#“first energy bar for women” give me a break

[anubisgodofchaos]

apparently clif bars are canonically for men???

if ur a woman who has eaten a clif bar ur required to either trans your gender or you simply dont exist. women of course only eat lunabars!!! clif bars are for alpha males!!!!

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Twelve

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 16.6k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi babes!! Welcome to the latest update (a crazy one!!) Lot's going on in this chapter, including a boatload of angst, a bit of fluff, some ~spice~, and lots of emotions. It is a pretty Yoongi-heavy chapter (nice) so for all my Yoongi stans-- this one is for you! I hope you all enjoy this update, and let me know what you think if you'd like, and I'm sending you all my love 💕

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Yoongi leaned against the grimy plaster that made up the back hallway of The Black Lodge, trying not to grimace as he felt the silky material of his button-down sticking to the years of smoke residue and alcohol fumes. The air was thick with wispy clouds of cigar and cigarette smoke, as it always was, and the strange, dark energy of the bar was still ever-present; but Yoongi wasn’t entirely focused on that, for once. 

He could really use a cigarette, himself. Yoongi quit smoking around the time his mother passed away– no, don’t think about it. Using his pointed incisors, he bit down on his lower lip enough to draw blood, the piercing pain chasing any thoughts of his mother from his mind, a coping mechanism he’d picked up over the past year. Refusing to cut his hair, abstaining from composing, gnawing his lips into shreds; anything to distract, or perhaps to punish, to forget. 

Time marched on, unfortunately. Mourning in an already mournful place was useless and made him feel like he was drowning in a pit of molten tar. Even clinging to hope, that one day he’d be able to manage breaking free and finding somewhere else to live, the hope grew dimmer by the day. 

The frown on the leopard hybrid’s face deepened as the sound of someone retching in the men’s bathroom he was standing across from reached his sensitive ears. Sometimes, he wished he could stick pencils in the spotted appendages– he’d take normal, dim human hearing from his other set over some of the shit he had managed to overhear with hybrid ears during his nearly 28 years of life. Absently, he reached up to fiddle with one of the earrings dangling from his lobe– the silver, pointed shape of a feathered wing gliding between the pads of his forefinger and thumb. 

His frown turned into the faintest ghost of a smile, that vicious and searing sensation of growing hope knocking the wind out of him as he caught the scent of jasmine– mingling with sharp botanicals, a saccharine underlying sweetness, and something uniquely human. He straightened up immediately, the door of the women’s bathroom creaking open and a great gust of that delicious scent smacking him square in the face. 

“I-? I what?” Y/N squeaked, not only unable to recover from the tender kisses Yoongi had showered over her wrist and hand, but the words that had come out of his mouth immediately after he pulled away from her slightly. “Y-yoongi. We kissed? I asked you to kiss me?”

Yoongi was now rather quiet, slowly moving away from her and staring out his window, his face somewhat closed off now that he had revealed what Y/N knew he was leaving out of the whole story of their first meeting. His tail was curling around his own waist mindlessly, and Y/N was cold and reeling with the absence of his body heat that was once accelerating her heartbeat into a gallop. 

It seemed that Yoongi was giving Y/N a few moments to process everything he confessed, a poorly-constructed imaginary wall in between them as she babbled nonsensically. 

“I’m? I don’t even know what to say. I never get that drunk, enough to ask for a kiss from a total stranger,” Y/N blurted out something that actually made sense after a few moments of stuttering, however, the statement that left her lips had Yoongi hissing and a flash of hurt sparking up his feline hazel gaze. Abruptly, Y/N wished she could collect her words from the air and stuff them back into her mouth. “I’m so, so sorry, Yoongi… I shouldn’t have forced you into a corner like that.”

Yoongi was astonished, his tail beginning to flick back and forth so sharply Y/N knew that he was very agitated. Deciding to shut up before she offended the leopard hybrid any more than she clearly already had, Y/N began to approach Yoongi at snail’s pace to prevent him from flinching away. 

“When did I say that you had forced me into a corner, Y/N? Are you serious right now?” Yoongi used her name for the first time in what felt like months, taking her off guard and making her swallow thickly. His voice was soft, but had a deadly edge to it, and the way his jaw was clenched had shivers rolling down her spine– Yoongi actually looked like the predatory leopard he was. 

“I was just saying, um, like I feel bad that I threw myself at you like that,” Y/N wished she could rewind time and relive the tender moment they had right before the bombshell was dropped, but that tenderness seemed to be leagues out of her grasp. 

“You did nothing of the sort. I told you, we talked for almost two hours. We were hardly strangers by the time I kissed you, by the way,” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at Y/N with a dangerous look in his eyes. It made Y/N want to back up and shrivel beneath his gaze, but she knew that Yoongi would never hurt her, so she stood her ground, albeit shakily. “I liked you, Y/N. I wanted to kiss you.”

“L-liked?” Y/N couldn’t help but emphasize the end of the word, the past tense, where Yoongi had implied that his affection for her had disappeared over the course of the year. 

After all, she made him wait, got his hopes up, and was now implying herself that he was nothing but a drunken mistake. Heart plummeting into her stomach, she watched Yoongi’s nose twitch, likely picking up on her anxiety and rising stress levels, the stoniness of his features loosening up a tad. The air was charged, tense, and Y/N wasn’t sure who would cut it first, and where the complicated conversation was going. 

“Y/N–” Yoongi took a step forward, his hand raised as if to place it on her cheek, before the sound of his bedroom door being blasted open cut him off with a surprised grunt, blood draining from his face. 

“HEY, YOONGI. WHAT TIME IS DINNER?” Hoseok jogged into the room shouting, loud rap music coming out of the earpods he was wearing, his breathing labored. 

The fox hybrid must have just come back from a run, and nothing on his face indicating he had a flying fucking clue what Y/N and Yoongi were talking about– he didn’t even seem to notice the tension swirling around the room, Y/N’s stricken expression, or the fact that she was just standing in the middle of Yoongi’s bedroom. Urgently, Yoongi put space between her and himself, dropping back into his composed attitude, like nothing had occurred at all. 

Ambling forward calmly, Yoongi yanked one of Hoseok’s earpods out, Hoseok grinning at him cheekily and switching off the music on his phone. Still standing in the center of the room motionless, Y/N gawked at Yoongi’s flawless attempt to appear normal and nonchalant. 

“Foxy, you trying to blow out your eardrums?” Yoongi grumbled, frowning deeply when Hoseok plopped down on the leopard hybrid’s bed. “Dude, you’re fucking soaked. Get off my bed.”

Hoseok did nothing of the sort, simply repeating his question about dinner, flicking his sweaty bangs off of his forehead with a smirk and leaning back on Yoongi’s cushy beige comforter smugly. 

“I don’t know when dinner will be ready. I was going to make something carb-heavy because I have a game tomorrow night. There’s pasta dough in the fridge…” Yoongi began tying up his hair with a purple scrunchie Y/N had got for him at work, the sight of him both using it and the fact that he didn’t let her put up his hair for the first time in weeks, making her chest squeeze in pain. “Can you help roll out the pasta for the machine, Foxy? I think Y/N mentioned she wanted to shower before dinner, which honestly you should be doing instead of perspiring all over my bed.”

Y/N hadn’t mentioned taking a shower before dinner at all, and she didn’t know if Yoongi wanted space from her and didn’t want to come out and say it, but the lie stung nonetheless. 

“Ah, I’ll shower before bed. Especially if I’m going to be covered in sweat and flour,” Hoseok heaved himself off of Yoongi’s bed, following Yoongi to the door and out into the hall. 

Willing her legs to move, Y/N felt her throat grow thick, confused and left out in the cold. Swiftly, she made her way into her bedroom once she was confident Hoseok and Yoongi were in the kitchen, hastily getting right into the shower so she could put off a crying session. Having red eyes and a swollen face at dinner wasn’t appealing to her, and would attract way too many questions. 

There was a lot for her to think about surrounding the state of her and Yoongi’s relationship now, but Y/N knew if she dwelled on it for too long, her attempt to keep tears at bay would be spoiled. She would give anything to pull the memory of her night at The Black Lodge with Yoongi out of the deep corners of her mind; to relive it, to understand her thought process and how her brain absorbed it. Her body felt weakened after the intensity of what she had learned, head pounding and legs like jelly, and she wasn’t sure if she could make it through dinner acting like everything was okay when she really just wanted to burrow into her bed for the next three weeks. 

Y/N took her sweet time massaging her jasmine lotion into her skin, selecting a warm set of pajamas, and even tidying up some clutter around her room to make sure she was only in the kitchen long enough to choke down some food before she could pull her cozy quilt over her head and sleep away all of her confusing thoughts. It would be damn near impossible for her to get out of the nightly movie routine she had created with all of the boys, and it was her turn to pick out the movie that night as well, but perhaps she could act like she was too exhausted to stay up past dinner. 

Taking Yoongi to his game the following day ought to be awkward. It wasn’t like they could exactly continue their conversation– the rest of the hybrids were going to tag along, so they could grab some dinner afterwards and have a nice Saturday night out on the town. In reality, she wasn’t sure she’d get more one-on-one time with Yoongi until their next piano lesson, if he kept dragging other hybrids into helping him with meals rather than her. 

Slapping moisturizer onto her face, Y/N stared at herself in the old silver mirror hanging over her sink vanity, miraculously appearing pretty normal despite the pure bewilderment she was still experiencing. There was barely detectable puffiness around her lash lines, probably from the effort of holding back frustrated tears in the shower, and she was fairly positive no one would even notice– that is, unless Taehyung got close up to her face, which was always a frequent occurrence. 

 Hoseok 🦊: dinner’s ready, darling~~~

Y/N’s phone chimed, a message and photo coming in from Hoseok. He sent her a selfie, flour dusted across his nose, holding up a plate of fettuccine alfredo, with broccoli and chicken, from the looks of it. Immediately, she saved the picture and added it as his contact photo, loving the little grin on his face– it replaced the former incredibly attractive photo of him post-track meet sweaty and smirking at the camera. Brightening upon seeing Hoseok’s good-natured, radiant smile, Y/N felt a whole lot better about heading out into the kitchen. Whatever was going on between her and Yoongi would eventually be sorted out and addressed, but it wasn’t fair to the others for her to hole up in her room and ignore their nightly routines.

Exiting her room, she headed straight to Namjoon’s half-open door, the crackly sound of his Walkman playing an old Bob Dylan tape filling his cozy space. The room was filled with lamplight, and Namjoon even had a stick of amber incense going on his desk, and she felt immense comfort in even just hanging out in the threshold of his door. However, the wolf hybrid wasn’t in either of his usual spots– the wooden desk chair or the cushy window seat. 

“Joonie?” Y/N called out softly, wondering if he had popped out to his van to retrieve a book or something. 

In response to the sound of his nickname being called, the door to Namjoon’s bathroom creaked open, a mumbled ‘hold on’ coming from him gruffly. Y/N took it upon herself to enter his room further; ever since his birthday, Namjoon really didn’t have a problem with her in his space, and often invited her into his room when he wanted her opinion on something. Typically, it was over a Tarot card meaning or her thoughts on a passage in a book he was reading; Y/N thought it was really sweet of him, and besides– she loved talking to Namjoon, he was insightful and overwhelmingly intelligent. 

Finally, the wolf hybrid emerged from his steamy bathroom, silvery hair towel-dried and ears similarly damp. It looked like he haphazardly threw on a wrinkly gray sleep shirt and sweatpants, Y/N realizing she must have caught him just out of the shower. The reality of that had her stomach flipping over, sheepishly cowering by his desk as he tossed his towel into the hamper and turned the volume down on his Walkman. 

“Is that tape one of the ones you got from the music store last time?” Y/N tried not to snort at the reediness of Bob Dylan’s croon, Namjoon meeting her at his desk and stubbing out the burning stick of incense. “I thought you only saved the ones that weren’t grating,” Y/N recalled Namjoon’s comment from that day, which seemed years ago, with a fond, teasing smile. 

Namjoon shook his head with a playful grimace, catching her gaze out of the corner of his eyes. He smelled really good, homey and masculine, and he was close enough for Y/N to try and pick out the top notes of his body wash: honey, musk, pine?

“Believe me. Dylan was one of the least grating of the bunch,” Namjoon responded, a dimple appearing on his cheek as the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “Besides. ‘Visions Of Johanna’ is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. Lyrically speaking.”

“I’ll make sure to give it a listen, if that’s what you think,” Y/N automatically responded, already adding the song to a queue on her phone. Lately, she’d been getting really fantastic music recommendations from each hybrid, which was a lovely thing to share with them. It allowed her a tiny window into all of their different, complex personalities. “Dinner’s ready, by the way. Wanted to grab you before I headed to the kitchen.”

“I know. Yoongi texted all of us,” Namjoon reached down to ruffle Y/N’s hair, as if she was being silly for even telling him. 

“Oh, really?” Y/N squeaked quietly, following Namjoon around his bedroom like a lost puppy. He was tidying up, something Y/N noticed he tended to do before bed (otherwise, he’d be sleeping with encyclopedias and chess pieces). “Hoseok texted me…”

“Yeah, in the group chat,” Namjoon murmured distractedly, not minding that Y/N was hovering behind him like a phantom while he stacked loose pieces of parchment onto his nightstand, her eyebrows furrowing. “That’s usually how Yoongi lets us know food is ready.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. Apparently, all the hybrids had a group chat between one another, one that didn’t include her, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about that. She wasn’t even sure if Namjoon realized that he had revealed a secret– perhaps it wasn’t and she was just unobservant– but he sensed something was up when she was quiet, looking over his shoulder inquisitively. 

“What’s the matter? You look like I just stole candy from you,” Namjoon accused, though his eyes were soft and filled with concern. “Your eyes are a little puffy, too, have you been crying? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Namjoon, I’m okay. Just tired, is all,” Y/N didn’t even care if Namjoon could sniff out her lie, considering everything she had gone through that day. She didn’t have a shred of energy left to try and hide her emotions from her hybrids, and Namjoon usually wasn’t one to pry, so she prayed he’d take the hint. “Let’s go eat, okay?”

Before she could get too far, Namjoon caught a hold of her shoulders, two large palms settling over the joints and spinning her around so he could get a good look at her face. She was shaking, slightly, under his strong grip, eager to escape the scrutiny of those penetrating eyes of his. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but don’t lie to me. If you’re upset, at least don’t try to cover it all up,” Namjoon said firmly, leveling a stern look her way. 

“Joon, please…” Y/N used her hands to ease his off of her, resigned. “It’s nothing, just some stress. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep tonight.”

Namjoon looked unconvinced, some unknown emotion flashing through his eyes, Y/N squeezing his hands before releasing them. She swore she could hear low growling coming from deep within his chest, but he composed himself and lightly cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the hallway. 

“Okay, I’ll drop it,” Namjoon began heading out to the foyer, Y/N close behind. “Maybe you should read a book before bed to relax and get some good sleep. You’re really tense, I felt it in your shoulders. Have Yoongi make you some tea, too.”

Jolting at the mention of the very hybrid causing her rise in blood pressure, Y/N made a noncommittal noise. On the other hand, Namjoon’s kind consideration and concern for her well-being had butterflies coasting in her stomach. 

“You’re sweet, Joonie,” Y/N murmured, mirroring his earlier action by reaching up high to ruffle his still-damp starlight hair. “Pick out a book for me, please?”

Though he was in front of her leading the way to the kitchen, Y/N could see the very tips of his human ears turn red as he grunted out an embarrassed ‘okay’. Namjoon, she found out, was more of a softie than she originally understood. Besides, he always picked out excellent books she’s never read before, which was a bonus. 

The kitchen was warm and thick with the smell of roasted chicken and buttery, cheesy pasta, Y/N’s mouth watering against her will. Spite started to well up inside of her, surpassing her confusion and melancholy, and she desperately prayed to the sky that somehow Yoongi had screwed up the seasoning so she would have an excuse to not enjoy his food. Following Namjoon with a swish of his silvery tail, Y/N begrudgingly slunk further into the room. 

She caught sight of Taehyung first, seated at the breakfast nook by himself, adjusting settings on the camera strapped around his neck. His hair was wild and curly like he just washed it, a vibrant multicolored, vintage-looking sweater slipping over his wrists giving him sweater paws. Cooing, Y/N made a beeline for the Kodiak hybrid– trying with all her might to appear as unaffected as Yoongi took garlic bread out of the oven and shot the breeze with Jimin about the cold weather. Taehyung was a more than wonderful distraction.

“Hi, Tae,” Y/N scooched into the booth, having no trouble cozying up to his furnacelike side, his chest rumbling as he instinctively used one of his arms to hook around her shoulders and pull her closer. “Working on something for the next expo? It’s a week before Christmas, right?”

Smiling with his mouth closed, Taehyung let Y/N wiggle closer into his warmth, wordlessly passing his camera over and resting his nose in her hair as she took it gingerly. Being pressed up so closely against him, Y/N could feel his chest expand with the deep inhale he took, Y/N so used to him and Jimin taking a whiff of her hair daily that it didn’t even register as odd to her anymore. Turning on the camera’s display, Y/N flicked through a couple of Taehyung’s latest works, his editing more streamlined than ever before and each shot more creative than the next. The subjects were images of nature, primarily the backyard and around the neighborhood, but taken from unique angles and using natural light in interesting ways. 

“You’re getting so good at this, Tae. Pretty soon, you’ll have people asking to take wedding pictures for them!” Y/N passed his camera back to him, resisting the urge to totally curl into him or climb into his lap. He was just too cuddly. 

“Thank you,” Taehyung now offered her his toothy smile, wide and showing just how beautiful it made his face, conveying joy contrary to his ever-so-quiet voice. “I still need to work on taking portraits. That’s the assignment for next week…”

“Well it’s fortunate that you live with seven other people to practice on, huh?” Y/N teased, loving the flush that dusted his cheeks and tip of his nose. 

Their moment was interrupted by a black shadow, Y/N somewhat peeling herself off of Taehyung a tad to look up. It wasn’t a black shadow at all, however, it was just Jeongguk– dressed all in black, naturally, and with an enormous bowl of pasta and chicken in his hands. 

“How was your day, Jeongguk? The Tarantino movies you guys were watching… which one was your favorite?” Y/N reached across the table to poke the top of his hand with each word she was speaking to capture his attention, knowing that doing so usually irritated him enough to answer her questions. Since Halloween, though, he’d been much less easily perturbed, and usually regarded her attempts to agitate with amused midnight-black eyes. 

“Kill Bill. The first one, not the second. Pulp Fiction was good, but didn’t live up to all of that bullshit hype college kids drone on and on about,” Jeongguk playfully slapped her hand away from him so he could pick up a fork and start eating, a tiny wry grin pulling up the corners of his mouth. 

“I don’t think I really liked any of them,” a new voice joined the conversation, Seokjin filling up the last empty space in the booth beside Y/N, miraculously balancing three bowls of pasta on his forearm to deliver to Y/N and Taehyung. “Gory, lots of swearing and violence.”

“Grow some balls, Pink Panther,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, Y/N finding it extremely difficult not to laugh– he was quick on his feet to come up with that nickname, since Seokjin was wearing his favorite ballet-pink hoodie. “Why am I surprised? You could barely make it through an episode of Tokyo Ghoul, and that’s fuckin’ animated blood.”

“Oh, leave him be, Jeongguk. Action or gore isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s totally okay,” Y/N emphasized her point by using her slipper-clad foot to collide lightly with his shin under the booth, a free hand coming up to smooth over Seokjin’s back affectionately. “Also, it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re talking over a mouthful of half-chewed chicken.”

There was Seokjin’s squeaky-sounding laugh coming from her right, Jeongguk rolling his eyes again, taking a swig of whatever cocktail he had made for himself. Looking down at the food Yoongi made and Seokjin had brought to her, she felt her stomach turning. While it looked and smelled delicious, she didn’t want to give Yoongi the satisfaction of horking the whole plate down right away. Instead, she watched everyone in the booth tuck in promptly, Y/N glowering at her slab of garlic bread with feigned disinterest. 

“Not hungry?” Taehyung’s voice was in her ear, as always, low and indulgently rich. Concern lit up his eyes, his fork and knife paused mid-air as he studied the side of her face, even giving an animalistic sniff in her direction. 

“I had a big lunch,” Y/N admitted, even though that was a bit of a lie. She had been so nervous about her piano lesson with Yoongi earlier in the day, all she could choke down at lunchtime was a handful of baby carrots and hummus. 

Taehyung lifted a brow, definitely not buying the lie, but let it go without a word, mercifully. Y/N discovered that keeping her emotions under wraps from everybody while thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in her head constantly was more challenging than anything she had dealt with before. 

Yoongi’s words kept echoing like a pagan chant in her ears: ‘I know how you feel. About us, all of us’. Was Yoongi that keen, already able to intimately decipher her emotions and feelings through scent alone, or was she painfully obvious about her embarrassingly large crushes on each hybrid she adopted? Flames licked her cheeks, and she afforded a look past Seokjin’s wide shoulders to Yoongi sitting beside Jimin at the island, his back to her. Even now, Y/N could detect a whisper of tension threading through the lean muscles of his back through his shirt, and though she was puzzled– at best– by everything that went down between them in the last few hours, she was pleased to see how much he had filled out with muscle between consistent meals and his basketball practices. 

Sighing lightly, Y/N picked her way through her meal once tearing her eyes from Yoongi, not wanting to attract more attention by not eating dinner. Besides, her stomach was beginning to make embarrassing rumbling sounds, earning an annoyed side-eye from Namjoon across the room, pointedly using the tip of his nose to gesture towards her untouched plate. She resisted the split-second impulse to stick her tongue out at him, reconsidering upon remembering how intimidating Namjoon could be when teased. 

