Producer Jeff Bhasker faced a daunting task several months ago. After having worked with Kanye West and winning Grammy Awards for producing Mark Ronson’s “Uptown Funk,” and Fun.’s 2012 album “Some Nights,” he had to decide whether to take on a new project: the debut solo album of One Direction member Harry Styles.
“I’d just had a baby, and I was kind of like, ‘Eh, I don’t know if I’ll jump into this,‘” Bhasker tells Variety. He agreed to have Styles come over to “just talk,” and proceeded to put him through the Bhasker home sniff test. “My dog tends to bite people, and he was kind of scoping Harry out,” Bhasker explains. Styles “did this move — like a little shoot the gun with his finger, and my dog walked over and started licking his finger. That’s when I was, like, ‘This guy has something special.'”
Once music came into the mix, Bhasker was sold. “He started playing references of what he wanted to do, which sounded like a cool rock band. I got it, and could see where if we pulled this off, it would be one of the coolest things ever. But he needed a buddy who plays guitar like he’s Keith Richards.” The insinuation being: Styles is the Mick Jagger in this scenario.
Adds Bhasker: “I’m so proud of the album itself, and also of Harry for being so brave, and committing 100%, and writing the kind of vulnerable lyrics that he wrote, and not pandering to what people thought he would do. People have no idea that this is what Harry Styles is like. Just like I didn’t know. He’s obviously very famous and beloved, but people don’t know the depths of what an amazing personality and artist he is.”
Variety spoke with Bhasker about the recording of “Harry Styles” ahead of the album’s May 12 release:
I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.
Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower’s mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away.
“Wanna hear my new time?” Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips.
“There’s no way you beat my time,” Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance.
“What!” Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. “No way.”
“Flat,” Flash said.
“There’s no way.”
“Check my heartbeat if you don’t believe me,” Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. “Actually, don’t, I’m pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy.”
His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn’t as relevant as it could have been.
“Dangit,” Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. “What time?”
“Eleven on a Saturday,” Flash said, looking even more smug. “You know I don’t mess around.”
“Tch!” Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. “You forgot about–”
“Nnnope,” Flash interrupted. “I’m including the new ones in that, that’s the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I’d still be at seven-point-four.”
“Tch.” Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. “Nine seconds,” he repeated, torn between irritation and awe.
“You know what that means,” Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.
Superman sighed. “Alright, where are we going?”
“I want soup.”
“Uh-huh.” Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction.
“… in Saigon.”
“You’ve been watching Bourdain again,” Superman accused.
“It looked like really good soup!” Flash said, defensive.
“Fine,” Superman said, “but I am going to beat your time, and when I do–”
“Beat what, now?” Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations.
“Nothing!” Flash and Superman said at once.
“We were just talking,” Superman said.
“About stuff,” Flash added unnecessarily. “Private, personal, man stuff.”
Wonder Woman’s eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red.
“Okay bye!” Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red.
“Superman?” Wonder Woman asked.
“I should, uh. Hal…”
He wasn’t actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.
She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was.
“Do you want to know what they were talking about.”
“Do you know?” she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.
He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say ‘of course’ – but of course he knew.
“I wouldn’t want to invade his privacy,” Wonder Woman said cautiously.
“He’d tell you if you really asked,” Batman said. “They just like feeling like they have a special thing.”
“I see.” She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. “So what’s the special thing?”
“Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you.”
She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. “Like a date?” she asked.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “More like a stakeout.”
“That could be like a date.” She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in.
“It’s usually not.”
“I’m usually with the kids.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean–”
She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “I would never imply–”
She took her hand back. “I’ll behave,” she assured him.
“You don’t have to,” he said, and she grinned.
“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away.
“It’s a date,” he murmured.
“Why,” Wonder Woman asked, “are we in Florida?”
Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. “Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.”
“I don’t think that explains as much as you think it does,” she said.
Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. “Watch,” he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.
Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?
“Oh! It’s the–” She snapped her fingers, couldn’t remember the word.
“Carts,” Batman supplied.
In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he’d have thrown his hat to the ground, if he’d been wearing one.
“They introduced new carts,” Batman explained. “They don’t fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.”
“They had a system?” she asked, giggling.
“No, here,” he said, tapping her arm to point again. “This is the best part. He’s frustrated.”
“That’s the best part?”
“Watch what he does.”
She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things.
“He’s fixing the cars!” she said, clapping her hands together.
“He’s fixing bad parking jobs,” Batman confirmed. “Because he’s mad.” There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth.
“He moved that one to a different space!”
“Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.”
“How fun.” Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. “Flash is the winner of this contest, then?”
“Is there a prize?”
“Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can’t normally do that.”
“Barry can run anywhere, can’t he?” she asked. “I see no reason he couldn’t run to these places on his own.”
“He doesn’t like being alone in foreign countries,” Batman explained. “It makes him anxious.”
“Oh.” She returned her gaze to the parking lot. “How nice, then, that it all works out.” She frowned. “Is this weird?” she asked. “Spying on our friends like this.”
“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”
“Do you do this often?” she wondered. “Watch people have fun without you?”
Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. “Zatanna taught me a trick.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad.”
Before he could respond, there was a thump.
Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.
He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.
“What are you two doing here?” Clark asked.
“We’re on a date!” Diana said.
“We’re not on a date,” Batman said.
“If you’re not on a date, can you give me a ride?”
“You’re out of our way,” Batman said.
“Nah, just drop me off in Gotham,” Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back.
“You don’t even need a ride,” Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. “You can fly.”
“Yeah, and you can walk, but I don’t see you giving up the Batmobile.” Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. “I’m craving Dimitri’s.”
“You’re too sober for Dimitri’s,” Bruce said.
“I’m always sober. You’re lucky I can tell this wasn’t a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole spying on me thing.”
“Don’t tell Barry we know about your special thing,” Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”
“I won’t,” Clark assured her. “Hey, you know where we should go while we’re here?”
“No,” said Bruce.
“Where?” asked Diana.
“No,” said Bruce.
Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You can’t have come all the way to Florida just to see me,” he coaxed.
“I’m banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I have no other reason to visit Florida.”
It was only by a stroke of luck that Jack happened to look at his phone just as he exits the lecture hall. The group chat was blowing up – the group chat was always blowing up these days – but the lack of all-caps or exclamation marks caught his attention right away.
Eric Bittle: Guys, I wouldn’t ask this of y’all if I really didn’t need this, but I have to ask a HUGE favor of one of you.
Shitty Knight: brah are you dying
Justin Oluransi: You can have my kidney, Bits.
Adam Birkholtz: u aren’t gonna save that for me just in CASE, JUSTIN?
Larissa Duan: shit, bitty, r u ok
Eric Bittle: Um, yeah, mostly, I just…..need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend.
Oh almighty napkin arm with googly eyes, I humble peregrin dare come forth with a request... could you make some character design breakdowns for some more realistic characters? Like your power ranger fanart? I tried to break them down on my own, but I'm not sure I did it that well... it's incredibly useful and interesting... Keep being awesome, and thanks for how you already helped me anyway!
Thanks for the patience, had to mull this one over. The more complex a design gets, the more difficult it is to break down. Basic character design tips may not be enough…so let’s delve into:
Character Design Tips Part 2!
Before we start, it’ll help to read my last character design post, where I laid out four concepts: shapes,silhouettes,colors, and inspiration. In this post, I aim to build on and rephrase these in a way that hopefully makes it easier to apply them. I’ll be drawing examples from my Power Rangers (2017) fanart to illustrate my points.
(Ideally, you should already be comfortable with drawing people. If not, look into figure drawing, gesture drawing, etc.)
(Whereas my previous tips were more tried and true, the tips here are more my own thoughts, so they may be half-formed.)
(Again, these are not rules. They’re just tips to add to your toolbox; the more tools you have, the more versatile you’ll become.)
Without further ado, let’s start!
Based off what we know about shapes, silhouettes, colors and inspiration, I want to cover: lines and angles, external and internal silhouettes, values, and references.
1. Shapes => Lines and Angles
Last time, I laid out three basic shapes:round, box, and triangle.
Problem: limiting yourself to these 3 shapes can be useful and fun for simpler designs, but they may be too simple or look out of place on more complex designs.
Solution: let’s go to the next level! Instead of shapes, shift your thinking to lines and angles!
Lines can be curved,straight, or diagonal. Angles can range from obtuse to acute angles. Follow your intuition: what feeling do you get from each line or angle? If I follow my own intuition, I see that:
curved lines = natural, soft
straight lines = balanced, grounded
diagonal lines = off-balance, in motion
obtuse angles = broad, relaxed
right angles = rigid, unnatural
acute angles = slim, dynamic
If this sounds familiar, you’re right! It’s just the shapes all over again:
curved lines make round shapes
straight lines with obtuse/right angles make boxy shapes
diagonal lines with acute angles make triangular shapes
But lo! Since we broke the shapes into their smaller components, it’s much more flexible! Now we can use lines and angles for more complex designs:
2. Silhouette => External and Internal Silhouettes
Last time, I explained the silhouette test: if you black out the figure, it should still be readable.
Problem: blacking out the figure only tests the outline of the design, i.e. the external silhouette. But what about the inside of the design?
Solution: block in the figure and test for the internal silhouette!
If you want not just an interesting outline, but an interesting costume, block in the major components of your design to see if it has a readable internal silhouette. This test can help you avoid boring or cluttered costumes and makes your design stand out. If your internal silhouette is too empty, try adding props or designs. If it’s too busy, simplify it.
