here so they can synthesize one.”

Greenie was screaming again.

“I think-“ the Boss cuts himself off, “I think this one makes you feel the pain. Not just in resurfaced memories either.”

Riley flinches at a particularly pained scream, “I think you’re right.”

————————————

No. Nonononono no NO

Not again. Please. This can't be happening again please no pleasenono-

“And here I thought three years was long enough to make you stronger. It’s a pity that you’re just as pathetic as you were before.”

No not Her pleasenotHerno-

“Stop screaming. Look at me.”

And he does and She’s just as crazed-excited-cruel-

“There we go.” And She turns off the machine and he can breathe-

“I’m thrilled you found yourself a little toy. A talon, impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Damn you. Damn you.” he spits, “You can’t have him. You won’t touch him-”

“Have you already forgotten that you don’t get to tell me what to do, Subject g-7512?”

And then She had his ma’s face and he was being left again and he was only seven howcouldthey-

“Ma- no, ma please-”

“Aww. Calling for your mum again?” And She was Herself and his ma was gone-

“Bring it in,” She called, and Wolf and Snake were hauling something through the door-

Morel.

“If you touch one hair on my son’s head, I’ll make the Alcatraz escape look like a petty quarrel. I’ll string you up by your intestines-“

She tsks at him, “Threats? Again? Have you not learned from last time?” And he did and he still had the scars but that was his son-

“A week in the box.”

“You’re a disappointment, son.“ That was his pa, behind him, to the right. “I’m glad we left you in that alley. You’ve only ever been a worthless leech.”

And he can’t turn to face him and his pa always hated that-

“Don’t leave me alone Pa, please I’m sorry-“

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re not alone. You have me, and Wolf, and Snake- and the Talon of course.  I wonder- should we return it to the Court, or do our own tests on it?”

“Don’t- don’t touch him. Please.” he begs, “Leave my son alone. I swear- I- I’ll stop fighting. I’ll go back. Just let them go. Please-“

She tsks at him again. Then motions for Wolf to turn the machine back on andhecantbreathe andhe’sscreaming andShetoldhimnotto andhecan’tstop

————————————

When he comes to he feels exhausted and his throat hurts and his boss is staring at him where he’s sitting in the dirt and-

The dirt? His boss? Wil stares up at the red helmet of the Hood and tries to ask what happened, but his voice doesn’t work. 

“Don’t talk, Greenie,” Hood says, in lieu of a greeting. “Drink this.”

His boss hands him a thermos, which he finds is filled with Earl Gray tea.

The warm drink soothes his throat enough to croak, “Wher’z Mor?” [Where is Morel]

“Asleep. About 10 feet behind you,” Hood answers. “You gave us quite the scare.”

“Don’ wor’y,” WiI replies, ‘ad a ‘ell a time m’self.”

“What part of ‘don’t talk’ means ‘don’t shut up’?” 

Wil smirks, and is going to try and croak out another answer, but instead gets tackled by his kid.

“Father,” they start, “Injured?”

“Sor’ an’ tir’d”

“Going home.” And then there's forty-five pounds of ex-assassin trying to drag him off in the direction of their apartment.

He gives his boss a look that says Pleas’ save me. But Hood just says “Good idea squirt, I was going to send you both that way in just a second.”

When they’re finally home, Wil puts on a happy, safe TV show, and wraps himself and Morel up in a blanket with a cup of tea. And even though the day was terrifying, and neither of them sleep, they have a good night and throw popcorn at the screen whenever the characters do something dumb.

(Tags: @imafangi4l )

[aetherixart]

Sorry that I’ve kinda gone radio silent the past month or so. I’m okay! Everything is fine, but I just needed to take some time for myself to work through a lot of feelings.

Rambling below the cut-

Otakon was absolutely incredible, and truly an unforgettable experience. I genuinely have never felt so much love from total strangers, or felt so accepted and welcomed into a community with open arms. I can’t thank each person I met enough for making me feel so included, like I really have a place here in the FFXIV community. Otakon taught me that it’s okay to make friends again, that there are people I can feel safe and loved with. Ive been such a hermit lately because I’ve just been so overwhelmed by all of the kindness I’ve been shown. If I haven’t answered your DMs or joined your discord server yet, this is why.

I got out of a very toxic friendship several years ago and it still affects me to this day. I was made to feel that I was difficult to work with, hard to love, asking for too much when all I asked for was to be treated like a friend should be treated, not used and stepped on for someone else’s gain. I was made to feel like I would always be a side character in my OWN story. I was told that I would be shooting myself in the foot career-wise by breaking free from them, and made to feel like I wouldn’t succeed in art and writing without them.

The last few years have been quite a struggle socially since that friendship ended. I’ve been terrified to make friends again, scared that people will show their true colors several months down the road like that person did to me. I’ve been so afraid to reach out and talk to my friends for fear that I’m bothering them. I won’t hang out with someone unless I’ve been explicitly invited, because I don’t want to intrude on anyone’s space. I hardly talk to anyone these days aside from my close circle that watched me go through what I experienced years ago. For years I fully believed I would never get anywhere with my artwork on my own. I never felt good enough, like I was always meant to be in someone else’s shadow.

But now I’m here. I’ve travelled across the country this year selling my art, doing things that even me two years ago could only dream of. I have met so many incredible people- fellow FF players, voice actors, streamer pals, fellow artists just to name a few. I’m attending conventions this year as an artist that I never imagined I would be able to go to. I constantly find myself asking the question, “why me? I’m not good enough to be at xyz convention?”But every conversation I have at my booth at conventions is so uplifting, validating and wholesome, and reminds me that it’s okay to open my heart again and make friends. It’s okay to unapologetically be myself, and everyone reminds me of how much I belong here. I’ve come so far without the people who made me feel like I was nothing without them, and for that I am truly thankful. I’m thankful for those who supported me the entire way, who never let me give up. I’m thankful for the Final Fantasy community for giving me a home, and reminding me that I DO belong. I can’t say this enough, thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart

[kloofspeaks]

Hehehe glad to make us all suffer together in the Joel and Ellie feels 🥲 how's your RDR2 going now that you got it? I remember being excited to hear your thoughts!

I’m still not done 😭, I was determined to finish it earlier today after I got done at the gym and was like mentally hyping myself but after getting Mary’s letter I had to take a break. I do know what happens though so I can share my thoughts.

RDR2 spoilers under the cut

I feel like the game feels like the concept of being trapped from Arthur’s perspective, of course. It reminded me a tad of Maze Runner storyline wise due to the fact they were always running and never found freedom till one of them fell to the darkness. I’m doing the full honor run so it’s been the deer I’m seeing in most of the self reflective cutscenes. Which the symbolism in that is the most beautiful symbolism I’ve seen in a game in a long time, besides TLOU.

I feel like the deer can have a meaning that’s different depending on person to person, there’s native’s in the game so it could be their beliefs behind being reincarnated as an animal of choice, or it could be a way of renewal of a new life but it can also represent Arthur’s heart for compassion and the drive he has to make things better.

The wolf is always the bad guy in every story, so this is pretty self explanatory. It stands for greed and violence, pretty much the opposite of the deer stature.

Dutch’s line “I miss the old Arthur.”

Made me want to eat him alive personally, there’s something about death and uncertainty that can cause people to fall apart slowly. I think the game does a great job of doing that. (I do plan on doing the dishonorable run)

Dutch started out as a character I was curious in but I’ve been driven to hate him and Micah. They’re both toxic in their own ways; Dutch wants to leave a mark in the world that nobody wants to drive but himself, but because he is the leader of the posse they have to listen. Micah is just Dutch’s influence, they’re both nasty people and I disliked Micah picking on Arthur for his struggles of breathing without knowing the truth.

John and Charles are great companions to Arthur Morgan and help him feel more alive throughout the story so far. They’re both brother like and feel more connected than anyone else (I say this because Hosea is no longer around and that was basically Arthur’s dad in my opinion)

Mary was an interesting side character, but also so is Sadie. (They’re both the only women I found myself admiring tbh, my friend even said something while I was screen sharing)

I’ll be a Molly defender till I die.