Throughout dinner, Y/N distracted herself from her thoughts and the lack of typical banter she’d have with Yoongi by cozying up to Seokjin and Taehyung; asking them about their preferences for birthday meals during fast-approaching December. Jeongguk asked her if she happened to celebrate Christmas– she replied yes; while her and her mother celebrated the pagan holiday of Yule, her father was more of a traditionalist and loved Christmas. 

“Yule lasts several days, and is made up of just some quiet rituals and whatnot– burning a Yule log, for example. But my dad adores all of the fun traditions of Christmas he had growing up, so he wanted to share that with me, too. We’d deck out the house in all of the lights, bake a thousand Christmas cookies, go out every year to pick out a tree… watch holiday movies in corny matching pajamas. My mom called it ‘Commercial Christmas’, but it was always really fun, and she was just poking fun at how silly my dad can get with it,” Y/N explained to the elk hybrid, him nodding along to her words while pushing broccoli around on his plate. “Oh! And there’s a Holiday Market in the city, too, if you guys are interested in checking that out next month. Food, decorations, music, all of that.”

It dawned on Y/N that her hybrids had likely never celebrated Christmas in the way she had in her youth. She had similar thoughts before, based on each of their strange, varied behaviors during the last three birthdays and Halloween, as well. It had her lower lip jutting out slightly, and she knew that perhaps the reason she worked so hard to make these events extra special in the past few months was because she was making up for their lost years of merriment and celebration of milestones. 

Dwelling on that, she totally zoned out at the breakfast nook, only coming to when Seokjin collected her near-empty plate from her, snapping back to reality when he stood and her hand slipped from the middle of his back, where she was absently rubbing circles into the cozy material of his hoodie. All the jaguar hybrid did was flash her a sweet smile, bringing the dishes to the sink with a purr. 

Shaking off her nerves, Y/N also rose from her seat, taking Taehyung with her so she’d have an excuse to cling to someone (and avoid Yoongi), by pulling him by the loose sleeve of his sweater, the Kodiak hybrid happily being hauled away from his camera and half-drunk glass of wine. Taehyung was one of the hybrids that didn’t drink as much as the others, or even Y/N herself, so sometimes a half of a glass of wine was all he needed for a pretty flush to color his cheeks and his tongue to loosen. 

“What are we watching tonight, Y/N? Nothing scary, I pray?” Y/N managed to scoop Jimin up in her grasp, as well, his expression filled with trepidation as she sandwiched herself between the two hybrids and dragged them into the parlor. 

The fire was roaring, and Taehyung broke free from her hold on his sweater to add another log to the tall flames in the fireplace– he was very serious about keeping it going strong until everyone headed off to bed, like it was an unspoken household duty he felt responsible for completely. Thankfully, he was quick to return to her, eager to claim one of the spots on either of her sides before anyone else could. As Ben had joked about over the phone with her, the hybrids did almost claw at each other in order to get a seat next to her on the couch, even Jeongguk, at that point. With Jimin and Taehyung being the ‘lucky’ ones that night, Y/N didn’t have to worry about sitting awkwardly inches away from Yoongi. 

“No, sweet pea, nothing scary. Just for you and Hoseok, though… on second thought, Seokjinnie, too. I’ll save the horror marathons for another time. I was thinking we could watch something funny?” 

Jimin’s shoulders relaxed downwards several inches, and his ears perked back up to their natural position as he handed her the remote, soothed that she wasn’t about to repeat her surprise showing of Suspiria from last month. Hoseok had to leave the room during the last few scenes of that one, in fact. 

Y/N scrolled through the options in her digital library, avoiding romcoms at all costs, landing on some random comedy with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. She needed something mindless, something that required not much critical thinking, so she could forget about the tangled cobwebs clogging up the cavity that once held her brain. 

The room slowly filled up with the rest of the hybrids, Hoseok tossing wrapped Klondike bars to everyone, Jeongguk taking up the recliner; Namjoon took his usual seat at Y/N’s feet, while Seokjin and Yoongi ended up sitting on the floor next to the couch. Yoongi minded his business, not even sending Y/N a glance as he sank to the floor with his glass of wine. Seokjin didn’t seem pleased that he was so far from Y/N, but knew that her rotating who she sat next to was in an effort to be fair– and he respected that. 

“I know how you feel. About us, all of us.”

“Ben, can you just listen before you say ‘I told you so’?” Y/N stirred cream into her coffee, her lower eyelid twitching when she tasted the concoction on her tongue. Somehow, ever since Yoongi started making her coffee for her each morning, she couldn’t seem to make her favorite ratio quite as precise as he did– even though she had been making it perfectly fine years before he took up the task for her. “I’ll let you say it all you want after I get some of this off my chest.”

Saturday morning, Y/N met up with Ben in the city at their favorite brunch spot on Newbury street, leaving all of her hybrids at home for a lazy morning by themselves. It was rare these days that she’d carve out time to go out with her human friends without at least one of the boys tagging along with her, but miraculously, she was able to break free for a few hours to catch up– or vent– with Ben. Ben cocked an eyebrow at her, taking a measured sip of his mimosa.

“I can do that, but first–” Ben reached into his briefcase, rummaging around within the depths of the leather bag, boldly pulling out a nip of Kahlua and swiftly dumping it into Y/N’s coffee. “You look like you’re one inconvenience away from a nervous breakdown. Happy Saturday, have a drink.”

“Thanks,” Y/N grimaced, sucking down the entirety of the scalding, now spiked, coffee in one go, Ben waving his hand as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Christ, I don’t even know where to start…”

Y/N had spent the night tossing and turning, even after the stupid movie she watched with the hybrids and a few shots of gin, waking up with dark circles under her eyes and two hours of sleep under her belt. In those two hours, she had dreams of red curtains, whiskey-scented whispers, piano, and hazel, feline eyes. 

“I think I have an idea of where this is going,” Ben broke the ice after several moments, once the waiter came by to take their brunch orders and bring another round of drinks. This time, Y/N got herself a mimosa, too. “Let me guess. You fell for one of them.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop, the Kahlua, coffee, and champagne churning in her gut as Ben stared at her expectantly. Ben was always quick to pick up on how Y/N felt, particularly when it had to do with her romantic life, but it wasn’t like she was around him enough these days for him to observe her around all of her hybrids… fell for one? She had to laugh, and the sound came out snorted and pathetic. 

“Oh, it’s worse than I thought. More than one? Taking cues from those reverse-harem animes you used to love in high school, huh?” Ben pressed, his nose scrunching up upon hearing the braying donkey laugh Y/N was trying to cover up by chugging her mimosa, a swig of it going down her windpipe. 

“Nnn–ugh! Fuck me, Ben. Lower your voice,” Y/N coughed into her cloth napkin, frantically glancing around the restaurant as if she was being surveilled.

“Relax, Y/N, they’re not even here. They can’t hear you all the way from the Haunted Mansion, even with hybrid ears. Get on with it, spill. You’ll feel better,” Ben pushed a hand through his coiffed red hair, sucking his teeth as he assessed Y/N’s frazzled appearance and erratic behavior. She must have looked like a nutcase. 

“I… Stop looking at me like that! If you’re so smart, you must have pieced together everything already, so why bother?” Y/N accused, but when Ben simply hardened his cerulean gaze, Y/N knew that he was encouraging her to talk through her feelings rather than squirreling them away until she exploded. “Fine. Yeah, okay. I have a crush on them, all of them, as a matter of fact, if that’s even humanly possible… and I know what you’re thinking, I’m batshit, I’m gross, and I’ve put myself in a horrible scenario.”

“Y/N, will you just take a breath, please? We’ve been friends for over a decade. Nothing you say to me is going to scare me off or make me ‘shame’ you Cersei-Game-of-Thrones-style. So, you’re attracted to all seven of them? I mean seriously, Y/N, I can’t blame you, and if you called Laura or Alice, they wouldn’t either. They’re all gorgeous,” Ben leaned back in his seat, both seriousness and amusement dancing across his features. 

Y/N wrestled the champagne bottle resting in the tableside bucket of ice up and out of the shards, pouring herself another glass and completely ignoring the orange juice pitcher nearby that would make her mimosa, well, a mimosa. 

“You know, Y/N… humans and hybrids can be in romantic relationships, and before you fly off of the handle, let me finish! Listen, I know, you know, and your hybrids know that you didn’t adopt them to use-and-abuse, obviously. You’ve always been a romantic, Y/N, it’s not like you can control how you feel, especially when it comes to love.”

Processing this, Y/N gawked at Ben, suddenly unable to come up with any kind of retort. Their waiter came by with their food, and the smell of Y/N’s French toast made her utterly nauseous as soon as it was placed in front of her. Grimacing, she pushed the plate to the side, Ben smirking over a bite of crispy bacon. 

“Love…” Y/N squeaked, the four-letter-word wheezing from her chest painfully, Ben having the nerve to roll his eyes. 

“You do love them, don’t you? Besides the fact that it's obvious to me, as your wonderful best friend, when you fall, you fall hard,” Ben nudged Y/N’s plate back in front of her, sticking a fork in her hand with mischief in his eyes. “It’s a different kind of love– but I love Daisy, she’s my daughter, and I can’t imagine my life without her anymore. That must be similar to how you feel, no?” 

For at least a month, Y/N kept herself in blissful, complete denial, trying to squash down her feelings as best she could in an effort to keep them from the hybrids. She didn’t know if she was fooling them, because she definitely wasn’t fooling Ben, who looked like he was trying to refrain from laughing. The more she thought about her recent behavior; stuttering, blushing, heart racing, constant cuddling, the more stupid she felt. 

“God, I’m a moron,” Y/N stuffed a piece of French toast into her dried-out mouth, the consistency like glue as she chewed. “They probably already know and are just too nice to reject me. Or they’re scared to.”

Ben didn’t say anything, just letting Y/N come to terms with the startling realization: she loved them. Seven different men, she was in love with seven, and the gravity of that realization was driving her to silent lunacy.

“Whatever scenario you’re coming up with in your head, stop it, you’ll start panicking,” Ben reached across the table to grasp Y/N’s hand lightly, his thumb smoothing over the back of it. “It’s kind of a scary, tricky… uh, delicate, subject, but how would you feel about maybe just talking to them about it instead of bottling things up? Even at the cookout in August, I could tell most of them cared about you quite deeply.”

“Can you imagine that conversation, Ben? ‘Hey guys, I know we’re in the middle of dinner and it’s not like you can get away from me after this, but I accidentally fell in love with all of you, so that’s why I’ve been walking around like a bumbling idiot’,” Y/N hissed, her face going hot just by visualizing that scene in her head. “Also, I haven’t even told you what happened yesterday, and if a confession to the seven of them went anything like what went down last night, I’d have to move to a rock out in the middle of the sea.”

 Motioning for her to explain, Y/N launched into the long, complicated report on her interaction with Yoongi post piano lesson, speaking in a hurried and hushed tone. Ben listened carefully, but Y/N chose to leave out some of the more supernatural aspects of her first meeting with Yoongi in The Black Lodge– Ben was a skeptic, at best, so she told him she had gotten too drunk and forgot about meeting Yoongi. By the time she had ended her story with how Yoongi seemed to be acting like nothing happened, Ben’s eyebrows were knitted and their breakfasts had long since been polished off and forgotten. 

“Uh…” Ben leaned back in his seat after he was stunned speechless for several moments, robotically passing his credit card to the waiter, his free hand coming up to rub his close-cut beard. “You weren’t bullshitting me with that text last night. That’s a lot to unpack.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. He pretty much revealed to me that he knows I’m crushing on them all, totally called me out on it. Even went as far as saying it wouldn’t be long before the others figure it out, too,” Y/N moaned miserably into her hands, covering her face exhaustedly. 

“Y/N… from what you told me,” Ben started gently, as if he was trying not to spook a nervous animal. “I think Yoongi likes you too. I mean, he waited for a year for you to remember him, he said he enjoyed talking to you, and honey– he kissed you. You shouldn’t take that bit lightly, either. Predator hybrids like Yoongi, specifically the big cats or canines, are extremely selective when it comes to choosing their romantic partners. To them, it’s like finding their mate.”

“I– no. If that was the case, he would have told me, I’m sure of it. You’ve seen him, right? Met him? He’s gorgeous, funny, caring, can cook like a dream and is a talented pianist; he could have anybody he wants, and I’m not exempt from that, and he knows it… so that’s my reasoning, I guess.”

“Why are you spewing nonsense? You’re starting to tick me off. You were never this full of self doubt in the past, especially over a man. You have to talk to him about this, sooner rather than later. Tell him how you feel, and don’t beat around the bush. And even though I’m almost positive that he likes you romantically, you two need to sort it out before the others catch on and it spirals into something even more tangled,” Ben, as they prepared to leave the restaurant, helped Y/N shrug into her coat, his hands on her shoulders as he gave her a necessary reality check– though his expression was sympathetic and full of concern. “I’ll help you out. I can borrow a couple of your guys on Monday to watch Daisy while I go into the office, and you see if you can somehow get Yoongi alone, okay?”

“Monday…” Y/N blanched, not prepared to throw caution to the wind and admit her feelings that soon. “I-I guess I can make that work. Seokjin and Joonie will be at the library with my mom for the book club, Tae at the rec center preparing for his next expo…”

“Alright. I’ll take the other three for babysitting– the cowboy, the grump, and Foxy, am I correct?” Ben attempted to lighten the mood, holding the restaurant door open for Y/N with a wry grin. “You can do this, Y/N. You’re a smart, beautiful young woman, and I know how much you love those boys. They all deserve to know how much you do– but start with Yoongi.”

Y/N made a noncommittal, grumbling noise, grinding her teeth as the bitter wind whipped through the streets of Boston. Autumn was nearly over, and the harsh winter was well on its way, Christmas decorations already beginning to pop up on certain storefronts. 

“If it goes to shit, I’m calling you. You know how I am with romantic confessions. Remember Liam in high school? I broke out in hives asking him to homecoming,” Y/N muttered, grabbing Ben’s hand and shoving their joined palms into his coat pocket, her best friend snickering at the memory. “Can we change the subject? I’m starting to feel itchy. You can still swing by Copley with me, right?”

“Yeah, I have some time. What are you going there for?” Ben steered her in a different direction than they were going, cutting through some side streets to get to the mall. 

“I’m picking up some things for Seokjin’s birthday, it’s coming up really soon. I found some cookware online I think he’d like, he’s been into culinary pursuits recently,” Y/N felt some of her anxiety dissipate as she thought about sweet Seokjin. He had pouted that morning when she left to meet Ben, and it was hard to pry him off of her as she was heading out the front door. 

“Oh! That reminds me. Has Sarah gotten in touch with you?” 

“She did, actually. We’re planning to meet at some point after the holidays, probably in January. I don’t know if I should tell Seokjin, or keep it a surprise for a little while…” Y/N bit her lip, recalling the pleasant email exchanges she had with the woman who had adopted Hannah. 

“With everything you’ve got going on right now, I think it’s alright to hold off on telling him until the plan is more concrete. Focus on the two birthdays you have coming up, Christmas, and sorting out the thing with Yoongi,” Ben shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s fingers as they ambled down the frosty sidewalk. 

“Shit. I have to order Christmas presents soon…” Y/N used her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, thanking the sky that she had that extra income from the boarded horses– gifts for seven hybrids and her other friends and family would certainly add up cost-wise. “I wish I had an assistant to keep track of everything I have to do.”

“Ah, you say that, but I haven’t seen you this happy in years, Y/N,” Ben countered, winking at her. “Even with all of the romantic drama, adopting those boys brought you back to life.”

“Stop being sappy, I’ll cry. Seriously, I will! They’re not around to fuss over me right now and I can do so freely, and that’s an opportunity I would take if you keep it up,” Y/N nudged Ben in the ribs, separating from him as they reached the revolving doors of Copley Place. 

Once in the toasty mall, she and Ben changed the direction of their conversation, Y/N feeling merry despite the looming task of confronting Yoongi in two day’s time. They made plans to have a holiday get-together at her house, with Roy and Daisy, and the Santos twins as well, all while piling items into a cart for Seokjin’s birthday. 

“Come on, sweets, won’t you do it for me?” Y/N was perched on the velvet bench at the foot of Jeongguk’s bed, attempting to convince him to go willingly to Ben’s for ‘babysitting’ early Monday afternoon. She tried to make her eyes as doelike as possible, Jeongguk chewing on his lip ring with his arms crossed, staring down at her. 

“That pouting doesn’t work on me. Go find literally anyone else in the house it does work on, Y/N,” Jeongguk tsked, pulling a few buttons loose on the creamy button-down he was wearing. 

“Okay, shithead. You want to be sassy today? Be my guest. Just saying though, Daisy has been asking for you. Ben says you’re one of her favorites,” Y/N bit back, just to see if guilting him was the way to go. Jeongguk simply shook his head, having the audacity to look amused by her outburst. She was already on edge, and his nonchalance and stubbornness did not make things better. “Maybe this will sweeten the pot. Ben said he was going to pay you guys.”

“Bribery, coercion, ass-kissing… you must really want me out of the house today,” Jeongguk drawled, turning away from Y/N as he used his floor-length mirror to clasp the necklace her mother gave him for his birthday around his neck. Through the thin material of his light-colored shirt, Y/N could faintly detect the black lines of the mystery tattoo on his back. 

“No, but it wouldn’t kill you, Jeongguk. Don’t you want to get out for a little bit? You, Hoseok, and Jimin can take Daisy to the playground in the Common, get some food, walk around…” Y/N refrained from flinching when the elk hybrid accurately called her out for shooing him out. 

“How the fuck can we go out without a human with us? Won’t the four of us get scooped up by agents and tossed back into Gerry’s shithole shelter? Besides, why does a four-year-old hybrid need three babysitters, aren’t Foxy and Blondie enough?” Jeongguk approached Y/N once more, using his thumb and forefinger to gently flick her forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re such a little shit,” Y/N rubbed the spot he flicked, even though it didn’t hurt at all. “I ordered you all ID’s, remember? They arrived this morning. If you get stopped, you show agents your ID, and it tells them that you’re adopted and can roam even without me being present. Daisy has one too, the version for children… She needed it for enrollment in her daycare.”

Jeongguk paused in contemplation, his eyes scanning her face thoughtfully as she squirmed on the bench under his scrutiny, one of his ears lazily twitching. It was a stare-down, Y/N needed to have that talk with Yoongi, and she wanted the conversation to be as private as possible, and Jeongguk seemed a touch suspicious. 

“You really want me to go babysit the bunny that badly?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes, a spark of triumph lighting up inside of Y/N as she sensed him beginning to cave. 

“Yes, please! I’ll call in some baked ziti for you from Sal’s for dinner,” Y/N jumped to her feet, Jeongguk rolling his eyes and sticking his notebook into the pocket of his baggy black cargo pants. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re only saying that because I’m doing you a favor, and you probably want pizza yourself, kiddo,” Jeongguk grunted as Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, scoffing at him indignantly. 

“I’m only like a year younger than you. ‘Kiddo’, really?” Y/N paused by his bedroom door, softening up once seeing the twinkle of merriment in Jeongguk’s dark eyes. 

Suddenly overwhelmed with affection for the elk hybrid, considering how much he had warmed up to her over the past few weeks, she leaned up on her tip-toes, lips brushing over his sharp cheekbone for a barely-there kiss while he froze to a complete stand-still. Pulling away as quickly as she could before he could say anything, she giggled at how round his eyes became before heading out to the hall. 

“Thanks for the favor, sweets. Ben will be here in 15 minutes to pick you and the other two up!” She called over her shoulder, hurrying away with the image of Jeongguk looking adorably stunned burned into her retinas. 

Bounding downstairs, Y/N managed to round up Jimin and Hoseok from the backyard, both of them more than willing to watch Daisy for a bit– the both of them practically doted on her. She handed out their new-and-shiny ID’s, Y/N smiling at the pictures on the cards. Staring at Jeongguk’s picture, with a serious expression on his face, she snorted at the way his antlers didn’t quite fit in the frame. 

“Tae did a nice job with all of your photos for these, huh?” Y/N gushed, brushing her fingertips over the tiny picture on Namjoon’s ID, which she’d have to give to him later. “Next time I get my license renewed, I want him to take my picture too, I always look washed out and horrendous in the ones taken at the DMV.”

“I doubt that, Y/N. You always look nice in pictures, even the ones Taehyung takes of you,” Jimin disagreed with her, grinning when she pinched his fleshy cheek bashfully. 

“Such a charmer, Jiminie. Aw, her heart’s racing,” Hoseok crooned, squeezing himself in between her and the coyote hybrid, a wicked smirk on his face as he patted his chest to mimic heartbeats.

Hissing, Y/N tried to step away from the teasing bastard, even more humiliated now, but Hoseok was far too quick for her to make a feeble human’s attempt at escape. Boldly, he grabbed her by the belt loops of her jeans, bending low to press one of his ears over her heart. Squeaking as she wiggled in his grasp, a few of his fingertips slipping into the waistband of her jeans to keep her in place, his skin burning hot with hybrid heat. 

“Hear that, Jiminie? It’s beating even faster now!” Hoseok continued gleefully, squeezing the flesh over her hip bones before he– mercifully– pulled away. “How cute, darling, you’re way too easy to flatter, and even easier to tease.”

“Hoseok,” Y/N used all of her strength to prevent herself from melting into the floorboards, not even noticing that Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and Jeongguk had crept into the foyer during the spectacle. “Stop fucking with me, the playing field isn’t even. I can’t hear your heartbeat, or smell your embarrassment, or whatever.”