3. Colors => Values
Last time, I talked about the 60-30-10 and 70-30 rules for color.
Problem: those rules work on the assumption that you’re only using 2 to 3 colors. But what if I want to use more colors?
Solution: good news! The same idea applies if you split your palette into 3 major values: shadows,midtones, and highlights.
Balance your palette by converting your colors to grayscale and applying the 60-30-10 rule to the values. This is related to the idea of silhouettes; if you get a nice internal silhouette, you’ll probably end up with a nicely balanced set of palette values, and vice versa.
“Good artists copy, great artists steal!” -Picasso
Problem: Coming up with something 100% original is tedious and doesn’t always give great results. It saps the inspiration right out of you!
Solution: It’s a lot easier to steal ideas from references!
Note: don’t just copy, steal! Cherry-pick/massage the aspects of the reference you find the most appealing and work them into your design. Ditch anything that you don’t care about. Make it your own! Make it something you can put your own name on! Below is the reference image I used for my designs:
And below is my fanart:
That’s it for now! Thanks for reading! If you guys want to see any other topics, feel free to ask and I can try my hand at it.
If you want to see my previous character design tips, click here. If you want to see the full-size Power Rangers fanart lineup, click here. If you want to see other character designs I’ve done, click here.
Good! A little bit. A tiny bit. Très bien et toi ?(very good and you?)
Very good, thank you. We start our interviews with “can you give us your five favourites words in English or French. Or a French sentence”. Someone told me you knew a French sentence.
Comment vous faites un café si délicieux? (How do you make such a delicious coffee?)
OK, that’s good.
That’s all I have.
Do you say it very often?
What does France mean to you? Is it something, someone etc...?
Best people I’ve known... I think her, *shows a fan* I guess. Fabien Barthez.
Yes, Fabien Barthez. Harry, you’re 23 years old and you’re one of the best known pop-star in the world. Everybody has expectations with your new album and single Sign Of The Times. Why did you choose that song? This is not what people were expecting.
I think I wanted to.. I've always liked music that made me feel something. You know I think writing it I could feet something I wanted to bring it out. I think it's a good indicator for me of what the album is to me. That's why I wanted to go with that first.
Billboard wrote that the single was "one of the more ambitious opening statements in pop this decade". Not bad, isn't it?
Do you have friends working at Billboard?
I don't know anyone at Billboard.
When we listen to the song we think of David Bowie, Queen, who else did you think of?
I mean, I think everyone, anything, any song you've ever listened to growing up or throughout your life or you've enjoyed, inspired you. There are a lot of different things. I wanted to just write and see what came out. I didn't know what I sounded like to make an album. So this process was as interesting for me as I think it will be for people listening to the album for the first time.
Do you know French singers other than Serge Gainsbourg? That's a tricky question.
I know Woodkid. He directed my music video.
I think his videos are amazing, he's a really talented guy and I love French people so I worked with him.
When you're in Spain, do you say that you love Spanish people?
It seems like everything has been easy...
You think so? It's French.
It's not a Spanish tie, isn't it?
Can I see your loafer? Oh yes! What is the brand? That's not French, isn't it? It's Italian.
That's from the European Union!
It seems like everything has been easy for you, is it true?
Was what simple?
Your life, everybody wants a life like yours, with One Direction...
I mean, I feel very lucky to be able to make music, I feel very lucky to be able to make this, I feel very lucky today being in France and performing my song. I love this song. I can't complain.
What were the unpleasant things?
I don't know, say only one thing.
I think when you care so much about something, it's hard to get to the point where you feel like it's finished and it feels like you're adding and it never ends and it adds up. So I think the hardest part was getting into that point and be like "ok that's finished."
You said to the Rolling Stone magazine that most of the album was inspired by a woman. Really?
No I think, honestly, the album is much more about me than it is about anyone else. I think if I said the album is about a woman it kind of feels like, I don't know, I put a lot of work into this. I don't feel like it revolves around woman. It's a lot about me and things I've never said before. It's more about me.
How did you start with a boy band and end with a solo career? Is it complicated?
It's been a lot of fun. You know we were very lucky to get to do some amazing things and at the moment in our lives, we're in a time where everyone is trying their own thing and have a good time. It's been amazing to see everyone doing their own thing as well. If I can do as well as the others, it'd be amazing.
Do you call them everyday or text them? Do you use What's app?
I don't have that.
Yes we talk, absolutely. And everyone is bringing stuff out. It's been a lot going on. It's been a good time.
This is the album cover! Can you describe it? Why did you choose this picture?
Yeah. So, I don't know. I worked with photographer Harley Weir, I'm a massive fan of her work. And that's amazing and I was lucky enough to work with her. I felt like this was what I wanted.
Why is it pink? Why the water? Why your back? Why? It's beautiful but why is it pink?
I don't know, man!
Really? You don't know?
I don't know. I don't think I want...
Apparently pink is Rock'n'roll's colour.
Apparently so. I don't know. I think it means something to me and if it means anything to anyone else, I wouldn't want to take away from that by explaining it. I think the cool thing about stuff like photos and art is you can just leave it. You don't have to explain it.
Everybody sees what they want to see.
Have you seen this?
*video of people reacting to Harry's single*
Your fans record themselves while listening to the song for the first time. You can hear relevant analysis and apparently they all really liked it. Do you read what people say about you on social media? On Youtube, Twitter, Instagram? Do you use Instagram?
Yes I use it a little bit.
*The public disagrees with Harry*
Yes I use it a little bit. I mean I wish everyone was having as good time as the girl who was like that with her hands. That's what I do when I listen to the song.
Are you the one using your Instagram? Do you use your own fingers or someone else does it for you?
Yes, I do mine.
Do you still vote in Redditch?
That's where I was born?
I don't live in Redditch.
So you don't vote there. Where did you vote?
What do you think of the Brexit? Welcome to Europe!
Thank you very much, thanks. I mean, I don't really comment on politics. To me, anything that brings people together is better than things that pull people apart. That's ... yeah.
Yet, you are in favour of equality of rights, men, women, gay people, straight people... That's politics.
I don't know. It doesn't feel like politics. I think stuff like equality feels much more fundamental. I feel like everyone is equal. That doesn't feel like politics to me.
Your fans are fetishists. They know all of your tattoos, piece of jewellery, they have heart attacks when you cut your hair. Right now you're playing with their feelings. Do you know that?
Yes! What is your favourite tattoo?
I think... I have a.. probably. I don't know, actually.
Which one is the latest?
The latest is this one there. *shows Arlo* And this one. *shows Jackson*
Jackson? All of them?
What's the story behind your haircut? How much did you spend on hair products with One Direction?
Yeah, like a lot. I used a lot, yeah.
You're in Dunkirk, Christopher Nolan's new movie.
How did you do?
Look at you there.
I am, that's me.
I auditioned and it was great. It's going to be a really cool movie.
Harry, it feels like we know you since you're a baby. The whole world discovered you in 2010 on X Factor.
*video of Harry's X Factor audition*
You auditioned alone but Simon Cowell had an idea... he put you in a band with Zayn, Louis, Liam and Niall. You became One Direction. You found the name One Direction and you sold millions of albums. One Direction are soon considered as the new Beattles and you filled the biggest stadiums. The whole world was talking about you. When you go out we prayed for your eardrums. You became UK's pride. David Cameron is in one of your music videos, your sang for the Queen. But in 2015... bang! Zayn left the band, fans couldn't get over it. But don't worry, their favourite is now on the cover of the Rolling Stone magazine, he's in Christopher Nolan's new movie, he's Mick Jagger on SNL... What you don't know is that we've met in 2012. You were in France to promote an album and now I have questions. First one! When you're in a car and fans are all around you, do you see that?
*video of fans around a car*
I think I've actually lost my shoe there. When I got in the car... I got in the car and I was like "how many shoes do I have?" Yes I lost my shoe.
I have another question! Do you still do that before going on stage?
*video of Harry and Lou*
Can we do it?
*does it anyway*
What is the weirdest question someone asked you?
I think it was actually a French interview. I got asked if I would pee in a sink... Yeah.
Ok, that's weird!
It was the first question, the first question.
It puts you in the mood.
What is the question you never want to be asked ever again? Did I asked you that question?
*Harry asks the public*
Which one? Oh crush.
Oh ok. I didn't ask it! Did you know that a French author wrote a novel about you. It's called "Styles", it's about his obsession with you. It's in French. You can translate it.
Oh! Is that true?
Yes it's true. He dedicated to you. It's called "Styles" and it's a really good book. Read it!
Thank you very much Harry Styles for coming tonight. His first eponymous album comes out on the 12th May. Thank you Harry Styles.
In general there is like. a whole category of Voltron angst premises that utterly fails to make me feel anything because it often severely underestimates the strength of the characters that it proposes to be breaking.
Like… Listen. Lance pretty dang likely had internal injuries and had spent a pretty impressive amount of time unresponsive and he woke up like that and shot Sendak in the shoulder before nearly back out again. This tells us Lance woke up, probably in no small amount of pain, probably pretty loopy since he remembered absolutely none of it afterwards, and the absolute first thing that occurred to him to do is Sendak was right there and he had a clear shot so, fuck that guy. He got in that situation in the first place because he saw a bomb going off and his first priority was to protect Coran- who at the time he’d known for… days, maybe?
