#I almost wrote something on body image issues but never posted it

[rosenbraut]

“Im so stressed and everything is pointless. I need to—“ remembers suicide jokes ruin the mood “—develop an eating disorder.”

[arugula2048]

ik you prob wrote abt this ages ago but I wanted to say I appreciate your additions abt the 'almond mom' discussion. I saw it came from a child model almost fainting and the mother advising her to eat a couple of almonds chewed very slowly. So literally from eating disoreded mom harming and abusing child by purposefully malnourishing them. Ofc over time ppl posted more ambiguous things but what if the er mom was asked to comfort the child and 'did her steps' imstead? Or the mom eating salad (1/2

2/2 and the family eating heavier meals. Oftentimes the mom is visibly upset with the children so maybe they are 'breaking the cycle' by eating satisfying food after being told not to for many years? Like I agree we must not forget ppl acting 'strange' w food incl moms are victims of society which promotes disordered eating. But to actively push that on your child is cruel. And many ppl are not mentioning how strange their mom is but rather how it results in treating them, shamimg, policing them

I feel you, I could understand if the 'pacing bc she's worried and not ED' interpretation if it was one of many used in the analyses, but it irked me when so many bloggers just ran with that alone. Not very empathetic to the child, gyns, who in the post example was in the fucking ER, implying she wanted comfort but her mother prioritized her own body image instead... It's so funny (not funny) how they breezed past that part and was like "this bitter ungrateful child!! of course she's definitely lying about her mom to mock her"

It's an interesting analysis to focus fully and only on the 'almond mothers' in that post. But then to say that's the only way to see it and say that children are responsible for their mothers' healing is repulsive. I can't tell if that conclusion came from temporary tunnel vision, or if they never had a bad relationship with their mother, or if they no longer see themselves in the child now that they're adults, or if they're partly speaking from unresolved issues and believe that fixing their mothers will fix them too. They would've betrayed their younger selves just like their mothers did lol.

Not to mention, like you said, mothers are grown women and had decades to reflect on their experiences and illnesses to decide how they'd raise their daughters. As an adult and as a parent, they had that responsibility to step up for their children lol. The audacity of the ~approach your mother with a feminist mindset to break entire generational cycles of misogyny and EDs~ statement is unbelievable. To put that work on children? So the mothers shouldn't need to do anything? Why don't we start smaller with something kids can do?

I think that post got like that because of the whole "mother discourse" that had people acting as if someone said 'mothers should be officially recognized as a subhuman class' instead of 'I prioritize girls because they're the common denominator demographic of all women'. Cue the overcompensation and almost victim-blaming kids who were coached to get EDs. They seriously looked at a kid in the ER and blame her for her mom being fucked up, no one in that post contested that first reply. Yikes, but that's the internet, I guess.

Thank you for the message, I'm glad we felt seen by each other. Have a good day, anon!

[chat--blanc]

So I've already posted this as an ask to a blog but I kinda just got fed up with hiding so here's a vent piece I wrote last night.

Ever since I can remember, I've always been left behind. So young and so so small when my father left me and my two siblings l, he strung me along for years with false hope. My household was cold and unloving, detached and unaffectionate. So cd and so lonely yet all I ever wanted was to be loved. I wanted to be seen, to be heard, to be held and cared for.

I grew older and made many short friendships, but the ones I had hoped would last a lifetime slipped through my small hands. What hurt the most was when I fell in love with my oldest and closest friend. It hadn't lasted and all the while, even till this day, I still doubt myself. Do I even know what love feels like? Or was I mistaking obsession with love? I still don't know. I ruined that friendship later on with my own fears and insecurities. I tried to fix it, but was met with hollowness and later radio silence spanning more than half a year and counting.

Now I'm a young adult, and I learned that in my youth, my mother had essentially abandoned me emotionally. She filled my head with lies and misconceptions on my own relatives and body image issues. How much more betrayal can my heart take? Why do I fear rejection to the point it's debilitating? How can I mend the pain in my heart so that I might trust fully again?

I've seen dual-sided faces of those I considered friends and suffered for it. How can people be so blatantly cruel and wicked? Why doesn't mankind show kindness? Peace and goodwill on Earth? It's disheartening to see that people are consumed with selfishness and greed.

I wish I could open my heart enough to trust and love another but I'm so afraid of getting hurt. I know that it's a part of growing up but I can't bear it. Even now, I have a close friend that I wonder about, too afraid to even think about the possibility that I might have feelings for them. I refuse to let myself consider it.

Sometimes I wonder... If I can manage to cut the ties that bond me to my father... Could I do the same with my mother? Would that be too extreme? It's not like she'd even listen or acknowledge my troubles. She'd most likely become defensive and turn things around and against me.

At a young age I didn't have much or anyone for comfort or for advice. Yet I remember most of the lessons I have; social, moral understandings, and so forth stemmed from film, books and music. I learned kindness, love, friendship and strength that comes from the heart is very powerful. But... I was still so lonely in a small house of four.

I'll never forget when I first met him. I was so small, and he was almost as big as me. His yellow gaze followed you no matter where you looked. Void of emotion but for me... I felt nothing but warmth just from his presence. I'll never forget the way I lit up when I first held him all those years ago. I was convinced, and still am, that this... This warm and fuzzy feeling... Was love.

Over the 16 years with him and I to my adult age, I still look to him for guidance. When my heart is in turbulence and my mind is too clouded with grief, all I need to do is close my eyes. There he is, his presence and warmth swirl around me and I bathe in his light. Basking in his nurturing aura. His embrace soothes my aching heart and his words so gentle like a summer breeze through wild grassy fields. Eyes that glow like yellow fireflies. His words are the only assurance I need. I suppose he's something like my Roman Empire as silly as it sounds. Everyday when I'm not home, all I long for is to curl up next to him and to wrap my arms around him under fluffy blankets. Snuggling close.

I don't tell many people about him, those that I have I feel don't fully grasp just how powerful his actions and presence have helped me grow. People wouldn't understand or think I'm delusional, crazy or immature. My reasoning doesn't need to be justified. In a world where I've been let down so many times by so many... I know that he will always be there. Supporting me, loving me, and believing in me when I can't.

[the-missann]

I just really don't have anyone to talk to about this stuff, so I figured to share it here and just get it out there 😅

Long post inbound

Original Ideas

1. The Dark Moon

I wrote around three chapters for this already, but nothing more.

Following an aristocrat in the gothic era named Vusha, he is searching for someone who can cure an ailment of his. He goes through several wives, all of who do not resolve his issue. Yet, on his most recent courting, this woman seems to know everything about his ailment and even scoffs in the face of the danger it may bring her.

Excerpt:

"Who are you?" Vusha yelled while holding Cassie in his arms.

Her limp body fell against his and Vusha only hoped she was still alive. His grip on her limp body only got tighter as he hoped she would awaken soon.

The figure in front of him didn't appear as any man Vusha ever saw. His skin was pale and the unkempt bang of hair rested right over his eye hiding most his face, but Vusha couldn't shake the animalistic feeling he had. Almost as if the person in front of him were like himself.

"Cassie... what's she gotten herself into this time?"

"Who are you!" Vusha repeated his earlier question, this time with a more stern voice.

The pale figure looked at him. "I'm Curil and I need to see her."

Vusha's grip on her only tightened and he pushed further away from Curil, desperately keeping Cassie away from him.

"Why would I relinquish her to someone who hasn't explained their purpose here?"

"I'm not taking her." Curil began calmly. "I need to be sure she's not dead as it is not her time yet."

Vusha's brows furrowed. "What?"

"With your affliction--as well as what you know to be true in your reality--I trust you'll believe me when I say I am a Grim Reaper."

Examining his features, Vusha couldn't help but feel this was the truth. Unlike the images of skeletal figures in dark robes, this man just looked undead. Like life had never graced him and death was all he knew.

Vusha eased a bit. "I thought reapers were to show when someone's time is nigh?"