“You could always try flattery, you have a knack for it,” Jeongguk leaned against the front door, seemingly recovered from the smooch she planted on his cheek only moments ago. 

“Brat,” Y/N sneered, though it was half hearted, and she was interrupted by a three-beat honk from outside. “Ooh, Ben’s here. Okay, I think you two have poked enough fun at me, get going. See you soon, sweetheart, have fun and be safe.”

Y/N murmured her last statement directly to Jimin, using a hand to shove Hoseok towards Jeongguk and out of the front door. Patting Jimin’s shoulder lightly, she leaned up to whisper into his ear. 

“You’re in charge, make sure those two don’t swear in front of Daisy, please,” though Y/N was whispering in Jimin’s ear, she was the one shivering with the proximity, intoxicating, dark lavender filling her senses and calming her steadily-climbing anxiety; it was almost time for her to look for Yoongi, who she hadn’t seen the entire day. 

“See you later, Y/N,” Jimin grinned like he knew something she didn’t, craning his neck sideways to press a kiss to one of her knuckles, her hand turning clammy as it slipped from his shoulder when he strolled out the front door. 

Y/N stood in the threshold of the door, watching the three hybrids get into Ben’s car, and stayed until Ben drove off down the street. The silence that followed their departure was eerie, Y/N wondering if Yoongi was taking a nap or was even in the house at all. Typically, during the early afternoon, the leopard hybrid would be messing around on the piano or reading a book in the parlor, but there was no music coming from upstairs and the heavily trafficked parlor was deserted and dark. Sighing, Y/N started to stack logs into the fireplace, knowing if Taehyung came home later and there was no fire, he’d be upset. She knew that she was stalling the inevitable, finding Yoongi and having the conversation she had been dreading for 48 hours, but she tried to summon courage to face him from the growing flames in the fireplace. 

Once she had mustered enough nerve, Y/N wandered through the house to find Yoongi. She searched every nook and cranny, every back hallway and hidden passageway, but clearly he wasn’t inside. Muttering under her breath, she dropped some clean laundry off in Namjoon’s room, pulling on the sherpa-lined jean jacket he had draped over his desk chair to prepare herself for traipsing around the yard. Inhaling Namjoon’s scent on the collar of his jacket, the oversized fabric swallowing her whole, she felt warmth fill her up with the notes of honey and Namjoon. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Y/N whimpered as soon as she opened the slider to the backyard, wrapping Namjoon’s coat more tightly around her torso. In the distance, horses were whinnying in the stable, and there were some creepy looking turkey vultures sitting in the naked oak tree next to the picnic table. “Where’s my angel…”

The sky was a gloomy gray, and Y/N wondered if snow was on the way with the way the frost-dusted grass was crunching under her feet. That quiet, still sensation just before a snowstorm was present, as well, which is why the echoing sound of a basketball striking asphalt made her jolt in surprise. Bingo. 

Weaving her way past the gate to the driveway and garage, Y/N let out a nervous breath, becoming a misty cloud of white in front of her. The turkey vultures in the oak tree started making their disturbing, guttural shrieks, sending a chill down her spine. Quickening her pace, butterflies started fluttering in her stomach as the basketball hoop came into view. 

Aware that Yoongi could both hear and smell her, she paused several feet away, eyes sweeping the area for the leopard hybrid. He was just there, she was sure of it, but he was nowhere in sight. 

“Yoongi? Where are you?” Y/N called, annoyed with the possibility that he was avoiding her on purpose. She knelt down, numb fingers grasping the acid-washed hoodie Yoongi must have tossed onto the ground, when a pair of sneakers appeared in her line of vision, she glanced up at the owner, swearing colorfully. 

Yoongi was staring down at her, basketball tucked under his arm, very sweaty and very much without a shirt. Mouth drying up, she felt a range of emotions flood through her; fluster, affection, happiness, concern, before finally landing on anger. 

“Oh my god, it’s like thirty degrees out here! Put this on,” Y/N impulsively threw his sweatshirt at him, hitting him square in the chest before it unceremoniously fell back onto the pavement. 

“I was too hot. Hybrid body heat, silly girl,” Yoongi replied simply, his old nickname for her making a comeback. Unfortunately for Y/N, paired with his damp, long hair and naked chest, it sent a bolt of arousal through her unexpectedly. Hopefully he couldn’t smell it. “What’s up? Where is everyone?”

Y/N read between the lines– that was Yoongi’s newest code for ‘find one of the others, I don’t want to talk to you’. Gritting her teeth, she managed to straighten up, forcing herself to look him in the eyes and not the dewy skin over his collarbones. 

“They’re all out. It’s just you and I, at the moment,” Y/N cleared her throat, getting a strong blast of vanilla-and-cloves as Yoongi passed a veiny hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Please, for my sake, put on the sweatshirt. I don’t want you turning into a popsicle.”

“Nah,” Yoongi turned away from her, dribbling the ball and aiming to shoot it into the basket, his tail curling around his leg as it usually did when he’d play. “Why, don’t like what you see?”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she watched the muscles in his back move and flex, effortlessly sinking the ball into the basket and elegantly slinking to the hoop to retrieve the ball before it could bounce away. The pale skin of his chest was slightly flushed pink, making Y/N’s mouth water, and all at once she felt like a creep. 

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Yoongi drawled, his gravelly voice raising goosebumps on her flesh. Apparently, her hybrids felt like toying with her that day. 

Steeling herself, she approached Yoongi with determination, forgetting all about his sweatshirt, his expression growing curious and spotted ears flattening against his head at their proximity.

“Are you avoiding me again? We never finished our… conversation,” Y/N began, chickening out on professing her love right away, considering his lack of a shirt. 

“You reek like the wolf,” Yoongi dodged the question and subject entirely, moving like he was going to take another shot at the hoop. Before he could get far, Y/N reached out and yanked the basketball out of his hands, scowling. 

“We need to talk, Yoongi. You’ve hardly been able to stand in the same room as me longer than five minutes since that night,” Y/N averted her eyes from his face, finding it hard to look at him with all the emotions running through her. 

Yoongi sighed, the sound of it seemingly coming from the depths of his soul, scooping his sweatshirt off of the ground and shrugging it on. 

“Let’s go inside. Seokjin would die if he saw you out here without a hat,” Yoongi mumbled, resigned, and motioned for Y/N to follow him into the house. 

They were quiet, Y/N’s pulse thundering in her ears, positively dreading the conversation they were about to have. If Yoongi rejected her, she’d have to lock herself in her room to cry and  lick her wounds for hours, but if he didn’t… how on earth would she explain the situation between her and Yoongi to the others?

“So, what is there to ‘finish’ about our conversation?” Yoongi broke the silence as he followed her up to the music room– the most soundproof room in the house, lest someone come home early and interrupt them. Yoongi sounded bitter, like the words on his tongue tasted of grave dirt, Y/N wincing knowing that she was the cause of it. “I thought we wrapped it up already. What’s the use of beating a dead horse? We met before, you forgot, we kissed, now we’re here. End of story.”

“No, Yoongi, it’s not. I–” Y/N cut herself off, sinking down onto the couch with her head in her hands. “Let me apologize, first. I don’t want you to think that our kiss was a drunken mistake to me. I shouldn’t have insinuated that. I’m sorry, angel.”

Yoongi stiffened, at either her words or her nickname for him, she didn’t know. He remained standing in front of her, ears perked up and alert, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. 

“I’m sorry I can’t remember. Believe me, I want to, more than anything. I’ve been having dreams, though, flashes of a memory. Maybe it will return to me, in time,” Y/N peeked at Yoongi through her fingertips, nervously chewing on her lip. 

“Y/N–” 

“Please, just, can you hear me out for a minute?” Y/N interrupted whatever warning he was undoubtedly trying to dole out, desperate to get it over with before she lost her nerve. “Last time we talked about this, you said you knew how I felt, about you, about the others, but I changed the subject.”

Yoongi nodded, his eyes narrowing and arms crossing over his chest, waiting for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Y/N dropped her hands from her face, finally making eye-contact with the leopard hybrid, who appeared to be taking in all of her micro reactions. 

“You were right, or are right, about my feelings. I’m only starting to, um, understand those feelings, but you noticed them before I even realized they were there,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, growing hot in the face. “I’m sorry for hiding it, and I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Met with silence, Y/N’s worst fear was coming to life; he was going to reject her, their relationship would be permanently damaged, and her heart was going to shatter. Yoongi simply stared at her with that sharp feline gaze, a muscle in his jaw working and his expression giving away nothing as two what he was thinking. 

“I don’t want to lie to you anymore, and it’s totally fine that you don’t feel the same way, but I need to tell you,” Y/N’s voice became shaky, heart feeling like it was going to explode, ready to careen off the edge of no return. “I love you, Yoongi.”

The world went still, not even the birds outside chirping, and Y/N wasn’t confident that she was breathing anymore. Without a word, Yoongi turned on his heel, plopped down on the bench and slid a hand over the weathered keys of the piano. Baffled and heartbroken, Y/N sat frozen on the couch, stiff as a board and head spinning. 

Before her vision could go black, Yoongi began to play. Eyes snapping open, she couldn’t help the gasp that ripped from her chest; Yoongi was playing the song he had composed, the one he previously wouldn’t perform for her even upon her countless requests to. Though his face was blank of emotion, his playing certainly wasn’t, and the song almost breathed air as his hands floated across the keys. It was one of the most beautiful songs she had ever heard, so much so that she wasn’t even aware that she was crying until she felt the hot tears tracking down her cheeks. 

It was over too soon, the final note ringing out solemnly, Yoongi standing from the bench and heading towards the door, his ears flat against his head again. He stopped, hand twitching over the doorknob when he heard Y/N sniffle pathetically, looking over his shoulder. Heart bursting into smithereens at the look of anguish on his face, Y/N wanted to rush over to him, but couldn’t bear looking at him any longer. 

“I wrote that the day after we met. The first thing I composed in years. I wrote it for you.”

With that, Yoongi left the room, Y/N feeling her tears run down her neck, listening to the sound of him closing the door to his bedroom and turning on the tap to his shower. 

“So Y/N, it wasn’t exactly a rejection,” Laura soothed through the phone, Y/N humming noncommittally. She was in her car in the driveway, several days later, Seokjin’s birthday, his birthday cake sitting on the passenger seat beside her. 

“I don’t know what the fuck it was. He’s been walking around the house like a fucking ghost for days now, I think I broke him,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, not believing that she had to resort to taking phone calls in her car to avoid eavesdropping. “I set out to see if I could fix things, or tell him my feelings, but now everything is even more messed up. I don’t know what to do.”

“Give him time, honey. He shouldn’t be leaving you hanging like that, but maybe it’s a lot to process for him. Your hybrids have been through a lot, he probably wasn’t expecting you to confront him,” Laura theorized, making Y/N snort. She had just accepted that Yoongi had been weirded out and didn’t reciprocate her feelings, but she humored Laura anyway. 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep you updated, I guess,” Y/N replied airily, eyes landing on the pink buttercream frosting spelling out Seokjin’s name on his cake, a small smile spreading across her face despite everything. “I gotta run, Laura. Have to round everyone up for Seokjin’s brunch.”

“Keep me updated!” Laura exclaimed urgently, Y/N grunting in response, before hanging up and hauling herself outside. She moved Seokjin’s cake to the trunk where his gifts were, making room for him to sit next to her during the ride to the restaurant. 

Y/N: Time to go! Reservation is at noon <3

Hoseok 🦊: Jinnie looks so handsome on his birthday 🤧

Seokjinnie 🌸: -_-

Jimin 🦋: We’re coming!

Y/N: Can one of you please lock the door on the way out

Joonie 🐺: I got it.

Making sure the heat was cranked up in the cab for Seokjin, she watched the front door like a hawk, waiting for everyone to file out. They came out in pairs, first Jimin and Taehyung, then Hoseok and Seokjin. Last out was Jeongguk and Yoongi, followed by Namjoon diligently locking the door and even giving the handle a jiggle to ensure it was deadbolted. Feeling warm all over at the sight of them, all dressed up in their unique styles, Y/N grinned, even though her heart was still bleeding for Yoongi. She pushed that aside, for now, for Seokjin, determined to give him the best birthday ever. 

“It’s so cold! Fuckin’ Boston weather,” Hoseok whined, the first one to the car, sliding in the seat behind Y/N. “Would moving to Florida ever be an option?” 

“Hell no,” Y/N twisted her face up in disgust even thinking about swampy Florida summers. “We can visit someday, though. Go to Disney World or something.”

“Where are your gloves?” Seokjin climbed into the passenger seat, Namjoon begrudgingly giving up his designated spot for the birthday boy, pointedly narrowing his orange eyes at her bare hands on the steering wheel. 

“Oh, somewhere in the house. I don’t need them, we’re going from the car to the restaurant,” Y/N blushed when he took her hands in his, his thick lips puckering to blow warm air onto them. “Happy birthday, my Seokjinnie!”

“You’re old as fuck,” Jeongguk commented from the third row of seats, his hair slicked back with gel as Y/N glared at him in the rearview mirror. “30? Judas priest.”

“Have some respect for your elders, fuckface,” Hoseok defended Seokjin, a lazy smile on his face when Y/N turned around to back out of her spot in front of the house. 

“Please, stop swearing,” Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose delicately, making Y/N snort. 

She drove one-handed to the restaurant, one of them captured by Seokjin, who was doing the thing where he lightly traced his fingertips over her skin in endless patterns. He was purring, too, Y/N stealing glances of him every once in a while– Hoseok was right, he looked unbearably handsome. Shiny, wavy raven hair, a cozy plum-colored sweater, and his expression content and relaxed. 

When they arrived, Y/N had Namjoon and Taehyung help her bring in the cake and the gifts, never letting go of Seokjin’s hand once. She shouldn’t have noticed, but she did, that Yoongi was keeping a lot of space between them, sitting the furthest away from her at the table and silently reading the menu while everyone else chatted. If the other hybrids had noticed his odd behavior the past few days, they were very good at pretending they didn’t. 

Shaking her head, she put all of her attention on Seokjin, who still hadn’t released her hand. He wiggled in his seat happily, tail curling around her lower back, scooching his chair closer to Y/N. 

“What are you going to get?” Y/N leaned her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder, reading his menu instead of her own. With a purr, Seokjin pointed out a few items, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “Ooh, that sounds yummy! Eggs benedict?”

They ended up ordering an obscene amount of food, Y/N passing on the mimosas so she could drive home uncompromised, but ordered a round for all of the hybrids. 

“So, how’s the book of the week so far?” Y/N asked Seokjin, who was taking a dainty sip of his mimosa. “A Christmas Carol, right?”

“Mm-hm. It’s a little early for Christmas stories in my opinion, though,” Seokjin cocked his head, a contemplative look on his face. “Have you been sleeping okay lately, Y/N?”

Seokjin was too kind to not point out the very obvious dark circles under her eyes, but she knew that was why he asked. Truthfully, she was lucky if she got three hours of sleep every night since she told Yoongi she loved him, but she couldn’t admit that to Seokjin. The last thing she wanted was to concern him on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’ve just been having strange dreams that sometimes wake me up. I’m perfectly fine, though, honey,” Y/N attempted to soothe, Seokjin nodding and taking another swig of his mimosa. 

Thankfully, before he could pry, food arrived, and Y/N busied herself by stuffing her face so she didn’t have to talk. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever celebrated my birthday,” Seokjin admitted quietly, the food in front of him untouched as he seemingly soaked everything in. Chest squeezing, Y/N snaked an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his sweater. 

“Good thing you’ll have plenty more to celebrate each year, to make up for that,” she replied equally as soft, Seokjin’s eyes softening as he returned a kiss to her– his lips stamping affection on the crown of her head. 

Flushing, she caught Yoongi’s eyes across the table, that same blank look on his face from when he played the song for her days ago. Her song. Hurriedly looking back down at her food, she stuffed the emotion welling up inside her deep down. 

“Try this,” Seokjin interrupted her attempt to not wallow, a fork with a perfect bite of eggs benedict on it appearing in front of her face. 

Automatically, she opened her mouth like it was second nature; Seokjin often liked to feed her bites of his food like that, and she was never one to deny him. His lips twisted up into a smug smirk, using his free hand to cup her jaw like always, angling her face upwards so he could feed her the bite of his entree. She felt eyes on her from the whole table, but she couldn’t have cared less, locked in on the way Seokjin’s gaze was fixed on her mouth. 

“How is it?” Seokjin asked through his shit-eating grin, his touch vanishing but his tail still curled around her waist. 

“Mmm,” was all Y/N could articulate, swallowing slowly and unable to break free from his spell. 

“Spoiled,” Seokjin murmured, tutting. Heart falling to her ass, she gawked at his gorgeous side profile with utter disbelief, ears turning hot with humiliation and something else. 

“H-huh?” She squeaked, though the jaguar hybrid simply resumed eating, striking up a conversation with Hoseok a couple of seats down, still smirking. 

Reeling, Y/N managed to choke down the remainder of her meal, only snapping out of it when the waitresses came by with Seokjin’s cake, lit up with sparkler candles. Amazingly, Seokjin didn’t even flinch when the cake was placed in front of him, despite his usual aversion to things that were on fire or noisy, his cheeks rounding out as he read the top of his cake and blew out the candles. Hoseok sang a rather off-key version of “Happy Birthday” with the waitresses, and Y/N noticed that Taehyung had brought his camera with him, furiously taking pictures with flash of the entire event. 

“You got the lavender cake!” Seokjin exclaimed while Y/N was cutting a slice for him, pink frosting covering the pale purple sponge; a very Seokjin color scheme. 

“I did! You said you liked it a few months ago, I hope you still do,” Y/N pushed the plate in front of him, wondering if she should have a slice herself, considering how stuffed she was from all of the food Seokjin had just fed her. 

This time, Seokjin was the one blushing, mouth full of cake. Chuckling, she ruffled his hair, sliding plate after plate of cake down the table for each of the hybrids, astonished that they still had room in their tummies. 

“Okay, so what did you get Jinnie for his birthday? Did you snag him an audition on Masterchef?” Hoseok asked, frosting coating his lips. 

“Oh! Joonie, can you pass me those bags?” Y/N exclaimed, Namjoon getting up from his booth seat to deliver the three gifts at the head of the table, his damaged ear flickering when she called his name. 

Seokjin, who wasn’t quite as shy as he was when she first met him, accepted the first gift bag with pink ears despite all of his opening up. The whole table– apart from Yoongi, who excused himself to the bathroom minutes prior– watched Seokjin peer into the bag with rapt interest. 

The first gift was from her mother, a lovely vintage watch that Y/N had helped her pick out at a pawn shop recently. When she spotted it in the shop, it had Seokjin written all over it; elegant and classic, and went well with his polished wardrobe. Hoseok oohed and aahed, reaching across the table to strap it on Seokjin’s left wrist for him. Giggling, Y/N admired the way it looked on his slim wrist, leaning against his arm while he went for the other two gifts; several sweaters and shirts in various shades of pinks and neutrals, a pretty set of silver dangling earrings (Y/N noticed that he had two lobe piercings on his left ear, but didn’t have any earrings to put through them), and a set of brand-new Japanese knives. He loved every single gift, gushing over the knives in particular, but he had to slap Hoseok’s hand away when the fox hybrid attempted to put the earrings on Seokjin. 

Once the cake was eaten and plates were cleared away, Jeongguk and Namjoon both began to grow antsy, probably hoping to leave soon and get back to their routines. She handed her car keys to Taehyung beside her so he could pull the car around– he was the only one Y/N was confident that he knew how to drive, and Namjoon was known to speed– everyone following the Kodiak hybrid outside. Yoongi had long since returned from the bathroom, but once he saw that it was just Seokjin and Y/N waiting at the table to pay the bill, he too went out to the car. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Today was…” Seokjin trailed off, like he was at a loss for words. They were standing by the bar, waiting for his leftover cake to be boxed up, Seokjin straightening out Y/N’s coat and making sure it was clasped correctly. “Perfect.”

“My Seokjinnie,” Y/N cooed, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in chest. She felt him purring, his own arms coiling around her back, rubbing circles over her coat. “I have one more thing for you.”

Pulling away, she chuckled at the look of bewilderment lighting up his features, Y/N reaching into the pocket of her coat for an envelope, offering it to him with a wink. Carefully, Seokjin tore the envelope open, fishing out the two pieces of paper from within and turning them over. His eyes scanned the text, his pupils blowing out wide and mouth dropping open once he registered exactly what he was holding.

“A cooking class,” Seokjin breathed, cheeks turning bright pink. “At Eataly?”

“Yeah! I heard the classes there are awesome, and in that class you get to have wine pairings with whatever you cook, you learn about the regions in Italy where the dishes come from. You’ve been so into cooking lately, and I thought the class would be perfect for you, especially with the wine pairing aspect,” Y/N explained, Seokjin hanging on every word and reading the tickets over and over. “It’s in February. I got two tickets, so you can take whoever you like. Hoseok, Yoongi, Joonie, it’s your choice!”

Seokjin froze, a curious look in his eyes, tucking the tickets back into the envelope and reaching for Y/N’s hand again. 

“You don’t wanna come with me?” Seokjin squeezed her hand, a frown on his face for the first time that day. Blinking, Y/N made a noise of surprise. 

“Me? You want me to take the class with you?” Y/N asked stupidly, Seokjin furiously nodding and his ears perking up. 

“I don’t want to take it with anyone but you,” Seokjin confirmed resolutely, taking his cake box from a waitress ogling him without so much of a glance in her direction. Heart soaring upon hearing those words, Y/N couldn’t help but give him another tight hug. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you. Can’t wait,” Y/N agreed, mouth full of his felt coat. 