I’ll continue to update you when I get done with chapter six, but for some side notes.

I cried when Hosea died, I literally haven’t paused a game so much in one SINGULAR MISSION. The whole time I’m casually repeating “It’s Dutch’s fault.”

John getting arrested threw me so off guard.

The island where Arthur is with everyone who is against him bugged me.

I plan on digging deeper into this due to me being a person that will eat this sort of thing up.

[virgopropaganda]

Separate thoughts about Jeanette’s book it’s very long and vulnerable

Later in the book she compares binge, anorexia and bulimia, and the way she describes anorexia as “regal, in control” sucked for me personally. “At least I feel thin and valuable and good about my body, my smallness….I’m determined to keep this up.” Fucking sucked. Also “it’s a secret code you can’t help but pick up on” for a long time I didn’t think they could tell because doctors can’t tell. But other people can tell. Jeanette later writes “Fuck it. This works for me. Bulimia helps me. My grandma is blocked and my body is empty and these are things I need.” Very real however like, you’re not Actually happy (pointing at me). Her slower therapist (the 2nd one she sees) describing her binge pattern was eye opening. She’s right that the eating disorder brain is annoying. It’s like with everything going on and what better things for the mind to focus on, but the judgment on yourself because you ate food. Annoying.

Lots of the details were shocking just because how similar some of the things that happens to me. The way her mom talked about cancer is the way my family would talk about alcohol and drugs. It took me a long time to realize that these aren’t funny cutesy stories, they’re deeply hurtful events that my close family went though. Jeanette talked about her mom being desperate and using a cutesy voice that is sickening to her resonated with my life. The part about not wanting to cut off her daughter less grandma—“There is more maintenance to this relationship than I would like, and even so, it’s not nearly enough for her, which I’m told every time we do talk”. So other people do go through the exact same shit as me. I guess I feel better that I haven’t had an original experience but I am thankful that other people could understand how fucked toxic families are.

Some things her mom said my own family has said regarding their bodies, wanting to be famous, how she felt she was different than her family before her. It’s wild to me that one person in her life was what about 9 adults in my life were. There’s a part where Jeanette talks about how her mom is 20-45 minutes late to pick her up. I can’t even talk about my history without breaking down, but being left by your parent again and again and then having to protect them feels fucking terrible.

I also related to her feelings about life and especially the desperation of wanting out of her home situation. The feeling of being detached from your body during sex. The wanting it to stop but also keep going, being relived to get your virginity over with (I highlighted this part and wrote “comphet?”) When she’s desperate to be with a guy because “he’s older and cooler and you’ve never felt this way about anyone so it must be special.” Jeanette described her grandmas touch not being “nurturing or comforting but seductive”. I related and it made me feel not alone. Toward the end she basically makes a victim impact statement and said something I wanted to articulate if I wrote one “…I felt violated yet I had no voice, no ability to express that. I was conditioned to believe any boundary I wanted was a betrayal of her so I stayed silent. Cooperative.”

There’s some talk about female friendships that’s cringey to read. I understand her mother taught her these things and she’s had to unlearn them but GOD many times my thoughts went to “feeeeeemales oh no not feeemales”. Her mom in pep talk mode “a role she switches into more often than is necessary because it makes her feel necessary”. I just wrote down “oh my god” I couldn’t write who it reminded me of.

Other cringey moments included ”There’s blowjobs and then there’s THIS blowjob” like girl please. Also her drink was gin and tonic I’m sorry everyone out there that drink is a red flag for me personally my trauma is that it looks exactly like sparkling water among other things. When she said “…relate to your loss because they lost a cat a few years back?” (I didn’t highlight the whole context) like I understand your point however fuck you. She got me back by saying “mom didn’t get better. But I will”.

What happened to the Coogan account? I think I watched her talk about it but I can’t remember what she said. My heart shattered when she talked about her first solo apartment.

[louderrthanwords]

tw: suicidal ideation

1.2.23 || A List Of Observations, In No Particular Order

i. The year is fresh and new, and I am the loneliest I have ever been. 

ii. I listen to After Laughter by Paramore on repeat and scream along, trying to sing myself out of my cynicism.

iii. My friends are all scattered across states and countries and timezones, tied together by a connection to the internet and a tether to my heart.

iv. It is so stifling here that if I have to stay under my mom’s roof for another year, I think I might actually cross the line into insanity.

v. I haven’t read my Bible in months.

vi. I don’t know if I want to be an actress anymore, but I know the ever-present restless itch to create and perform still burns inside my sternum.

vii. Sometimes, the thought of suicide is a comfort. When things start to feel unbearable, the only way I can console myself is by remembering that if life is ever truly too much, there is a way out that I’ll never take, but contemplate for some sense of control.

viii. Sometimes, the only person I stay alive for is my best friend.

ix. Every song I write these days is sad.

x. I drink coffee now, in the early mornings when I work the opening shift. I’ve started looking forward to the sweet, bitter taste on my tongue.

xi. Lying is easier than it has ever been. Telling the truth is more difficult. 

xii. Now, with my short-cropped hair, not feeling the tips of my hair brushing past my shoulders is exhilarating. Now, in the mirror, I see someone beautiful: the kind of beautiful I’ve always wanted to be. I can’t regret cutting my hair, if it means the girl reflected back at me is more genuine than I’ve seen her in years, if it means I feel more at home in my body, if it means I get to feel the wind ghosting across the back of my neck. 

xiii. My mom lost her temper at me three times over three days. I cried each time, and each time it took all my willpower to remind myself that now is not the time to run away, not yet, to stay a little longer and wait out the pain.

xiv. I miss my dog more than anything.

xv. Everyone is lonely; everyone is running after things they desire but don’t yet have.

xvi. I mentioned offhand that I’ve never been kissed, and a girl I know offered to kiss me. Joking or not, I think I’d like to know what it feels like. I’d like to feel something good.

xvii. I finally had the courage to remove his contact from my pinned messages. Last night, when we talked for the first time in months, I realized I can’t continue to exist on crumbs of approval from the same person, he who once buttered me up with kindness and now rubs me raw with reality checks. Maybe this is my toxic pattern: say something vulnerable about myself to a man, trust him, and linger on even after I know he doesn’t love me. I held on a little longer than I needed to. But now I’m tired of not being valued by the people I try so hard to impress.

xviii. It has been two months since I last had an appointment with my therapist. I don’t know if there is something deeply wrong with me or if I am just deeply misunderstood.

xix. I keep the dream of moving away and finding my own home folded away under my pillow. I fall asleep with the promise that I am one day closer to finally making it real. 

xx. During all the moments when I wish for a kind embrace to fall into, she is miles and miles away.

[lieslab]

Tw : Sh / cutting / toxic mother

Hello, how are you doing ? I already requested two fics on your account, one of them is “star lost” which I love so much ( star lost is one of my favorite skz song ).

Recently, I haven’t really been doing great. I’ve just spent time in my bed barely being able to eat and to take care of myself. I’ve relapsed after 4 months and one day of being clean after realizing that my mom is controlling me more than loving me. And my dad… he’s a story for another time. I feel like my situation is both special and sadly very common. Could you write something comforting with Seungmin ? I like his personality and I think is really underrated. Thank you for your hard work and your time, and I if it’s to triggering or you don’t want to write it, feel free to ignore this text. Thank you 💕

Hi, darling. I loved writing star lost!! It's one of my favorites and I'm glad I accidentally named it after your favorite song. I'm really sorry life is beating you down. It can be really rough out here sometimes.

That feeling you're describing of being stuck in bed, ugh, it's the worst thing in the entire world. I wouldn't wish that feeling upon my worst enemy. Self-harm can be really difficult and I know it sucks to relapse. When I used to struggle with self-harm, I remember how worthless I felt when I relapsed. Life is hard and sometimes that feels like the only thing that can help with the pain.