"Not in her case." Curil walked over and crouched, he maintained a distance however. "This young woman is afflicted--much like yourself--only in her case with something she cannot hope to control. This woman doesn't have a guardian angel, she has me to watch over her."

Vusha felt his ears deceived him. He looked at Curil's stern face and found no falsehood on him or within his voice. Vusha looked down to Cassie, seeing her soundly resting in his arms. Curiosity overtook him and he spoke up.

"Why would she have a reaper guarding her?"

"Because, it is my job to be sure she only perishes the way she's supposed to. An angel would protect her from the harm itself, but the danger she attracts will find her one way or another." Curil paused. "Now, will you let me see her?"

Vusha groaned softly. He didn't want to just hand Cassie over, not knowing if Curil could be trusted or not, but it seemed too far-fetched to be a lie.

Vusha glared at Curil and gently rested Cassie onto the ground, he stayed between them....

2. Orange Perfect

This is a SUPER old idea that's complete but not edited for reading. I recently got back into it, not fully, but I came up with something I found interesting.

I try to have as much representation in my stories as humanly possible and wanted an internal struggle with a young man coming to terms with his sexuality. I'll say right now that as a cis het woman, I cannot portray it exactly, but I did my best and I hope not to downplay any real struggles associated.

The story is basically a coming of age for three characters: my MC Cassie, (she's usually my MC), and my two secondary MCs Shay and Lucius. They each struggle with different issues, but they help each other come to terms with their changing world.

Excerpt (aka the part I was gonna add):

"I don't know." Shay began. "I guess I don't know what I want anymore... how to feel... or what I should be feeling."

Cassie listened to him and said nothing, she remained looking at him and spoke after a second of silence.

"Maybe... It's not that you don't know, but you don't wanna say it?"

Shay looked at Cassie and seeing her expression, he scoffed and shook his head.

"You know, you're really easy to read and I'm not gay." His eyes rolled in annoyance.

"No one said you were. Maybe, you just don't feel comfortable in a certain role you have... well, a role you feel like you have to fulfill." Cassie paused with a sigh. "And anyways, no matter what's true about you, that's not a bad thing. You're you and every little thing that goes into making that--who you are--is beautiful, no matter what it is or who has something to say about it."

Shay scoffed. "Even if it was true, what do you know about anything like that? You, a girl, who's okay with being one."

Cassie's head shook. "Who said that?"

Shay narrowed his eyes. "It's obvious."

"Yeah, maybe because otherwise no one would care to put up with me." Cassie looked off. "I won't say how I feel is comparable by any means, but it's no less valid." Cassie gripped her hands together as she spoke. "When you feel like a girl, but have dreams people say are for boys... it gets to you. You don't know who would even want to deal with you and you change to fit one mold, but it... It never quite feels right."

Shay swallowed hard before saying, "is that why... you liked Lucius?"

Cassie hid her face. "Yeah." Taking a sharp breath, it seemed like she wasn't going to say anything else...

3. Manifested Malevolence

This is a somewhat old story I just never got around to finishing. It has ~10k and I do have the whole thing planned, but I'm kind of lazy when I have no motivation 😅

So, it's a dystopia where my two MCs, Curil and Cassie, run into each other. Hoping to work together, Curil finds it hard to simply trust her right away, especially with all the strange happenings that only occured when they ran into each other.

Excerpt:

Curil turned back as he supported her escape out the window. With the water gushing, his gaze snapped back. The pipes were bursting in other places and he couldn't tell how many more would burst, so they needed to move and move fast.

Curil returned to looking at Cassie and she had gotten mostly out of the way, so Curil hurried himself to the window sil and stood up pressing his back tightly against the outside wall of the building.

Cassie was just standing there, unable to move any further. She was gripping the wall tightly and made no effort to even open her eyes. Curil tried to look past her and saw there was another building right beside the one that was currently filling with water. He knew Cassie wasn't going to open her eyes, so he just spoke.

"Okay, Cassie?" She shook her head. "Just listen to me. There's a building we might be safe in, so let's go there."

Cassie said nothing and just remained holding tightly to the wall.

Curil sighed. "Cassie, come on, I know you can do this! All you have to do is move to your left." Curil began to hear the water pouring out of the windows. When he looked back, Cassie was slightly moving. "Good job Cassie!"

He encouraged her and started to move himself. He got close enough to her and kept giving her words of encouragement. Soon, they reached the edge of the building and when Cassie's hand felt the corner she let out a gasp and opened her eyes.

"W-where do I go!" Her voice shook.

"Relax, Cassie, you might fall and you don't want that do you?" Her head shook furiously. "Okay then, I saw a balcony on the edge of that building. Do you see it?"

She nodded. "Y-yeah, I s-see that."

"Okay, think you can jump to it?"

"J-jump to it?" She shook her head. "No, I can't do that!"

"Cassie, come on! I know you can and being out here is dangerous! Just try it, we should be close enough to do so."

Cassie remained against the wall, unmoving. Curil looked back, seeing more water pouring out of the window. He looked back to Cassie and saw her still standing there. Curil didn't know what else he could do.

"Forget it... This is why I was better alone."

Curil mumbled that and started to sidle against the wall the other way, he figured he'd find something else he could climb down on.

Cassie's breath turned ragged and she tried to speak. Not only did the wind take her breath away, her throat was horse. Cassie looked back to the balcony and took a deep breath. She shut her eyes tight and took yet another breath.

"It's okay... it's okay... it's okay... it's... okay!" Cassie pushed herself off the building and screamed as she fell to the balcony.

When she landed, she roughly tumbled before slamming into the other side of the balcony wall.

Groaning, she just lay barely moving on the floor...

4. Siren's Call

I just fell in love with a character I made and wanted to work on this sequel ☺

I don't wanna spoil anything in case I ever decide to post the 1st story. Lmk, if you're interested, it's actually done, but I'm finishing some beta reader edits.

So, in the previous story, an event took place and things are a little different than usual, mainly that Demons seem to be the ones trying to help Humans.

Excerpt:

"This world makes it so individuals are less intelligent because they lack education thanks to a worthless currency. Regardless of it's value, nothing can beat the desire for knowledge."

"But you're a teacher," Akuma said with a smirk.

"I can do very little to change the institutions already agreed upon--or shall I say unchallenged?--that is why I give free lessons and dedicate my time to students who want to pursue higher forms of education, not just this corporate cash grab sullying the pursuit of knowledge."

"So, with talk like that, you're not worried about someone thinking your a Demon?"

He scoffed. "Even if they did, Humans perceive what they want to, not what's actual fact. So if I appear to be a Demon, only those who want to see me as one will. I could bear down my dark attachments, lose the soul in my eyes and some will still advocate for me. That is the nature of Humans."

Dia may have looked different, but he still was the same Demon he always was.

"I guess I see what you mean... But, why are you here?" Akuma asked.

"Isn't it obvious? To protect Cassie's interest. Not many have it in mind and I'll be dammed it I allow another tragedy to happen while I'm alive."

I also drew for a lot of some of my other stories! Many of my characters have finalized designs and I love how they came out!

Fanfiction

1. The Tangled Choice

Fandom: Ace Attorney

So, I wrote three stories about Van Zieks 'cause I got obsessed with him after DGS.

Also, I'll just put a *Spoiler Warning* in case you didn't play the games. I don't really spoil anything, but just in case, feel free to skip this one.

I really like his solo stories, but I also like this one too!

This story is a love triangle between my OC/MC Cassie, Van Zieks and Asogi. I always love the "gentlemen duel" where two individuals work for the heart of the one they love. Cassie is ditzy in this story and doesn't even realize they're fighting over her, so it's now two tasks instead of one.

Excerpt:

Cassie nodded. "I did get a bit carried away, that's like me though."

Barok smiled a bit. "That it is."

Asogi then stood up. "Since it's late, I'll accompany her back home."

Barok just looked at the him without a word. It was more of a scowl than anything.

"Oh, thank you! I know Barok may have work he must see to, so I apologize for taking up your time." She got up. "Actually, I didn't ask how you two know each other."