Seokjin just grinned brilliantly, leaving her embrace, tugging her towards the door, where her Land Cruiser was double-parked with the rest of the hybrids. 

“Let’s go home,” Seokjin held the door to the restaurant open for her, uttering the statement like it had great meaning to him. 

Even though she shouldn’t have, she let Taehyung drive home, Yoongi sitting beside him, while Y/N squeezed into the backseat between Namjoon and Seokjin. It was halfway back to the house when she realized Taehyung wasn’t using GPS; he knew where home was by memory, or perhaps by heart. 

“It’s just a piano lesson, just act natural, like nothing’s wrong,” Y/N glared at herself in her bathroom mirror, pinching her own cheeks to bring life back into her complexion. “Just act like you aren’t in love with the teacher.”

Groaning, Y/N switched off the bathroom light, feeling a touch ill. She had barely spoken more than a handful of words to Yoongi in over a week, nerves still too raw. Last week, she skipped her lesson, not even bringing it up to the leopard hybrid, and spent much of that Friday out in the stable with Jimin taking care of the animals. That week, however, she ironically decided to face the music and resume with the lessons, an attempt to grasp a sense of normalcy between her and Yoongi. 

Y/N paused before she left her bedroom, shooting her crumpled sheets a dirty look. Sleep still evaded her, and her dreams had been getting more and more vivid and taunting, the locked memory of her first meeting with Yoongi driving her insane even while unconscious. Growling, she left her room, taking a peek into Namjoon’s bedroom to find it empty, disappointment flooding through her. He must have been in his trailer, where he and Jeongguk had been hanging out recently like a pair of Ghostbusters.

She could hear a movie going on in the parlor, but she didn’t stop by to see what was on or who was watching, not wanting to drag her feet any longer. Y/N knew that Yoongi wasn’t there; he spent most of his time those days in the music room with the doors shut. Poor Taehyung couldn’t even use the record player all week. 

Crawling up the stairs, once she reached the room at the end of the hall, she knocked on the closed doors. Of course, he knew that it was her, but there was still a chance that he wouldn’t open up. As the door opened, her heart throbbed at the sight of him– similarly tired looking, just like her. Yoongi stepped aside, letting her into the room, before promptly shutting the both of them into the silent room. 

The room was a mess, sheet music strewn everywhere, a throw blanket tossed messily over the loveseat, several dirty mugs on the coffee table. She half-turned, too grief-stricken to face him fully, she gestured around the room. 

“Have you been sleeping in here?” Y/N managed, picking a crumpled piece of sheet music off of the ground, instantly recognizing the writing on the paper to be in Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi ran a hand over his face, his clothing all wrinkled and pen ink covering his fingers. “Um, I guess as long as it’s comfortable…”

“What do you want?” Yoongi asked softly, Y/N flinching at the question like she was burned with a fire poker. 

“I just wanted to ask… If we could have a lesson? If you still want to teach me? I understand if you don’t,” Y/N felt her throat grow sore from trying to keep down tears, feeling like a giant crybaby. 

Yoongi grunted, trudging over to the piano, pushing sheet music off of the bench and sitting down. 

“Come,” Yoongi patted the bench, avoiding her eyes, tail wrapping around his waist snugly. 

Y/N’s legs moved on their own accord, perching on the edge of the bench as far away from him as she could accomplish, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by touching him. Scanning the sheet music in front of her, already able to read it pretty well thanks to his vigorous teaching style, she heard the notes in her head as her eyes roamed over the notes. 

“Is this…?” Y/N timidly pointed to the paper, unable to look at him whatsoever. This was a terrible mistake. 

“It’s your song,” Yoongi gruffly admitted, his voice coming out strained. “I can teach you.”

Nodding, she was surprised she was able to keep the waterworks at bay, Yoongi launching into his lesson patiently. Y/N was leagues better and playing than she was months ago, so Yoongi hardly had to correct her or fix her hand placements, but the air in the room was suffocating her. Being so close to him, so close yet emotionally miles apart, had the queasy feeling in her gut growing by the second. 

She made it halfway through the song, but the more complicated section of the piece was starting to trip her up. Fumbling through the same measure four times in a row, she huffed in annoyance, considering throwing in the towel for the night. 

“No, try again. Like this,” Yoongi snapped her out of her self-criticism, gently rearranging her fingers on the keys to form the correct chord, the contact shocking her so much that she yelped, her vision going black immediately. 

“Give me your number,” the girl– Y/N– demanded, apparently trying to sound confident, but her alcohol-flushed cheeks were countering her desire to seem intimidating. 

Yoongi chuckled, for what felt like the first time in years, watching the girl stick out her arm and using her free hand to dig around in her purse for something. With a triumphant grin, she produced a pen from her bag, shoving it in Yoongi’s palm. 

“Give me your number, Yoongi,” Y/N repeated, waving her bare forearm in his face. 

“Silly girl. Why don’t I just put it in your contacts?” Yoongi teased, though he was secretly delighted that she wanted to keep in touch with him. He prayed that you’d be the one to remember. 

“My phone died,” Y/N pouted– oh, she didn’t know how irresistible she was. “Just write it on my arm, I’ll plug it in to my phone tomorrow, I swear.”

She didn’t know that promises, when it came to The Black Lodge, often disappeared into thin air. She didn’t know that there was a strong possibility that come morning, she’d forget she was even at a bar, that she met him. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts from it, reaching out to hold her wrist steady, uncapping the pen with his teeth. Yoongi could tell she was holding her breath, her heart rate picking up as he copied his cell phone number onto her smooth flesh. 

“What time is it? I have work in the morning…” Y/N looked regretful, like she couldn’t bear to leave the bar. It pulled at his heartstrings, embarrassingly enough. 

“Midnight,” Yoongi checked his watch before looking back at her face, trying to memorize every inch of it. “You should probably get going. I’ll call you a cab.”

Yoongi let Y/N cling to his arm, a little unstable on her heels, walking her to the back entrance of the bar. He felt the ache of having to say goodbye to the first person who made him feel like a real person in years, but there was nothing he could do– it’s not like he could lock her away in his apartment upstairs just so he could have someone to come home to. Breathing in deeply, he knew that he’d miss her scent as soon as she’d get in the cab and drive away. 

Leaning by the door, watching for the cab out of the window, Yoongi tried to appear nonchalant, but he was truthfully shaken. Y/N was talking about a concert that she wanted to go to with him the following week, an indie band he never heard of. If you remembered him the next day, there was a possibility he’d have actual plans with someone. Someone interested in getting to know him. 

“Hey Yoongi?” Y/N brought him out of his reverie, frowning as he spotted her cab waiting outside. 

“What’s that, silly girl?” 

“Can you kiss me?” She asked quietly, Yoongi positive that only a hybrid could hear her with how low she spoke. “Please?”

Stunned, Yoongi swallowed thickly, forgetting all about the cabbie waiting outside and honking furiously. She looked shy, and judging by her scent, she was anxious. Stepping closer, Yoongi’s body moved on its own, his hands slightly shaking as they reached to cup her delicate jaw. Y/N sucked in a breath, gaze dropping to his mouth, before her pretty eyes fluttered shut. Stooping, Yoongi shut his own eyes, his lips finding purchase on hers, her sweet sigh being swallowed up by him willingly. She gripped his wrists, still cradling her face, her teeth nipping lightly at his lower lip. Y/N pulled away all too soon, looking dazed, Yoongi equally as breathless. She reached up, flicking the angel wing earring dangling from his ear, giggling. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow, angel.” 

With that, she disappeared into the night, and the call never came.

“Y/N? Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?” Yoongi, his voice somehow far away but definitely panicked, drew her out of whatever vision had taken over her body. She could feel herself being held, propped up against a heaving chest, a trembling hand cupping her cheek. “Y/N, please baby, open your eyes!”

Wheezing, Y/N could feel consciousness coming back to her piece by piece, the crack in Yoongi’s voice devastating her. Peeling her eyes open, she was met with Yoongi staring back at her, mortification and fear all over his face, ears pressed so flat to his skull she almost couldn’t see them. 

“What happened?” Y/N echoed Yoongi’s question back to him, her own voice scratchy. Yoongi, despite himself, pushed hair out of Y/N’s face, his whole body coiled with stress. 

“I don’t know. You passed out for a few seconds, but you s-sounded like you were having a terrible dream,” Yoongi’s voice cracked again, still holding her close to his chest. 

“I– it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a dream. I think,” Y/N spoke slowly, like her mouth was full of molasses. “I think it was a vision, like the ones my mom has.”

Y/N felt sapped of energy, entirely sagging into Yoongi’s embrace, forgetting all about how estranged they had been for weeks. When he put his hand over her’s, she got the vision. 

“What did you see, sweetheart?” Yoongi seemed to calm down a bit, though still held onto her like she was going to dissolve into smoke. 

“The bar, you and me. But from your perspective. Our kiss,” Y/N whispered, trying to replay the vision in her head over and over again, trying to remember how Yoongi’s lips felt on her. 

“You– you remembered?” Yoongi exclaimed, color flooding his cheeks. “Wait, what do you mean, from my perspective?”

“Like I was seeing it from your eyes,” Y/N explained tiredly, slumping further into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you the next day, angel.”

Yoongi went ramrod straight, a hiss coming from the back of his throat as he maneuvered Y/N upright by her upper arms so he could look into her eyes. 

“You need to stop apologizing to me,” Yoongi breathed, his eyebrows pulling together, pained. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” Y/N’s voice broke, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

“How many times am I going to make you cry?” Yoongi used a thumb to brush away the tears under her eyes, his anguished expression becoming even more pronounced. 

“I-I get that you don’t like me like that, Yoongi, b-but–”

“Y/N, I love you. I think I fell in love with you a year ago,” Yoongi confessed desperately, his other hand coming up to cup the side of her face. “As cheesy as that is. I love you, and it’s killing me.”

The world stopped, her heart stopped, and everything around her ceased to exist except for Yoongi. Tears drying up as if by command, Y/N searched for any sign of deception on his face or hidden in his body language, but came up with nothing. 

“You love me, too?” Y/N whimpered, heart aching from something else now. 

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes falling shut as he exhaled shakily. She twisted her fists into the fabric of his tee shirt, craving his warmth, savoring how close he was. 

“So fucking much,” Yoongi confirmed, voice above a whisper. “I love you so fucking much, baby.”

“Yoongi…” Y/N breathed, heart about to beat out of her chest. “Love you…”

With a purr rounding out into a growl, Yoongi moved one of his hands to the small of Y/N’s waist, dragging her closer to him. Inches away, danger, but also tenderness, filled his hazel eyes. He was beautiful. 

“Kiss me,” Yoongi’s barely audible request sent fireworks off in her gut, his eyes shutting again as he nudged his nose against hers. “Please.”

How could she possibly deny him, her Yoongi, her love, when he asked her so sweetly?

Pulse racing, Y/N released her hold on his shirt, tucking a long strand of jet black hair behind his ear, humming when he shuddered, placing her hand on the side of his neck, his own pulse thrumming as fast as hers was. 

“Please, baby,” Yoongi repeated, the pet name making her stomach flip. Without any more hesitation, Y/N leaned up, perfectly slotting her lips against Yoongi’s, gentle, slow, and impossibly sweet. 

His lips, full and soft, were yielding against hers, letting her take the lead, his hands remaining still– one holding her face, the other on her waist. Locking lips for several moments, innocent and so full of love, Y/N drew away, winded and over the moon. Yoongi stayed close, eyes lidded and breathing labored, before he spoke again. 

“More. Kiss me more.”

Yoongi pulled her into his lap, his tail curling around her waist, one arm around her back and the other traveling down to the outside of her thigh. Y/N, growing shy, gave him a simple peck, face on fire. She never imagined that this was how her night was going to go, but she couldn’t even remember when they weren’t like this before. Not satisfied with the measly peck she planted on the corner of his mouth, Yoongi chased after her, gripping her jaw tightly and descending his lips on her once more, Y/N gasping in surprise. Yoongi took that opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, swallowing the startled moan she made hungrily, the tip of his tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth. 

Melting in his grip, Y/N kissed him back with renewed vigor, a hand moving to tangle in his silky hair, pleased that he took over the kiss, lungs screaming for air as Yoongi sucked on her lower lip with a purr. As if sensing that she needed to catch her breath, Yoongi released her lip with a pop, his mouth peppering kisses along her sensitive jaw voraciously, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down. Sighing blissfully, Y/N’s head tilted back when his lips trailed to her neck, mouth wet and kisses searing her flesh.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” Yoongi groaned into her neck, lightly sucking on a spot behind her ear that had her mewling. “Let me mark you…”

Words failing her, Y/N nodded desperately, eager to feel his teeth sink into her flesh. Chuckling darkly, Yoongi started muttering sweet nothings, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat. The hand on her thigh moved again, this time to grab a loose hold of the base of her neck, Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her skull with the weight of his palm in such a vulnerable spot. 

“Hold onto me, my love,” Yoongi murmured in her ear, Y/N obediently tightening her grip around Yoongi’s waist, whining at the sensation of his teeth tracing the vein fluttering with her erratic pulse making her see stars behind her eyelids. 

With one more open-mouthed kiss to her throat, Yoongi bit down, Y/N crying out his name, never feeling more alive than in that moment, in his arms, teeth in her neck. Tail protectively curling even tighter around her waist, Yoongi’s purrs were growing so loud, he sounded more predatory than ever. She didn’t know if it was the fact that he loved her, that he was kissing her, or the the side effects of scenting, but Y/N swore her soul ascended as he removed his teeth from the mark, a sensual swipe of his tongue sweeping over the wound to cauterize it. 

Growing entirely limp in his arms, Y/N barely had the energy to kiss him back when his lips returned to hers, whimpering at the tangy taste of her own blood on his tongue. And then, all at once, his lips were gone. 

“I don’t want to get carried away, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s voice was strained, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead with a hum.

“What if I do?” Y/N countered dopily, her head full of cotton and Yoongi. Yoongi barked out a hearty laugh, unable to help himself by pecking her lips once more, smoothing her hair into place. She probably looked like she got attacked.

“Not tonight, love,” Yoongi helped her stand, snickering at her whining protests. “Let’s take it slow, hmm? You need to get some rest, proper rest. So do I.”

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N admitted begrudgingly, though she wanted nothing more than Yoongi kissing her senseless all night, her body was sagging with exhaustion. “Your edginess has been keeping me up for nights on end.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Yoongi apologized sincerely, his ears flattening against his skull again. Before he opened up the soundproofed door, he stopped, lifting her hand to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. “I love you.”

Realizing, until they figured out how to tell the others, they’d have to keep their affections to themselves, Y/N pouted even further. Now that she had a taste of him, she was insatiable. 

“I love you, too, angel.”

Silently, Yoongi walked Y/N to her bedroom, stealing one last kiss after making sure the hallway was clear, Y/N floating on air as she sunk onto her bed, Yoongi shutting the door and leaving her to relive everything that happened mentally. 

On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.

Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi? 

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @sometingreallycool @cathy-1997 @cerulean1riz

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[kcrossvine-art]

Heya folks n friends! Today on our LotR cooking series, we're going to be making something inspired by Mrs. Maggot, wife of Farmer Maggot. Originally we were going to do a cream of mushroom soup, but the idea of adding meat as a cheeky lil joke on their last names was too good to pass up. In my mind meat goes better with thin soups than creamy ones.

And thus Mrs. Maggots Meat 'N Mush Stew was born.

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Mrs. Maggots Meat 'N Mush Stew?” YOU MIGHT ASKFor the stew portion itself we're going to be using a hearty base, aiming for a layering of flavors. If you feel comfortable making a roux, feel free to do so, but I did not due to energy levels and thus the flour in this recipe is only used for searing the meat before its added to the pot.

Cubed beef

Flour

Peanut oil

Beef stock

Dried porcini mushrooms

Carrots, chopped

Onion, diced

Garlic, crushed

Scallion, chopped

Bay leaf

Salt and pepper

Ground red pepper

Cumin

Zatarins gumbo file

For the other mushrooms, were going to cook them separate and throw them in at the end (but they'll have friends to keep them company!!).

Cremini mushrooms, sliced

Half an onion

Carrots

Garlic

Salt and pepper

Thyme

Olive oil

This took about 4 hours in total. If you have a slow cooker itd probably be easier to use that, but as is isn't too bad either. I mostly worked on commission stuff in the kitchen in-between stirring. "The best food is the one you don't have to make, the second best food is the one you don't have to think while making."

AND, “what does Mrs. Maggots Meat 'N Mush Stew taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

HOT HOT HOT

Tastes like walking from the cold into the cramped but cozy bar your friend works at

Meat was so tender and juicy, melts in your mouth. Makes you cry

It wanst actually carmelization but the onions had a hint of tasting caramelized

Mushrooms- a strong umami flavor with a bit of smokeyness

Once you get that Perfect level of gumbo file, it just makes every other element stick out more

Like an energy booster for the ingredients

A spotlight on the bay leaf, and oils, and spices

. If you don't want to use beef, feel free to use vegetable stock instead and replace the cubes with strips of king oyster mushrooms. Exclude the flour but still cook them in the pan. . this isnt officially part of the recipe since im not sure itd be 'on theme', but feel free to start your rice cooker around the 3 hour mark so you can have some hot rice ready for serving as filler.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I was looking through food and food mentions in LotR, Mrs.Maggot just stook out to me. 'Queen amongst farmers wives' is both really sweet and a fuckin killer description. What a legend. I wanted to do something based on her and our two options were either beer, bacon or raw mushrooms. Beer while very appealing is also not something you can whip up in a day, while raw mushrooms have a chance of killing my beloved readers. I don't want to talk about me and bacons sordid past.

And so as praise to this funky farmer women, may you add this stew to your collection of potpie, lasagna, and roast recipes.

Did i mention i started my first grease fire when making this? Yeah. Don't cover any empty greased pan even if your intent is to keep water from splashing into it.

Anyway, this recipe is a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) The partner has already made me pledge to cook it again hehehe

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

2 lbs cubed beef

A little bit of flour to 'tumble' the meat in, in a bowl

Peanut oil to sear the beef, as needed

3 kilograms beef stock

28g dried porcini mushrooms

4 carrots, chopped

1 white onion, diced

4 cloves garlic, crushed

1 scallion branch, chopped

Salt and pepper to taste

Ground red pepper to taste

Cumin to taste

3 bay leafs

A pinch of Zatarins gumbo file

Ingredients… . . TWO:

1 lb cremini mushrooms

Half of a white onion, diced

1 carrot, chopped

2 cloves garlic, crushed

Salt, pepper, and thyme to taste

Olive oil as needed to pan-fry

Method:

Put the porcini mushrooms into a bowl, add enough warm water to cover. Give them roughly 20 minutes, or until softened and the waters turned color.

Cut the carrots, onion, and garlic.

Get a large pot with a lid, pour in your stock (or water and bouillon cubes). Pour in the porcinis and the mushroom water. Turn the burner to medium-high.

Add your bay leaves, carrots, onion, and garlic to the pot. Add extra salt if you'd like.

Tenderize and cut your beef into roughly 1 inch cubes.

In a small bowl, pour a handful of flour along with pepper, cumin, and ground red pepper. Mix until combined.

Lightly toss each cube of beef in the mixture, get a little coverage on each side.

Heat a frying pan to medium heat and add peanut oil. If using an electric stovetop it will take time to heat up.

Add some of your beef cubes to the pan, don't overcrowd it. Flip to check sides are a light brown with dark brown edges, its good for some pink/red to poke through.

Add beef cubes to the pot when done, careful of splashing.

Keep doing this in batches until all beef cubes are added. 

 Once the pot has reached a simmer, turn the heat down a few notches and cover.

Set a timer for 4 hours. Taste test every so often. Aim to stir the pot every 10-15 minutes.

(You can do steps 14-21 immediately or optionally wait a bit)

 Rinse and dry your cremini mushrooms.

Slice them vertically. Cut the carrots, onion, and garlic.

In a frying pan on medium-low heat, add olive oil, carrots, and onion. Keep the vegetables moving! When they start to change texture, add your cremini mushrooms.

Bring the pan up to medium heat. 

Once your mushrooms have cooked off the liquid inside, theyll start turning a deeper brown. Add the garlic. Keep! the! vegetables! Moving!

If the pan gets overcrowded, take some out and set it aside in a bowl. Smaller batches.

This process took roughly 15 minutes, but youll know its done once everything has a nice sear on it and the garlic is brown but not burnt. Add salt, pepper, and thyme to taste.

Set everything aside in a bowl.

Once the 4 hours are up the meat should be cooked all the way through and tender enough to pull apart. Strain the bay leaves out. Cut and add scallions. Add the bowl with cremini mushrooms.

Add a pinch of gumbo file to start, stir and taste test.

[chris-hallelujah]

HockeyPlayerBF!Chris who...

*Last one contains light smut MDNI

Word Count: 750

A/N: I've never done a head cannon before so we'll see if I do this right. Also, this was made with NHL/pro level aged Chris in mind.

Makes sure you always have something to wear on game days.

Your closet is essentially half full of Chris' hockey merch. Anything he gets is just as much yours as it is his. He makes sure you have anything you want from the pro shop. He comes home with something new for you almost once a week. Even though you aren't married yet, he loves seeing you in his hockey gear with his last name on it.

Is very aware of how passionate you are about hockey and him.

The referee blew the whistle and skated over to Chris calling a penalty. "Listen, kid, you gotta watch how you-" the ref started to explain.

"ARE YOU FUCKIN BLIND? HE DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH HIM!" You yelled from the bleachers. You had always loved hockey and were very passionate about sports, especially now that you were dating Chris and had some skin in the game.