Pidge, the fourteen-year-old, who was pretty much entirely alone on the castle during that same time, having just lost contact with Allura, losing Rover and then hearing Shiro get tortured by Sendak- still kept her head about her enough to try and bait Sendak off with a hologram and was a major part of that fight. I mean. literally, take this emotionally compromised kid and go “you’re officially alone on a spaceship with murderous adult soldiers. They have your friends. They’re hurting your friends. You are the only one in position to do anything. Have fun.” And she won.
Keith had his shoulder hacked pretty impressively in the first room of the Trial of Marmora and was given multiple opportunities to bail with a pretty clear pattern that the next room would be worse and have more attackers and Shiro states it as a given that Keith will not give up. Kolivan unambiguously tells him going in this is a life-or-death scenario. This is also Keith who willingly soloed freaking Zarkon with Coran actively telling him that he had no chance of surviving that fight because Zarkon is not getting the Black Lion.
Allura destroyed the last thing she had of her father in order to protect her team and let herself be captured by Zarkon in order to protect Shiro. She caught her second wind and held out against Haggar as best as she possibly could even knowing those odds were not good.
Coran picked a fight with Zarkon’s entire fleet piloting a ship ten thousand years old, alone, and did pretty dang good.
Hunk actively, voluntarily, and enthusiastically picked a fight with a planet-eating monster stated to be one of the most dangerous things in space and long before that, all of his misgivings about signing up to save the universe evaporated like morning dew in the Sahara as soon as he saw what Shay and her people were going through.
A lot of “angst” content seems to really disrespect or even ignore that these people are fighters. Survivors. These aren’t people who flake under pressure. In Shiro’s case, he literally never would have made it if he was. We see that at his worst, during his missing year, when he was utterly baffled by the idea anyone would help him and was pretty unsubtly about to be knocked out and experimented on- he was full of fight. There wasn’t much he could do but he wasn’t going down easily and if nothing else, the fact that there were two good-sized soldiers in full armor in the room taking the role of sedating him would tell us that Shiro didn’t exactly obediently walk to that room in the first place.
I see a lot of stuff that acts like Lance could get captured and in the time it’d take the team to get to him he could be ‘turned to the dark side’ or broken as a person and it’s like… the empire had a solid year to work on Shiro when the latter had the assumption that no one who would want to help him would even have the technology to reach him or even know he was alive in the first place and the empire didn’t win. What honestly makes you think they could take a month and destroy any of the team?
I’m calling it “Yurio Catches Puberty” as a working title. (PG for swearing and puberty.) (Warning for body image stuff, very minor.)
“WHEN WILL THIS BE OVER?”
The scream of anguish from the rink’s locker room shower made Yuuri look up sharply. He’d only arrived in St. Petersburg yesterday, but this couldn’t be normal, even if nobody else seemed to be paying the slightest attention.
It was definitely Yurio.
“Yurio?” he started to ask, but Georgi clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Don’t engage,” he hissed.
Yuuri looked at him, wide-eyed.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, as Yurio began a steady, at least quieter stream of cursing in Russian, then English, then Japanese that Yuuri definitely hadn’t taught him.
“Puberty,” Georgi said.
Yuuri blinked. “Puberty?” he asked.
Georgi gave him a disgusted look. “Of course,” he mumbled to himself. “The golden boy didn’t suffer puberty…”
He wandered off, now also cursing, and Yuuri had ten seconds of silence before Yurio kicked the shower door open and strode out, towel around his waist.
╳ Summary: Being roommates with your best friend can be fun until one day you look at him differently.
(this is something that I found that I had written months ago and just decided to post it!!)
The day you looked at your best friend as more than a friend, you knew you were screwed. It happened out of nowhere. You just woke up one morning and looked at him differently. You were never going to tell anyone, you weren’t stupid. That would just lead to Jimin being freaked out and nothing being the same. Risking your friendship with Jimin was not worth the little crush you had on him.
Deciding that you couldn’t fall back asleep, you got up to start the morning. Walking into the kitchen to get some breakfast, you didn’t notice your best friend standing there.
“Holy shit! Jimin, you scared me!” You yelled, clutching your chest.
“What’s gotten you so jumpy?” Jimin asks, laughing while opening the refrigerator
hello, people! summer break just started for me and i’m so
excited for what’s to come! i figured that making a masterpost would make it official and also would give everyone some ideas how to spend it fruitfully!!
let’s begin fellas :’)
- the day school ends -
aka the day when you realize that you have days and days
ahead of you and don’t know where to start
deep clean your room – this will give you he feeling that
summer has actually begun and plus you now have a clean room haha
make a new playlist (a big one, okay?) – these are super fun
to make and also summer does deserve some new funky and sporty songs in its bag
relax – go pamper yourself; get that double scoop ice-cream,
go to spa, maybe get your nails and hair done. you have survived till summer
break and you deserve this!
try to sort out your tasks and assignments into your planner
– I know this can be tough, especially at the start when holidays have just
begun; but try to at least plan out for the next week or two. maybe you want to
work on that essay or write out those notes – planning will def help you to
feel organized and get back your life in place.
- the following weeks -
gET THAT SHIT DONE NOW!!! SERIOUSLY DO IT!! DON’T PUT IT OFF
TILL THE LAST WEEK!!! DO IT FAM, DO IT!!! (im low-key saving your butts with
this tip, please listen to me) – write out those essays till they are perfect,
solve that problem set till its ingrained in your brain, do your readings and
write those notes. do it!!
combine that shit with fun stuff (see below) don’t
burn yourself out please. and most importantly do not stress!!!11!!!!!
connect with people. call that friend you forgot about and
that aunt who has been asking you over for dinner for ages. summer gives you
the time to rekindle your relationships and seriously though, connecting with people
will make your life much happier.
get a new hobby!! do you draw? paint? write? whatever you do
– start doing it. use that time which you spend on the internet in exploring
your passions and finding your interests.
seriously though, do that work first.
- some (fun) stuff to do in summer -
clean your closet (do it mate)
compliment people more
smile at strangers often
vlog your days. maybe start a YouTube channel for this?
revamp your blog
learn coding and revamp that shitty theme of yours (this
applies for me, chill)
keep a gratitude journal
go a week without any social media (this will be hard, but
go hiking or cycling with a friend
read 7-8 books or as many books as you please
have a do nothing day - treat yourself love!
learn a new kind of dance - this is really fun, i promise
go a whole day with any technology
do a 30 day challenge!!
seek out an interesting article to read everyday
go camping in the hills
have a bonfire!! roast marshmallows (or burn old notes lmao)
learn to knit/sew
save up!! (…they blow it all in a single day? lmao don’t though)
star gazing on a clear night!!
talk till dawn about random shit with a random person
a no makeup day – let your skin breathe
go on a family trip!
visit a sanctuary or a zoo with a younger sibling or smol
there are endless possibilities!! these are just some to get
- the last few days -
yo remember you still have winter break to come this year!! don’t
be sad, fam!!
have a dance party in your room with your favourite music on
(bc you only live once)
check and recheck if you got all that work done (if you didn’t,
rip you haha)
check your school’s site for new updates and stuff (I bet you
don’t do this though)
annnnd then enjoy your last day!! trust me - you’re going to
have an amazing term ahead of this!!
Hope this helps! + you can always send me requests for masterposts since my ask box is always open! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡
Q: Out of the three, who is the most trustworthy member? B & C: The oldest hyung, Xiumin hyung! X: For me, also me! B: Xiumin hyung also knows restaurants well. He orders food quickly… lastly, he knows what to order for us.
Q: Out of the three, who is the most courageous and cool member? X: I think it’s me! B: No! It’s me!! I look really cool when playing games. C: Xiumin hyung is a manly person who’s strong-minded. X: That’s correct! B: Also, Xiumin hyung is the type who can plan on his own. He’s manly and feels like an adult. Chen can also be by himself so he’s manly and cool.
Q: Tell something you find cute about the members. B: Xiumin hyung has a cat. He is very attached to his cat. I’m not sure if Xiumin hyung is raising the cat or the cat is raising Xiumin hyung. (laughs) When he’s taking care of the cat, he never leaves home. It’s really cute how he cares for the cat all day. X: It’s cute when Baekhyun uses casual language with me, saying “Ya!” or taking out the title ‘형’ (hyung). B: Of course, that’s my endearment to you.
Q: If you can explain shortly a member’s personality. B: Baekhyun is like a 'Happy Virus’ who can make those around him happy. He’s versatile and has good sense… He’s good in everything, except sports. B: (laughs) Still, I can snowboard and know how to play pool, too! C: But you can’t run, right? Your running form looks weird so it’s very awkward! B: There was this scene that I shot before, Xiumin hyung and Chen said “Haven’t you ever run in your whole life before this?” X: Still, Baekhyun is good at gaming, singing and impersonating, so it’s really fun with him around. In EXO, his existence is important. C: Without Baekhyun, maybe EXO would have been a boring group. B: Yes, yes. That’s right, correct. (laughs)
Q: Who is the funniest out of the three? X & C: Baekhyunnie!! B: Hmm… So it’s me. (laughs) B: Sometimes, there’re so many funny things going inside my head that I wonder to myself “Ya~ How could I have thought of such a funny idea?”. I’m surprised by my sense. It’s inborn. X: But there’s a drawback. If he chatters too much, you have to grab him by the nape to stop him.