Asogi smiled. "Perhaps I can inform you on the walk home?"

She giggled. "Sounds wonderful."

"Then we shall see to it... but, do you mind if me and Lord Van Zieks speak for a moment?"

"It's no problem. I'm fine waiting since you both were so generous to me." They both chuckled as she got up and walked to the door. "Have a good night Barok!"

"You as well and please get some rest."

"I certainly will, you don't have to worry." Cassie then opened the door and left.

Once the door shut, the air of pleasantries left with Cassie, leaving a stale more hardened feel in the room.

Asogi spoke up. "I would love to ask about your relationship, but I'm sure you would want to ask the same of me."

"You're correct." Van Zieks stated. "However, Cassie may not answer the same as you. So, what is your relationship?"

Asogi let out a sigh. "There's no use in dancing around, I happen to cherish Cassie. She is a very wonderful woman and I would hate to see her with a frown on her face."

Barok nodded. "Then we're the same."

"Now I'll ask, what's the nature of your relationship? How does Cassie view it?"

"Purely platonic." Barok was quick to answer. "Cassie is a very close friend, introduced through a mutual of ours. I relied on her for the better part of a year. I wouldn't want to see her life without fortune and happiness."

"We truly are the same then." It seemed Asogi was going to leave it there, but he took a sharp breath. "So, how are we to go about this? I have no intention of just letting her slip out of my hands."

"Neither do I." They sat stiff for a moment. "How about this, we let Cassie choose." Barok proposed. "Whoever she feels strongest towards is the one who takes her heart, no question about it."

"You two have known each other longer. What chance do I have?"

"I'm fine with pampering her, even expressing our feelings outright," Barok said, "it would actually be very hard for me not to pamper her."

"Is that so? Well, I agree with the terms. Whatever becomes of our advances shall not be met with malice, however, and we shouldn't make things hard on her. Let's not fight amongst ourselves." Asogi added.

"I agree. This is for Cassie after all."

"Indeed."

With that, it settled their conditions with little to no argument. Thus began the length of their efforts to court their unrequited love in a Tangled Choice...

Untitled One Piece Fanfiction

Fandom: ^

When I was a kid, I was obsessed with Law from One Piece and wrote nearly ten fics for him. One in particular was really good (for a 13 year old) and I decided to revise it to meet my standards now.

Excerpt: “We have no food!” Cassie complained with a tone almost as if a Warlord were right in front of them.

Law sighed, knowing she had nothing important to tell him. “Who cares? Can’t you find something to make like you always do?”

“That’s the problem, I’m really hungry right now and there’s nothing for me to cook!”

Once more, he sighed. This time, he got up and stood in front of her. “We’re coming up on an island, just wait and you can go shopping later.”

She huffed. “Can I buy whatever I want?”

Despite only knowing her for a few weeks, those words made him pause. Law knew she could easily spend more than a thousand Berri just from a trip to the market alone, he learned that the hard way and felt like he couldn’t let it happen again.

“I’m going with you then.”

She giggled. “Good! That means I can buy lots of stuff and you can carry it for me.”

“Really? Is that something you should be saying so easily around me?”

She gave a slight shrug. “What difference would it make? Aren’t you smart enough to see through my plans regardless?” Law felt his mouth turn up in a bitter smirk and Cassie already turned to head out of the room. “I’ll be ready once we dock!”

Without any confirmation on his end, Cassie was out of the room and left Law as he once was. Law now needed to focus on a different task—being sure they wouldn’t lose more money than they had. He softly shook his head and returned to his desk.

Law considered this woman as someone who was flagrantly carefree. Nothing seemed to ever bother her and she adapted to the crew quickly. In her few weeks with them, she easily made friends with almost everyone; similarly she had gotten comfortable enough to speak with Law as if he were nothing more than a colleague and not her captain.

There wasn’t much time between their arrival at the island—not like he led on—and this was only confirmed when he heard a ruckus above him on the deck of the ship. He was quick to check it out and once he reached the outside, he saw Cassie nearly falling off the rail of the submarine as she impatiently waited for them to dock.

“Cassie!” She turned to see Law. “It’ll be your own death if you fall off.”

She snickered. “You act like that matters, I can save myself!” With that, she stood up on the railing. “Maybe if we could dock faster, I wouldn’t be so impatient.” From her body came large green vines and they fell into the water. She descended on her below Law’s sight.

He walked to the edge and found her casually resting on a makeshift raft from the vines that came from her. With one vine anchored to the submarine, she looked up to him.

“Come on, we can leave and let Bepo safely dock the sub.”

“Or—” Law’s finger rose and before Cassie knew it, she was back on the submarine’s deck. She collapsed on her back from the sudden shift. “You could learn to wait.”

Frowning, she got up; her arms were crossed, but Law saw the vines retracting back into her body.

“Fine, whatever.”

With her calmed, he returned to the interior of the submarine hoping to get a budget in place before they arrived...

Untitled Obey Me! Fanfic

Fandom: ^

Soooooo it's no secret that I love Levi from OM! However, I since I'm a lot older I didn't think writing a fanfic would be worth it and never did. However, I'm currently struggling with... everything in my life and got a good idea for a story with him.

In it's infancy so I haven't written very much for it, but I'll summarize to story instead.

So, that's it from me. If any of these interest you, feel free to ask me anything about them. I'd even me open to just talking too, no pressure and thank you for reading if you got this far! ❤

Summary: It was almost fate for the pair to meet--Levi didn't get his preorder and Cassie did. Despite the tension between the two at first, they soon realize they have more in common than they thought.

[cowboylikedean]

I just wanted to send you love because I find your writing on the current fatphobia discourse really eloquent and insightful. My personal experience with disordered eating mirrors what was depicted in the video, and I’ve found a lot of the ways people are discussing it (and the subsequent change to the video) very triggering. Your words, on the other hand, are insightful and educational, without making me feel shame. I’ve learned a lot from reading what you’ve written, and I wanted you to know that 💕

awww!! this made me feel really good, actually.

I wrote about this particular erasure of fat people from the conversation of body issues a lot more a few months ago.

That's an ask I got in response to this post, which I wrote after hearing that Victoria's Secret song on tiktok. I'm just going to copy and paste that here because I want the full text in this response:

there’s always something so humiliating about average and below average size women talking about body shaming, body issues, and eating disorders.

I will never be able to explain it to them and they will always feel like i’m telling them they weren’t shamed by the patriarchy…… but they have no idea how much the co-opt the conversation… and they have no idea how much I don’t relate

I was never told that I had to “lose the cellulite” and I never compared myself to models, nor did anyone else compare me to models. I was compared to them. they were my models THEY were my unatainable beauty standards. and they talk about their bodies like they had to work so hard and like society hates them so much…… but i had to learn how to hate myself because i didn’t look like them and they had to learn how to not hate themselves because they didn’t look like they were photoshopped.

it’s humiliating and I cannot stand it

This is why the word “fat” is so important to me in that scene. because NOTHING in it compares her to anyone or anything. Nothing says “you don’t look like you’re photoshopped so you’re fat” that’s not what illness!Taylor is responding to. Illness!Taylor responds to the word “fat,” and nothing else. It’s not about how clothes fit, it’s not about how much space she takes up, it’s not about the number on the scale, it’s about the word fat.

Something I feel like I never hear or see thin and average people talk about is how absolutely none of the body issues would exist without the underlying “fat is bad” of it all. If a person who is a size 16 thinks they’re really fat, even though the reality is they’re dead average... The problem isn’t (just) that they have a distorted conception of themselves, it’s also that they think that being fat means anything. If there was no hatred of fatness and a person who was a size 16 thought they were fat even though they were dead average, they could just go along thinking they’re fat and that would be that. The only reason why this has negative affects by way of an ed is because of that underlying hatred of fatness.