Chris and the ref looked in your direction. "That your girlfriend?" he asked.

Chris chuckled, "Yes, sir, she gets very into the game." The ref laughed to himself and gave Chris a pat on the back.

"Good luck, kid."

Doesn't let his teammates talk about you.

Most of the guys on Chris' team were assholes. They had a great team bond, but they treated women like shit and often times passed around the same girl. Chris was different. You were different.

Chris walked into the locker room after the game. "Hey Chris, I saw y/n waiting outside! You think I got a shot?" one of his teammates teased.

Chris shoulder checked him, "Get fuckin' lost, that one's all mine."

Makes sure you have the best seat in the house

Your regular seat in the arena might as well have a plaque with your name on it. Chris had worked it out with the coach and box office that the same seat in the front row, lower bowl, middle of the ice was booked for you for every home game. He liked knowing where you were so he could catch glimpses at you as he played. This also made sure you had the best view to watch him play.

Was a bit needy during peak season.

Many nights a week consisted of you giving Chris a massage to help loosen up his sore muscles from a long practice or an aggressive game. You rubbed icy hot on the areas that needed extra TLC and you were happy to wrap up a sore ankle if needed.

Made sure people knew he was taken

Like most athletes, Chris' DMs were full of girls wanting a shot. It bothered you at first but you realized how much of an effort Chris made to let people know he was unavailable. Anytime Chris scored in a game, he immediately found you. If he had an extra second, he'd skate over and blow you a kiss through the glass, letting his hand linger so you could touch your hand to the other side. One time, after he scored the winning goal at a championship game, he threw his stick over the glass for you to catch. But, if there was a far away game or even if he just didn't have a second to break away after a goal, he'd make sure to catch the camera and blow a kiss or do a hand heart so you could see it wherever you were.

He also etched your initials with a heart into his stick and did a stripe of pink tape since it was your favorite color. He was obsessed with showing you off.

Let his game determine how sex would be that night

A winning game meant celebration in your house. After getting back from the bar, party, or however the team decided to celebrate, you and Chris had your own party in your bedroom. His favorite thing was to give you an orgasm for each point he scored that night.

"Come on, ma, I had a great game. You can take another, right?"

However, a bad game usually meant a cranky Chris needed somewhere to put his pent up energy. He'd bend you over whatever surface he decided. Sometimes the bed but usually a countertop. He would pound into you and pull your hair to keep you close to him. A sharp smack to your ass had you a mess and at his complete mercy. Of course you wanted him to do well, but maybe him losing wasn't too bad.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

WIP Wednesday

I have so many ideas for this OC, but none are cooperating with me.

Meet Bricks!

Simon notices, immediately, when the American girl enters the bar. First of all, she’s loud. Announces her arrival with a blast of laughter that rings through the room, for all that she’s surrounded by a group of rowdy people. Secondly, she’s dark-skinned, voluptuous, and seems to want everyone to know it. She’s dressed for the clubs more than a side street bar. Two guys she’s arrived with are obviously vying for her attention, but she floats over to one of the active pool tables and immediately starts flirting for the next game. Simon’s not immune to a soft woman with miles of leg, so he can’t blame any of them for welcoming her and her posse.

“Damn,” Kyle mutters, giving her an appreciative once over from his seat.

“What?” Johnny asks, looking over his shoulder like a fucking muppet. “Oh, damn.”

Price arches an eyebrow at Simon. “That good?” When he gets a nod, he turns to look. “…Damn.”

She has to know that everyone at the bar is looking at her, but she doesn’t seem to care. Just talks and laughs, flirts with the men and women around her like breathing. Simon never loses awareness of her. She’s in his sight line. But eventually, he’s integrated her into his awareness of the space. She’s a bright spot, but not rowdy enough to cause issues.

And then she passes their table on the way to the bathroom with her friends. She meets Simon’s eyes, gives him a quick up and down look, then winks with a little smirk as she disappears from view.

“What about you, LT?” Johnny’s voice breaks in.

Simon replays the conversation in his mind for a moment. Recruit performance. Lance Corporal Bennett. “Don’t much care for him. ‘S cocky and mean.”

“Good scores,” Kyle points out.

“He talks shit about the others,” Simon counters. “Good scores don’t mean shit if no one wants to work with him. We’ll see how he does with coordinated drills.”

“Now, Bakshi,” Price says, “he’s got promise. Scores are decent, and I can’t find a single person to say anything bad about him. Except Bennett.”

Johnny snorts. “Except Bennet.”

Simon lets the conversation fade away again. The pool tables are getting a bit rowdy without the American and her girl friends to dilute the testosterone. A couple of the boys over there are from the base, and they keep throwing glances over to the 141s table, and a table of other officers across the room. They’re keeping things cool. For now.

Just as chests are starting to puff enough that even Johnny and Kyle are paying attention, the girls reappear and diffuse the tension. The American says something that knocks the wind out of one boy’s sails and laughs as she takes his pool stick. She buzzes a kiss against his cheek, then playfully shoves another guy to rack. Just like that, the energy settles.

Simon lets himself be coaxed back into the discussion, especially now that the topics have strayed away from work. He can’t turn the hyper-vigilance off, but he likes going to the bar with his team. Likes talking books and TV shows with Price and mocking Johnny’s taste. He likes listening to Kyle talk music. He’s entering an artist’s name into his notes app, which is why he doesn’t notice the American strutting over until she’s right between Johnny and Kyle.

“Hey guys,” she says with a grin, leaning onto the table. “I thought about asking if any of you have a light, but my friends are leaving to get laid and the pool boys are boring. Can I hang out here until they lose interest? I’ll buy you a round.”

Price snorts into his whiskey. “They stop buying you drinks, then?”

“All they want to buy is drinks,” she laments, fluttering her eyelashes and pouting. “I’ve had three, but they’re not getting any more interesting. I’d rather have some fries and sit and chat.”

“Pull up a chair, bonnie lass,” Johnny says, which predictably gets the girl cooing over his accent.

She introduces herself as Ericka, an American student working on her Masters. She talks with her whole body, and doesn’t seem to know how to have a conversation without flirting. She hates the gym. She likes riding horseback, and winks at Simon when she mentions it. She “kind of pegged you guys as military. It’s the muscles.” She prefers whiskey over scotch, and her friends were supposed to take her clubbing tonight.

“But Tracy’s boyfriend hates going dancing, and she’s got a spine of a jellyfish,” she says, rolling her eyes. She’s waving a fry for emphasis. “So of course, we ended up here after I dressed up-up. Trust me, I know this is not a casual night at the pub type dress. I didn’t get the change of plans until the uber dropped us off out front. But I guess it turned out alright. I have no idea what kind of music I’d have been subjected to. Devon has shit taste, so I probably dodged a bullet.”

Even with as much as she’s batting her lashes and sending him interested glances, Ericka doesn’t try to make Simon talk more. With the rest of the table, she’s an excellent conversationalist. As he scans the bar again, he listens to her pick up the music topic with Kyle, drawing Price into a light hearted disagreement. Turns to Johnny with a pout for a tiebreaker. Which somehow gets them all into discussion of the best rock and roll genres. She talks, she listens, she engages. It’s refreshing. Most of the Americans they have to deal with are pushy and self-important officers and mercenaries.

Simon’s not above admitting that it helps that she’s beautiful.

After a couple of hours, it’s nearing 1am. Right on schedule, Kyle yawns. “Sorry, sorry. Not a night owl like some.”

“’S late,” Price admits. “Should probably head out. You have a ride home, Ericka?”

“Yeah, I’ll call a car,” she says, easily. “Thanks for hanging out with me, I’ll have to come back some time.”

“If we’re in town, we’re here,” Johnny says, grinning.

Outside, Erikca’s car gets delayed a couple of times, so Simon sends the boys ahead home and stays to wait with her. Price claps him on the shoulder and Johnny gives him an exaggerated wink. Ericka rolls her eyes and shoos them away when their car arrives.

“So,” she says, when it’s just the two of them. “Was I too subtle before, or are you interested in coming back to my place?”

“Barely spoke to you all night,” Simon points out.

“Come over and you can tell me about your tattoos,” she purrs. Then she smirks. “Or not. Up to you. But I figured I’d shoot my shot.”

[Super sexy sex happens here. Probably.]

Monday morning, Ghost sips a fresh brewed travel mug of tea and listens idly to Soap’s chatter on the way to one of the smaller briefing rooms. He’s looking forward to seeing Laswell, who’s on their side of the pond for a change. It’s always good for him to lay eyes on allies and confirm for himself that they’re alive.

It’s a shock, then, when he and Soap open the door to be greeted by Kate in deep discussion with Ericka.

Soap, of course, is more than happy to say what they’re both thinking. “What the fuck?”

When Ericka looks up and sees them, she grins. “Hey there, boys.”

Price and Gaz, when they arrive, are similarly gobsmacked. Once everyone is settled Lazwell stands.

“From your faces, you’ve all met,” she says. “So I won’t beat around the bush. Say hello to your new infiltration asset. Meet Bricks.”

All of them are speechless as Ericka lays four gray USB sticks on the table. They’re all the ones Price had distributed Thursday, with instructions that the keep one on them at all times. Plus an extra one. If Simon had to guess, Gaz was the one to have a decoy on him.

“Bullshite,” Soap says, pulling an identical USB stick from his pocket. “I’ve had mine on me the whole time.”

“Decoy,” Ericka, Bricks, says. “Slide the port out, you’ll see a pink dot.”

Simon pulls his from his pocket, pushes the little slider. Faded, but present, there’s a pink spot of permanent marker. “Fuck.”

“She’s one of the best infiltration assets we have,” Kate goes on. “She’ll be joining you to get information from Jacó Barboza. We have reason to believe he’s the link between Moscow and Rio, which opens the door to Bogotá.”

[emkayewrites]

Lukola fanfic scenario, Luke POV: Luke and Nicola are in the middle of filming Season 3, and Luke has just realised he is infatuated with Nicola. Only problem is he's in a relationship and so is she. During a short break from filming, he catches up with his parents, who have some sage bits of advice for him...

(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')

31st October 2022 – Salisbury (UK)

“Oh my God, it’s Colin from Bridgerton.” He heard their hissing whispers before he saw them.

Two young women stood at the entrance of The Bell and Crown pub, trying desperately to appear nonchalant.  They were wrapped up warmly in thick coats with hats and gloves and holding an array of shopping bags.

In a situation like this one, he had decided he would follow suit and pretend he did not notice them noticing.  He sensed this might be hard to achieve as they were partially blocking his way into the pub, but he did his best to try to manouevre past them with his head down.  The brunettes’ eyes widened at the realization that their paths were about to cross.  Luke watched as she nervously took a few steps back from him, the back of her legs hitting the giant ornamental pumpkin that was placed on the ground behind her.  She had barely let out a squeal as she started to tip backwards before he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, steadying her.

“Woah, careful.” He gave her what he hoped would be his most reassuring smile. 

Regardless, the colour drained from her face.

“Oh m-m-my God, I-I’m so sorry.” She sputtered.  She looked like she was going to be sick.

“We’re really big fans!” Her friend in the mustard-coloured coat behind her suddenly burst out, her eyes widened with excitement.

He was not sure how to receive their two very different energies.

“Thank you.” He replied, again hoping that he came across kind.

“So, you guys are filming up at Wilton House, right?” Mustard coat continued.  “We love it up there, it’s so gorgeous.  Are you guys there for the rest of the week? Oh, wait, you probably can’t say! Or wait, can you say? You probably can’t say what you’re filming though.”

“Yeah, we are. I’m sorry, I’m going in for some lunch.” He gestured to the inside of the pub.

“Oh! God! Look at me going on and on. Of course, of course.” Mustard coat shuffled away, pulling her friend away with her.

He knew the whirlwind of emotions that you could experience when you encountered someone famous, he had been the fan many, many times in his life.  He hoped he had never been the embarrassing fan though.  He had also been recognised before, but this was the first time in his life that he had found himself being recognised this often. 

In fact, just a few weeks ago, he and Jade had been drinking in a London bar when a group of girls had realised who he was and had encircled them.  The situation had turned incredibly awkward when they started talking about how hot he was and then one of the girls tried to give him her number.  It did not help matters that the girls were a group of European models celebrating their last night of work in the city.  He had watched Jade’s face go from mildly annoyed by the inconvenience to viscerally angry.  They had ended up cutting their night short and heading home; Jade had remained stoically silent the entire way.  It had worried him.  He knew she did not blame him for the reactions he was getting but he wondered how much she would be able to tolerate.  How much could any woman’s self-esteem tolerate seeing other women throw themselves at their partner?  He had reminded Jade that it had been public knowledge that he and Nicola were this season’s protagonist and ever since filming had started; fans of the show were constantly awestruck when they saw him or Nicola out anywhere.  The reactions were even bigger when the two of them were spotted out together.  He had hoped it would reassure her somewhat that this was the Bridgerton effect.  He felt a need to remind not just her but also himself that he was not the one changing, it was the situation.  He had not suddenly become hot, whatever that meant.

If things are like this now, what will it be like when the season’s out? He thought.  He could hardly fathom it.

He thought about the ways Nicola had reassured him about what was to come.  In her typical, unflappable way, she had told him it would be hilarious, and they would get through it together.  It was silly advice but because it came from her, he believed it. Those words had been keeping him grounded.  No matter what happened, she would be with him, and they would surely navigate it all together.

Now though, he felt as if that certainty was threatened.  He had been having dreams.  Then out of nowhere, Ezra had shown up.  He could feel deep in his bones that he was agitated about what Ezra’s presence in Nicola’s life meant more than anything else.  He also knew that was wrong.  This should not be occupying so much of his brain.  He was also aware that he was not very good at hiding how wound up he was feeling.  It was becoming apparent in his body language, and sometimes it was slipping through in what he said.  This was why he was so grateful for an afternoon away from everyone and everything, and to be around the two people who always helped him gain a sense of perspective.

He walked through The Bell and Crown, taking in its historical features that included wooden ship beams suspended from the ceiling and stone floors.  The smell of fried food and woodfire hit his nostrils as he spotted them seated at a mahogany table right at the back. 

“Mum, dad!” He greeted them with a small wave as he made his way to them, pulling off his jacket as he did so.

His parents were sat with an assortment of small plates before them and three glasses: one with water, one with wine and the other with beer.  His mother, Sharon, was a petite woman with short blonde hair that was scooped up into a ponytail with a fringe.  His father, Lee, sat opposite her; his sandy brown hair was covered by a dark red beanie hat. 

It was too easy. Luke thought, as he yanked the hat off his father’s head and took a seat next to his mother. 

 “Thank you!” Sharon exclaimed, putting her hands together in a praying gesture. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Lee looked from Luke to Sharon, and then back at Luke: “Do you want to sit here with a man with hat hair or a man with a hat?”

“It’s ungentlemanly to wear a hat indoors.” Sharon shook her head at her husband. “Just smooth it out.”

“Why aren’t you using that hair gel I got you for your birthday?” Luke added, amused.

There was no escapism like being around your parents and watching them bicker over the smallest things.

“I’m not using any ruddy hair gel!  I’m a fifty-nine-year-old man Luke, not a member of One Direction.” Lee snapped back, making Luke roar with laughter.

“We ordered for you.” Sharon nodded at the food in front of them. “We knew you wouldn’t have long before you would have to head back and service here is woefully slow.”

There was something to really love about the predictability that came with your parents’ habits when they reached a certain age.  He had all but compiled a bingo card in his mind of the things he knew were going to be coming up during this meal.  At the top of the list was his mother picking fault with the service in the pub – never mind that the pub was five-star reviewed.  His mother could make Gordon Ramsay look soft.

“Thanks mum, I do have to get back in about an hour.” He popped a fry into his mouth.

“How are you, my love?  You look a lot more tired than when we last saw you.” Sharon eyed him carefully.

“You do look a little rougher around the edges.” Lee added, some concern in his voice. “How many hours are you doing on set?”

Luke was appreciative of how much his parents cared for him.  Even though Lee was not his biological father, he had always treated Luke like a son – in fact, Luke was sure he was treated better than most sons were by their biological fathers.  Lee had also been in the entertainment industry and had taken great pains to ensure Luke was protected and well supported as he sought to make a career for himself.  Luke was sure that he would not have been half as successful if it had not been for Lee’s wisdom.

“The hours are fine; I’m just not sleeping too well.” Luke replied, surprising himself with his own admission. 

“It’s a lot to be carrying a whole season your back.” Lee said sympathetically.

“Well, how’s Nicola? She will be a good one to help you through.” Sharon advised, taking a sip from the wine glass.  “She’s done it all before with Derry Girls. Although I imagine this will be on an even grander scale…”

He had not wanted to talk about Nicola.  He knew that between Ezra and his dreams, the topic was too loaded for him.  He had wanted to come away for a nice meal with his parents to get a break from those thoughts.  Yet, talking about her and about him seemed irresistible to him. 

He could barely stop the words exploding out of his mouth. “Oh, I don’t think she’s losing sleep. She’s got a distraction right now.”

The words came with a little more emotion than he had intended them to.  His parents knew him too well not to pick up on it. 

“Oh really?” Sharon raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“She’s got this… guy friend who’s visiting and she’s all over him.” Luke stated, he hoped he sounded less bothered than he was.  He picked up his knife and fork and began to make a start on the giant battered cod that sat on his plate. 

“Guy friend?  Is that what you millennials call boyfriends?” His mother laughed.

“They’re not calling themselves that… yet.” Luke grimaced.

He caught the exchange of looks between his parents out of the corner of his eye.

“So, I take it you don’t like him then?” Lee asked.

Luke realised there was no one around that could judge him for his real opinions on the matter.  He had had to put on a mask on the Bridgerton set but around his parents, he could be honest.  He felt liberated.

“I just don’t get what she sees in him.” He replied. 

“Oooh, that is really tough.” Sharon made a face. “But she isn’t just your friend.  She’s also your scene partner, you can’t upset things at this stage of filming by saying anything too honest.”

“I know.” Luke felt the frustration rise again slightly. “Believe me.  I’m swallowing it.”

“Nicola’s got a good head on her shoulders.  He might not be as bad as you think.” His father shrugged, slicing into his steak and taking a bite. 

Luke shook his head emphatically at this.  “No, this guy is everything we would make fun of.”

“Well, matters of the heart aren’t always a straight line.” Sometimes, Lee doled out predictably vague dad wisdom.

“I don’t think you should be making fun of anyone.  It seems cruel.” Sharon added, wrinkling her nose as she frowned.  Sometimes she said predictably mum things.

Luke pulled out his phone and with a few swipes on the screen, he pulled up an Instagram page and held it up for them both to see.  “This is him.  LOOK at him.  Skinny jeans, v-neck white t-shirt that’s too small for his arms, standing in front of designer luggage with the caption CEO mode.  Am I going mad or is this man not a parody of himself?” 

Sharon threw her head back in laughter. “Oh God, yes, he’s quite something.”

“And Nic – she’s the opposite.” Luke continued.  “She’s down to earth, she’s not flash, she wears designer clothes but it’s tasteful, it’s not like this-”

“I’m sure she is the wonderful, thoughtful friend you know but she’s also a woman.” Sharon interrupted him.  She surveyed the photo on the screen with a smirk. “You know, as a woman, I get the appeal.”

Luke made a disgusted face and looked at Lee for some help in the matter. 

Lee stopped, his fork mid-air, and moved his face closer to the phone screen.  He eventually shrugged. “He's a fine specimen of a man.  Sorry, I’ve got eyes, Luke.”

“Ugh.” Luke groaned, taking his phone off the table.

“But hey, this is good, isn’t it?” His mothers’ eyes twinkle with realisation. “You can knead your concern for your friend into Colin’s concern for Penelope.  They are keeping the love triangle element?”

“You know I can’t say script specifics, mum.” Luke said dismissively.  He could feel the simmering annoyance that had now settled in.  He needed to change the topic.

Just then, Sharon reached forward for a napkin that was in the center of the table and her hand knocked her wine glass, causing it to tip onto the table and onto the sleeve of her cream cardigan. 

“Oh, Jesus!” She leapt up in her chair.  Luke grabbed at the remaining napkins and started to pad the table dry, and Lee started to get to his feet to assist.

“It’s alright Lee, I need to wash this out in the ladies.”  Sharon gestured for him to sit. “Thank God it was only a white wine.” She grabbed her handbag and walked away from the table.

Luke continued to dab at the table, which was now drier but also stickier.

“Word to the wise, focus on the girlfriend you’ve got.”  Lee’s voice interrupted him, making him stop. 

He fathers’ words took him slightly aback. 

Lee took in his reaction and continued: “Look, Nicola’s a very beautiful girl. It’s easily done.”

“I’m not… nothing’s being done.” Luke responded, but his voice cracked as he spoke.  He knew he was lying to himself and Lee by pretending not to know what his words meant. 

“It happens, you know.” Lee spoke calmly. “I saw it all the time. Feelings getting intensified and confused on a shoot like this.  I’m just saying, keep the work as work and don’t neglect your real life.”

Luke felt the weight of what was being said.  As always, Lee was able to read him better then he could read himself.  Yet, the feelings felt too raw to be exposed like this.  He could not rationalise them so he did what his instinct told him to: deny them.

“I’m not.” He repeated, firmer this time. “Nothing’s getting confused.  She’s my friend, I just don’t like the guy.”

“Well, then do a better job of it.” Lee’s voice was equally stern.

“Better job of it?” Luke was confused.

“Of acting like you’re not.” Lee shot back. “You know, acting? The thing you’re good at but seem to be completely unable to do when it comes to this.”