I'm really sorry your mom is like that. Being kept under the thumb of a controlling parent is rough. I don't know the situation and it seems complex. Please remember that you are allowed to be your own person. I know it seems difficult, but I hope you know how important your existence is.

Sometimes parents forget how important their children's mental health is. Sometimes they get too caught up in their own thoughts and feelings and sometimes they never cared much from the start. I really hope you have someone you can turn to and talk about it or have some sort of emotional release for it that isn't just self-harming.

Parental issues are rough when you just want love. You deserve to be loved for who you are. You're not a clone of a parent, you're not meant to be a puppet, you're meant to be you. Please try to eat something. I know it's difficult when you feel so miserable, but not eating makes the feeling of worthlessness worse. Even if it's a granola bar or a protein shake. Maybe it's washed fruit or even something smaller like a cheese stick. Don't forget to have a bit of water here and there too.

Sometimes when I'm down, I like to imagine that I'm a plant. It sounds pretty silly, but flowers cannot bloom without nutrients, water, and sunshine. I remind myself that it works the same way for humans. Our bodies struggle without them.

I don't mean actual sunshine (unless you prefer that) I mean the warmth and tenderness and care from the people we love. Even if it's our favorite k-pop idols or another celebrity. Sometimes it helps to watch videos to cheer ourselves up and use a bit of escapism to get through the day.

I'm sorry I'm responding to this like a day later than you submitted this. I saw it yesterday and the gears in my brain started to turn. I instantly pulled up a brand new Google doc and began to write off and on for a few hours. By the time I finished, it was so late.

Unfortunately, this is common and ugh. I wish I could give you the parents you deserve, darling. You deserve the best. I know how much it really sucks to have shitty parents. I'm twenty-one and there's still days I struggle with it. It's hard to go on when you feel like you missed out on so much. It's even harder when people you know have good parents.

As for Seungmin, he is underrated. I love his sharp wit and playfulness. He's a treasure and I love him. Since I have everything written and edited, give me a few minutes to create the post after I post this, and it should be up. I hope you enjoy it <3

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

OK wow I wasn’t expecting to feel things from this episode or for it to address anything serious. I’ll put my unordered and rambly thoughts under the cut (spoilers for Rick and Morty S6E2 Rick: A Mort Well Lived).

I’m actually really glad that they acknowledged this, since Rick refusing to admit he loves people has been an issue for a while (first explicitly mentioned by Dr Wong), although he has recently become better at it with Beth (“Daddy loves you” in the facehugger episode and “I love her, she loves you, those credits don’t transfer” in the hell demon episode), and even Jerry (also later in the hell demon episode, even though he tries to play it off, which Jerry fully sees through). We also see that Morty is fairly open with expressing love for his family for a 14 year old boy (he hugs Jerry and tells him he loves him, as well as telling Rick he loves him when he’s detoxed), and also that he feels out of place/not loved by his family (specifically in the Planetina episode), so it makes sense that he would be bothered by Rick’s lack of open affection towards him, especially after all they’ve been through together at this point.

I like the representation of different parts of Morty through video game NPCs, as I think it does a good job of showing his different/conflicting feelings. At first, I wasn’t sure if I felt like it was a bit of a cop out from having Rick and Morty explicitly have this conversation, but overall I think I’m satisfied with the way it was handled, since it was a unique and interesting way to show this topic and explore Morty’s character, and it was a pleasant surprise to see it being addressed, especially so soon after everything. I think it shows the commitment to the increased serialisation of the show, and it also reassures me that we’re going to have a deeper look at Rick and Morty’s relationship and its toxicity, rather than just brushing it off, which I was kind of worried about after the S5 finale.

I think I need to rewatch to fully appreciate this but I liked the fact that Rick kept the game running just for Marta and allowed her to stay in the game - it felt very much like Rick accepting Morty’s choices and hoping that one day she may want to rejoin Morty as a whole. However, it’s late where I am, so I may be misinterpreting this, since technically Rick is keeping the part of Morty that resents him/doesn’t want to carry on without Rick admitting he loves him. I hope that the fact that he’s keeping this part instead of erasing it means that he respects this part of Morty and hopes to be able to reestablish it one day, or at least that he respects this need of Morty’s enough to keep it alive rather than get rid of it. I’m glad that Morty was able to stand up and stand his ground to get respect/love from Rick, even if only a part of him. While I liked the humour of

Beth: Tell your grandpa you’re worthy of his respect

Morty: I refuse to do that, I’m desperate to get back together

Jerry: Just like his old man

in the S5 finale, it did feel very much like brushing any chance for development under the rug, so I’m glad it’s being addressed here.

It’s also nice to see Summer being given more responsibility and agency this season, and I particularly liked her like ‘I read your book while I took a shit’ because it feels very Rick - Rick might tell Diane that Summer reminds him of her, but she has definitely become very influenced by Rick, but still keeping her own personality.

I will say that I personally wasn’t a huge fan of the repeated Die Hard references, probably mainly because I’ve never seen it, and I think that this will mean that I probably won’t rewatch this episode as often as others, but I still think the character exploration/development and the concept of Morty’s self being split into different NPCs makes it a good episode overall.

I’ve only just seen the episode and it’s 4am for me so I definitely haven’t processed things fully but this is my takeaway so far.

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we��re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Revision.

Commissioned by the very lovely @pyrokittyowo.

Pairing: Yandere!Simeon/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Past Trauma, Toxic Relationships, Codependency, Infantilization, Isolation, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Gaslighting.

The sun never sets in the Celestial Realm.

It’s less whimsical than it sounds, to be fair. Sleep is a luxury for angels, a way to pass time for the young and the injured, but that hadn't been something Simeon thought to tell you when you first arrived, as you tried to follow his mangled, irregular cycle of rest and work. You’d gotten the hang of it with time, carved out your own routine and forced yourself to follow it, but you’d be lying if you said you were completely used to it. It was grating, if anything, just how bright all of it was, the shine only amplified by the ivory and gold angels seemed so fond of. It was overwhelming, really. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve called it unbearable.

But, you did know better. This realm was warm, but not stifling, not half as oppressive as the Devildom had been. It didn’t have the same constant chill, a pervasive darkness only made worse by the humid air and that invasive metallic scent, like stone and rock and the blood that must've been soaked into the cracks of both. The darkness was worse. All of it was worse, but you tried to keep your mind on the landscape, the starless sky, the bleakness you’d slowly grown to hate.

If you let yourself think about anything else, you’d have to think about the people you’d met, the brothers, the way they’d looked at you. You’d have to remember how tight Mammon’s grip had been, the first time he took you by the wrist rather than the hand, or how dull Beelzebub's fangs were and how much it hurt when he drove them into your skin, your chest, the sensitive area just below your collarbone that never failed to bleed, when it bit down. You’d have to think about how Lucifer’s hand felt as it wrapped around your neck, the sound of your own failing breath, the way he’d laughed as you—

You inhaled sharply, cutting yourself off before you could get any more lost in the memory.

Because that’s what it was – just a memory. Something you’d never have to worry about again, thanks to Simeon.

Still, you were allowed to complain. Even indoors, perched in one of the many bay windows spotted around Simeon’s sizable chambers, you could feel the unyielding sun, notice the light start to eat away at your vision like a hungry, gnawing parasite. There were clouds in the sky, perfect wisps of nothing, but they'd been their since the day you first arrived, fixed features on an unchanging canvas. They wouldn't move. You already knew that. Nothing moved in the Celestial Realm, not unless it had a reason to.

And yet, you found yourself opening your mouth regardless, asking the question that’d been playing on your tongue all day. You could let yourself have this. You could hope that were wrong. It wasn't like this would be the first time. “It doesn’t rain here, does it?”