Taylor, as someone smaller than a 16 getting on a scale and it saying “fat” only means something because her illness has a reaction to the word and concept of “fat.” And this is how it works for thin and average people! I just feel like the video was too illuminating to this and it’s so much easier to tell yourself you’re not fat than it is to challenge your entire understanding of body size

Anyway! That was a detour to the point! Thanks for this message. Hearing that someone cares and is learning something from me makes me feel really good because like this quote from that ask reply I linked to really just hits in on the head:

I said that average-below average people take up so much space in body positive spaces and the body image narrative that sometimes it’s hard to breathe and it feels so humiliating because this should be an easy “fat” space you know? like we’re the ones with the obvious highlight here but we almost never get it. 

It can sometimes (most times) feel like there is no space for me and others like me in this conversation.. so it feels really good to be told there is space for me.

[springalwayscomes]

Not even a gift

Plot: Since the moment Jungkook saw your ass he swore he never saw something that beautiful. But then you turned around, and well, that was a total different thing. The poor man couldn’t even stand beside you without embarassing himself or embarassing you, and evey time seems to get worse and worse and...worse. 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Dancer AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut, One Shot

Wordcount: 30k

Content Warning: Jungkook can’t stop embarassing himself, swearing, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, awkard situations, masturbation, sexual fantasies, a lot - a lot - of fluff, Reader with stress issues, overwhelming parents, trust issues

A/N: I wrote this when I was just joining the fandom, last year for Kookie’s birthday. I remember wanting to pst this so badly but it stayed in my drafts because I wasn’t sure it was good enough and I was a little insecure about the ending. I told to myself that someday I’d rewrite a new ending and post this, but knowing myself and how I work with my writing, I know that that day will never come because even if did so, I’ll probably end up with not liking my style of writing anymore and editit all out, leave it like this or delate it. So I told myself that I’d rather prefer to publish it. cause at the end this story was incredibly funny to write - sometimes I would laugh all alone like an idiot while writing it - and to be honest I think it’s pretty good. It’s the very first fanfiction I wrote about BTS so it’s also very meaningful for me. For reasons as the ones I already mentioned I decided to not edit this, so you might find some grammatical errors, please understand that this was the first time I wrote something from scratch in english. If you’d like to read it in episodes I’m going to publish it on youtube as a series too, where you’ll be able to live the full experience of the story since there you can visualize it too, as for the story it’s exactly the same as here. Enjoy reading this one, I know you’ll have fun!

Watch the first episode on Youtube

Since the moment Jungkook saw your ass he swore he never saw something that beautiful. It wasn’t just fit and solid, it was the way you were moving it on the beat, making it look like something he’d die to touch, squeeze, hold.

That was the very first thing he noticed about you.

He couldn’t help but fantasize how you’re face would look, watching your back from the doorframe of the ballroom. He imagined you sweat, little drops forming on your forehead caused by the the movements. He tried to focus his attention on the other dancers, fixating his gaze on the girl beside you making the exact same moves as you, but something about your presence kept on calling him like you were a mermaid and he was a poor sailor.

His dark doe-eyes ended again on your body, being in the last row it was hard for him to find your reflection in the mirror, other bodies moving endlessly making him grimace. He was running out of time, the poor man got stuck in traffic on his way here, already twenty minutes late, and god knows why he stopped looking at you dancing.

He shook his head when even after the music stopped your back was still facing him, not that he minded, but he was really dying to know how your face would look like.

Someone must have been both incredibly hungry and in love with him, cause a second later, you were bending over, resting your elbows on your thighs and giving him an even more beautiful view of your ass while trying to catch your breath. 

Breath stuck in his lungs, Jungkook gulped hard, making his adam’s apple jump up and down.

The girl next to you said something that made you laugh, back invaded by the spasms of your laughter, something he couldn’t hear because of all the talking that was going on in the room. He wished he could. He imagined your voice, soft and sweet, and soon enough is mind was already wondering about your features.

Snorting and getting out of his trance, he remembered himself he had to practice. Ready to take the first step away from the ballroom which he didn’t belong to, he shook his head a second time and turned, ready to leave his thoughts about you in that room and never meet them again.

But a second song started. And this time, he recognized the beat. Holding his breath again, he faced the entrance with a speed that got him shocked by himself.

Your hips were moving again, slowly and sensually, hands drawing abstract shapes in the air, hair attached to your skin. Your sweat shorts were doing nothing to hide your skin from his dark eyes, all he could think about was the way it seemed to shine under the lights of the room and the way your sweat would make it look even more glowing.

He hissed through his teeth, trying to push away the though of his hands against your skin, the way he’d like to trace your thighs with his fingers, leave pecks against your body and mark your hips with his lips. He brought his gaze back on your ass, sinful eyes burning against your skin and jaw clenching, Jungkook licked his lips and watched you arch your back before bringing your left leg to your head, holding it with your hands as you tiptoed your right foot.

«How long have you been here?»

He literally jumped, locking his gaze with whoever gave him a heart attack. Standing beside him, looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes wide were Yoongi.

«I-»

«You know this is the wrong room, right?» he looked at him with a blank expression, trying to understand what Jungkook was actually doing standing at the doorframe of a different studio, without even caring about the fact he should be practicing with him and the others.

«I know, I was just... looking around.» he managed to let out, before taking a deep breath and stepping towards Yoongi.

The moment he realized he was rocking a half-hard just by his previous sight, he clenched his jaw and gulped again. If Yoongi had already noticed his situation then he wouldn’t know cause his face was no longer on him, neck turned to peek into the room that stole the maknae’s attention before. The youngest one used that moment to bring his bag in front of him, and then headed to their dance class trying not to draw too much attention.

That was the first time he saw you.

Jungkook dropped his bag to the ground as soon as he entered his bedroom, removing his sneakers and his socks he headed to his bathroom in a matter of seconds, begging to feel the cold drops of water wash away all the sweat on his skin and the heat of his body, even though the last one wasn’t because of the workout.

His cock was aching, so damn hard and throbbing against his sweat pants.

He wished they finished their practice just a few seconds sooner. Dancing was a pain in the ass today, all he wanted to do was head back to your doorframe and peek at you, loose his gaze on your body, trying to steal a glance of your face.

But still, it didn’t happen. He couldn’t help but think about how’d you look during the three hours of rehearsals, he thought about it so much that now he had a clear image of you in his mind. And it was pretty platonic, almost inaccessible.

He removed his shirt and his pants, letting them fall on the ground, and then turned on the water, already hooking his fingers under the elastic band of his boxers. He was so hard that it ached.

Jungkook took a deep breath and palmed himself through the material, immediately hissing at the touch. Deciding it was not enough he let the cloth slowly fall to the ground, creating a wall around his ankles that he surpassed in a second getting in the shower.

He didn’t waste time on lathering, he just shut the glass door and closed his eyes while bringing his hand to his shaft. The fingertip of his thumb collected the precum leaking out of his slit, moving over his head and making him clench his jaw shut, breath already uneven.

He though about the way you moved your hips, he’d like to hold them tight and down on the bed while fucking into you. He’d take such a good care of you. He’d fuck you so good, making you whimper and moan every time he’d hit your g-spot, he’d squeeze your ass in his big hands, leaving marks as a reminder of his touch. He’d kiss your skin, he’d kiss your neck and he wouldn’t even mind tasting the sweat caused by your rehearsals today, but in his mind, that’d be caused by what you two are doing.

Jungkook groaned and stroked himself, bringing his hand now to his base and tightening his grip around his girth. Throbbing, pulsating cock begging to release all his seed.

His movements were firm and clear, his fist moving so fast that his wrist was hurting, head falling back, mouth agape and eyebrows knitted together. The sound of his movements blended with the clatter of the water, his shoulders raising from time to time because of the heavy breathing, hips bucking against his hand. He wished it was you, the only part he’d seen of you, he desperately wished he was fucking your ass, so, so hard he’d make you whine and cry in pleasure. He imagined the sounds you’d made, and even though he didn’t even know how your voice sounded or how you looked, he already knew that it’d be his new favorite sound.