Q: Is there one thing you want to fix about a member? X: Yes, I’ll tell Baekhyun. B: I knew it’d be me… X: I hope he gets up faster. B: I have 15 minutes to get ready before going out. But I take 20 minutes to prepare. X: During that 5 minutes, everyone is waiting. It’s not that he can’t wake up, he won’t wake up. C: He’ll say “I won’t get up!”. He will stubbornly not get up. (laughs) B: I’ll talk too! Actually these two didn’t know how to play pool. But they are getting better lately. I hope they don’t get any better. X & C: Booo~
I’m a new dm for a group of relatively new players, running a short campaign ‘cause I wanted to try my hand at dming and they wanted to play.
Long story short, the players have to convince the ghost of an ancient king to give them the password to open a secret vault and get the treasure as they were hired to do. I’ve decided to play the king, Caul, as a semi-genocidal and extremely lonely old man who doesn’t want the conversation to end. I’d been having fun distracting them talking about skee ball, murder, and Caul’s beautiful wife whom he loved very much, but they finally got out of him some important info.
Ollie, the party warlock: So, you’re waiting for the “chosen ones,” and you’ll tell them the password?
Caul: Yes, that’s right. Oh, I’ve been down here for so LONG, you have no IDEA-
Ollie, OOC: Can I just, like, convince him we’re the chosen ones?
Me, OOC: Sure, roll persuasion.
I was going to make something that obvious a tough roll, as this conversation was meant to be akin to a boss fight in difficulty. I figured they’d have to get a 20 to successfully convince him with just one roll. I wanted them to test their roleplaying capabilities and have a little fun with it instead, and Ollie hadn’t rolled above a 10 all evening so I wasn’t worried.
Ollie: *rolls 19, +3 to get 22* HAHA
Me, OOC: Oh shit, okay. Um, so what do you say?
Ollie, OOC: I convince him we’re the chosen ones?
Me, OOC: Yeah, but how? What do you say to convince him?
Ollie, after much deliberation: We are the chosen ones.
Our intro shot of the karaoke bar introduces our players. I’m especially interested in how we see Mari and Sara twice each (and sharing one shot).
May I just say: I am glad my son Eskild is alive and Extra.
We have Chris talking to Sara (we don’t see Sara’s face but it’s her jumper) 👀
In general we have a big focus on couples (including Evak) and russebussen people. Showing, again, this season’s themes (love and identities/belongings).
We have some Chris and Eva talking about wiring money, which seems like foreshadowing to the russebuss contract and payment.
Even is about to sing and no one ships Evak more than Magnus.
@newlevelofdesperate wrote a great meta about Even singing “Imagine” by John Lennon. I agree with most of it. I’ll just add that the song is ironic, just like “I’m Not In Love” in s3e5. “Imagine all the people living life in peace.” Sana is feeling the song at the moment. She feels that everything came together, finally. But it’s not true. She wished she could create world peace (if you gave her the power to do so she would, she really would). But she can’t. Some things are beyond her reach and she still hasn’t managed to reconcile her two identities (Norwegian & Muslim). Also, I think the song is as much an Even song as a Sana one. Once again.
We barely see Mikael walk in, and Elias and the gang look around. Yousef seems to be looking in the crowd for Sana.
No shot of the squad until we get a shot of Even seeing them. Then Magnus and Jonas turn to see where Even is looking (not Isak or Mahdi) and we get another shot of balloon squad: no Mikael. Adam and Mutta seem unconcerned. Elias though sees Even and is not smiling (but he’s not looking mad either).
He grabs Yousef who was smiling towards Sana and…the smile falters.
[this is getting long so I’m adding a “read more”]
Summary: Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well.
A/N:Can you believe that I managed to come up with a quick update? Me neither.
Monotone, drowning in tedium — that was how your first Monday class begun. Somewhere deep inside your mind, you could hear your teacher going on about an empty subject, filling the air inside the classroom with disconex sentences and incomprehensible claims; your own perception far beyond the yellowed walls of that room. Perhaps, sitting on the last row was not helping your lack of focus; but, much to your personal bliss, Jennie was right next to you, taking the notes you would make sure to use later.
In all honesty, your mind was in the same location as before: the party. Equivalent to what unfolded during the weekend, the story repeated itself amidst your tired daydreams; dragging your consciousness towards the bubbling, divergent feelings inside your chest. Unlike what you first expected, the anguish and guilt of your acts did not last longer than the ride back to your dorm, instead morphing into a sense of curiosity. After all, there were so many details that you waited to be presented with — the second step, the collateral damage it would have on your friendship and, more than anything, Jimin’s reaction.
You just did not expect it would come that instant.
The cloudy preoccupations of your chaotic thoughts dissipated as a light buzz sounded below you, your phone lighting up with a new notification. With a frown, you stared down at the illuminated screen, eyes falling to the white text.
The second you read it, your heart skipped a beat.
Summary: Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung bullied you in high school and by some sick joke the universe was playing on you, 2 years later Jungkook was attending the same University as you. Even sicker joke was being stuck with him doing a project on ‘Sex in Cinema’ for a whole semester. Go figure.
Warnings: Smut, a lot of dirty talk holy shit (I can’t help it), oral, masturbation, overstimulation.
2 years earlier:
You walked down the road, almost around midnight, trying to get home as fast as possible the chilly rainy weather. Not to mention the truck that was trailing behind you and the screams and shouts of “wait up thunder thighs!” and “stop running away like a little bitch!” coming from the 3 boys who occupied it. Wrapping your arms around yourself to feel just an ounce of warmth, you willed yourself to ignore these bastards and walk faster. ‘I’m almost home, I’m almost home’ repeating it like a mantra in your head. Really, it was a stupid idea to think that you could enjoy a last high school party with your friends who were the complete opposite of you. After all, when the three most popular boys of the school were determined to make your life a living hell, why would anyone else want to treat you different in this extremely cliché scenario. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly was it about you that made them hate you so much.
From the time that you can remember, and you remembered a lot, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook had always despised you. It’s like they couldn’t stand your existence. When you would be at the library helping out by staying late, they would wait after school, yes they would go out of their way to stay at school longer, to make sure that your walk home was as stressful as possible. Making fun of pretty much anything and everything you did was a normal occurrence. You had just learned to live with it, but not today.
You suddenly started to slow your pace. They are cowards, you thought. What can they possibly do? Always taunting, always calling names, always making you feel shit about anything you took interest in. But they were all talk right? You thought, huffing out. People like them walk in groups because they can’t actually do anything alone. You don’t know what came over you, but you suddenly stopped and turned around slowly. The truck that the boys were trailing behind you also slowed and stopped a few meters away.
The one driving was Jimin, while Taehyung sat beside him and Jungkook stood, head poking out of the truck’s opening in the ceiling. You stood defiantly, shaking from the growing rain, your hair soaked and hands tightly by your side. Silently daring them to charge the truck towards you. ‘They won’t do it, they’re cowards’ you thought, your confidence growing slowly. You couldn’t tell where this adrenaline rush had come from to give you such courage to finally stand your ground, just a few weeks away from graduation. You could see Taehyung’s cunning, and terrifyingly psychotic grin widening as he relentlessly whispered in Jimin’s ear, whose grip on the wheel was tightening as he looked you right in the eyes. Jungkook was laughing. He apparently found the situation so amusing, that you decided now to grow a spine and challenge them. Suddenly, the sound of the engine revving was as loud as the rain.
It all went pretty much downhill from there. The last thing you remembered was your too loud heartbeat, the bright flash from the truck and Jungkook’s face suddenly forming a horrified expression as if he wasn’t just laughing at you.
You weren’t looking for him specifically among the crowd flooding into the lecture hall. But something did happen inside you when you spotted him. A kind of lightness, or a lifting of some heavy part of yourself. Everything was settling into a nice, normal routine. You were going about your daily lives in an ordinary manner, and you were doing it completely separately.
He sat in the fourth row, and you sat at the back. Only now there was no rising sense of dread. You didn’t keep your hand to yourself when the lecturer asked a question. You answered, without the background sound of someone snickering. And even when it felt as though he was looking at you, when you snuck a glance at him you only ever saw the back of his head.
He bent low over his notes, and his head occasionally lifted a little as he really listened to whatever the lecturer was saying. Once or twice you actually caught him nodding, or doing a little staggered-looking half laugh over some ridiculous concept.
As if he loved it all now.
He loved it so much he was sometimes at the lectures early. You would come in with Y/B/F, still giggling over something ridiculous, and get the faint prickle that told you he was already there. Only now when it happened it didn’t make you want to cover herself up, or run and hide. There was nothing to hide from. Everything was going to be super cool and totally fine from here on in. Or it would have been, if it were not for the group project. The one that you were so excited for that you didn’t process it when your lecturer started reading out the names. You would be working with Y/B/F—that was a given. They were going to watch ridiculously filthy movies together and laugh about bobbing butts and ogle Ewan McGregor’s penis.
And then you heard his name.
Followed by yours.
Distantly, like in a dream of being in class.
“Miss Y/L/N, do you have a problem with that assignment?”
Everyone was looking at you now. No—not just looking. Examining, as though You had become a new and baffling species. The girl who was not excited about being carried by Jungkook. The creature who seemed horrified at the prospect of working with him. It made it difficult to do anything at all, even with Y/B/F urging you to say yes, yes I do have a fucking problem. Though You still didn’t expect the shake of you head to happen. Just one little accidental shake of you head and that was it. Your lecturer moved on to his next victim, leaving you in something You once had a nightmare about in ninth grade. Working with Jungkook. On a semester-long project.