Immediately, there was a hum from across the room, one of the many soft sounds Simeon seemed to be so fond of. You should’ve been glad he was there to answer at all, really. Simeon spent most of the day tending to his vague responsibilities. If he had time to sit around, pouring over a scroll in a language you couldn’t recognize, it must’ve meant it was either too early in the morning or too late at night for him to be bothered with anything else. You couldn’t be sure which, not when the two were so impossible to tell apart. “Rarely,” He replied, still distracted. “Michael tries not to leave the weather up to chance. If he needed a storm, I’d be able to tell you weeks in advance.”

You almost felt bad for him. You would’ve hated it, knowing everything long before it actually happened, but you doubted Simeon would ever let himself be so careless. “I don’t know how I’d stay sane,” You admitted, your gaze moving back to the window. A white dove had landed on the edge of Simeon’s windowsill, meticulously sorting through bleached feathers with its pointed beak, and idly, you wondered if the animals bothered to regulate themselves, too. “You wouldn't like my hometown. Couldn’t see the sky most days, and when you could, it was nearly too hot to go outside. Never stopped it from snowing a month before winter, though.” You paused, letting yourself smile at the thought. You missed it; you weren’t going to try to deny that. You were still allowed to miss things. “Luke would probably love it. Say what you want about humans, but we've never gotten a bakery wrong.”

Simeon didn’t hum, this time. The silence couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but your heart still found a way to tighten in your chest, stopping completely as you heard his chair scrape against the floor, sharp footsteps following the noise immediately. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, and he was kind enough not to force you to, brushing off your avoidance as he positioned himself on the opposite side of your small shelter. It wasn't much of an improvement, though. If he'd just let himself be a little more cruel, you might've had the pleasure of hating him for it.

“You’re thinking about the human world again.”

He was getting straight to the point. You couldn’t say you weren’t thankful.

“How can I not?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strained, out of place against his sober expression. “I haven’t been home in a year. I’m bound to want to go back, eventually.”

“You know it’s not safe.” It was a familiar mantra, one you should’ve been numb to, but it still found a way to hurt, to linger, accumulate into a small, aching knot in the back of your throat as you reminded yourself that he was only doing it because he cared. That was all – he cared. He didn’t want to see you get hurt, not again. He didn’t want to see you face anything more harmful than his clumsy comfort, even if he did have a strange way of showing it. “We’ve talked about this before, (Y/n). It’s still too early to tell if Lucifer left any lasting damage. There could still be a tracking spell I haven’t discovered yet, or worse.” There was a pause, and a gloved hand came to rest on your knee. You could’ve mouthed the words, as he said them. “I can keep you safe here, but your world is neutral territory. I might not be able to stop him, if he and his brothers tried to take you away.”

You hated the way he said it. Part of you, a persistent minority, still wanted to think this was all a misunderstanding, a result of crossed wires and mixed messages and the kind of miscommunications that only ever led to such awful things. You knew it was unhealthy, to try to tint your own memories with such a forgiving light, but that didn't help you smother the temptation to believe all the soft, pleasant encouragements Asmodeus had whispered in your ear as his brothers lived out their distorted, carnal fantasies. Whatever Simeon was trying to do, it certainly wasn’t helping, either.

“I’ll be careful,” You tried, slouching against the glass. It was warm to the touch, a feeling you savored under his cold gaze. “It’d be a day trip, at most. Just a few hours. I…” He was wearing the silk gloves, today, soft and smooth as he raised his hand, cupping your cheek without a trace of hesitation. You trailed off instantly, still unused to the gentleness. “I just want to see my family, that’s all. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“You’re bored of me, now?” It was supposed to be playful, the question accompanied by a light chuckle, but you still shook your head, leaning into his palm as you went on. “I can’t say I blame you. I know I’m not one for company, but if you’re dying for entertainment, I can see what—”

“It’s not just that.” You should've let him finish, but it was already too late to stop yourself. You didn’t want to stop yourself, if you were being honest. You just wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere different, a place where the sky didn’t hurt to look at and the sun wasn’t so willing to punish you for existing. You wanted to be able to step outside without worrying whether or not your angelic hosts still thought you were worthy of their concern. You didn’t want this, anymore, even if it was the better option. “I’m just tired, Simeon. I’m tired of being here, I’m tired of running, and I just want to go home—”

There was a small huff, a sharp crack. By the time you realized what happed, by the time that sudden acidic sting faded into a steady throb, his thumb was already digging into your jaw, your head forcibly tilted back in such a way that made it so you had to look at him. You couldn’t avoid the softened anger in his eyes, or the stiffness in his posture, or that tight, unignorable scowl. He was disappointed, and he wanted you to know you were the reason why. He was mad at you, and you’d done everything to earn it.

When he spoke, he did so slowly. Like he was talking to a child who hadn’t quite come to terms with reality, just yet. “I’ve taken care of you, haven’t I?”

“You have.” There was no point trying to deny it. If it hadn’t been for Simeon, you’d still be rotting in that hellscape, subject to the whims of a family of monsters. He'd saved you. He'd helped you escape, and you had to be thankful for that. “I just don’t know if I can—”

“And you care about me, right? You don’t want to see me worry?”

You hesitated, but your answer was inevitable “Of course.”

“And you do remember the last thing Belphie said to you, don’t you? What he did to send you running to me?” He let himself smile, despite the nature of the question. “I could barely understand you back then, with the crying and all. Honestly, I almost didn't notice you were begging me to save you.” It was easy to forget how Simeon could be, when he knew he was right. Most of the time, his confidence was comforting, a gentle reminder that you could trust him, that you should trust him. Right now, it just made you feel weak. “What was it, again? C’mon, love, you can tell me, can’t you?”

You could. Objectively, you could, if you tried to. You could force your mouth to make the words, you could shut your eyes and let Simeon guide you through it, and you could tell yourself they were just memories, that you were somewhere else now, that you were somewhere better, but…

But, you really, really didn’t want to, and you couldn’t convince yourself you did.

If you did, you’d have to remember how tightly Belphegor had held your hand, as he said it, his fingers intertwined with yours and his grip strong enough to leave your palm bruised, after he pulled away. You’d have to think about the small smile he wore, the hatred in his half-lidded eyes, the chill that'd run down your spine as he hid his face in the crook of your shoulder and told you that, if you ever tried to leave him, if he ever had to share you with anyone beyond the six exceptions he was already making, he’d kill you. It was as simple as that.

If he ever saw you again, he’d kill you.

You were safe, here. You were safe in the Celestial Realm, you were safe with Simeon, but you still found yourself choking on the words, your throat going dry as your shoulders pitched forward, a bolt of something frozen striking your chest before you could ward it off. You couldn't be sure why something so distant would make you cry, but you could feel it coming on – hot tears welling in your eyes, blurring your vision, threatening to spill over and strip you of what little pride you had left, but Simeon only wiped them away, as doting as he always was. As loving as he always was, even when you took his patience for granted. Even when you hesitated to lean into him, as he pulled you into his chest, urging you to hide your face and treat him like the pillar of support he was so clearly trying to be. Even when you didn't deserve it, when you didn't deserve him, when you didn't deserve any of this, not when he was kind enough to pretend he didn't know that just as well as you.

“Poor little thing.” He was humming, now, his tone teetering on the line between carelessness and comfort. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, not in the moment, not when it was all you could do to muffle your hitched sobs into small, pathetic whimpers. “It’s nothing to blame yourself for. You just need a little help.” Another pause, elongated and purposeful. Sadistic, in only because he had to try so hard not to be. “You just need someone to protect you. It’s only human.”

It was all you could do to nod, to agree, as mindlessly as you were capable of. You didn’t want to think. You didn’t want to risk remembering something you shouldn’t.

Instead, you just focused on the sunlight streaming the nearest window, how it felt as it hit you.

How, wherever your skin made contact with Simeon’s, it seemed to grow just a little more insufferable than it had been, a second ago.