«Fuck» he groaned, fucking his cock in his hand even harder, moving his hips and meeting his hand halfway. He bit his lower lip, flesh aching and almost bleeding under his teeth, bringing his free hand to his heavy balls and massaging them. His pace fastened even more if it’s possible, his hips were snapping so hard into his hand picturing your ass in its place, he was so close he could taste it. He pictured your body bent over his bed, taking him so nicely, moaning out loud and clenching around his greedy cock, so needy and so damn wet for him.

«God, fuck» he growled, shoving fast into his hand. He wished he knew your face, he’d like to picture you taking his big cock in your lips. He already know they’d look so damn beautiful around his girth, gagging and drooling for him, he’d hold your head still and fuck himself into your pretty lips so good, letting you eat all of his seed.

That, that was what brung him to his apex. Abs contracting and rough breath, muscles tightening and eyes squinting, lips open letting out low groans.

«Fucking hell»

Hot white spatters stained his hand and chest as he rode his orgasm, keep shoving himself into his hand. The water washed away his seed, it disappeared so fast he didn’t even see it, and when he opened his eyes he took some time to catch his breath leaning against the wall behind him.

His mind went blank, for just a little. He couldn’t think of anything else than the idyllic orgasm he just had, just the thought of it made his cheeks flash red.

Then, the thoughts hit him. He didn’t even know your name, and here he was, masturbating over you. He was going to change that.

The second time Jungkook saw you he did  not rush out of his house thirty minutes earlier than he was supposed to. He couldn’t help but ask to himself what was going on with him, he certainly knew he never felt the need to see someone he didn’t even know. God, you didn’t even noticed him. Standing at the doorframe of your rehearsals room, looking at you move your body in such a charming way he swore he never see someone dance like that. Why were you in the last row? You deserved to be in the first one, that wasn’t fair. But, in that way he couldn’t see you, so he stored the information at the back of his mind. When you stopped your movements and you suddenly disappeared into the crowd, he again remembered to himself that he didn’t even know what he was doing.

Come on, was he really going to stand there for about other ten minutes and watch  you dance without doing nothing? He desperately wanted to know how your face looked, by now he could say he had a perfect picture of you in his head. And if he was right, you were probably the best thing he ever seen. 

Just the thought made him lick his lips, taking a deep nervous breath. He needed to talk to you. But what would he say? “Hi, I’ve been watching you dance”? Ew, definitely no. He tried to come up with other possibilities but his mind was totally blank, panic making his way through his thoughts and taking every part of him, leaving him only with sweaty hands and an adam’s apple gulping in his throat.

«Jungkook»

A voice made him turn, his gaze suddenly traveled to his right side.

«Oh, hey» he blurted out, Taehyung was staring at him with an arched eyebrow and inquisitive eyes.

«What were you doing?» the oldest one got closer, his hands in his pockets and a slight smile forming on his lips. Jungkook shook his head.

«Mh- I- waiting» he stuttered. His friend knitted his eyebrows looking at him for just a few seconds, then his gaze met the ballroom in front of them, where Jungkook’s was again scanning bodies, trying to find yours.

«Are you looking for someone?» Teahyung asked, receiving just a shake with his head from the youngest. But he knew better than that, he knew Jungkook well, maybe too much, he couldn’t even try to hide something from him.

When his eyes finally found you again, Teahyung knew it was you, he could just tell by the way he opened his lips, forming a little “oh”, his eyes never leaving your body.

«So you were waiting, uh?» he scoffed.

«Yes?» the maknae wanted to punch himself in the face, that was not supposed to come out as a question.

«Do you know her name?» Taehyung asked. He turned away in the blink of an eye, staring at him with wide eyes. It took him a few seconds to understand he’s been caught, but eventually he decided to just sigh and shake his head again. «Well, I know it» he shrugged like he had just said nothing. Jungkook looked at him with an unreadable expression, trying to understand if what he just heard was real or if he just imagined it. He studied Taehyung’s face like he was some kind of poem, carefully and thoughtfully, wisely looking for a hint to tell him he was just playing with him, but he really seemed serious.

«I can introduce her to you?» he turned to look at him, the youngest was playing with his fingers, eyes staring at the floor, all of his confidence seemed to fade away.

«Why?» he asked.

«What do you mean why?» Taehyung almost laughed at the maknae’s words, and he almost felt guilty. Almost.

«I- I don’t know...» he sighed. Why was he even acting like this? He wanted to talk to you, desperately wanted to know how your face looked like, his imagination was sending him crazy. How did he even ended up like this? He just saw you dance and his mind wasn’t his anymore, constantly wondering about your face. There was just something about you that was making him insanely curious.

«Oh, come on!» unexpectedly, the hyung grabbed him by his arm, making him almost loose his balance while dragging him into the room, taking big steps towards you. No one seemed to notice what was happening externally or inside of Jungkook, heart beating a mad pace, slippy hands like he just dipped them in the water, mind shocked and freaking out attempting to find anything, literally anything that could’ve helped him. Anything would’ve been good, anything for saving him from who knows what his mind was thinking, neither he could understand himself. He never felt more afraid to speak to someone in his life, he swore. Why was he even freaking out? He couldn’t find an answer in those few seconds that divided you from him, and he ended up behind you sooner than he realized. His body instantly tensed.

Teahyung, like the amazing friend he was, tapped your right shoulder, making sure to keep his grip tight on Jungkook’s arm, afraid he would’ve run away at the first opportunity. And he would’ve.

«Yes?» turning, you met the hyung gaze, two deep dark eyes staring at you, breath held in his throat. Damn, you were beautiful.

Oh, God.

That was the first thought that passed Jungkook’s mind when he finally saw your face, all of his fantasies immediately falling to the ground, breaking into a million pieces. He didn’t even know someone that beautiful could exist. His eyes staring at your face like some kind of piece of art. He definitely did not expect you to look like this, he did not see it coming. He thought you were beautiful, but God, not like this.

«Bye» that was the first and last word Taehyung blurted out, finally releasing Jungkook’s arm. Then, he simply walked away, like he did not just leave you two alone, like nothing. You raised your eyebrows, stunned by what just happened looking at the man head to the door and then simply disappear in the hallway. When you realized you were left with someone you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, shifting your gaze from the corridor to the man in front of you.

In that moment, Jungkook’s heart started beating even faster, if that was possible. His dark doe-eyes stared into yours for a few moments, not even blinking, mouth agape and breath caught in his throat. He looked like he just saw something... something really-

«Am I that ugly?» you blurted out.

When he realized you were actually talking to him, he felt the need to hide, run away, he wanted the earth to open under his feet and engulf him in. His cheeks flashed red, eyes finally starting to blink.

«No I-» his throat was dry, so he swallowed hard and tried to get a little bit of his nerve back.

«I-I just didn’t expect you to be like t-this»

What? Now he really wanted to hide, what the hell was he thinking? Nothing, his mind was totally blank. He didn’t even remember how to create an actually real sentence.

«Sorry?» you asked. Only then, he realized how your voice sounded, definitely lower than he thought. And he loved it.

«Uh- Oh God. I’m sorry»

And that was it, the end of your first conversation. Jungkook looked at your face for just a second more, than his legs did the job for him, he wasn’t even thinking straight, mind totally blown away and panic invading every rational part of him. He simply turned and started running away, disappearing in the hallway just like his friend did a matter of seconds before.

You grimaced, left standing in the rehearsals room, eyes following his tall and muscled figure until you were left with nothing but confusion.

What had just happened?

That was the second time Jungkook saw you.

He was drawing again, eyes fixated on the sheet in front of him, colors over colors over colors, sketches and shapes that apparently didn’t have any meaning. It was just a mess, overlapped lines with circles and circles with blurred shapes that he didn’t even know could exist.

He was desperately trying to take his mind off of what he had done, but it didn’t seem to work.

Probably, he was just taking everything too much to heart, and he knew that. He knew he was making a big deal of something stupid but he couldn’t help the way he was feeling.