About sex in cinema.
“Don’t worry, we can fix this. Just go to his office and talk to him privately about it. He would have to be Satan himself to not understand,” You heard Y/B/F whisper.
But the words seemed even further away than you name had when your lecturer read it out.
“Right. Right. Yeah. You’re right.”
“I can come with you if you want.”
“No, that’s okay. That’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been punched. In the face. With a small nuclear blast.”
“I’m sure,” You said, but soon came to regret that firmness in your voice. The steady nod that told Y/B/F it was okay for you to go in a different direction once you were outside. It only meant that You were on your own when you got to the tiny hallway outside your lecturer’s door.
And saw that Jungkook was already waiting.
Of course he was—he probably had the same concerns as you. No matter how sorry he was or what he thought of being in the red and being wrong, he would never want to work in close quarters with you for the entire semester. In fact, him being sorry likely made the situation seem worse to him. Most likely he had calculated all the awkward conversations you guys would have to have and how far apart he would have to stand to keep you comfortable, and found it as unbearable as you did.
Even though his expression seemed to say something else.
Oh god. His expression was saying something else.
Then he held up his hands, as though to calm you.
And you knew.
“All right, Y/N, I know that you’re probably thinking it’s way better if you do this project with that gal pal of yours, but wait, okay? I got reasons why this is gonna be fine.”
“Is that seriously why you’re here? To stop me asking to switch us?”
“Well…no. Not stop you exactly. Stop is a really strong word.”
“While I’m glad you’ve learned that—” You said, your voice briefly catching when you saw his wince. He winced, your mind hissed, before you forced yourself to finish. “I still think it covers what’s happening here.”
“I just wanted to talk to you about it for a second. Just, like, hear me out.”
“I want to. I really do. But come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday. This has all the hallmarks of some kind of trap or prank or joke at my expense.”
“How could it possibly be a trap or prank? He put people together based on…I don’t even know what he put people together based on. But it couldn’t have had anything to do with me.”
You searched his face, looking for the lie. Waiting for him to show some hint of bullshit, beneath those too-kind eyes and his spread hands and the obvious logic of what he was saying.
Only there was nothing, nothing, nothing.
And it made no difference at all.
“Okay, I buy that. I do. Yet the fact still remains: I cannot do a project with you. Ever. You have to know that doing anything like that is completely impossible for me. Right?”
“I was just thinking that maybe…maybe you could give it a chance. You know, now that we’re on speaking terms and everything is almost cool between us.”
“You think everything is cool between us?”
“Well, maybe not cool exactly. More like…okay.”
“Still need to dial it back a notch, chief.”
“Reasonable? Not bad? Kind of semi decent?”
“That last one is getting close.”
He sighed, shoulders sagging.
Relenting, you thought. He’s actually relenting.
“Fine, we are a fucking disaster.”
“Now you’re getting the idea,” You said.
“But I figure we can work on it.”
“By doing a project on sex in the cinema together?”
“Well,” he said. “When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”
“There’s no other way to put it! That is literally what you’re suggesting.”
“Yeah, I get that. I just…want to not get that. I want it to be easier or better or just not the way this is.”
“That could have been my daily prayer in high school, Jungkook.”
He didn’t react the way You expected to, with more weird arguing.
He just closed his eyes.
He closed them like someone had just told him his family had been in a fatal accident.
“I wish I could go back and start over again. More than wish—I would give everything I have to start over again. The wrestling, this scholarship, every party I ever went to and every fun thing I ever did. And you can choose to not believe me about that, but—”
“I believe you.”
“I’m as surprised as you are, but yeah.”
“Then why does this have to be such a big deal?”
You thought of Y/B/F saying attempted murder.
“Y/N that is fucking attempted murder. Babe, you don’t have to feel bad about anything you put him through now. His friends and him included, ran you over with a fucking truck. How much physio and other therapy sessions did you have to go through because of them, huh?”
The terror that used to flood you when he walked down the hall.
That ever-present sensation of a grille barrelling into your body.
“Because understanding that someone is truly sorry and wanting to spend huge amounts of time with them are two different things. I might see that you mean this, and know rationally that I can almost sort of trust you. Maybe I even want it to be that easy, too. But your face is the one I had nightmares about for two years. Your smile doesn’t seem happy to me. I associate it with cruelty.”
You shook your head. Glanced away from him so you didn’t have to see the defeated look on his face.
“It’s hard for me to look at you, Jungkook, no matter how much I appreciate what you’ve done here.”
“That was a really well-thought-out and logically sound speech.”
“I know it was. I’m pretty proud.”
“And I have no argument against it.”
“You don’t need one. What you’ve done here…” You gritted your teeth hard and looked at the ceiling. But this time it didn’t stop the tears. They were already welling up by the time You explained the rest to him.
“It means a lot. And a million men would never have done the same, I can promise you. I don’t have any messages from Jimin on my phone. Taehyung isn’t going to call anytime soon. It’s just you, a rare fantasy in the middle of all this dismal reality.”
He turned around when you were done. All the way around—and then his arms went up to cover his head and you understood. What you said had affected him, strongly. Maybe more than his words had affected you. It took him twice as long to get it together, and even after he had he couldn’t quite look at you. He just kept staring at the wall and clenching his jaw.
And saying things. Oh yeah, he said things, in a strained, shaky voice.
“I meant what I said, you know. That you are the very best.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to ask you not to say it again.”
“I can’t stop. I have the opposite of whatever idiocy infected me in high school.”
“What, like insane-need-to-compliment fever?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” he said.
“Well it has taken a raging hold of you, let me tell you.”
“I know it seriously cannot be stopped.”
“I think you have a terminal case.”
“Not a bad way to go, if you ask me,” he said, so soft and sincere it took all your strength to stop yourself smiling in response. You could feel your lips trembling. Your cheeks ached with the effort of pinning them down, yet still You knew you were failing. You could see it in his satisfied expression.
And hear it in his words.
“That’s better. Seeing you look happy.”
“I am happy,” You said, then added without thinking: “Are you?”
Of course you didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a polite habit, based on interactions with people other than Jungkook. People who had actual problems, who lived troubled lives, who might answer with a god no. Jungkook would never need to answer with a god no. His life was full of endless possibilities and unfettered glory. He could snap his fingers and have a thousand people follow him to the ends of the earth.
He even looked that way, in the dim light of the narrow hallway between these offices.His hair was the colour of dark chocolate. Every item of clothing suited him perfectly, from the rich grey-blue of his V-neck to the jeans he’d tucked into his timberlands. He exuded cool from every pore; he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine.Yet all you could see was his face as it slowly sagged. It was like watching someone cut the strings that had held a mask in place—a mask you hadn’t known he was wearing. You thought that smiling golden god who had tormented you was the real him, but for a second you couldn’t be sure. Just for one heart-rattling second, and then the door to the office opened and that glimpse of something else was gone—so fast You would imagine later that it had never existed.
It was just a trick of the light.
Better to focus on the real and the now.
“What can I do for you two today?” Professor asked.
Then you took a breath and answered.
“Nothing,” You said.
A few weeks later:
After that day, you didn’t know how or why you suddenly decided to give working with him a try, but so far, it was going…. okay. You two met up at the library, took your notes, glancing at each other once in a while, mostly Jungkook, asking each other questions relevant to their awkward topic given the situation and that was that. He made jokes sometimes that managed to get out a few carefree laughs out of you as well. It was all… comfortable. Nothing that you had expected. That is why, you decided, it was time to move on to watching actual movies for references, in your project.
It was nearly one in the morning, on a Wednesday night when you went to get him as your friend was out and that was the only time Jungkook was free after wrestling practice. Everyone was in bed, and it gave an eerie feeling to your journey back to your dorm.
As did his silence.
He was always talking—You realized that then. Sometimes he practically kept up a running commentary on everything and anything, yet here he was as quiet as stone. And it wasn’t because he was exerting himself. He didn’t breathe hard once the whole time. He could have been carrying a backpack full of air. But the idea of mental trouble lingered. When you tilted your head a little, you could practically hear his mind going over and over things, in a way that just wasn’t like him. He was easy-going. Happy-go-lucky. He never worried about things the way you did.
“Jungkook, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You just seem a little…”
Like an ominous statue of yourself.
“I was just thinking what movie we should watch.”
“Oh. Oh. You mean…right now?” You asked.
“Well, that’s what you came to get me for.”
“That’s true, I did come and get you for that.”
“Unless you don’t want me in your room so late.”
“No, no why would I…no, that’s cool.”
“You’re in the Jubilee Building, right?”
You had the strongest urge to ask him how he knew. But that seemed just as weird as objecting to him being in your room.
“Yeah. You just go past the science block and then—”
“Right, right, right I got it, I got it. The statue of Heo Nanseolheon is outside it, yeah?”
“That’s the one. Then it’s the third floor. Don’t worry though, there’s an elevator.”
“Ah, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”
“Do you wanna let me unlock the door?” you asked standing behind him when you both reached your dorm.
“Oh shit, yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he said moving his bulky body out of the way as you slid past him to unlock the door. Everything had returned to the way it should be now between you and Jungkook.
Except for the sexy movie you were now going to watch.