Luke felt himself getting flustered.  He knew he was having a hard time hiding his feelings but was he really being that obvious?  Before he could respond, Sharon had appeared behind him, and she was carrying what looked to be a mountain of paper towels.

“Jesus, did you leave some for the rest of the restaurant?” Lee exclaimed.

“Very funny.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “What are you two looking so serious about?”

“Plotting your Christmas present.” Lee spoke before Luke could.  That was the signal to say that particular conversation was over, and Luke could not feel more grateful.  It was hard enough denying those thoughts and feelings to his father, let alone his mother.

“Oh, I already said I don’t want a big fuss.” Sharon sighed. “Don’t you dare let him make a fuss, Luke.”

“Well, I don’t control the man, mum.  I’ve already got him to downsize the gift from a trip to the Maldives.” Luke teased.

“The Maldives?” Sharon gasped.

Difficult as it was, Luke tried to enjoy the distraction of winding his mother up for the rest of the lunch hour.

[luneariaa]

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢. ( 𝐚𝐮 )

❥︎ - ; x fem! reader

❥︎ - 𝐭𝐰 : nanami might be ooc, you both are agents, mentions of alcohol drinking at a private bar but not overly specific. no romance, but more into how i imagined you both meeting each other for the first time.

❥︎ - 𝐚/𝐧 : was listening to some songs by lana and randomly got inspired at 2 a.m.. i might make more of these if i wish to.

☾︎ - 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

-✰-

"You must be Sir Nanami. Pleased to finally meet you; I was assigned to partner up with you for our upcoming missions and further."

You begin to introduce yourself briefly upon arrival at the private bar, the place where you were asked to meet up with him by your current boss. Your hair is styled beautifully, yet neatly in a classic type of bun-- along with a rather casual, yet presentable suit outfit.

The man before you is quite handsome, tall and blonde. He definitely possesses a certain charm to him.

"Ah, evening, miss (L/N)." Nanami acknowledges your arrival by the moment you approached him, taking in your overall appearance and beauty. "It's a pleasure, indeed. I was told beforehand."

He extends his hand out for a formal handshake, to which you returned the gesture with such ease. His whole demeanor truly radiates professionalism; a strong, gentlemanly aura, even.

"I'm sure that we'll make a good team on our missions together."

To which you earned a small smile from him while you took a seat next to him on the reserved, vacant chair.

After ordering your desired drinks at the bartender, a short silence surrounds you two, causing you to observe his side profile for a while.

Oh, this man-- surely, countless women or men alike would be swooning over him. Even more so, the reputation that he currently holds.

"I've got to say; you somehow give off some serious lady energy. One that means business, strictly."

Nanami was the first to break the stillness around the air, chuckling slightly. While doing so, he adjusted the glasses that were settled on the bridge of his nose.

He even mentally thought that you look quite gorgeous. "In a good way, that is."

"Oh really?"

You momentarily caught yourself off guard, but you were able to pull yourself together with a tiny smirk on your face and a head resting on your now-upended palm. "How so?"

He sends a brief glance though. "Let's just say, they've told me good things about you-- your record in general. And I must say, I'm impressed."

"Huh, I see." A short laugh was elicited from you, shifting your gaze at the bartender who's starting to pour drinks for two.

"I'm flattered actually. Likewise, sir."

You half-jokingly stated, bringing one cup closer to you as you looked into the drink for a bit. You just ordered a light one, since you can't possibly risk yourself and gotta stay sober at least.

"Just call me Kento, if you wish." He smirks slightly, while his mannerism changes a little as well. It's more casual and relaxed in a way that's quite easy to miss. Slowly, he's getting comfortable.

You merely chuckled, yet didn't say anything for now other than a small nod.

"Well," he begins shortly after, raising his own glass close to yours. "Shall we drink now?"

You agreed, letting your glass clink against his own lightly.

"To us."

The two of you finally took several sips from your drinks with no problems as for now. Everything seemed to be going in the right direction so far.

-✰-

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

legend of ruby sunday let's gooo

TWO SHADES OF RED

ruby is so overhwelmed bless her lol

hOWS YOUR UNCLE. YOU SEXY BITCH SDKLFJ HOW YOU THINK!!!!??

they are making unit too quirky for them not to become a spin off lol

15 WILL flirt with your staff kate and you WILL endure it

screaming the clip was just the first clip. whats gonna happen

"Even I got that" SDKJ THE META

IS THAT SIGNIFICANT"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ya'll are so self-conceited. millions of people are called susana. / i say this while vibrating at the rate of a neutrino star

"susan IS the name of my grandaughter" NOT WAS. IS !!!!

"we'll get him" is that a musk ref. rtd, musk is not a genius lol

"but what for" asking the tough questions

(also regeneration as a disguise…. what a good idea)

JUST DONT GO CHANGING YOURS OOK

"cant we just pipe in a bit of applause " the meta……..

mel pulling a 73!yards ruby

"we have another mystery woman" "ruby sundayyyyyyyyyyy" "you could've warned me" wtf i love tem. i love this. absolute bonkers vibes for a finale. (the horrors will start at any second)

ruby/rose flirting…….. ?? :eyes emoji:

doctor who wasMEANT to have a bunch of middle aged / old

women characters

stsly i love this energy "I love devina" amazing.

"you love to break the rules" she knows her uncle so well

WE CAN SHARPEN THE IMAGE. ENHANCE!!!

im enjoying how the fantasy / scifi plot mystery is tied to this very real personal thing for ruby.

ruby rose holding hands………………. im seeing.

"they never give me proper work" gee i wonder why rose!!! you think your mom wants you out there doing torchwood style suicide missions. cmon.

"he was a postman. she was a dinner lady" hmm

MEL IN HER LIL' ORANGE SCOOTER. OBSESSED!!!!!!!!

CARLA ON ACTION!!!!!!!!! GO GO GO

go get miss flood??????? A???????????

IM ALWAYS HIDING MYSELF AWAY

dont leave it to her oh my god. rip cherry.

(btw god bless. the hallway crack from the christmas special is still there lol)

ms flood nailing the old relative backhanded compliment

IT'S ABOUT TIME I CAUSE TROUBLE FOR MYSELF

HE WAITS NO MORE!!!!!!!!!!!

NOT QUITE. NOT YET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

im vibrating so much

oof this is so good. this is so TRUE. "you need roots of your own not a senile old man" updated to "i bring disaster"" aggg

15 is so healthy guys. so healthy

"what if you just said hello to her face?" i cant believe this is happening ya'll. russel really said "the five doctors was BULLSHIT. im gonna fix-it fix this shit" and went and did it. icon

ill have some of that <3 !!!! (lol thats right kate. he'll never trust u like them!!! deal with it)

a phoenix is just a bird until it burns… awesome. what the fuck does that mean

thats right stammer. you're barred from unit. motherfucker 15 is so rude. love him

MANCHESTER MOMENT

MASSIVE INFORMATION FROM THE VHS. I LOVE THIS ABSOLUTE NONESENSE.

ooo the music did a little thing. hold on to your butts babes we about to get DRAMA

unit has better toys. but are they competentent? LOL

clara and the leaf energy tbh (complimentary)

(oh is ruby susan's daughter therefore 15' daughter????) love the snow thing tbh . rtd was like im about to give dw fanartists an easy motif to add to their art for years. thanks king "time has tides and hollows and secrets"

(this transition effect………. very pertwee era intro….. :eyes emoji:) memory is time!!!!

"you cant move" omg impossible mission moment. fathers day moment. 15/ruby dont know how to step moment!!!!!!!!!!!

this is rtd's thought process lol "time … memory… ah shit.. MEMORY TIME MACHINE THERE WE GO"

damn carla and ruby got me here.

"my memory of this keeps changing"

rip chipzode probably

T.T rubes

what the actual fuclk

Close the window!!!!

when is that thing, inspector spacetime???????

it's the beast!! (carla dont name the undefined thing on the "everything becomes what you name it season" o h my gOD)

I AM IN HELL

im loving the coloring/lighting in this episode. everyone looks very sharp and nice

"i bring disaster" hehe

finally some good fucking [kate vs doctor antagonism]

15 frustrated because he finally has to come back from buying the cigarattes/ bread

"FINISHED? STOP GRIZZLING AND FIX IT". mel!!!!!!!!!!!!! thats

mel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love you mel!!!!!!!!!!!!

rtd said im gonna write a season that is SO self referential. thank u

for writting this show for the weirdos only. (We might run out of disney money tomorrow but TODAY we relish)

brigadier picture!!!

missing episodes restoration commentary? lol (if i was rtd i would have named harriet ms. bachel color)

"i'd remember a handsome chap like you" um. let's no go there!!! thanks

i told u doc u absolute anxious nerd. there's millions of susans!!! (not convinced this isnt anything yet)

the music is doing things

"being an ambulance?" mel u have always been in doccy who. catch up!!!

reverse the polarity of the VHS

(ALSO very 00's/90's "therre's something hiding in the music if u play it backwards Zeitgeist ("Blink"'s dvd easter egg realness))

donna this is all ebcause you had to go and spill that damn coffee. chodizee's blood is on YOUR hands

leave the tardis alone… "then they get wise, and they try to destroy it"

"thank you, and i love you, and good bye" aaaaaaaaa

our tecnology spreads lies and fraud!!! im gonna count that as aBINGO. taking my prize in cash beebs. thank!!!

"you do not question, you move" ummmmm

master? rogue? valeyyard? rassilon? omega? suttek? omega??? rani?? ???

harriet arbingers. rip.

A DREAM OF A WORLD WITH ORANGE SKIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lol love this. going over the theories

THE MARA MENTION!!! TEGAN NATIO N WE R I S E

suketh!!!!!! well there it is lol (damn wish i had rewatch Pyramids so i could be more excited about this dklfjsdklfjdskldfs) (also def saw ppl on reddit calling that "second anagram" ou t sdklfjsd)

"did you think i was family, doctor?" rude.

CONCLUSIONS!!!

tbh this had a looooot of good character moments but i think it was mostly a "putting the chessboard pieces in place" episode. still tho damn, those characters moments. highlighting carla/ruby giving me emotions, sutekh/doctor taunting, doctor/kate antagonism MY BELOVED, ruby/rose (best ship name?????), doctor/mel!!!!!!!!!!!!!! being everything!!!!, doctor finally dealing with the susan of it all!!!! (ilu for this rtd). doctor/ruby being super cute and queer before experiencing THE HORRORS, idk how i feel about the reveal since tbh i didnt care much for that serial sdlfkjsdfds but hey. anyway excited for next week. tv show reveal def coming for the second-act-reversal !!!!!/is a hopeless case ALSO enjoyed the filming of this as well (snow! vhs effect!!!) and this is def the most interesting UNIT has ever been lol

[redriotingfornoreason]

If Smoker One Piece had a Wife

It is currently six in the morning and my friend and I have spent the past several hours making head cannons for Smoker from One Piece if he had a wife. We do not know why we did this, but I'd like to share some of the results (if you want more than this ask). We are not sure how in character this is (we just finished Alabasta, and also sleep deprived), but it felt right. Enjoy.

She would probably have black hair (maybe he has a thing for black hair chicks idk)

Probably long too (he likes to braid it)

Hates the smoking because it’s bad for his health and she loves him so so much :)

Works as a waitress (she wants to feel like she’s helping be a breadwinner or something)

Probably like 5’9 (he needs a taller girl, feels like he will accidentally break her)

Gets jealous about the time he spends at sea (especially with other women)

Makes him wear an “I Fucking Love My Wife” t shirt at one point to make herself feel better (he did not have a choice)

Really bubbly personality (kind of like golden retriever energy, but maybe chihuahua since Smoker is so much taller.)

Also an ankle biter

Met her at a bar when he was younger and in the lower ranks of the marines. At first was intrigued by mystique and stoicism of him. Later found him passed out under a table after drunkenly singing at the karaoke bar.

He was not able to say where he was from or where he lived so she dragged him back to her house for the night because she refused to spend another night in that bar longer than she had to.

When he woke up, had no clue where he was or who she was and got yelled at because “Fuck you for keeping me at the bar that late, you were heavy as shit and I had to drag your ass three miles.”

Felt bad but not really, ended up taking her out as an apology (she forced him to)

On their first date, he had no expectations and was not planning to see her again but then she beat up a waiter who was trying to hit on her (definitely bit his ankle at one point)

Smoker was infatuated with this woman and decided “You know what, screw it. This one.”

Actually ended up finding other things to like about her (genuinely sweet in her own weird up way) Also did not give two shits about his job. Aggressive about her love for him (in a non-threatening way)

We have a lot more than this (like four pages) so lmk if anyone wants to see more.

[madi2112]

Madi's Meanderings vol 40

The Big Easy day 3

Had an early in the day tour of the B.K. House which I had unknowingly passed the night before on the Ghost tour of New Orleans.

It sits right across the street from the place where the vampires in New Orleans folklore originated and around the corner from the LaLaurie House (see yesterday's post)

This house was not haunted. At least it's not advertised as such.

But being it's long history, architecture and decorating it certainly gives off the vibe in spots.

The longtime residence of Francis Parkinson Keyes, who authored 51 books, the house was fascinating and interesting to learn about.

This particular painting has a great backstory:

The painting was discovered by Mrs Keyes on a trip across Europe. Done by a local artist it shows his daughter seated by a lake with a dreamy look on her face. Peaceful and contemplative it's a beautiful and delicate painting.

She immediately wanted to purchase it from the artist.

However, he refused to sell it to her.

She continued to relentlessly hound him and finally a few months later he agreed to sell it.

He did make one change though. Not wanting his daughters image in a strangers home he painted over his daughters face and painted Mrs. Keyes' instead.

Photoshopped before photoshopping existed.

The gardens to the side of the house were also quite beautiful as well.

One of the best things about the tour was the guide. She was knowledgeable. Funny and genuine in her love for the house.

We had to grab a selfie at the end!

A much more enjoyable tour then the previous night.

After another break in the day rest, it was time to stretch my comfort zone for tonight's event.

<><><><><>

I don't go out often to bars, clubs or anything even close.

If at all.

Ever.

So in an effort to push myself a little I decided that I need to break that pattern.

But it had to be just the right place for just the right reason.

Someplace where I felt safe, accepted and welcomed and had a good show (or band) to watch.

I found that perfect combination during this trip.

So I booked a ticket online for definitely something new for me.

Yes, you read that correctly, a Sapphic Speakeasy burlesque show.

And all I can say is just....

Wow!

I had to drive over to the location called The AllWays Lounge as a passing rainstorm made walking a no go.

The lounge itself was comfortable, had a friendly feel and was welcoming to all.

As a translesbian I never felt threatened, never felt stared at (except for my height), never felt awkward or out of place.

The place was crowded with all ages and types of lesbians and it was so nice!

I got more then a few compliments on my dress (a various shades of blue and white summer dress) and even struck up conversations with a few women.

I even had a couple of glasses of white wine. Something I never do.

The burlesque show was fun, naughty and energetic. The host was funny, kept things moving and ran the evening well.

They had all sorts of dancers. Dancers of all sizes, types, and all women. No drag performances.

The energy of the crowd was off the hook. The cheering, the hooping and yelling and shouts of raucous sexy approval was deafeningly loud at times.

This was the first time this very inclusive LGBTQIA+ lounge has done this type of show and it was a huge success. Another one is already set for September.

There were all ages of lesbians. Some lesbian couples some featuring masculine and femme women.

Lots of single attractive lesbian women. I remember one very tall gorgeous blonde (just shy of my height) who hung out towards the back of the room, as us tall people do. If only I was 35 years younger....

I wanted to take more pictures but felt it was intrusive and out of place. But after the performers came out and encourages photos I felt ok doing so.

I took one of the group and ones of my favorites of the evening.

I was incredibly nervous at first but the vibe of the place put me at ease quickly.

The wine didn't hurt either.

If I every make it back here to New Orleans this place is a must visit.

To bad nothing like this exsists in Orlando....

~ Madison

[icrypop]

For a Moment

Chapter 1: A Night to Remember

Dawn's POV

The hum of voices and clinking glasses filled the restaurant, a small, cozy place I’d practically grown up in thanks to Tommy. Tonight, though, felt different. There was a buzz in the air, an energy I couldn’t quite explain.

I leaned against the bar, arms crossed, watching my brother like a hawk as he chatted with a couple of his bandmates. “So, what’s the deal with this guy?” I asked, nudging Tommy’s arm.

“Relax, Dawn. Frankie’s got pipes, trust me,” Tommy replied with a smirk, not even glancing my way.

“That’s what you said about the last guy, and he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket,” I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Tommy finally turned to look at me, his smirk shifting into something closer to annoyance. “You’ll see. Just… stick around, alright?”

I huffed, but curiosity got the better of me, so I stayed put, nursing a soda and watching as Tommy waved Frankie over.

When Frankie stepped up to the stage, the crowd quieted. He was smaller than I expected, with this boyish charm that made him seem almost out of place among the seasoned musicians Tommy usually ran with. But there was something about the way he carried himself—nervous but confident, like he had a secret he was dying to share.

Tommy grabbed the mic first, his grin wide and easy. “Alright, folks, we got a treat for ya tonight. Frankie here’s gonna show ya what he’s got!”

The crowd clapped politely, and I could see Frankie shift on his feet, adjusting the mic stand. Then he started singing.

“I can't give you anything but love, baby…”

The room transformed. His voice wasn’t just good—it was *magical*. Smooth, velvety, with a touch of vulnerability that made you lean in, made you *want* to listen.

I watched as the women in the crowd melted—leaning forward, whispering to each other, their eyes sparkling. But while they fell in love with Frankie Valli, the heartthrob, I was drawn to something deeper. The way he sang felt personal, like he was sharing a piece of himself with everyone in the room.

I found myself gripping the edge of my seat, hanging on every note.

"Alright so the kid can sing,” I muttered, not tearing my eyes away from the stage.

By the time Frankie hit the last note, the room erupted in applause. He ducked his head, a shy smile on his face, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration.

Tommy leaned closer, a sly grin playing on his lips. “What’d I tell ya, huh? Kid’s gonna be a star.”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy watching Frankie step off the stage with his shy smile, already wondering how someone so small could fill a room like that.

————————————————————————

Now, of course, the usual problem came up with the crashed car in the jewlery shop with a giant safe came along and Frankie got blamed.

But he was loyal to Tommy, holding his own until that court date that landed Tommy 6 months in jail.

Now, Tommy being in jail wasn’t exactly new territory, but this time it felt different. Six months was a long time, even for him. And while I could’ve used the break from his constant scheming, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was counting on me to keep an eye on Frankie.

Frankie was good—too good to waste his time sneaking around town, crooning to impress every girl who batted her lashes at him. He had potential, but if he didn’t take himself seriously, he was going to get nowhere fast.

I spotted him one afternoon, leaning against the side of a diner, serenading a small group of girls with that same song he’d sung at the restaurant. “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love.” It was sweet, sure, but I could see right through him—the way he tilted his head just so, smiling at their giggles. He was eating it up.

“Seriously, Frankie?” I called, crossing my arms as I walked up to him.

The girls looked at me like I’d interrupted the second coming, but Frankie just grinned, finishing the last note before lowering his voice. “Hey, Dawn. What’s the matter? Jealous?”

“Jealous of what? A guy who’s got a fan club but no direction? Please.” I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched, betraying the smallest smile.

“Direction?” He scoffed, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You sound like my old teacher.”

“Yeah, well, she was probably right,” I shot back. “If you keep wasting your time with these sidewalk performances, you’re never going to get anywhere.”

The girls murmured their disapproval, but Frankie waved them off. “Go on, girls. We’ll pick this up later.”

Once we were alone, he turned to me, his grin softening into something closer to curiosity. “You really think I’m wasting my time?”

I sighed, shaking my head. “You’ve got talent, Frankie. Real talent. But if you don’t take it seriously, no one else will.”

“Alright,” he said, tilting his head playfully. “What do you suggest, Coach?”

I ignored the sarcasm and straightened my posture. “First of all, stop singing the same song to every girl who’ll listen. Show some range. Second, work on your stage presence. You’ve got a good voice, but you fidget like you’re afraid someone’s going to throw a tomato at you.”

“Tomatoes, huh?” His lips quirked, and he leaned closer, his tone teasing. “What, you gonna start chucking them if I mess up?”

I gave him a light shove, unable to hold back a laugh. “Maybe I will, if it gets you to focus.”

From that day on, we had this strange rhythm. Whenever we crossed paths—at the diner, the grocery store, even on the street—he’d have some new line, half flirty, half sassy, and I’d throw it right back at him.

“Dawn,” he’d call out one afternoon, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Wanna hear a new one? I’ve been practicing.”

“Not if it’s another love song,” I’d reply, pretending to groan.

“It’s jazz!” he’d counter, flashing that boyish grin that somehow made it hard to stay mad.

Frankie had a way of getting under my skin, but I couldn’t deny he was improving. Little by little, his voice grew stronger, his confidence steadier. And while I still wanted to strangle him every time he flirted his way through a practice session, I couldn’t help but feel proud.

Tommy might’ve been the one who brought him into the fold, but I was the one keeping him on track. For now, at least.

After Nick landed himself in jail after Frankie's little rendezvous with a lady in a church, that left me to carry the boys heavy work until Tommy came home.

Frankie and I had already spent a bit of time together...not bonding though. It was more like teaching and slightly insulting him to step it up.

When Tommy came home though, I was off the hook and back into sidelines... Watching the miss Mary Delgado find a special spot in Frankie's heart.

[ryansanim-e-tionblog]

Sailor Moon Blog

This was the first time that I watched Sailor Moon and I noticed that the fights were a bit repetitive. Usagi would be told by Luna to stop some villain who wants to steal human energy and the story would follow the same plot to the end. Minor gripes aside, I am going to discuss Sailor Moon with the lens of Girl Power.