Why did he have to act like that? Why did he walk away in that way? You possibly thought he was just some jerk playing around, and only that thought made him clench his jaw. But that was his last problem. Not only he did made you think he was an idiot, but he made you feel uncomfortable without even trying. The words you said and the sound of your voice kept on echoing in his mind like one of those stupid songs you can’t seem to send away.

Were you joking? Probably? Did he really made you think he was looking at you in that way cause you were ugly? God, you were way too far from that for him.

And above all of that, why did he even say something like that?

“I didn’t expect you to be like this”, God, what was he thinking about? And what did you think of that stupid sentence? Jungkook let out a low groan, the thoughts invading his head were making it impossible to focus on the drawing.

What the hell did Taehyung do? He said he was going introduce you to him, why did he left like that?

When Jungkook entered their rehearsal room the hyung simply smiled at him and winked in his way, like he had just made some kind of magic happen between you too. Well, it didn’t happen. Everything was just a fucking mess, and the biggest thing heaving on Jungkook’s shoulders was that that was the first time you ever saw him, the first impression you had about him. Now it was gonna be three times harder for him to even talk to you, let alone make a move on you. Jungkook didn’t even answer Tae’s wink, only wanting to end the rehearsals already and go straight home to drown into sleep. But it was late, and he certainly wasn’t sleeping.

Jungkook huffed letting his pencil hit the wooden table.

Was he going to try to change what happened or was he going to leave everything like that? Sure as hell, he wanted to know you. But he just couldn’t help himself, he never felt more frightened in his life to talk to a girl as now, and that feeling made him feel helplessly under pressure. What was he even going to say if every time he opened his mouth, all that was coming out were awkward words? Your face added to the sound of your voice made him look like a poor moron, and he knew deep inside of him that that was your effect on him. It was going to happen again, he knew it. He needed to find a way to not ridicule himself and not make you uncomfortable every time he opened his mouth.

«What?» Yoongi’s eyes have never been wider than now looking at Jungkook. Now, the maknae was desperately looking for advices, and he knew that Jimin and Yoongi were the right persons for this kind of situation.

«You really did that?» Jimin let his mouth hang open, eyebrows raised.

«Yes» Jungkook sighed «I don’t know what’s wrong with me, God.» Yoongi and Jimin looked at each other, both of their expressions stuttered by what the youngest had just told them. «How can I fix this? I mean I-»

«First, stop dwelling.» Yoongi interrupted his endless rambling, firm tone and eyes pointing directly in his. Jimin nodded. «You’re thinking too much. I mean, do you even think she noticed all of this? Are there any chances she probably already forgot your face?» his words made the maknae feel better for just a bunch of seconds. Maybe you already forgot him. It was a good thing, right?

«You think so?» why did he sound disappointed? Yoongi raised his eyebrows and nodded.

«And if she remembers you, all you need to do is go and talk to her, you can fix this Kookie» Jimin smiled at his friend.

«And say what?» his voice came out louder than he thought, almost breaking in the middle. He was just not that positive. He messed up, and there was something inside him telling him that that was not goin to be the last time.

«Anything?» Jimin made it seem so simple «I mean, anything is better than what you said» he added. Jungkook shook his head. «Sitting here is not gonna fix this» he said again, then taking a sip from his hot coffee.

«I can’t-» his voice suddenly stopped working, his throat holding the words in. His eyes shifted from the wall he was staring to to you, walking into the cafe on your high heels, jeans sticking to your legs like they were handmade just for you, a little bit of messy hair because of the wind running through the streets of the city, hanging from your shoulders. Eyes moving into the cafe like you were desperately looking for something, maybe someone.

«What? It’s her?» Jimin whispered, slightly stretching on the table to get the maknae’s attention. Yoongi simply avoided asking, he knew he wasn’t going to get any answer. So he just turned around looking for your figure in the crowded little shop. When he finally found you, he knew it was you. He had already saw you the other day, and he saw Jungkook’s pants too, but he kept it to himself.

Smirking, he stood up, eventually bringing back Jungkook from his own world. He watched his friend take long steps and cross the room, and his hands started to sweat again, even more than the day before. Yoongi surpassed you just a step before you were in line for the bar, almost making you step on him.

Rude.

Jungkook could already feel himself going crazy, him and Jimin staring at the scene in silence dying to know what Yoongi had in mind. He saw you stretch over his shoulder trying to take a look at the pastry, in the meantime Yoongi stepped towards when another client left the line. Time seemed to slow down for how much it was taking for every single client to order, Jungkook’s agitation growing bigger every second.

When Yoongi’s turn arrived he still couldn’t understand what was going to happen, watching him through the crowd and shifting his gaze from him to you from time to time was definitely not working. He caught Yoongi talking to the employee and a second later he was paying and turning around with who the hell knows what in his big paper cup. Keeping his eyes on the floor and faking distraction, he stepped on your foot and when he raised his head all he did was giving you a shocked look.

Then he did it, making the maknae line wide their eyes like they were four lighthouses, Jungkook literally hold his breath for what it seemed to be like years. His drink was on your clothes, soaking you, your drenched black shirt dripping on the floor. Your face shattered when you realized you were actually soggy, Yoongi gave you an apologetic smile and then he walked out of the cafe as if nothing had just happened. He really hoped Jungkook would understand it was his turn. Well, again, he didn’t. He just stared at you, your face still in shock and your moth forming the shape of an “o”, people surpassing you on the line without even glancing at you. Jimin shook him awake from his trance making him grimace and pushing him from his chair.

«Go, go, go!» he silently screamed moving his hands in the air. “Oh, lord” was all he could think while looking at you standing still and a scared Jungkook walking uncertain.

You stepped to the side when you noticed people kept on surpassing you giving you upset looks since you wouldn’t move from the line, it only took you a few steps to the side to rush into someone. Your shoulder hit his chest and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. It was just not your day.

«I- I’m sorry?» the voice came from beside you, the man standing still against your right shoulder without even moving. What was supposed to be a statement came out as a question and Jungkook wanted to punch himself again. You had to back away to create a little bit of distance before lifting your gaze to him.

When you saw him, it took you nothing to remember him.

«You? Again?» you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You were not this rude usually, you just weren’t that type. But today definitely wasn’t your day. First, someone surpassed you, you just said nothing because you weren’t the type to argue for something so stupid, you even justified him thinking maybe he didn’t notice you. Then he spilled his tea on you, and without even helping you he just ran off as if nothing had happened. Now, him. Was this some kind of joke?

Jungkook couldn’t help but frown at your words, silently and slowly making their way through his body until they reached his intestine and tangled every part of his guts together.

«I- I’m sorry?» he said again. What? You locked eyes with him, cocking a brow at him.

«What are you even sorry for?» you sighed, bending over the table in front of you and grabbing a tissue from the plastic container. He brought his gaze to his friend, eyes still wide and throat completely dried. Jimin showed him a thumb up and suddenly shifted his gaze, in a second he turned around with his cheeks now red. When Jungkook turned again he hissed through his teeth, you did not just caught them and you weren’t staring at him with an even more confused look.

«I- I can buy you some coffee?» he blurted out, his voice cracking in the middle of the question making it almost seem like a prayer. Your lips formed an “o” again, suddenly looking down at your clothes and rushing to clean them with that little tissue. You were just thankful it wasn’t hot, whatever thing it was. Jungkook stood there still like a rock, scared of moving and making everything even worse.

«No, but thank you.» you sighed at the sight of your drenched black shirt, drops on your jeans. What were you going to do now? You had to go to work in thirty minutes, you didn’t have time to go back home and change into something else, your boss was already going crazy with all the work he had to, his reaction at your delay wasn’t something you wanted to experience.

«Please?» Jungkook’s voice seemed to light something in you, lifting your eyes and locking them again with his. That was the moment you really noticed his beauty. And he was just that beautiful. In the meantime, he was really trying not to break out and scream, his tongue was just moving by itself. His mind was totally blank and his hands were so sweaty that they would probably as wet as the shirt you were wearing.