[artsyhobi]

Cursed

Divine Gods!BTS x reader

series masterlist

Chapter one, Calico Cat.

characters: mortal!fem!reader, god of the moon!park jimin, god of the sun!jung hoseok, god of death and darkness!min yoongi, god of the four elements!kim namjoon, god of time!kim seokjin, god of nature and life!jeon jungkook, god of mischief!kim taehyung.

a/n: hello ! i hope you enjoy this first chapter, i actually took inspo from Goblin (which is a kdrama i absolutely loved ;;) and i'm sorry in advance for my poor writing, but english is not my first language ...

trigger warning: mentions of blood, violence and death, curse words.

tag-list: @greezenini, @fangirl125reader, @motherofbludgers

Min Yoongi sat on the throne, his legs elegantly crossed as he rested his forearms on the armrest. He slightly raised his left arm so that the tip of his index finger could lightly brush against his lower lip, his eyebrows mildly furrowed in a focused expression.

The black-haired man continued playing with his lip, then reached for something in the pocket of his silk pants and held the object in the palm of his hand: it was a vintage pocket watch entirely made out of gold, with a ruby located right at its center. The hands of the watch moved mechanically, producing a “tic” sound that resonated in his mind like an irritating echo.

Yoongi hated time. What was ironic, though, is that he had too much of it: he had an Eternity.

Yoongi glared at the antique object once more. A satisfied smirk appeared on the corner of his lips, depicting anything but an innocent smile. He stood up, adjusting his coat and grabbing his black bowler hat in a swift movement before taking some steps forward: as he walked, the dark throne room surrounding him became gradually more distant and, in a matter of seconds, the man was walking in the busy and snowy streets of Seoul. The snow crunched under the soles of his shoes, the snowflakes that landed on his coat immediately melted, and as he passed by, nobody seemed to notice his presence.

The street was crowded with people rushing to purchase the last Christmas presents, couples holding hands, and kids eating strawberry cotton candy. Disgusting, thought Yoongi as he curled his nose.

“One minute and thirty-three seconds.” He murmured to himself, turning into a deserted alley after checking the correct street name on a brick wall nearby. As he walked, the bright white snow became dirtier until there were just a few clusters of it on the side of the path. It started snowing heavier.

“Fifty-eight seconds.”

“I told you there were consequences!” A hoarse male voice shouted in the distance. Yoongi stopped hands into the pockets of his coat. “You’re a worthless bitch!”

There was a loud bang, followed by two others, and a feeble female voice asking for help. No one could hear her, and even if her cries reached someone’s ears, no one would help her since - according to Min Yoongi - humans were nothing but greedy mortal souls that enjoyed the sufferings of others. They were too occupied with spending their money on materialistic goods and developing toxic, violent, and possessive relationships. They were human beings but had no humanity left in their hearts.

He approached the poor woman laying on the ground, her hand resting on her stomach: blood was gushing out of her bullet wounds, dripping down in a pool of crimson absorbed by the snow. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered the same words over and over again, “Help me”.

He crouched down beside her and tilted his head, observing her like a detective inspected a victim. He knew that her time was up and that she was destined to die there, alone, desperately waiting for someone to find her.

“S-Sir…” She mumbled, some blood running down from the corner of her mouth. “P-please help me…” Her hand desperately clutched the hem of his coat, smearing it with her blood.

Yoongi sharply exhaled and rolled his eyes, turning his head to the side.

“Fancy seeing you follow me everywhere I go, Jungkook.” He stated, reluctantly standing up to face a man leaning against the brick wall, his arms crossed.

“Did you miss me?” Jungkook grinned.

He seemed almost like an angel since the clothes he wore were entirely white. His blond hair brushed against his shoulders, and a pair of long crystal earrings hung from his ears, sparkling as soon as they moved. Yoongi, on the contrary, was his polar opposite: his short wavy locks were as black as pitch, and although his eyes were a dull brown, they almost felt like looking into two holes, black as a night without stars.

“Seokjin sent me here to stop you from reaping her soul,” he affirmed, playing with the many rings he wore on his fingers, “It’s not her time yet.”

Yoongi scoffed, slightly amused at his statement. “Don’t you see the three holes on her stomach… Or do you need a magnifying glass? I am the one who decides if she dies today, not that Doctor Strange wannabe.” He took some steps toward him until his face was a few inches away from his, “I don’t take orders from a teenager.”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, the slight grin disappeared. “These are not my orders but his, and you know you must obey him.” He lightly shoved Yoongi’s shoulder without interrupting eye contact with him, trying to remain calm. He kneeled beside the woman and caressed her hair, a sad smile depicted on his pink lips, while Yoongi stared angrily at the two.

“Don’t even think about it, Jungkook, her soul is already mine.” He said through gritted teeth.

“It is, you’re right.” The blond whispered and delicately put his hand on the woman’s chest. “But not now, Yoongi, you will have to wait.”

“Wait!?” Yoongi exclaimed in disbelief, and then frantically ran a hand through his black locks, “This has to be a joke, is Taehyung with you?”

“He is not,” He responded as a gleam of light formed under the palm of his hand, turning brighter by the second, “I haven’t seen him in ages.” This time his tone was lower, and his expression had darkened. Yoongi nodded, having no interest in knowing what had happened between the two friends.

“I suppose you won’t tell me why Seokjin wants to spare her life.”

“He just told me to stop you, nothing more.”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “Lies,” he snarled, “you are his little obedient puppy, Jungkook, we all know it.”

Jungkook inhaled the sharp, cold air and smiled as the woman opened her dark eyes. “I’m not here to fight, Yoongi, so you can insult me how much you want.” The blond took the now conscious woman into his arms and glared directly at his former friend. “But nothing will change the fact that you’re on your own now.”

Yoongi turned around, ready to argue back, but there was no trace of Jungkook.

The black-haired man remained still as he watched the empty spot, sighing, a strange feeling at the pit of his stomach.

20 years later

“Chung-Ae, we’ve already talked about this!” You groaned in annoyance, sinking your face into your Pikachu plushie. “I’m happy here!”

Chung-Ae sat on the counter, her arms supporting her as she gave you a stern look. You peeked, escaping the protection of your plushie, noticing that she wore purple lenses - although her stare was as scary as it had always been -.

“You’re a twenty-two-year-old living in an old house, with your three cats, and working in a cat-café.” She emphasized the “and” as if working in such a wonderful place was something to be ashamed of.

“That’s the best life!” You exclaimed as you sat comfortably on your sofa. “I mean, why would I need to move to Seul with a bunch of horny people when I could just spend the rest of my life in peace?”

Chung-Ae sighed loudly.

“They’re not just a bunch of horny people. They are my friends.”

You parted your lips to respond, wanting to remind her about the last party you both had attended, but she cut you off.

“Y/N, you live alone in such an abandoned area, it’s dangerous; it even takes you more than an hour to reach the café.” She slid down from the counter and sat next to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, I know that you’re attached to this place, but it doesn’t work for you anymore.”

She was right, you loved that place. Your grandparent’s house was located in the countryside, in a small rural village that was scarcely populated. The few young people remaining had started moving to bigger cities such as Seul or Busan, but not you. You adored waking up to the sound of birds chirping in the morning and the gurgling of the river. You got used to being alone, and you didn’t mind it. You couldn’t understand why Chung-Ae tried to force you to move with her, but she was rather determined, and you knew she was going to insist.

“Chung-Ae,” you reached for her hand and squeezed it delicately, a small smile forming on your lips. “You know I can’t leave, I promised my mother I would take care of this house.”

“You have to stop living in the past, Y/N.” She firmly stated. “This house is falling apart, and so is your life. Moving to Seul with me is your best option.”

Her eyes stared into yours for a few seconds, and you felt unreasonably guilty. You knew how much she cared about you, and you were constantly giving her “no” as answers. She retracted her hand, reaching for her purse right beside her, before standing up. “You still have time to think about it. You know that, right?” Her hand was on the doorknob.

Your mind wanted to decline her offer, but your heart told you otherwise, so you just nodded.

“Take care, Y/N.” And with that, she closed the door behind her, leaving you alone once again.