We begin with the fourteen year old Usagi Tsukino, who is shown as a regular student who is struggling in class. In a turn of events, she meets Luna, a magical cat, who tells Usagi of her destiny as the legendary warrior Sailor Moon and that she must protect the Galaxy. In the first episode, Usagi has to fight against a monster who pretended to be Naru's mother who attempted to steal people's energy with fake jewels. We see how Usagi represents Girl Power because she flips the valuations. Using the powers that Luna gives her, she is able to make feminine things like her tiara into an object of power that she uses to defeat the imposter. Objects which would normally be sources of disempowerment have become sources of empowerment. While some second wave feminists would disagree because these objects of disempowerment and girlishness are defined and represented by the patriarchy, it fails to break that concept.

In the second episode, I noticed something that was a bit strange. When Umino was brainwashed and flipped his teachers dress, she broke out in tears over the fact that she would never get married as if this one event were to bar her from marriage. After a search, I saw that it followed the "Defiled Forever" trope, which seems to be a more patriarchal construct in a show about Girl Power. This is a concept that historically people have believed but is changing in many cultures. I assume it is a nod to the fact that such ideas still exist in today's world.

The fourth episode follows the concept that after Usagi has gained weight, that she must lose the weight to become pretty again. She even thinks that she must stop eating entirely, which is definitely not a healthy mindset. This, however, continues with the concept of Girl Power as her parents said that it does not matter whether Usagi has put on a few pounds or not. The villains scheme to trick women into a get fit quick plan was foiled and all was well. This episode somewhat used the first method to write against the patriarchy in that it "exposed injustices" with the villain using the scheme to steal the girls' energy.

Overall, I think that Sailor Moon relates to me because I need to consider what is considered the norm in society and find reasons to either follow or disagree with these norms. It got me to consider gender norms and how we can work against them.

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1989 Sure enough, Margaret turned out to be not quite as ugly as Mary or Linda, but she wasn’t too much prettier, either. A definite butch, too. She had nice teeth and ok eyes, but her hair was disgusting.

She was very hyper and nervous, and I feel bad for her cuz she really did mean well. She is very friendly and honest and she just wants to settle down with someone and love them and be loved in return. I think she’d be good for someone and would never hurt them but I’m fucking sick and tired of getting all the ugly ones! Why me, huh?!?! Am I that ugly myself?

I give up. I hate bars, and it just wasn’t meant to be. At age 23, if you’ve never been loved by someone decent and attractive, then it’s never gonna happen. Even if I got someone fairly decent, they’re still always ugly. Does God consider it a sin for me to be touched by someone I’m sexually turned on by? Does He also feel that I should think that looks aren’t everything? They aren’t, but what good is having a decent and compatible lover who’s so ugly?

Well, to change the subject, I’m not going to Gloria’s concert tonight cuz Phil had some financial problems where he needed money for his business.

I want to call Florida where Estefan Enterprises are to see if I can get a tour book.

I can’t wait till I leave this Saturday. I really need a break cuz I’ve been feeling like complete shit both physically and emotionally. Hopefully, this vacation will revive me till I have to come back to my boring life. Since I can’t work, and have nothing to do, especially with Andy working 3rd shift and sleeping in the daytime, and since I can’t be with anyone, I’m going crazy.

Tammy wants me to move down with her and I really think I will cuz I’m losing my energy. I have no motivation to do my music or to do anything really and I won’t even mention my sleeping and eating habits. I need my family now for sure.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1989 The morning before yesterday at around 10:00, I got this call from a girl named Margaret. I was tempted to hang up on her at first, but we ended up talking for over two hours. By now we’ve talked on the phone for a total of 6 hours. She seems very, very friendly and honest, despises drugs and wants to settle down with someone the right way with no lies or cheating and she thinks along the same lines as I do. Everything I want, like, don’t want or don’t like she agrees with.

The only thing that bugs me a little is that her accent is like Mary D and she’s from Westerly, Rhode Island, but that’s minor as long as she’s Miss Right and is attractive, but that’s my biggest fear right there. Is God ever gonna allow me someone attractive, even if they’re right for me? No way!

I mean, she sounds far from ugly and is definitely gonna be many steps prettier than Mary or Linda, but she tells me she’s not feminine and doesn’t wear makeup, earrings or skirts and dresses. There have been some women who were in between butch and feminine that I found attractive but not many.

Well, maybe God will bend the rules this time, but I doubt it. I am gonna be honest with her if she doesn’t turn me on sexually which I think will devastate her from the way she sounds. I mean, inside she seems all I’ve ever wanted, but outside I just know there won’t be any physical attraction.

Oh God, please change the rules and let me be attracted to her! Please!!

She’s gonna be here tomorrow at around 10:00 after a 2-hour drive.

She has a good-paying job and makes good money which I’d never use her for, likes the same kind of activities, loves to cook, says she’ll be behind my music career 100% of the way, wants to get married someday, and possibly a child, weighs 120, is 5’ 6”, but her hairstyle kind of sounds like that of a butch. She says it’s getting long and is going to continue to let it grow, and all of this is great, but I just hope to God I’m as attracted to her as she’ll no doubt be to me.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1989 To finish my story of what happened when I called that number to try to get to know other women, I learned that most of them were just out for sex just like men. Today there is no such thing as love. The thing today is strictly sex. Two people gave me the wrong number, one was supposed to be here last Thursday at 7:30 and never showed up, one left a message on my machine saying she’d call me back but never did, one called to leave a message and never returned my call, some guys called me about threesomes with their wives, and 3 different times while I was in the middle of talking to either boring women or women just wanting sex, the line was disconnected and I know they didn’t hang up. It was more like a case of divine intervention.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1989 At 2:00 this afternoon, I have to meet with Eric (Mr. Attitude) about re-enrolling for next semester which isn’t till next Feb., but better later than never again. I had to drop out cuz of bronchitis at my doctor’s advice and he gave me a note, although for the last 3 days, I’ve been feeling better. My nose and chest had been driving me crazy for so long and still do if I smoke too much or strong cigarettes like Marlboro. My new doctor, Dr. McGovern, is a super nice guy with a great sense of humor and really is trying to help. The only thing, though, is that the antibiotic the ER gave me never worked. Then Dr. McGovern tried two more things that also never worked. One of them made me puke, but as long as I go easy on the ciggies, it is considerably better. I just don’t have what it takes to quit yet, but if I did it would certainly help 100%. I will someday. I still don’t know if I need shots. I doubt it. One thing I do know for sure from when they did the preliminary allergy testing is that I am allergic to cat, dog and horse dander as well as dust, mold and dust mites, but I’ve known that since I was a very young kid.

Later…

I got restless cuz I had run out of ciggies and was dying for one, so finally, at around 4:00, Steve got home from his job at Westover Air Force Base and gave me some. He’s the black guy living across the hall.

I left a message on the school’s machine for Eric to get back to me about rescheduling our appointment cuz by 2:00 I’ll have been up 24 hours and need to sleep.

If Andy doesn’t go to school in February with me, although I really think he wants to go if our classes aren’t scheduled around the same time, then I’ll have to go elsewhere. It’d be nice to get someone who goes to homes cuz here I have my keyboard and all my tapes, but I doubt it. Guitar or piano lessons are one thing but I’m quite sure voice teachers don’t go to people’s homes. Especially the good ones. Also, no matter where else I go, or if someone comes to me, it’ll cost me a fortune. Voice lessons just aren’t cheap, but what is?

Andy should be home in the next half-hour. Then I can tell him I’m going to Florida from December 2nd to the 9th, and also that Philip and his new girlfriend Maria, are taking me to see Gloria on Nov. 29th at the Hartford Civic Center. That’s my Hanukkah gift, and a leather mini skirt is supposed to be my b-day gift. He says he’s gonna take some pictures of me since I have no recent ones of me and that I’ve never looked better in my life. I’m a perfect 10 from head to toe except for my being slightly bow-legged, my crooked teeth and a few zits. I break out before my period.

I leave on December 2nd at 1pm on flight 777. Philip’s gonna take me to the airport. When I return on December 9th on flight 570 at 9:25, Marty and Ruth are gonna pick me up. Phil’s gonna call the airport in advance to make sure the plane didn’t get canceled like the last time.

I’m looking forward to having a good time with my parents and I really think I will this time. We’ve had a lot of talks and have gotten along much better for a while now. For the first time in my life, I can honestly say that Mom, Dad, and Tammy really see that I can sing and the talents I have achieved instrumentally, too. I sang for my sister on the phone and she was shocked. It was the first time since Thanksgiving of last year that she heard me. She’s been so supportive of it and really wants me to move down still and be with her, and she wants to help me with my singing and to find someone and it’s not a bribe. She really means it or else she’d be the last person to suggest it or get involved in any way.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 1989 Well, once again I seem to have been severely punished by God or something, but I knew it would happen, I asked for it and I’ve paid the consequences. It all comes down to trying to find love and romance again. And for once I’m not the least bit upset by what I’m about to write about cuz like I said, I expected it all the while knowing damn well that you cannot fight God and what’s in the cards for you. I’ve known since the day I was born that my sole destiny in life was to be a singer. Not everyone can have their cake and eat it, too. Some things are meant to be for some people and some things aren’t. Besides, you can’t mix love with the music business as demanding as it is. Especially with the fact that most people are jealous of musically talented people, and they feel like you’re superior to them, so they feel threatened by you and they run. Also, people are scared of people who are attractive cuz they fear they’ll lose you to other people.

What happened was that I called this number in which you leave a message about yourself for other gay women. You can also leave messages to men or a man can leave a message to either another man or a woman. I was supposed to meet this girl named Amy tonight here at 7:30, but she never showed up, then at around 9:00, I went to return a phone call to someone named Cathy and the number was out of service, so I know for sure what God’s been trying to tell me. To either be alone or be with a man.

[itsthebethblogever]

Water fasting: why, when, and how?

Though I am no nutritionalist, I have compiled just a quick outline of what my water fast consisted of as well as some of the reasonings behind doing it, and the aftercare. I was inspired to do a water fast after hearing many female friends of mine talk about how much they loved it - how they felt their most creative and energetic, some even claiming to feel an euphoric high. During my Vision Quest back in October 2023, I also did a 3 day water fast; however, that felt different, as I was less focused on the health effects and more on the spiritual side. As I remember the lack of eating being way easier than I thought, I was hopeful that doing it again would prove to be the same result. Spoiler alert: it totally was.

Why?

To give my body a break to allow itself to clean and purify itself. Our body begins to burn white fat into brown fat, stem cell growth is stimulated, our dopamine system gets a reset, diseased cells get a chance to be flushed out while white blood cells increase and have time to do their reparative work.

Ancestrally, when we would go on a hunt, this is a period where we would not be eating. This would allow us to be lighter, more agile, and put us into a more focused state. Then, in the spiritual sense, it gives us more space to dedicate our energy towards something else. Cultures and religions worldwide practice fasting for various reasons - Yom Kippur, for example, is the Jewish day of atoning for our sins. Growing up, the decision to fast was always optional (and then encouraged after you had your bar/bat mitzvah (age 13 for boys and in some communities, age 12 for girls). After I had my Bat Mitzvah, I chose to fast as I wanted to be a part of what the community was doing. This day was spent home from school and usually doing homework with my friends at temple while services were going on. Because of this, I know doing a 24 hour fast is totally doable, and many people report the first 24 hours is the hardest. I can attest that to be true - this is the first day where you wake up and think “aw man, my stomach just grumbled and I can’t do anything about it”. This is when you reach for some water, use that to fill yourself up, and find something else to do to distract yourself.

When?

After my bleed, before ovulation. Can also be done after ovulation as long as it’s finished before bleed time. When I don’t have much to do so I’m not stressing about needing energy.

I found Dr. Mindy Pelz on YouTube when looking up advice for how to fast as a woman and am now a fan of her podcast, The Resetter Podcast. Here is a video where she explains when women should fast. I like it because she has visuals and is very clear and concise! Then, if you want more detail, I’d recommend this podcast where she is interviewed and talks about the benefits (she says that it has helped women who had been struggling with fertility to become pregnant! And help heal people with PCOS!), do’s and don’ts of fasting, and what goes on in our bodies hormonally.

The first day was when I thought the most about food. Day two was pretty breezy, I’d say the easiest of them all. I woke up feeling quite energized! My theory is that I feel like my tendency to eat at night makes my body get less rest as it sleeps. This meant waking up with a fully charged battery made me feel much more rested! On the third day, I was getting more head rushes if I got up too quickly, and did not feel as energetic. Every morning I stuck to my ~half an hour morning yoga/pilates practice as my exercise, and was doing minimal walking besides that. I had some goals for what I wanted to do with my time, like finish a few projects, practice guitar, meditate, then my evenings were spent reading or chatting with the people at the campsite where I was staying.

How?

It is recommended to decrease the amount of carbohydrates you eat three-four days before the fast so your body already gets used to burning fats for energy (instead of carbs). Though, I did not do this. Take my advice, I don’t need it! Hahahaha. Anyway, from Monday until the evening of Wednesday, my water fast looked like this:

* morning cuppa: herbal tea (I chose ginger and lemongrass) with a capful of apple cider vinegar, a pinch of salt, and a few teaspoons of MCT coconut oil

* water

* black coffee with MCT oil

* water

* water

* water

* herbal tea

Water fasting makes it sound like you can ONLY drink water, when in reality, the emphasis is keeping yourself in a fasted state. This means your blood sugar does not rise and your body can go into ketosis, where it burns fats as fuel instead of carbs. This is why Vinnie from Jersey Shore ate just the pepperoni and cheese off the pizza that one episode - he did not want to break his state of ketosis with the carbs of the dough.

Truly another big reason I wanted to fast is because I love the extra time it gives me in the day. It feels so spacious to not have to think about what to eat, cook it, eat it, clean up… because that’s actually a large portion of the day if you eat three meals! Instead, any time I feel hunger, I take a swig of water and the moment passes. I love knowing how optional food is, as well. This helps when I am going about my day and feel hunger arise. If I can survive three days on water, it makes any other time in my life pale in comparison! It lowers my anxiety about eating since I know what I am capable of.

After the fast, it is recommended to eat mainly broths and soups for the first 48 hours. The idea is to remain in ketosis for longer, so stick to proteins, fats, and cooked vegetables (steamed or boiled so the fiber is easier for your body to digest). Introducing fruits and carbohydrates comes in later.

I broke the fast with:

First: half cup of water, apple cider vinegar, and lemon juice.

Second: one cup of bone broth*

*I love “Best of the Bone” brand here in Australia. It’s about $30 AUD and lasts me around two months. All I do is heat up some water, pour it in a mug, scoop out about a half tablespoon or so of the concentrated broth, and stir it in. Best way to coat the intestines to prepare for food and it is sooo delicious! I’ve tried every flavor and can say my favorite is the bio-fermented coconut, lemon myrtle, Tumeric, and papaya leaf one.

Third: boiled broccolini with an organic beef hamburger patty*, kimchi, avocado, and goat cheese. I boiled the broccolini then sautéed it with some coconut oil, salt, and pepper. Everything I served with a bit of ghee** on the side.

*Note: I do NOT recommend breaking the fast with beef like I did. After doing more research, I would have stuck to a more lean kind of protein, like fish or egg or chicken, as I think my body freaked out with the beef. For vegetarians, pea protein was specifically recommended. I actually had painful diarrhea and believe it was either the meat or the goat cheese that my intestines were not ready for. Whoops. So please, learn from my mistake :-D

**This is the first time I purchased ghee for myself - I had had it before in small amounts to test and see how my stomach reacted (I am lactose intolerant, not very sensitive though) and always felt fine! It’s like butter as it’s made from cows milk, but has a lot less lactose. The reason is because its made by melting butter, separating it into liquid fat and milk fat, and then they toss out the milk fat so just the pure fat remains.

How did it feel to eat for the first time in 3 days? INCREDIBLE. It felt so different to be so intentional with choosing every ingredient. Another thing I loved was that I knew exactly what was in my body, so that if I ate something that made my stomach feel funny, I could repeat the same meal and take out an ingredient to experiment. This is a great blank slate to test for intolerances!

As I said before, something I ate did not agree with me, so later I tried just eating goat cheese to see if it was that, or the hamburger. The goat cheese felt fine, and later since I’ve eaten a hamburger happily, so it could have been too much, too soon.

For the next days, I had miso soup with a boiled egg, kimchi, and whatever random vegetable I had boiled with it (one day it was a carrot and a seaweed snack pack, another a squash, another a sweet potato) for breakfast, lunch was quinoa with smoked salmon, avocado, and cooked random vegetables (spinach, bell pepper). I actually didn’t really eat dinner the first day, I just had more broth and snacked on some fermented goodies like olives, kimchi, plus guacamole. The second night, I had two bananas with cashew butter inside. For break the fast recipe inspiration, I found this website (I love it for its clear visuals and concise information, can you see a pattern?), so feel free to check it out and borrow from them! Their tofu, protein powder, and chia seed pudding is now a favorite of mine - I had never thought to blend tofu!

Hopefully this has inspired you to give a prolonged fast a try! It has helped me to be more conscious about what I am eating and slow down to think: what do I actually need? Also, I liked aligning it with where I am in my cycle, as anything I do that helps me tune in with my body makes me feel more cyclical and empowered.

Feel free to share your stories and reactions with me! If you know something from your lived experience that you think would be beneficial to add, I’d love to hear it and add it to this post :-)

Lots of love to you and your beautiful body!! Xx

[the-last-concert]

Chapter One:

The Show Must Go On

The crowd roared as Hayley’s red hair poured all over the stage like a bucket of blood. She shook viciously as the crowd matched her energy as she started with “All I Wanted.” The song brought chills to my body once again as it transported me to where I first heard it.

I slammed the door to Pepper’s pickup truck as I rushed into the diner. My age was 15. He was 16. It was pouring rain. I didn’t have a coat or an umbrella, and my coiled hair hung low with soaked droplets of precipitation.

It was fitting.An uncomfortable wet look for an uncomfortable teary situation.

Straight out of a movie scene. I ran into the women’s restroom without meeting anyone. I didn’t need lurking eyes judging the way I looked at this moment. Once inside, I sank down to the coldest corner of the stall and cried until my eyes were sore and my nose was soaked with snot. It wasn’t pretty. The station played “All I Wanted” and I knew then, I would remember this moment.

Forever.

Pepper received his college acceptance a little early. Aside from being in honor classes, he was recruited to UCLA for a football scholarship. It wasn’t normal for him to commit early, but he always dreamed of living in L.A. among the music scene. He wasted no time giving them the answer. He was going. He told me after picking me up from my art teaching job for children ages 2 to 5-years-old. We stopped at Rosie’s. He wanted to take me to celebrate.

That was until I told him where I applied.

Pepper slammed his hands on the steering wheel. “What the hell Moggie? New York?! That’ll be across the country from me.”

I didn’t look at him, I couldn’t. Not when he was like this. Instead, I looked at the rain pouring against the window. “I know it is, Pepper. But how the hell did I know you would commit to UCLA so early?”

“Withdraw. Now.” Pepper ordered.

This time I turned to look at him, dead in the eye. “No.”

“Mog- you’re pushing it. You think you're gonna make it in that big city by yourself?” Pepper mocked me. “You’re too fragile and too careless for your own good. You won’t last ten seconds.”

I laughed sarcastically. “Oh yeah? And do you think L.A. would really accept a washed-up musician like you?”

He punched my seat, causing me to jump a little. When he relaxed back in his seat, he looked forward, hands clenching the wheel as hard as he could.

“Get out now.”

Speedy ended up rushing into the restaurant after Pepper took off without me. By then, I had a towel and a cup of Cocoa in front of me from one of the servers. I sat at the bar, looking straight ahead motionless. It was like somehow I knew we couldn’t recover from this. We fought before, but this felt different. It felt final. I knew… my heart was breaking. When Speedy half-carried me to his car, he didn’t ask me about what happened. He just made sure I was secured with a seatbelt before speeding off into the busy highway.

“Let’s move closer. This crowd is kinda bananas.”

Speedy’s voice snapped me back into the present. The crowd had been roaring over some classics, like Misery Business and Decode. I couldn’t blame them. Those were my favorite songs too. Speedy grabs my hand and pulls me out of the mushed bodies screaming and hailing over every lyric in the dark. We managed to go to the VIP spot, which was between the crowd and the stage. It was where the photographers and security guards worked, as well. It was a much clearer area. He leaned closer and asked, “You okay?”

I nodded. Even now, Speedy couldn’t help but look out for my safety. Even if he was pissed before, this has always been our relationship. My stubbornness always tends to push it away at most times. But… seeing him after 9 years, caused me to be a little more sentimental than I’d liked. My hand grips around through the loop of his hugged arms. He looked down and smirked. His right hand gently reaches over to cover mine. We stood like this until the song, My Heart, was over. My face got hot from the rising friction of both our touches. It was a settled beat, but it still caused my heart to do backflips with every note transcending through the audience. I peeked to see his face. His eyes shifted at the same time and held over a risen gaze. I couldn’t turn away, my body shifted closer as I broke away to touch his face. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. I stroked his cheek several times, but I couldn’t bring myself to move any more than that. I’ve seen Speedy a certain way for so long, I didn’t know how to take the next step.

“Speed, I-,” I started, but his movements rushed to my body and held me as his lips sealed over my speechless ones.

We were kissing. I enjoyed the sudden rush that held both of us. It felt like flickering flames seeping through our limbs-like two stars colliding after constant dust left in the wind. I gave in. I gave in so much, I couldn’t hear the music anymore. All I could hear was my thumping heart, matching his. Our heartbeats grew even louder as we kissed more in the icy New York wind. Then, as if his body jolted. He pulled us apart.