Alone. Together. On your bed. In the middle of the night.
You let him pick the movie, thinking that would make things easier somehow. Nothing could be misconstrued, at least, that way. He wouldn’t think you meant anything by your choice, whatever it might be. But you forgot that he might mean something with his choice. You watched the heroine trying to clumsily pick up the hero at the start of White Palace, and cringed so hard it felt more like a cramp in your gut. Your cheeks grew hot, in a way that made you grateful for the dim light of your feeble bedside lamp.
Otherwise he would see you face go red and know you understood his point—despite the fact that his point was fucking nonsense.
“This is even less realistic than Dirty Dancing.”
“Really? You think so? Like, in what way?” You asked.
“It just seems like she keeps pushing and pushing. No woman would push a guy that good-looking if he didn’t seem into it. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing.”
You didn’t look at him, but knew he shrugged.
His arm rubbed against yours as he did it.
“Maybe she doesn’t care.”
“I guess not.”
“Maybe she knows he’s actually into it.”
“That could be one explanation.” Jungkook says, sighing.
“Plus she obviously gets exactly what she was looking for.” He adds.
Onscreen, Susan Sarandon was going down on James Spader.
Which to you didn’t seem to back up his point at all.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s having a great time getting absolutely nothing out of this.”
“That’s what this looks like to you? Like she’s getting nothing out of this?”
“Well, in movies they make it look like she is. But I doubt she really would be.”
“You doubt that giving a guy a blow job could be enjoyable for a woman.”
You glanced at him then, just to see if his expression was as incredulous as his voice.
Then had to look back at the screen quickly. If anything, his expression was worse. He had one eyebrow raised, and there was almost no humour in his eyes. This was serious somehow.
Much too serious.
“I don’t know. I mean it’s not really something you do for your own enjoyment. You do it for his.”
“So to you there’s nothing pleasurable about it. Nothing sexy about having a guy at your mercy. Begging you, moaning for you, trying not to push too deep when it gets too good.”
Your breath hitched.
“You do those things?”
The words came out too fast. Too disbelieving, too.
But You just couldn’t stop them. They ripped out of you before you had time to talk it over with you mind, all ragged around the edges and maybe a little breathless. Just enough that he likely heard it, and wondered why. You couldn’t tell him, however. You didn’t know yourself.You only knew that when he started talking again You had the urge to put your fingers in your ears.
“Of course I do those things. Having your cock sucked is fucking amazing,” he said, which was absolutely fine.
But then he kept going.
He kept going.
“The heat and the slickness and her looking up at you as she works it with her hands and lips and tongue. Especially the tongue. The tongue is the best part. Watching it curl right around the—”
“Well, okay, it sounds cool when you put it that way.”
God your voice sounded loud. And too fast again, too. All your words practically jumbled together.
“I don’t know what other way it could possibly be.”
“How about hold still while I fuck your face? Some guy coming right in your eye? Losing a chunk of hair because he pulled too hard?”
“You’re not serious. Tell me honestly. None of that happened.”
Now his voice was bright with amusement. But it didn’t make you feel any better.
“All of that happened. To me. More than once.”
“Yeah but after…”
“After he came then he…”
He made a circle with his hand bobbing his head, as though you should know that one thing logically followed on from the other. It was all completely easy and obvious.
Instead of the hardest quiz you had ever had to get through.
“Then he what? Gave me cab fare?”
“No. No. After that then this happens.”
You glanced at the thing he was pointing at.
Then had to look away again, quick. At your hands, at the bedspread.
At him, as he oh-so-slowly realized what your sudden awkwardness meant.
“This has never happened to you. Holy shit. You’ve never had a guy go down on you.”
“I have had a guy go down on me. I totally have.”
“Are you sure about that? You don’t look sure.”
“Well, maybe not like this.”
“There’s no other way to do it. This is actually the most basic, ordinary way to go about eating pussy.”
At those words, you could feel the fire burning on your cheeks and your breathing getting laboured. Jungkook really had no filter.
“Yeah, but this seems really exciting and sexy and hot.”
“Going down on a girl is really exciting and sexy and hot. Like I said about giving a guy head? Exactly the same principle. You get to see you writhe and shake and push herself against your mouth. Just like that, just like Sarandon is doing. Look at her. Look at her.”
“I am. I am looking,” You said, but You weren’t, not really.
You were thinking of the shiver that had gone through you when he said look, soft as butter and so oddly tender. And the way that he was looking himself, eyes almost far away.
Like he was seeing Sarandon, but putting someone else in her place.
“Think about how it must feel.”
“Yeah I can…I get that…”
“Think about his tongue slowly easing over her soft folds.”
“Is that…how…is that what you…” You said, breathlessly
“And it works?”
You voice was a whisper now. But that was okay. His was, too. It was so low he had to lean close to ask you questions. He had to meet your gaze, and You had to meet his.
“It makes you…you know. Cum.”
“Oh yeah. But you gotta take your time.”
“I see. I guess that makes sense.” You were just babbling now, trying to keep up with him.
“Let it build, nice and slow. Start by just stroking her with your fingertips. Work her, you know, until her lips part. And then when she’s all open to you, you just trace the shape of her with your tongue. Lick and lick in these ever decreasing circles until you’re right…fucking…there.”
“Where? Where…where are you?”
You shouldn’t have asked. You knew you shouldn’t as soon as it was out. Your faces were too close together now, and his body seemed to be looming over yours. That was his shoulder, almost nudging your chin. And his thigh, pressing deep and hard into yours. His answer was never going to make any of this better.
Then it came, hotter than molten lava and twice as destructive.
“Her clit. Her slick, swollen clit.”
“I see. That makes sense,” You said, even though that wasn’t what you wanted to go with.
No, what you wanted to go with was more like oh my fucking God this can’t be reality.
“Then you just…stroke it.”
“Until she’s mindless.”
“Doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore, or doing. She might tell you to bite, to fuck her with your tongue and fingers, harder or faster or some word that doesn’t even make sense. Hips coming up to meet you, greedy for it, horny for it, so horny she barely notices that her hand is in your hair and she’s squeezing tight enough for it to sting, so close to coming that her whole body is shuddering and shivering and flushing that deep, good pink. Soon as you see it you just know she’s burning. That her clit is aching and throbbing and her pussy is all open and slippery, and one more second of this will make her come. She’s already coming, before you even know where you’re at. Hard, hard, hard, like she never has before.”
You were holding your breath by the time he was done. You practically had to—his face was so close now you could have blinked and brushed his cheek with your eyelashes. Every word he said seemed to stroke against your face, cool at first but then more heated. As though he was starting to boil alive inside, too. Certainly he looked that way. You have never seem him flushed like this, not even when he pushed himself during a match.
Not even when he was embarrassed.
Though you supposed that wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed now, and he’d just said all those words. He said clit and pussy and slippery, as if that was just a normal way to talk to your friend. And he did it all without flinching, too. Without glancing away or putting some distance between you. In fact, those eyes of his—now heavy lidded and so soft focus—seemed intent on you more than they ever had been before. They skittered all over you face, searching for something you had no idea how to give.
You didn’t even know what the something was.
You only knew that it made you forget yourself, just as he had described.
It made you search his face back, marvelling over every brutish line and gentle curve. Those lips of his, as plump as a girl’s yet so masculine at the same time. Every inch of them gleaming, as if he’d slicked them with gloss in anticipation of a kiss.
Though even in that moment you didn’t really believe you wanted that.
Until he whispered, low and heavy against your own lips.
“You can, you know.”
It jolted you, when he said it.
But not as much as realizing why he said it.
You followed his gaze down, and took in the unmistakable sight of your hand in your lap. Really, really high up in your lap. Almost between your legs, in fact—though that was fine, it was cool, it was okay. You stuttered ‘no, no I didn’t really want to do that’, but it didn’t matter.
Because his hand was actually between his legs.
“I do,” he said.
As the whole world as You knew it dissolved right in front of your eyes.
“Fuck, yes. I’m dying to.”
“Because of the film. Because of the movie.”
“Sure. We can say that, if you want.”
You closed your eyes. Swallowed thickly.
Wished hard that he hadn’t added that last part.
“If we could that would be awesome.”
“No problem. I mean it was probably inevitable that this would happen to us.”
“Probably, yeah. Almost definitely, in fact.”
“Just a natural response to a sexy movie.”
“Seems that way to me.”
“So you just slip your hand under your waistband, and I’ll slip my hand under mine,” he said, which was fine all on its own. The problem was that he then went ahead and did it. You tried not to look, but saw anyway. You saw the way he fumbled in his haste, as though all his talk was only calm on the surface. Underneath, something was paddling frantically. It was making his cheeks pink and his body all trembly.
And his dick hard. God, his cock was hard.
You could see that without even trying at all. The curving shape beneath his sweatpants was enormous and unmistakable, and even if it hadn’t been, his hand made it pretty clear. As You watched, he eased it over that solid length, before finally clasping it in a way that shoved the swollen head right up against the tented material. Now You could make out ruder details, like the thick ridge around the head, and the slit at the tip. Both pronounced, explicit, rude.
But that wasn’t what really got you.
It was the way he stopped to lick his palm, before shoving it
under his waistband.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, are you serious?”
“It’s cool. it’s fine. We don’t even have to look at each other.”
“No I guess not. I guess…I guess that I can just watch the screen.”