«I don’t have time for coffee now, but thank you.» you declined again, trying to bring a smile on your lips but failing. You sighed and turned, making your way out of the cafe in a matter of seconds. Jungkook stood there with his eyes still wide, watching you walk away and trying to catch just that little bit of air enough to make him survive. It was only when Jimin’s face appeared in front of him that he seemed to realize you weren’t there anymore, and in a second his legs made the work for him again, running out of the cafe like a mad man. What was he even doing? What the hell?

Jimin followed him rolling his eyes, all his hopes that his friend had made it hitting the ground. He had never seen Jungkook like that, not even when he dated that girl he had a crush on for a year. Jungkook had always been charming, he never had that much problems with a girl, there had been times he was more shy, but he had always found a way of breaking his barriers.

This time there was just something different.

When he saw you on the sidewalk his legs fastened even more and he only stopped when he was behind you, quickly grabbing at your wrist and turning you around in an abrupt yank that got Jimin to stuck on place and grimace. He even heard you squint from where he was, and he certainly didn’t miss the smack of your hand on his face once you turned and faced him.

Jungkook’s face heated up, suddenly loosening his grip on your skin and blinking a few times, staring into your eyes, his features unreadable. Silence suddenly seemed to fill the crowded street while you two looked at each other, your face looking regretful the second you realized it was him and not someone who was trying to steal your purse or rape you during full day.

Jungkook was at a loss of words, and when he realized now he had to say something, he panicked again.

«I’m sorry?» that was not happening again, he wanted to scream.

«You’re sorry?» you erupted like a volcano, your arm still in the air even thought his grip was no longer on it. Jungkook’s head slowly shook up and down, gulping harshly.

«What are you sorry for?» your question made him knit his eyebrows. Was it really so hard for him to form a real sentence? The answer was yes. His brain just didn’t seem to work.

«About the coffe?» now, he really wanted to scream and tear his hair out.

He had just scared you and hurt you and all he managed to say was “about the coffee”? What was that even supposed to mean?

«The coffee?» you narrowed your eyes at him, he brung his hand to the back of his neck scratching it.

«The drink?» he said again. For god sake.

«Uh?» you just couldn’t understand. What was he even trying to do? He was sorry? Everything was just so confusing, and if last night you thought just a little bit about what happened yesterday with him, you were sure this was going to be in your head for the rest of the day.

«The drink Yoongi spilled on you?» why was every single one of his sentences a question?

«Who is Yoongi?» you whined without even thinking, but then you grasped it. The rude man was someone he knew. Was something wrong with his friends? First that one yesterday, now this Yoongi.

«Yoongi is-» Jungkook seemed to realize what he had just done and he stopped talking, letting out a tremulous breath. He just told you he knew the man who basically ruined your day. Great job.

«So, are your friends all like this?» you didn’t even know what you were doing, but the stress was just too much to handle at that moment. The man stared at you again, eyes shifting to every feature of your face.

«Uh? Wha- what?» he babbled. Jungkook was loosing it. And Jimin could see it from a block away. He wished he could do something to help him, anything to save the situation, but he just couldn’t. What would he even say, anyway? “Sorry, he just likes you so much that he doesn’t even remember how a normal human acts”? That wasn’t going to work.

«Are you friend with this Yoongi?» you asked. Jungkook nodded slowly, almost uncertain of what he was doing.

«And the one from yesterday was also your friend?» you asked again. This time he frowned, making you narrow your eyes.

«Taehyung?» he wondered, confusion blinking in his eyes.

«I don’t know, maybe? Was it his name? The one that poked me and ran away?» you sighed.

«But he- Oh. I can’t-» Reality hit him, and he had to take a deep breath to stop his dwelling.

«What?»

«I’m- I’m sorry?» there he was again. Was he kidding you? Just when he seemed to know other words, they were there again.

«You already said it, even though it doesn’t seem like you are.» you were really going crazy. Late for work, drenched, without your breakfast and with a charming guy talking nonsense in front of you.

«I am» his voice came out louder than expected, making you unconsciously squint and ward off a little bit.

«Well, thank you, I guess?» you glanced at the sidewalk, then again bringing your gaze to his face. The way the light of the sun hit his eyes made yours stare deep into them, the black pupils and irises almost fading with each other, the little sparkles of the light reflecting in them made them seem like one of the darkest nights, but with the brightest stars you’ve ever seen.

Your mouth ran dry when your gaze met his lips, a soft glow making them look even more captivating, you wondered if he was wearing a lip balm, a part of your mind wondering how it’d taste.

«I’m gonna be late for work» you mumbled. Jungkook shook his head.

«Okay» What? Are you serious, Jungkook? Okay? He visually grimaced at his own words, and for god knows why the corners of your lips raised up just the slightest at his awkwardness.

«I should go now» you gave him a little gentle smile and then turned, finally heading to your car. You had just taken a few steps on the sidewalk across the street when you turned away and realized he was standing still, eyes still fixated on you, but he wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe a friend of his? You hoped he wouldn’t hit you in the head, given the others. You crossed the street again, walking back towards the man and glancing at the ground feeling your cheeks reddening under his sight. 

You stopped a few steps away from him, raising your head and finally facing him. «I’m sorry too» you said, slightly smiling. «You know, for the slap» his lips formed an “o” but he quickly managed to smile, for the first time. And lord, what a smile he had. You swore you never saw something that beautiful. Your breath got stuck in your throat, heart madly beating in your chest, threatening to come out. And you didn’t even noticed, but your smile became a real one, wide and shining with its own light and reaching your eyes. Jungkook’s heart skipped a few beats just at the sight, his legs shaking under his body and a sudden feeling of warmth invading his chest, it was like his guts were back in place.

A drop of rain hit your forehead and in that moment you realized you really had to go, rain wasn’t something you could deal with now, not with your already soaked shirt and your delay. So you just turned again and walked away.

That was the first time you and Jungkook actually spoke to each other, kind of, I guess you could say.

«Didn’t you two talk?» Yoongi asked running a hand in his blonde locks. There they were again, but this time, thankfully Jungkook would say, they were in his house. He really didn’t know how to handle another one of his friends’ mishaps in your presence, not that he would’ve met you anyway, but here he felt more comfortable. It was normal for them to meet at someone’s place on a Friday night, it’s something they’ve always been doing for a long time that now it was like a tradition. Every Friday they would met and talk, even though they’ve been seeing each other almost every day. And now, it was no difference. Or maybe just one. You. Jungkook wasn’t talking about how much he was excited to perform or how much he loved the new choreography, he was talking about how embarrassing that moment was. Wait, those moments. Thanks to Taehyung, Yoongi and himself, now he had collected a few moments that really made everything seem awkward.

«We did but...» he groaned «Why did you have to spill your drink on her?»

«For you to go help her?» Yoongi made it seem so simple.

«How could I have helped her with her soaked shirt? She had to go to work and you ruined her morning. And if it wasn’t enough now she knows I know you! And you!» Jungkook’s voice cracked in the middle while pointing his accusing index finger towards Yoongi and Taehyung.

«What? How?» Yoongi couldn’t believe his ears. He gave him a chance and he let it slip through his hands like it was a cool chunk of ice.

«He told her» Jimin got in the conversation briefly glancing at his youngest friend. Jungkook was really going crazy.

«And? What’s the end? Tell me you got her number?» Jin rested his forearms on his knees, waiting for an answer that just wasn’t meant to come out.

«You don’t even know her name, do you?» the maknae brung is gaze to Taehyung, his dark eyes almost seemed to surrender in front of all the mess of the situation. The friend sighed, guilt already invading his throat. When he pushed Jungkook in that situation, he thought he was gonna handle it, to him he just needed a little bit of motivation. He didn’t think it would’ve ended like this. He shook his head.

«Great.» Jungkook stood up, unreadable features and body tense.

«But at the end it was good, she smiled at you» Jimin helplessly tried to bring back a little bit of positivity.