You finally took a deep breath running your palms down your face in an exasperated manner. Chung-Ae was your childhood friend, and she had always been by your side. You had met her in elementary school: she was popular amongst your class since her father was a renowned lawyer who worked for big celebrities, but you - on the other hand - weren’t as popular. You weren’t a social butterfly and preferred spending your time playing with the stray cats in your neighborhood.

You stood up and walked toward the kitchen, deciding to make yourself a homemade chicken noodle soup. You put the ingredients on the counter and started to chop the carrots into strings. As you were about to grab something, you heard a strange noise coming from outside: you reminisced Chung-Ae’s words and felt a shiver run through your spine, but you shook your head, mentally reassuring yourself that it must have been a wild animal.

You grabbed the celery from the fridge, deciding that you would drink some strawberry milk while waiting for the soup to cook. However, when you closed it, you were taken aback by a calico cat sitting on the floor, right in front of you. Your eyes were wide open in surprise since your three cats were all black, and you crouched down. “Hello, little one,” you gently smiled as you observed the little creature staring at you with a pair of light blue eyes, “I wonder how you got in…”

You inspected the room looking for any open windows but soon discovered you had closed everything. When you turned your gaze back to the cat, it was gone. Puzzled, you stood back up, massaging your temples. Am I hallucinating? You asked yourself before resuming your dish.

After literally devouring your delicious meal and doing the dishes, you headed to your room, where you found the windows wide open. You didn’t remember leaving them like that, but you also didn’t mind the fresh breeze coming from outside. It was a quiet night of July, and the moon was shining vividly in the sky, its brightness being the only source of light in the room. As you approached your bed, you couldn’t help but notice the shape of a cat on the window ledge, but when you came near, it had mysteriously vanished.

"Okay, Y/N, you're probably tired." You told yourself while sitting on the bed. As you laid down, feeling the freshness of your newly washed sheets, you heard another sound and then a chorus of meows coming from the living room. You sighed, reluctantly standing up, wearing a hoodie before walking down the stairs.

"What is it, guys, did you hurt yourselves?" You asked as your three black cats, Luna, Mars, and Pluto, continued meowing toward the front door. You groaned, "Alright, I will check."

You weren't ready for what you were about to see: you expected nothing but pitch darkness or that calico cat that was apparently haunting you now. But as you opened the wooden door, you froze on the spot at the sight of a man leaning his arm on the doorframe.

Because of the darkness, you could only see his silver hair reflecting the moonlight and a pair of light blue eyes staring at you in curiosity.

"Hello, little one."

[tojikai]

Gojo treats y/n like gum on the back of his shoe. Like to break up with ur gf of 5 YEARS who you claim to “love” and call ur ex-crush the same day to try to get ur d*ck wet??????? He just broke up with y/n, who basically worshipped him and did nothing but love him unconditionally, as a way to f other girls with a clear conscience. Not to mention completely deluding himself into thinking he didn’t cheat during the relationship which he consciously did. Trash. He is literal trash. He can’t even see the trash that he actually is. Disgusting. Like at least own up to that shit. He is a lying cheater and Rie is an insecure homewrecker. It’s that simple.

I truly believe he never loved her. Truly. I think that he THINKS he loved her. But in all reality he just loved being loved. If you actually love someone, you never do things that would intentionally hurt them for your own benefit.

Tbh, in my opinion Gojo is the worst thing that happened to Y/n. She is clearly someone who is vulnerable and is easily manipulated due to her lack of self respect and self worth. This makes her Susceptible to being taken advantage of. I really hope she learns that yes, she can’t help but loving him but she loves herself more than she loves him. I really hope she puts herself first and sees how toxic of a person Gojo is. He’s like a drug to her. It feels good in the moment but over time, it’s slowly killing you. And yes quiting cold turkey may make you go through withdraws, but you’ll live better on the other side of it.

Ugh ur writing is so good you have me thinking about this story allllllll day long!!!!!! I’m literally talking to myself trying to process this story. I think what makes me so invested is that I see myself in y/n. Gojo is her first love. When I was with my first boyfriend, I was obsessed with him. He was the first guy that had ever in my life shown serious interest in me. I was so in love, I would’ve done anything for him to stay with me forever. To make me feel worthy and wanted. But it also turned toxic because he would start walking all over me because he knew I wanted to stay together no matter what. When we would get into arguments I would back off even if I was right for the sake of maintaining the relationship. He eventually cheated with a girl he was friends with prior to us dating. So I understand how y/n feels. Losing the first boyfriend is hard. It feels like the world is ending and you’ll never find love ever again. Totally not true but it’s what it feels like right after a breakup. But unlike her I had enough pride to not grovel over him for too long and I immediately cut contact after breaking up. I worked on myself and became stronger because of it.

Also yes Rie is a manipulative pick-me bitch, and I hate her but I can’t even blame her that much. Yes she is a homewrecker. So what? There are so many homewreckers in the world. It was Gojos job as y/n’s partner to protect her. To stand up for her. Instead he turns around and stabs her in the back. He loves getting all that attention from both sides. Otherwise he would’ve shut it down before it even began. And I know that it’s naturally for people in relationships to find others attractive but to act on it is a whole different thing. Also a crush from high school??? Grow up. Grow tf up. Your not in HS anymore.

(Btw idk if you’ve seen the show Euphoria, but Gojo kinda reminds me of Jules and y/n reminds me of rue. Their relationship dynamics is similar! You should check out the show if you haven’t already!!!)

Ahhhh I love this story and I can’t wait for an update!!! Really want to see how this ends for everyone!!! Sorry this post is so long but I had a lot to say😂. You’re such a great author to be able to make readers feel like this. Honestly I really can’t wait to see the complete work!!!!

ooooh the analysis of yn's character is on point 👁️ she really is vulnerable even before satoru. when he came, she found someone she could lean on and when he left, she fell apart again :(( and i haven't watched euphoria yet but I've been seeing it everywhere, I'll check it out one of these days !! anywaysssss, thank you SO SO MUCH !! reading your thoughts about the story and the characters is always enjoyable, i really appreciate it <33 i hope you're having a great day/night, nonnie !! take careee~

[dokoni-mo]

Nights Like These || All for One x F!Reader

Summary: You were his favorite.

SFW // not fluff but not angst

Word Count: 2802

WARNINGS: obsessive behavior, toxic behavior/mindsets, manipulation, possessive behavior, all for one is evil as usual, fear tactics, some sensual touching, kisses, mentions of death if you squint, swearing, age gap relationship of you squint, but reader is depicted to be in their late 20s, also the fact I also didn't proofread this one lmao (pls forgive me I was working on this at like 3 am).

A/N: This takes place before AFO became the potato man. This is my take on how he would be like in a "relationship". If you want some PRIME AFO content, however, AND ARE THE AGE OF 18 OR OVER, go check out @nonobadcat 's story A Hypnotic Nightmare. It's one of my favs atm (also, badcat, if you're reading this, i haven't forgotten about the fanart! i've just had a lot on my plate bc of the end of school. im terribly sorry if it seemed like i left you hanging).

~~

You hated armored black vans.

Ever since meeting him you knew exactly what they meant.

They would come to you when you least expected it, and often when you really didn't want them to. You could be anywhere in the world, and one would always find a way to roll up next to you. If you tried to outwalk them, they would just drive faster. If you pretended to ignore them, they would cut you off in your tracks.

Persistent little shits.

Just like him.

This time, it was late into the night when one rolled up next to you. You hadn't seen one in some days beforehand, and was relishing in that fact when the dread-vehicle rumbled up next to you. You had just gotten done doing some late-night grocery shopping for yourself, looking decent but in no way perfect. Sighing through your nose, you gave the tinted windows of the van the glare of your life, trying in vain attempt to get it to just piss off.

Even though that tactic never worked before, it would never stop you from trying.

The van pulled up to the curb next to you and slowed to a stop. Seeing as there was no way you could run or try to ignore it now, you stopped in your tracks, clenching your plastic grocery bags tighter. A moment later, the van rolled it's driver's side window down, revealing the driver to you. You didn't recognize this one; it wasn't one in his normal rotation.