“We’re just two people getting off over a hot movie.”
But that wasn’t strictly true. You weren’t getting off over the movie at all. Nothing was even happening anymore—it was just rich people looking down their noses and arguments over a Dust buster. If anything, it was vaguely depressing, rather than lust-inducing.
Yet still You sat there, face burning, body tender and rigid all at the same time. Half of you stuffed so full of embarrassment and shock you sort of wanted to block everything out, the other half just shamelessly straining to hear every single tiny sound he made. Never daring to look, of course, but then…
You really didn’t need to.
He made so much noise that you could make out almost everything. Every little moan and gasp—and there were a lot of them, too. Lots of thick, guttural moans that started on an ah and ended with a kind of abrupt sigh, as though a knife had sliced through his throat before he could finish. So many soft mmms and gasps, like he honestly couldn’t get enough of whatever he was doing.
Though it was the whispers that hit you hardest. They got you right in the gut, low down and deep enough to ache. Oh yeah, he murmured, as though the hottest sex in the world was happening onscreen. As though they were fucking like animals, up and down and left and right. His tone even sounded sort of tremulous, and it got more intense as time went on. Soon he was panting, and rocking, and every now and then uttering something he was clearly imagining himself doing.
“Ah, yeah, suck my cock, just like that,” he said.
Then just to make it extra agonizing, he spat into his hand.
To make it extra slick, you thought, like someone’s mouth. Someone sucking him the way he’d described, slow and steady until he was actually shuddering, right here and now. The bed was moving, at least, and it wasn’t because he was working that cock hard. He wasn’t. He was going slow, so slow, squeezing and rolling rather than the short, fast kind of thing You’d always thought guys did. They almost never seemed to do anything else in porn…but then again they never did all this other stuff, too. You dared to turn you head a little more and saw to your astonishment that he had his hand pressed to his mouth. He was almost biting his fist, chest heaving, body shivering all over—but most important, eyes closed.
He couldn’t even see you looking. You were free to do as you pleased.Yet something held you back. You couldn’t seem to do more than peek out of the corner of you eye, and even that made you feel strange. You kept getting this clenching sensation—sort of like embarrassment or humiliation—and it got worse when his back arched. When he actually said out loud that he was almost there, that he was so close, that he was gonna come all over your duvet. I need something to do it on, he said, and even that had a shameful frisson of its own. You had a brief flash of him kneeling up and suddenly coming all over your face, or maybe pulling down that ridiculously large neck hole to expose your breasts.
Followed by an image of that thick white liquid coating you, striping you face, dripping off your tight little nipples. Him pushing his cock past your lips to finish off, groaning as he flooded your mouth.
And he would have flooded it, too. You glanced at him just in time to see him shove his sweatpants down, that big dick swelling under the pressure of his too-tight grip. Thick ribbons of come already hitting his bared belly, over and over until you were sure he must be done. He had to be, yet more kept flowing over his still-working fist. You watched it run down over his fingers in slippery trails before pooling in his lap.
Though none of it was what you kept seeing behind your eyes in the aftermath. Instead, you saw the way his face had looked as he shot his load. The open mouth, and the closed eyes, and most of all the strange, wrenching vulnerability that had covered him for a moment. No mischief, no macho bullshit—just a completely open and abandoned sort of ecstasy.
And all of it for you.
He knew you had watched him. He still knew now. You flicked your eyes back to the screen as he started to catch his breath, but the first thing he did was include you.
“Guess I kind of made a mess here,” he said, everything about his tone suggesting two conspirators, finishing off their evil deed. You even got up after he’d said it, to get him a tissue.
Though when You got back he’d pretty much taken care of most of it.
You stopped in the doorway to the bathroom at the sight:
Him, casually licking his messy fingers.
It took you a good two minutes after that to go over to him, with your fistful of toilet paper. And when you did go, it was on very shaky legs. Your whole body felt shaky, in fact—though not in any way you’d experienced before. This was like being full to the brim with something burning hot, skin so close to ripping that it couldn’t keep still. Sometimes you thought you could see it shivering slightly under the strain, and every inch of it was tender, so tender. His leg brushed yours as you sat down, and it was agony.
You even winced—then immediately regretted it.
He had been concentrating on clean-up. Now he looked up at you sharply.
And asked questions You were loathing to answer.
“Have you…not? I mean have you not—”
“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t.”
“God, you must be bursting.”
“Honestly, I’m fine.”
The problem was though; you didn’t seem fine.
You couldn’t meet his gaze. Your hands were fists on your thighs.
And of course he could see all of that.
“You look like you’re bursting.”
“Oh yeah? And what does bursting look like?”
“Your voice is shaking.”
“Is it?” You asked, voice so light it almost passed.
Almost, almost, almost.
“Your cheeks are flushed.”
“And then there’s the fact that your nipples are like diamonds. Fuck, look how stiff they are. Isn’t that agonizing, having them like that? I bet your clit’s the same. Bet your pussy is so wet. So wet you’re making a mess of the nice, clean clothes.”
Your cheeks grew hotter and hotter as he whispered each word. By the time he was done they felt like they were going to melt right off you face. That tense, cringing feeling in your stomach was ten times worse, and that was before he got to the last point. The one about the clothes, and the mess, and oh god what if he was right? It felt as if he might be. You weren’t wearing any underwear, and everything was really slippery between your legs. You could feel it, every time You moved.
“Oh fuck, sorry, sorry I don’t…I hope…it’s just that—” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing
“Honey, you don’t need an explanation.”
His tone was like sinking into a warm bath—and the thumb you could feel stroking over you forearm only pulled you deeper down. He just did it so idly. So like he wasn’t touching you at all.
Before you knew it, you were up to your ears in liquid heat.
“Are you sure? Because it kind of feels like I do.”
“I’m sure. I mean, the movie was pretty intense.”
“Right, exactly. Super intense.”
“So why deny yourself?”
“I could leave, if you want.”
“No, god no,” You said, too fast and too fierce.v
Though it was only afterward that you realized how it sounded:
Not like someone trying to say you didn’t want to masturbate.
Like someone saying that you wanted him to stay.
And he took it that way, too.
“Or, you know. I could just…do it for you,” he said.
Then you just had to do your best not to go out of your mind.
You stopped herself from jumping up. Kept your hands from flailing.
Didn’t look at him, in case looking made you do something crazy.
“Oh my god. You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious.”
“Probably wouldn’t take a lot.”
“I always take a lot.”
“Even when you’re alone?”
“Especially when I’m alone.”
“Well, maybe we should see about that.”
Again, you had the urge to get up. Maybe you even would have, if it hadn’t been for the other things he was doing. The thumb stroking your arm was now the back of his hand, running the length of your arm over and over. And that was his breath against the curve of your throat, so close and warm he could have been kissing you there. It felt like kissing.
Only without the scariness of the real thing.
All of this was without the scariness of the real thing.
It was just a game, that was all—and one that you could win if you really put you mind to it. He thought he could get you so easily, but he was utterly and completely wrong. You were a rock, in the face of whatever he was going to do. You were impervious to the pleasure he seemed to think he was going to dole out, to the point where you almost laughed when he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of those too-big sweatpants.
It was weird. Slightly uncomfortable.
Not sexy in the least.
And then his fingertips just oh-so-lightly grazed the pouting lips of your swollen pussy, and things pretty much started to go downhill from there. The sensation it sent through you was just so intense, and over something so small. He hadn’t even slipped between them to your clit, or eased a finger into your slick little hole. In truth, you weren’t entirely sure he’d touched you at all.
Yet you still had to clench your jaw.
You had to tell herself that it was just the stuff that had happened before—the film and him coming and then licking his fingers like a satisfied cat. It wasn’t anything to do with this right now, with him touching you, with his skill. He wasn’t skilful at all. He was terrible. Awful.
he worst lover you had ever had.
You had no idea why your thighs were trembling. Or what made you moan when he finally, finally, finally eased his fingers into that slick slit, and then topped it off by telling you just what he found there.
“Ohhhh fuuuuck you are wet. You’re so wet. Jesus Christ, Y/N, how can you stand it? How can you sit still and quiet with those eyes closed when your pussy is like this? So slippery I can just glide all the way down and ease on in and oh man, oh man,” he said, and all You could do in response was shiver and make a number of embarrassing noises. First for his words, and then oh god then for the feel of him doing it.
He used two fingers—two of those long, thick fingers—yet somehow it didn’t hurt when he pushed into you. There was no fumbling or searching. Your body just seemed to open for him, as though they’d dated for years and he’d worked on you for hours. He knew exactly how to touch you there, and when he did you simply had to respond. Your gasp rung out in the small room.Though you vowed it would be the last one. That was it now—you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of anything else. Not even when he started working his fingers in and out, slow and steady and so unbelievably good. you kind of wanted to cry over the unfairness of it. Why was he the one who had to be so good at this? How did he know how to do it in this deliberate, teasing, tantalizing way?
Even watching him do it was exciting. You made the mistake of glancing down and all you could see was his hand rolling beneath the material, the waistband occasionally stretching to give you a glimpse of your glossy cunt, his gleaming fingers, the way you were spread around that thick intrusion…
You had to look at the screen just to stop yourself coming right then and there—though even those measures had an exciting quality of their own. James Spader was just doing something incredibly dull now, while you sat here watching through slitted eyelids, cheeks flushed and legs spread, as a man slowly fingered your slick, flushed pussy. Back and forth, back and forth, until you were so beside yourself you weren’t sure you even wanted to hold back your moans.