“Shit- I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have done that,” Speedy explained, his head low and his eyes were still closed.

“What are you saying right now?” I asked, frantically. Maybe it was all too good to be true. Maybe my feelings for him shouldn’t last. It was too much history, and if he regrets it already, then that gives up my hidden misery.

“Mog,” He sighed, while palming his face. “There’s so much you still don’t know. And Pepper…” Then his eyes widened as he cursed into the wind. “Shit, shit, shit. I gotta find Pepper. Stay here.”

Like I had a choice, before I could even get a word in, Speedy was gone. I guess his speed only kicked in when it counted for him. Now, I’m hugging my body to hold my tears in. I couldn’t cry in the middle of a Paramore concert. That would only make me feel even more pathetic. Several songs played and I was too busy focusing on the storm inside my mind, I couldn’t even enjoy them. I just waited for Speedy in this hushed phone-lit crowd to return to me.

Another set played and still no sign of him. I gave up waiting for him and headed to the bar as soon as they called for intermission. I fluffed out my jacket and folded it to hang over the bar stool next to me. I ordered a glass of whiskey. Iced. With a strawberry syrup flowing down to the bottom. I watched as bubbles foamed around the rim of the cup. Club soda was added to bubble it up more. I threw it back and one gulp. Soon, my eyes lowered as my body felt slumped. I was drunk. An echoing voice called my name, I couldn’t make it out. My head hit the counter as I closed my eyes to stop the bar from spinning.

“Ah, just great Speed. Look at her, she’s drunk.” Pepper's voice found me first.

“You’re really blaming me? If you weren’t so much of an ass, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” Speedy fired back.

“Careful,” Pepper warned. “Just help me get her backstage, alright? Maybe if we get some food in her, she’ll be okay.”

“Fine,” Speedy agreed. Speedy then patted my arm gently to wake me. “Mog, I’m sorry. Look- I found Pepper. We will get you outta here, don’t worry.” I tried to respond, but my mouth swirled all the words that were supposed to make sense.

“Just get her on my back,” Pepper told Speedy. “I’ll carry her to the Main room. I’m pretty sure there’s a buffet going on with plenty to eat.”

I felt Speedy lift me up and lower me down on Pepper’s back. His coat seemed wet. I didn’t know it had started to rain. Speedy helped me slip my coat on and cover my head with the hoodie. “She’s secure Pep. You better not drop her out there, either.”

“Just come on,” Pepper barked. “If you watch my 6, then I won’t have to.” That was the last thing I heard before I eventually passed out.

[readyplayerhobi]

Knife’s Edge | Final

; Mafia!Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader

; Genre: Angst, fluff

; Warnings: Mentions of abuse, slight eating disorder

; Word Count: 4.4k

; Synopsis: The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an  unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

; A/N: So after what...4 years? Knife’s Edge is finally finished! Some of you may not like this ending, some of you might love it. Please be kind, as it’s the first I’ve finished in a while! This chapter is dialogue heavy, and I hope the reasonings for the characters are understandable and believable. I’m half convinced you’re all gonna hate this, but please let me know your thoughts through comments, reblogs or asks! It helps encourage me to write more!

Previous Chapter ; Epilogue

-

Time seems to pass oddly after you’d sent Jungkook your final text. True to your word, you’d deleted his number from the device alongside the chat before throwing the phone away. From now on, you’d use your new phone.

Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘new phone, who’s this?’.

Not that it mattered. The only person who bothered to talk to you anymore was Jimin, and he was too busy with whatever he was doing. Plus, he obviously wanted to separate himself from you to try and move on from his feelings towards you. You respected his decision and kept your interactions at a minimum, but it hurt.

It hurt to know that you had no one anymore.

The last few days had been a struggle to even get out of bed, a deep and suffocating depression taking over that made it hard for you to have the energy to even open your eyes. Lethargy crept behind you in your shadow whilst the cruel thoughts in your head made it easy to just give in. Why should you bother going to college anymore? You wouldn’t be allowed to get a job after this and you were fully expecting to find out that the funding Jungkook had gotten for you would be pulled after this year.

It wasn’t like you needed the degree anymore, what were you going to do with it? You had no career prospects because the Clan didn’t like their women to work, but you needed to get a job because you had no marriage prospects. You would never have any marriage prospects because of your previous relationships with Jungkook, but you knew that there were plenty of depraved men who would delight in doing things to you with the knowledge that you’d once been Jungkook’s. It was a vicious circle that would cause you to break down if you thought about it too hard, so you didn’t think about it.

You carefully ignored it, pushing all the thoughts of what you might have to do in the future to keep yourself going into a box in your mind and burying that box. 

So for now, you keep attending classes and doing all the work they ask for. Jungkook had worked hard to get you these rights and privileges, so even if he wasn’t here then you wanted to try and make him proud. But if everything went to shit, then you already knew that you would rather just not be here than suffer the indignity of whatever some of the cruellest men in the Clan could offer.

Nothing you’d done would ever warrant enduring that, no matter what anyone in the Clan said.

A loud bang from downstairs makes you peek up from the covers, noting the numbers glowing in a soft green on your clock and sigh quietly. It’s just after six at night, and you have no doubt that your father has got immensely drunk once more. You can just hope that noise was him deciding to leave to go drown his sorrows in a bar instead of taking out that anger on you again.

The three months since Jungkook had last talked to you had resulted in an exceptional decline in the relationship between yourself and your parents. Whilst your mother had decided to just ignore you even existed, your father had turned towards alcohol to soothe the bruised ego he had.

He’d always been a cruel man, which was why he’d been welcomed so easily into the upper echelons of the Clan. The relationship you’d shared with Jungkook had helped, but they clearly liked a man who enjoyed and even welcomed violence sometimes. Unfortunately, for you, it had turned out to be a two-way street and his anger at the loss of prestige had finally outweighed his paternal feelings.

If he’d ever had any.

Your hopes disintegrate though as your bedroom door opens, the door violently hitting the wall and you immediately ball up even tighter. It’s silly, but the instinctive part of your brain tells you that if you make yourself as small and unassuming as possible, then maybe he won’t see you. Maybe he’ll leave you alone.

Drunk people aren't always the smartest.

“Y/N!” Tensing up with your shoulders around your ears, you almost don’t realise your name has been said. By the time you’re about to sit up and look, your bed covers are practically ripped off you.

You don’t even get a chance to yelp when you’re suddenly wrapped in someone’s arms, the hug almost violent. But you don’t care as the voice registers at the same time that your nose recognises the scent of who’s hugging you. A scent you didn’t think you’d ever smell again.

Twisting in his arms, you finally manage to get into a position where you can get a good look and immediately burst into tears.

Jeon Jungkook is currently holding you, his arms wrapped so tightly around your body that you worry for a moment that you might end up suffocating. But the thought disappears just as fast and you don’t question why he’s here, too busy pressing your face into his shoulder as you cry.

“Princess, oh my god, what the fuck. You scared the fuck outta me! I thought you were dead!” His voice trembles, the timbre so low that you can feel it vibrate through his body. Despite the emotions, you’re feeling - Jungkook was back, he was here, after 3 months! - his words break through to you.

“I-what? Dead?” You whimper out, wiping your eyes on his shirt without caring. He’d had you wiping your tears on his shirt many times before, but then you remember that he’s not yours anymore. He’s someone else’s now.

That makes you push away from him, shifting on the bed until you can pull your knees to your chest and hug them tightly. Sniffling, you look him over and note that he looks good. Like the last three months haven’t affected him, though there’s darkness under his eyes.

“Yes! Dead! What the fuck was that text you sent? I thought you’d - that you’d,” He pauses, frowning deeply and looking down at his hands as you realise he’s crying. “You’d made it sound so sad, I thought you’d done something to yourself.”

Stunned, you stare at him with wide eyes. How had he managed to get that from your text? You hadn’t mentioned anything about that, so it seemed like quite the logic leap to you.

“And then you wouldn’t answer your phone! I kept texting and calling but I couldn’t get away any sooner. Taehyung said that you wouldn’t answer the door and what the fuck was this about me getting married? I’m not getting married to some Chicago girl?! Why did you believe him? He was just angry and wanted to hurt you, I’ve reamed him out for that too.” Jungkook spits out, his words sharp and staccato.

It takes a moment for his words to filter through, and when they do you feel deep and immediate regret for throwing away your old phone. But if you’d kept it, would he have stayed away once he’d found out you were fine?

Either way, you focus on his words and frown deeply whilst trying to wipe away the tears that won’t stop falling.

“You’re not…you’re not getting married?” It’s the only thing you can think to say because it’s the most important thing he’d just mentioned. Jungkook wasn’t getting married to the heir of some Chicago Clan? Taehyung had been lying?

“No! I mean…not to some random woman I don’t even know. Why would you believe him? Why would you think I’d do that to you?” There’s hurt in his voice and you both take a moment to evaluate how you’re sitting. You’re half wrapped up in the covers still, sprawled over Jungkook’s lap whilst his legs were tangled underneath you.

Carefully, you get out of the covers and sit cross-legged against the headboard with the pillows at your back. Jungkook pauses momentarily before mirroring your position, taking the time to carefully remove his shoes before stretching out his legs. That makes you pause, eyes widening as you take in the expensive Nike’s he places on the floor.

Jungkook never wore shoes inside a house, it had been ingrained into him since being a child. Had he been so worried that he hadn’t even taken the time to take off his shoes?

“I didn’t mean to worry you…I just…Taehyung said that and it felt like everything ended. I thought it was confirmation that you didn’t want to see me anymore and that it’d be better for you if I leave you alone. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was going to do that.” Your room is so quiet that he can hear your whispered voice with ease, the atmosphere slightly awkward between you both.

Once, the two of you never used to be uncomfortable around each other.

“Well it did, and I…panicked, obviously. God…I’m gonna kill Taehyung. He was just angry on my behalf, and I get it but he went too far. He shouldn’t have lied to you. I was in Chicago, but it was just for stupid work stuff, nothing else. I swear.” You can’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid that you’ll burst into tears once more if you look into those bright eyes you loved so much.

“You don’t need to swear to me, not after what I did. I don’t have the right to get angry anymore.” It’s one thing to know that, but it’s another thing entirely to say it out loud to him.

He sighs deeply, staying quiet for a moment before he reaches over and takes your hand. Without a word, he carefully links your fingers together and squeezes your hands gently in an almost reassuring touch. It’s the most physical contact you’ve had with someone since you’d cried into Jimin’s arms, and the irony isn’t lost on you.

Still, you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from sobbing at the affectionate touch he gives so freely and openly.

“You’ve not been eating properly,” Is all he says in response to you before gently pressing his thumb against the back of your hand. “I can see it. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that black eye either, I’ll be having words with your asshole father. Piece of shit.”

As soon as he says that, you can practically feel your cheekbone throbbing and it takes everything in you to not press your fingers gently against the swollen skin. Of course, he’d noticed, and of course, he hadn’t made a big deal out of it. Jungkook had spent too long as a child and teenager taking care of those bruises and cuts that you’d suffered to not notice, but he also knew how much you hated attention being brought to it.

For a moment, you go to defend your father. It had been what you’d learnt to do growing up, even if Jungkook had hated that you’d protected him. One word from Jungkook would have had your father reprimanded, but you’d always known that it would cause more issues than it solved. At the same time, though, you trusted Jungkook with all your problems.

“He’s angry that he’s lost status after…you know. My mother’s response is to ignore I exist and his is to drink, as usual. Only he’s having to drink more now to forget how his life has fallen apart.” There’s a brief tightening of Jungkook’s fingers against yours before he lets out a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry, he’s an asshole. Give me the world and I’ll sort him out.” It almost makes you laugh, despite all the pain and hurt bubbling beneath the surface between you both. Despite everything, he was still more than willing to teach your father a lesson.

“No, ignore him. I’ve had more important things to worry about. And while you’re here, please just…let me speak. I’m sorry, I’m really, really, really fucking sorry. I can’t change what happened, but I own up to my mistakes and I know that what I did made me a really shitty person, the worst kind of person. I can’t even imagine how much I hurt you, and I’ll never be able to say how sorry I am. I was selfish and I ruined everything.” Shifting, you take his other hand and cup them both between your own before pressing them to your forehead.

“You gave me everything and tried so hard, and I threw it all away. I’m so sorry, Kookie, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why…no, no I won’t lie, I do know why I did it. But it’s not a good enough excuse, nothing is. You probably don’t want to hear this but you deserve to know everything, I don’t want to lie to you about anything anymore. I just…I just…I didn’t know who he was. I swear to you, I would’ve never put myself or you at risk like that, I promise. I thought he was just…a normal guy and I…I wanted to feel normal. Like I had a choice for once, and I made a stupid choice. I fucked up, I fucked up so badly and I couldn’t see how I was destroying my life. I’m so sorry.”

There’s more silence between you both after that, and you keep his hands pressed against your forehead to avoid looking at him and seeing any anger and disgust. It doesn’t stop the tears from falling down your face once more, making slow trails that feel like they’ve been carved into your face at this point. You’ve cried so much over the last three months and done more than a little self-flagellation.

“You’re partly right, but you’re also wrong. It was cheating after we got engaged, but it wasn’t technically before then. I’ve spent a while thinking this over and I realised some of the things you’d just said. You’d made a choice, a choice of your own and I know how rare that is for you. God, you’ve ranted to me enough times about how shittily our Clan treats women, I’m not stupid enough to not realise that you’d seen a chance to act like a normal woman and taken it. I also realised that we weren’t actually together. I’ve never asked you to be my girlfriend, I just assumed you were and you never contradicted me. This is my fault because I also realised that you probably wouldn’t say no to me,”

“Ironically, it was Tae who helped me to realise this. He pointed out that you never had a choice in the matter, that I’d basically chased off any potential lovers for you just by being near you. The Clan is misogynistic as shit and they’ll never touch you, not given how close you are to me. I…god, I sound so stupid but I didn’t even realise that until recently. You never had a choice, your choice was me or nothing and I’m sorry for that. I couldn’t do anything about it, but I’m sorry. I should’ve given you the choice and given you the decency of asking you out.”

 Jungkook sighs deeply, pulling a hand free from between yours and rubbing at his forehead. He shouldn’t be defending you like this, not after you’d hurt him and yet he seemed to be just as eager to spill his woes and regrets as you were.

Neither of you speaks for a moment after that, both awkwardly sitting on your bed and wondering what to say. The feel of his thigh against yours is warm, and it’s almost embarrassing how much you want to curl into his side. Just drift off and forget about the world for a while, but you can’t do that.

“I’m not angry anymore, I’m still hurt and I doubt I’ll forget it any time soon. But I’m not angry…and I forgive you. I’ve spent these last few months throwing myself into my work, figured I’d forget about you or something. Turns out I can’t, I didn’t answer your texts but I saw them arrive. Wanted to talk to you but also didn’t want to put myself through that. I even thought about trying to hurt you, sleep with women to see how you’d like it. Couldn’t do it, realised I wasn’t that kind of guy. Wondered why I wanted to forgive you so badly when I hated my father for constantly cheating on my mom, and then I realised it’s because you regret it. You made a mistake, and yeah it took a while for you to realise and tell me but you did. And you apologised, again and again. Sure, I thought you were gonna kill yourself but…you let me go. You told me that my happiness was more important than yours by letting me go, and that was when I finally realised that I couldn’t let you go.” He pauses to look over at you, a vulnerable look on his face.

You don’t respond, simply staring at him with an incredulous look. How could he possibly forgive you? Not only because of his status in the Clan but simply on a personal level. You’d hurt him in a way that no one had ever been able to do, he should hate you.

And yet you can’t stop the small kernel of hope deep within you.

Still, you don’t want him to ruin his life by people finding out. As far as you know, no one except Taehyung knows what happened. Everyone else just knows that something has happened.

Trailing your fingertips along the black tattoos that line his wrist, you swallow through a suddenly dry throat before pushing forward.

“You shouldn’t forgive me, it’s not forgivable. And no one will respect you if you do, you know what the Clan does to women who cheat. They’ll never accept it and if you force them to, they’ll view you as weak. They never liked me anyway. You deserve better.” It’s like you’ve taken a knife to your heart when you say those words, and you want to cry even harder. But you need him to know that you accept whatever consequences he gives you.

“Fuck them and fuck expectations. I deserve what I think I deserve, and that’s you. I don’t care what they think, they don’t know what happened because they don’t need to. Taehyung will never tell them, and even if they do know, I don’t give a shit. Why is it okay for all of them to cheat and hurt their wives but not the other way around? I know what you did, you know what you did and I forgive you for it. I haven’t forgotten, and I’m not sure I will but I also understand the context around this whole shit show. If we were normal people, living normal lives then this would have never happened. Because you would’ve been encouraged to be your own person from the beginning, to explore and experience love and dating. But we’re in this shitty ass Clan and its shitty, misogynistic and archaic rules so we didn’t get to go the normal route.” Jungkook is angry now, and it’s not at you.

Whilst the hand in yours is soft and gentle, his free hand clenches your bed covers tightly as years’ worth of pent-up irritation and annoyance bubble forth. Without even realising it, you’re already trying to comfort him as you start to massage his hand. It’s familiar, something that you’ve done for so long that the tendons and muscles of his hand feel as recognisable as your own.

“If we were normal, then I’m pretty sure you would have dated someone way prettier and cooler than me. I mean, look at you!” You tease lightly, trying to get him to smile. It works for a moment before he pokes at your cheek affectionately, the gesture making your stomach bubble in delight.

“No way! Have you seen yourself? Do you not remember what I looked like as a teenager. I was a Greek tragedy come to life,” He smiles then looks down at your still clenched hands and squeezes lightly. “Seriously though, I missed you. I’ve missed you so much, and the whole way here…I thought I was never going to see you again. It made me realise that I love you just as much as I did, and my life wouldn’t be as happy without you in it. Not getting to see you smile or laugh was just…it was too much. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, even now and most importantly…you’re my best friend.”

Jungkook chokes up on the final words, his voice breaking slightly as tears spill over. Without a word, you let go of his hand and pull him into you. There’s a bit of shuffling as you both shimmy down the bed, but soon enough you’re wrapped around him and hugging him tightly to you, your leg slung over his hips. It was his favourite thing to do when he was feeling sad or overwhelmed, and he instantly clings to you in turn.

“I love you, I still do. I still want to marry you, maybe I’m being stupid and an idiot by doing this but…I just know that I will be unhappy without you. I’ve never got to choose anything for myself either, though it was never as bad as for you, I am now. I want to choose you. I want to do it right, I want to properly ask you out and give you a choice as well. The amount of bad shit I’ve done already, I can’t lose you. I can’t.” 

You don’t say anything, just run your fingers through his hair slowly as you feel your shirt getting damp again your skin from his tears. He seems content to stay in the silence for a while as you ponder his words, wondering whether you deserve to accept the second chance he’s offering you. 

Whilst you’ve never been given a choice in your past, your gender dictating what the Clan thought you should be and should do with your life, Jungkook had been suffering under his own form of constraints. The son of the Clan leader, the only son. He hadn’t been allowed to choose his degree course, nor would he ever be able to choose his career. His life had been planned out even more than your own had written as soon as he was born.

That he was still willing to stay with you, that he acknowledged the struggles you faced as well and accepted them warmed your heart. He was too sweet for his own good, and it hurt you to think of all this soft kindness and happiness being crushed until he was a mirror image of the cold and cruel man his father was. And some part of you knew that would happen if you rejected him here if you let your guilt and fear push him away.

If he was willing to forgive you, to try again and do it all properly this time, then should you accept it? Should you give yourself a second chance?

“Okay, if you’re willing to take me back even after what I did…I choose you. I’d choose you over anyone else. I love you.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, just hugs you even tighter and you relish every moment of it. Enjoy the heat of him against your body, the physical strength of him and so much more. The scent of his shampoo as you press your nose against his head, inhaling deeply against his hair. All the things you never thought you’d get to experience again. You’d be an idiot to turn him away when he was willing to try again, forgive you and move forward.

“I swear, I’ll never do it again. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever done and I’ll regret it forever. Never again, I love you. I love you so much, Kookie.” Kissing his head, you try to cuddle him even tighter as you try to push the love you have for him through osmosis or something.

He giggles for a moment against your chest, his breath hot against your skin before he manages to wiggle his head up and look at you with those bright eyes you love so much. It makes your heart twist that you could’ve ever thought about giving this up, about giving him up.

“We’re a team, yeah? Both of us, I support you and you support me.” Nodding at him, you can’t help but smile when he smiles back at you. 

“Me and you, yeah? Fuck everyone else and their expectations.” With that, he shifts until he’s kissing you, his lips soft against your own. It’s a gentle kiss, filled with love, longing, regret and sorrow. The kind of kiss you never thought you’d ever get again, more than you think you deserve.

Both of you keep it light and you get the sense that neither of you wants to let yourselves get too far, to ruin this moment with sex. This isn’t a moment for that, it’s for you both to reconnect emotionally.

You have so much to prove to Jungkook from now, to prove that you love him and you choose him over any other possibilities. You’ll never lie to him again, unless it’s over something small like his birthday present, of course. He’s given you a second chance, a chance you’ll never think you deserve but you’ll take it with both hands.

Kissing him once more, you trail your fingers along his face gently and marvel at the fact he’s here in your arms.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. We’ll do this right, I promise. No more assuming, no more not having a choice.” Nodding, you feel hope building in your chest for your future for the first time in months. No more lies, no more secrets, no more guilt and no more stress. Just him and you, the way it had always been and the way it should be.