You wondered if he killed one of the other ones, and this one was the replacement.

Looking into the eyes of the driver, you shot him another glare, your face morphing into a frown. This didn't seem to phase the man, however, since he just stared back at you with a blank expression.

You knew you weren't that threatening, but, come on. At least show something.

"What is it?" you questioned the man, your voice firm and serious. Although you already knew the answer to that, you prayed to whoever was listening that it would be a different answer this time.

"He wants to see you."

No dice.

You let out another sigh through your nose, this time more frustrated and annoyed than the last one.

"I just saw him the other day," you tried to bargain, "and I have ice cream in here. Can it wait until tomorrow?"

The driver shook his head, "Sorry, miss. He wants you now."

Your face assumed a deeper frown. It wasn't often that these drivers made it known to you how persistent he was being in seeing you. This made a lump form in the bottom of your stomach. What did he want this time? Another date? Quality time? Or just to remind you of who you belonged to?

You hoped it was one of the former two.

Looking from side to side nervously, you swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking again, "Can I at least put my groceries in my apartment first?"

The driver shook his head, "We can get someone to do it for you, miss. But we need to leave. Now."

Damn, this driver really meant business.

Finally admitting defeat, you slowly took a few steps towards the van, watching as the large, jet-black doors rolled itself open for you. Leaning down, you set your bags on the clean, vacuumed floor of the van, ducking down and pushing yourself inside next. The driver watched you in the rear-view mirror, making sure that you sat down and buckled your seatbelt. Once you were safe in the backseat, he shut the door to the van and pulled out into the street again, driving noticeably careful.

A soft sense of dread washing over you, you leaned up against the van door and planted your elbow on the armrest, resting your chin in your palm. Not feeling up for friendly chat with the man driving you, you fixated your gaze out the window, watching as the neon lights of Japan rushed by you.

You wondered which location you would be at today.

He seemed to have spots everywhere across the world.

You hoped it was the Tokyo one. That one had your favorite food and view.

Hugging yourself closer to the door, you tried to ignore the dread winding up in your stomach. You tried your best to just focus on how pretty the lights looked at night, but couldn't help but have your mind linger back to the racing thoughts that plagued your head.

You wished your friend had never introduced you to his stupid fucking cult. He would deny over and over that it was a cult, but it was a cult. You had been quirkless for so long, and content being so all your life. But, when your friend told you about the man she met that could give you your very own quirk, you would be lying if you said you weren't intrigued.

Biggest mistake of your entire fucking life.

~~

Alas to you, the driver didn't take you to the Tokyo location. It ended up being the Osaka location. You felt rather disappointed by this.

The driver was at least nice enough to help you out of the car and escort you into the hands of your body guards for the night. The guards quickly surrounded you, almost suffocating you by how close they were. After relaying the message that you had arrived, the guards practically drug you into the tall, looming building.

You wondered when the next time you could go outside would be.

Going through the doors, you were greeted with the familiar sight of clean, shiny marble floors, your feet clacking against them as they always did. Everything about the building was ornate but simple, reminding you of some fancy hotel.

It was so fucking obnoxious.

Only one dude and occasionally yourself lived here. And not even full time.

It make you frown.

Eventually, the guards and yourself made your way to the elevators. When one eventually came down (it didn't take long because you were most likely some of the only people in the building), all of you packed in the elevator like a fucking clown car. You were shoulder-to-shoulder with the much taller guards, suffocating on their cologne.

The dead silence in the elevator made you wanna puke.

~~

The guards left you once you were at the door.

You were now all alone in the hallway, the tall, dark, looming door before you. Your fingertips were trembling, yet you didn't know if it was out of fear or anticipation.

He probably already knew you were here. Why did you even have to go through this step? Just for his sick kicks?

Most likely.

You didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

You swallowed and closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths in and out of your nose. You had to give yourself a pep talk before you could lift up your hand, curling your knuckles to knock on the door.

You stopped before you could knock even once. If there was any time to run, this is it. If you could just-

No. It's impossible.

God how you knew it was impossible.

No matter where you went, no matter what you did, he seemed to always know.

You've seen him angry before. It ran shivers down your spine and made you contemplate whether or not there was an afterlife or not.

You didn't want to know how he was like when he was pissed off. Especially if it was directed towards you.

And, you knew, trying to get away from him was a sure as fuck way to royally piss him off.

Taking in one last deep breath, you put on your brave face and knocked on the door, feeling your dread become almost overwhelming in your gut.

You wet your lips before you spoke.

"It's me."

...

Silence.

Your head perked up at the nothingness that greeted you back. Was he not here anymore? Did he leave for a different place without telling you?

You opened your mouth to say something again, but quickly shut it again.

Could you... leave? Go home?

This was definitely a first.

As soon as your excitement welled up, however, you were quickly shot down again from the deep voice behind the door.

"Come in."

Fuck.

Squaring your shoulders and putting on your bravest face, you gingerly opened the door and stepped through, leaning your back against the wood as you shut it again.

Why did you do this to yourself? So willingly walk into the lion's den?

It didn't take you long to remember.

Fear.

Looking inside the room, the lighting was moody to say the least. Barely anything was turned on, and it was so deafeningly quiet, sans the sounds of the city below and the hum of the AC.

Scanning the room with your eyes, you felt your stomach do a flip when you landed on the man of the hour.

The man who had taken over your life for the past three years.

Him.

Shigaraki. Or, as he was known by everyone who wasn't you, All for One.

Probably the most feared man in Japan. Hell, the world even.

Christ on a fucking bike.

He was seated on the couch that faced the door, his usual sly smirk on his face. One of his legs was crossed over the other, and he seemed to had shed his black coat long ago. His crimson eyes bore right into the very fiber of your being, right into your very soul. His presence was so fucking overwhelming it made you feel like you couldn't breathe. The amount of power that dripped off that man was uncanny.

It always made you wonder what he wanted with quirkless little you.

Unable to maintain eye contact with him for any longer, you dropped your gaze to the floor, your back still pressed against the door. Even though you couldn't see him anymore, you could feel his eyes on you, raking up and down your body.

You prayed that this night went by quickly.

"You're late, little one." He said to you, making your shoulders tense up.

"I..." you began, your nervousness painfully obvious as you brushed your hair behind your ear, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be."

All for One let out a hum, and you could practically fucking feel his smirk grow bigger from across the room.

You wondered if he knew that you were only half telling the truth, or if he was just that delusional.

After a moment, he spoke again.

"Come into the light, darling. Let me get a good look at you."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you hesitated for a brief second, your fingertips twitching against the wood of the door. Seeing no possible way out, you decided it was best to just do what he said. Pushing yourself off the door, you took small, timid steps into the light, keeping your gaze down on the floor. Awkwardly trying to figure out what you should do with your hands, you decided on clasping them in front of you, picking at the skin around your nails.

You could really feel his eyes on you now.

He looked you over for what felt like an eternity before he said something else, making your eyes flicker back up to him.

"There's no need to be shy, my dear," he said, sensing how nervous you were, "There's nothing to be concerned about. You know I would never harm you."

You wanted to snort out a laugh, but decided against it. Yes, he had never hurt you before, but you doubted it was out of his realm of capability.

Not knowing what to respond with, you simply just nodded, turning your attention back to your hands.

Shigaraki continued to stare at you for a good long while, his red eyes lingering on your cute face and nervous eyes.

Fucking hell you were just too adorable.

After a good second, All for One lifted up his hand, making you look up at him. He was holding his palm out to you, his usual smirk on his face.

"Come here." He said.

Shit, he was getting serious tonight.

Your cheeks tinting a faint pink, you forced your feet to raise up and make you walk across the room. Once you were close enough, you put your hand into his, watching it as it was nearly swallowed by the sheer size of his palm. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you slipped yourself in between his long, thick legs and sat back into his lap. Your side was nuzzled into the crook of his armpit, his strong arm wrapping itself around your waist to keep you in place. Just like he liked, you rested your head against All for One's shoulder, gently lying your hands across his broad chest. This seemed to please him greatly, since he put his other hand on your lower thigh, gently rubbing circles into the side of your knee with his thumb.