You only knew that you were still trying, for reasons that seemed vague and far away now. It just doesn’t matter, your mind hissed, but you kept it up anyway. You held yourself more tightly and bit deep into your lip—deep enough that you tasted blood. And when he started to ease those fingers up, you shut your eyes tight. You thought of other things, more boring things: dry books and bird-watching.
All to no avail. He made one circle around your clit.
Just one tiny, insignificant circle, and that was it.
Your orgasm rolled up from that stiff little bud, in one all-consuming and all-powerful wave. It took away your control over your body—your toes curled tight and your back arched. But most important, it took away your control over your mouth. It let one little word slip out.
Though one little word was more than enough.
“Jungkook,” You said, and after that the game was pretty much up. That was gratitude in your voice and pleasure in the sigh behind it, and all wrapped in the neat little bow of his name. There was no more pretending that it wasn’t him who had made you feel this way, or suggesting that all of this was just a game.And he knew it immediately. He kept up the thrusts of his long, thick fingers, helping you prolong the feeling of your orgasm for as long as possible. And he didn’t stop there. Your face was starting to contort from the oversensitivity and it was obvious that Jungkook knew it too from the way he bit his lip and started to purposely move his fingers faster once again.
“Ahh! J-Jungkook… I can’t….” You moaned out, though this seemed to have no effect on him as he seemed determined to elicit another orgasm from you. His fingers scraping against your tightening walls as they fought to repeatedly slam back inside you. Your thighs were shaking, your eyes half lidded, leaning back on your hands as his worked between your legs. Suddenly you gripped Jungkook’s moving hand as you came dangerously close to letting go.
“That’s it, fuck, cum again for me Y/N. I need this. You need this” He almost sounded desperate and it made you want to sob because everything was so fucking hot.
With a cry of his name, you came undone again, your body almost curling in towards itself from the sensitivity.
“Holy shit, holy shit,” he said, as though you’d cried out the filthiest thing on the face of the earth. And, again, he didn’t stop there. You could hear him fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants already—though you tried to turn it into something else in your head. He was just pulling them up, you thought. They had slid down as he serviced you, that was all.
Only it wasn’t all.
When you made the mistake of glancing his way, you saw so much more than you were ready for. It was supposed to be over now, completely over, but he’d shoved everything down to mid-thigh and his cock was in his hand again and god god god why was it so arousing? You’d had cum twice already. He’d had one orgasm already, and now he was being so fucking filthy.
Yet somehow the filthiness only made it worse.
You came searingly close to telling him yes.
And go on.
And come all over me—just like you’d imagined.
For one wild second, it even seemed like he might. He was groaning and panting and he kept saying things, incredible things like “do you see what you do to me do you get how fucking horny you make me oh fuck just hearing you moan my name”. His hand was heavy on your shoulder, and you knew he was close. He was going to yank your top down any second now.
Any second, you thought.
Though you didn’t realize how much you wanted it until the first thick burst slid over his fist.
Didn’t know how little control you had over herself until he grunted your name and shuddered violently, that slick fluid easing over his still-pumping fist. After all, if you’d had any you would have stayed right where you were, content to just watch.Instead of leaning forward to take that heavy, swollen, slippery head in your mouth, to catch the last ribbons of his salt-sweet cum all over your eager tongue.
“Fucking fuck, Jagiya” Jungkook cursed loudly, watching you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He slid his hands in your hair, gripping it from the bottom of your skull gently, rocking your face back and forth, riding out the last of his high. You looked up at him, eye still glassed over, breathing hard and laboured and slid the head of him out of your mouth.
There was no doubt that Jungkook was shocked at your boldness but he seemed pleasantly surprised. His pupils blown out, lips swollen, skin gleaming. He truly was a work of art. The magnitude of what you two had done hit you hard. So, naturally, there was only one thing left to do in panic.
Kick him out.
“Jungkook…you need to leave”
A/N: So, Idk what happened but yeah hope you all enjoy. Not sure if I’ll make this a series since I’m bad at continuing ideas. I may stick to separate scenarios. I get bored easily. However, please feel free to check out my blog and send me ideas for new fics
Alright, so here I am with another long ass meta post. Only this time, this one is directed solely at the legend, Levi Ackerman himself. Yet again, I am seeing the “Levi is Abusive” mumbo jumbo and I have spent my two years in this fandom quiet about my opinions on this for the most part because I do not enjoy drama. However, after this last batch of Discourse™ that I have seen, I have been pushed beyond my ability to bite my tongue.
This is Part One to a two part meta, and this is me basically trying to shine light on Levi’s actions a bit and why he behaves the way he does. In no way do I try to justify all of the shit he carries out so don’t think this is just a fangirl squeal post. I’m simply trying to better explain his character for the people who seem to think he is some kind of rage beast who beats kids for fun in his spare time.
I will be putting this under a Read More because it is extremely long and also contains spoilers. I’d also like to state that this would be best read from a computer or the mobile website as it contains a metric fuckton of manga panels used for reference (seriously use any other means outside of the mobile app to read this because the app will butcher this post and cut out a majority of the images). If you are sitting down to read this, please make sure you are comfy, cozy, and drinking a nice warm beverage. Now then,
DISCLAIMER: This is my personal opinion. In no way am I stating what I say here is completely accurate. if you disagree with my opinion, good for you! That’s your prerogative. However, If you are going to send me messages trying to argue points of view with me or send me hate messages because my opinion differs from your own; do us both a favor and just don’t even bother. WARNING: Major spoilers ahead.
First and foremost, this is the scene I see brought up the absolute most so I’d like to go ahead and address it first:
inspired by this video (sfw, but a sex toy is being used as car repair, so take that as you will)
“Laura’s gonna flip,” Derek says in dismay, looking at the huge dent in the driver’s side door of the Camaro. Her most precious possession, the car she’d been saving up for forever, the car she waxes and washes every weekend, the car that she let Derek borrow to go to the Mathletes competition in San Francisco because Derek had a basketball game on Friday and couldn’t make the official school bus, the car that Laura made him swear his life on, is now forever ruined.
“Damn, if there ever was a good place to curse, that would have been it,” Stiles says, crossing his arms and looking far more attractive than he had the right to. “C’mon, Derek. Just say it. Fuck.”
Derek blushes, watching the word tumble out of Stiles’ pink mouth. “No, I… there’s gotta be a way to fix it. But if I call her insurance people she’s gonna know…”
“It’s totally my fault,” Stiles says. “I was the one who wanted to go to Tastee Freeze on the way back, and let some dingbat hit you in the parking lot. Actually, it’s their fault, whoever can’t drive.”
Derek shakes his head. It’s his fault. He’d been having too much fun this weekend; he’d spent practically all of it with Stiles. He’d had a crush on him forever— in fact, joined Mathletes at his request, and the whole year of practice, of spending afternoons with Stiles poring over math problems, watching Stiles lick Cheeto dust off his fingers— it’s been too much. Coupled with the fact that Stiles actually just plain forgot to catch the bus on Friday, and then caught a ride with Derek, meant hours in the car listening to him sing along to Hamilton and muddle through the rap bits, and sleeping next to him in the four-to-a-room motel Saturday night, and waking up with Stiles’ face smashed into his shoulder.
Derek had been too overwhelmed by it all, too overwhelmed by Stiles. Getting the chance to spend time with his friend this weekend had just intensified his feelings, and he knows there’s no chance that Stiles will ever feel the same, so he’s just drinking it all in, savoring these moments when he can.
It had been a terrible parking job, the Camaro was at a weird angle, that’s why the person rounding the turn had hit him. Derek sighs. He guesses it’s for the best. He’ll just have to pay Laura back. For forever.
Stiles is studying the door, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Actually, it’s not that bad. They didn’t even scratch it. It’s just a dent. With the right amount of leverage…”
“I’m sorry, do you happen to have a magical car-door fixer in your overnight bag?”
Somehow, this causes Stiles to turn bright red. “Okay. I have an idea. But you have to promise not to laugh.”
Derek watches, perplexed, as Stiles pulls his duffle bag out of the back seat, and then rummages around in it.
“Promise not to laugh,” Stiles repeats.
“I promise.” Derek is confused, but sincere.
Stiles pulls a bright blue dildo out of the bag. It’s springy, and jiggles a little with the movement. There’s a thick vein running along the side, and the base even has… balls.
Derek’s brain short circuits, an image of Stiles, naked, working himself on the girth of the toy, his mouth open, panting, as he tries to get the right angle, skin flushed pink from pleasure…
I just want to point out something. A joke is only funny when it isn’t used ad nauseam.
So, basically, when can we say this isn’t a joke but that there’s serious intent? How many times before we can rightfully say: this isn’t a joke, this is a pattern. This isn’t a bonus, this is the heart of the text?
— sex | implied exhibitionism | mild dom/sub tones | if u’ve got a praise kink then ur gonna love this | mentions of daddy kinks | instances of spanking
;summary — you’re the supervisor of the clothing department with a lot
of useless lingerie knowledge, jungkook is the jewelry department’s defiant hot
boy who flirts in wristwatch brands. basically an upscale retail au, but with
lots of implied under-the-counter sex. and when an opportunity presents itself to fuck
each other in the boss’s office after hours, you’re both too hot for each other
to say no.