You must really be fucking insane.

Gently, Shigaraki pressed a gentle kiss into your hair, mumbling out a quiet good girl in the process.

You couldn't stop the pink dust from spreading across your cheeks.

"How was your day today, darling?" He asked you, the rumble of his voice in his chest loud in your ears.

You hummed before speaking.

"It was okay..." you said, feeling the hand on your side gently stroking up and down.

"You had a lot to do, didn't you?" He asked, making you glance up at him.

Of course he fucking knew about your goddamned errands and job.

"Yeah..." you said, "I was expecting to go back home and chill the rest of the night, but..."

Shigaraki let out a chuckle at this. You didn't have to finish your thought for him to know what you meant.

"Oh, I'm sorry, little one." He said, pressing another kiss to your temple, "I know you must be tired."

You nodded in response, maybe a bit too eagerly.

"I just couldn't bear another second without you, darling." He continued, tracing circles on your thigh this his pointer and middle finger, "I just had to have my special girl with me tonight."

You shifted your weight in his lap, looking up at him, "Did something happen?"

Shigaraki chuckled at this, reaching up and brushing the hair out of your face, "Let's just say I had some... family issues tonight, my dear."

Family?

Shigaraki had family?

This was definitely a first.

You couldn't help but to be nosy.

"Family?" you asked.

"Oh, nothing for you to be concerned about, my sweet girl." He said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

"You never told me you had family." You pressed, not wanting to let the subject go.

"You never needed to know, small one. Besides, it would be too dangerous for you to meet them anyhow."

"Dangerous?"

"There's a possibly they would try to take you from me."

"I highly doubt you would let that happen."

He chuckled, "As clever as always, my darling."

"What are their names?"

"Let's move on from his, my love."

"But I-"

"Are you hungry, dear? I can have someone fetch you something."

"Shigaraki, I just-"

"I said no."

A shiver went down your spine and you were quick to shut your mouth. You knew what that tone meant. It meant shut up or you get a punishment.

You always just chose to shut up.

Seemingly pleased at your compliance, Shigaraki assumed his usual smirk again and planted a kiss on your cheek, rubbing more small circles into your side.

"Have I told you how radiant you look tonight, my dear?" He asked you.

Not feeling in the mood to talk anymore, you just shook your head no.

"You always look gorgeous to me, my dear. Every single piece of you."

Pulling you closer to his chest, he lifted up your chin and looked deep into your eyes.

"My special girl. My favorite."

Closing the distance between the two of you, All for One pressed his lips to yours, stealing your breath away. His kisses were always just like him: strong, confident, and dominating.

Kissing Shigaraki always filled you with a whirling of emotions. Perhaps it was because you were tired that night, or perhaps it was because of the air, but you allowed yourself to fully enjoy his kiss. The feeling of his hands on you, the feeling of how small he made you feel, the feeling of his power radiating off his skin...

He always had this affect on you. When you were apart from him, you found it hard to love him.

But, when you were together...

you found it hard to stop.

[iamanartichoke]

I wasn’t going to address this bc I’m pretty sure it will accomplish nothing bc people will believe whatever they want to believe - but, well, at least *I’d* feel better getting my side of the story out and then moving on with my life.

Cut for length.

I’m aware that the fallout of my “controversial” post has several people upset. I have seen, over the past 24 hours, several vagueposts about me. I have seen one user in particular (who I am not going to tag but I’m sure she knows who she is, what's up) make *several* posts about how I’ve betrayed her. I have seen that I am now a “toxic possie,” that I am gaslighting people into thinking they misinterpreted me, that I have “out of nowhere” changed, become toxic, or suddenly have a problem with people I’ve been mutuals with for years for “no apparent reason.” I have *also* seen that I don’t want to be proven wrong, that I can’t handle the inevitable backlash of what I’ve said, that I don’t know what torture is or what narrative framing is. And that I have been “pretending” to be on one side all this time, that I am now slandering the takes that I’ve previously defended, etc.

And I just need to say - for one thing, what in the actual fuck are you talking about by saying I’m GASLIGHTING you, but for another thing, if you truly think that my POV is coming out of nowhere, with no apparent provocation, you clearly haven’t been paying attention.

And I mean, that’s fine, whatever, but just for the record? I got fed up MONTHS AGO. Some of you I unfollowed a long time ago (thanks for noticing!), some of you I blocked way before my post was even a thing (what’s up!) and some of you I was never fucking following in the first place, nor have I ever even had a conversation with you (or if I have, it’s been brief and in passing on some post or another). And I wasn’t following you nor did I ever attempt to befriend you because I don’t agree with most of your takes and don’t want to engage with them.

To the person who thinks I deliberately betrayed them, specifically - I don’t even KNOW YOU. Most of the time I’m hardly aware that you exist, until your posts cross my dash due to the mutuals we had in common, and I’m not impressed with what I’ve seen. It’s not your response to anons that have sent you hate and death threats that I take issue with - obviously no one deserves that and you’re free to defend yourself from it however you like. My issue is that I have seen you and others hop on posts that started out either neutral or positive and turned them negative by reminding everyone that the series is harmful, that Sylvie is abusive, that Mobius is a torturer, that the TVA being fascist means that the show is pro-fascist (and I’m the one who doesn’t understand narrative framing? Please.) etc etc etc and it’s fucking exhausting. This has happened to a few of my own posts, too, and I’ve watched them spiral into seriously negative posts that I didn’t want my name attached to bc I didn’t agree w/ the direction the arguments were taking.

So when I saw you reblog my Mobius post and saw notes start coming in from series-negative people, I said, NOPE. And like I said, I’m glad I did bc the result was that I feel I ended up having fruitful conversations. I don’t want to be proven wrong? I WAS proven wrong. I ACCEPTED that I was proven wrong. I am FINE with being proven wrong. I’m not fine with trying to navigate my way through vitriol to defend myself against people who are so quick and immediate to accuse others of being abuse apologists, toxic, pro-torture, gaslighters, and whatever else takes I have seen in the last day, who aren’t going to listen to me anyway. I'm surprised I haven't been accused of being a terf yet (unless I have and I just haven't seen it). (And also I’m not taking the post down bc while I agree it was harmful, it was also productive and also it’s my fucking blog and I can keep up whatever I’d like, but thanks for adding some pro-censorship vibes to this dumpster fire.)

I haven’t “switched sides.” I was never on a side to begin with, which I have repeatedly said since this series started airing. I have defended a lot of you, absolutely, bc I don’t think anyone should be bullied for their takes and I don’t think criticism should be discouraged. I still feel that way.

But for months now, my efforts to be neutral and/or to stick up for people I thought were my friends have been ignored and unreciprocated, people I thought were my friends posted my meta in their discord servers to attack it, people stopped tagging their negativity, making it impossible for me to curate my fandom experience, etc. I have gone out of my way to apologize to people if I’ve hurt them, I have held my tongue so that I *wouldn’t* hurt anyone’s feelings even though I thought their takes were trash. All to no avail.

I’ve BEEN fed up. The fact that those of you this applies to are only JUST NOW noticing? Really just proves my point: y’all don’t actually give a shit about me, you’re just mad that I’m not holding my tongue anymore so you can go on thinking that good ol’ non-toxic artichoke is on your side. I'd say I'm surprised with how quickly you jumped to assuming the absolute worst about me, except I'm not surprised at all.

I am 1000% sure I am going to regret posting this, but I'm not unblocking anyone I've blocked, so if you have shit to say, go ahead; I won't be seeing it. Think whatever you want to think about me. If I haven't blocked you but you no longer wish to follow me or be mutuals with me or think I'm an asshole, feel free to leave. Peace out. I don't care anymore. It was nice knowing you until it wasn't; I'm 500% done with the way things are in this fandom.