«Yes, after I made everything uncomfortable and awkward. How am I even supposed to make a move after what happened? First Teahyung, then Yoongi. Then me!» he bursted out. «The first time was already hideous, but this? I hurt her, let her know that basically all my friends are weird and when she said “I’m gonna be late for work” my answer was “okay”. Who am I even kidding? I-»

«Oh, come on!» Joonie decided to open his mouth, his loud tone made Jungkook shut up, everyone now looking at him. «This is all in your head, Kookie. Stop it. You need to take a deep breath and face this in a different way. Clearly, shutting your mind off and letting your body do the work it’s not what you need.» he raised his eyebrows at him. Jungkook had started pacing, he really wanted to fix things, but every time it seemed to get worse and worse and worse and... worse.

«It’s so frustrating, I swear! It never happened to me, never. I can’t control it, my brain just doesn’t work when I’m with her» he groaned locking his dark locks in his fist and pulling a little.

«Oh, cheesy» Hobi wrinkled his nose receiving in exchange a death stare from Jungkook.

«So you don’t even know her name?» Jin seemed to realize his words only now, eyes wide and moth hanging open. Jungkook clenched his jaw before letting his body falling to the couch. Not even the soft material of the cushions seemed to make him feel better, not even the slightest.

«I don’t know her name» he answered, saying those words more to himself than to his hyung. All of this seemed so stupid.

«Then start from it. Give to this beautiful woman a beautiful name, you can’t keep rambling about someone for about an hour without even knowing their name.» Namjoon’s tone was firm, making its way through the maknae’s ears, his words seemed like playing with him. He was right, he didn’t even knew your name, how the hell was that possible? He had the biggest crush and didn’t know the basics.

What Jungkook didn’t know and never could imagine was that you were thinking about him in the same moment as he was talking about you to his friends. What happened that morning was still replaying in your mind like a short film, from the moment that Yoongi spilled what you figured out was tea on your clothes to the moment you headed to your car. There was something about that awkward meeting that you just couldn’t seem to shake off. That man was so awkward and charming at the same time that the match sounded both weird and interesting.

Still, you couldn’t hide your annoyance towards him that morning. You couldn’t quite discern if he was just playing with you or if there was a meaning behind his actions and words, I mean, he apologized for his friend so much but he didn’t really act different than him, he yanked you. And apparently without any meaning. He already apologized for Yoongi before, so why follow someone you don’t even know to do it again?

Remembering your slap against his cheek you unconsciously squint your eyes, drowning in the dark. You really wouldn’t have punched him if you knew it was him, but the moment you felt someone’s touch against your skin you panicked. Not that he didn’t deserve it, well, actually he didn’t, but you don’t usually punch people like that, you really thought someone wanted to steal your purse or rape you, You puffed.

You just wished to not bump into him or his friends again, or at least to not be the main character of their misfortunes again.

Summer was finally coming to an end, and with the end of a season comes the beginning of a new wardrobe, at least for you. You already had clothes for the imminent autumn but with all the money you had saved you could squander a little bit and reward yourself, you worked hard and didn’t even leave for the holidays this year, sad but true. So now you were lowly humming in the street without even realizing it, the music invading all of your senses, the melody taking control of your body like it was made of a thin sheet of glass that could be broken anytime with the slightest pressure.

You entered the shop and removed an earphone, slowly making your way through the crowd and getting ready to buy something as a reward for all of your sacrifices. The sight of the soft fabric of a white dress made your eyes sparkle and your feet started moving towards the mannequin like they were apart from your body, bringing your hand to the cloth you touched the smooth material.

There was no way you were not buying it.

The shape seemed perfect for your body, you could already see yourself wearing it so you were quick to cross the room, ready to grab your hanger. Apparently, not quick enough, but you didn’t notice right away.

Looking through the dresses for your size made you frown, everyone of them either too big or too small. You were almost giving up when your gaze met the tag you were looking for, eyes widening and happiness already creeping up in your body.

Then, a hand came in the way. You watched it grab the crutch, dark ink marking the light golden skin, long fingers closing around the hook. Your breath got stuck in your throat and you really felt all your hopes falling to the ground now. Sure you were not gonna argue with whoever just took away your dream dress, you didn’t even have the right to do it, you should have been quicker before rather than staring at it with dreamy eyes. You were already starting to turn and look for something else with a knot in your throat but you couldn’t help your eyes and followed the arm of the stranger, the skin almost glowing under the light of the shop. You met two broad shoulders, the cleavage of the light shirt he was wearing showing his collar bones and making your fingers tingle at the sight, but if you knew who was waiting for you at the end of that neck you would have already ran away.

The previous night after his friends left Jungkook had spent at least three hours trying to find a way to make a third impression on you, if that was possible, this time preferably good, and he figured out nothing. Eventually he felt asleep all tensed and annoyed, remembering the next morning he had to buy something for Namjoon’s birthday coming in exactly two weeks.

When he woke up today and headed to the shop three blocks away from his house he did not expect to find you there. From the moment he saw you at least a hundred of different emotions had run through his body, starting from worship and ending up with panic, but this time his mind didn’t switch off, or maybe not at all. Listlessly choosing something for Namjoon, Jungkook came up with a plan, and it was apparently clear: buy you a dress and give it to you as both a present and an apology for everything that happened the day before, from Yoongi’s drink on you to the way he kept on making things awkward, and maybe finally ask you out.

So when he saw you staring at that dress with dreamy eyes he instantly walked towards its reproductions, sure as hell that now he had something to work with in his hands. But it was only when you approached the same counter as him that he realized he didn’t have any clue about your clothing size. I mean, he could have guessed it, but it wouldn’t have been the same. He was supposed to ask you and tell you something like “let me offer this to you for making up for yesterday’s mess” and “would you like to hang out sometimes?” but when he tried to speak his voice got stuck in his throat, his hands badly sweating. So he tried to understand what you were looking for, careful not to get caught, and possibly keeping it in mind for buying you something else, and it all worked until he saw your eyes full of that joyful light again. In that moment, his heart skipped a beat as he understood you had found what you wanted.

As I said, this time his brain didn’t stop working, he knew he couldn’t grab the dress practically from your hands, that would’ve been the worst third impression of all times. He just needed to remember the measures printed on that little tag and look for something else. He knew but his hands moved by themselves and Jungkook felt himself stiffening again.

When you locked eyes with him you couldn’t help but snort. What was going on with the universe? You were sure you didn’t do anything that bad to deserve this. And why was he involved in all of your misadventures? Him, him, him, him and him again, couldn’t at least the gods send someone else once in a while to punish you? The fact that it was him made the knot in your throat grow even bigger and you instantly felt a flame of anger burning in your chest. If he was someone else you would’ve probably let go, but not with him and not when he was holding the dress you wanted to buy after long days and late nights of work, stress and a little bit of panic too.

So you did the first thing that came to your mind, you grabbed at the hanger he was holding in his other hand and immediately walked away leaving him with his mouth agape and his gaze digging holes in your body.

You turned the corner and went straight to the changing room, desperately trying to keep yourself from bursting out in the middle of the shop. You closed the curtain behind you and finally took a look at what you were holding. A men’s hoodie. You were going to buy it, wether you liked it or not. Not a big deal, you already had men’s clothes in your wardrobe, right?

Taking a deep breath you sat on the little couch in the fitting room, you were really starting to think he was playing with you. That had to be it. He was just enjoying himself, having fun with making you feel like an idiot. Unintentionally, some tears streamed down you cheeks, all the accumulated stress from work and from the rehearsals you were having almost every day, all the sleepless nights you had in the last three months trying to save money, some days even working your ass off until the first lights of the morning would appear, all the times you felt like you didn’t belong; everything was coming out in the shape of little drops. You hadn’t been crying for a long time and stopping now seemed like light years away, so you got up and went out of the dressing room heading to the checkout without even glancing around.

Jungkook was still in the same place you had left him, and when he saw your cheeks sparkling just in time before you could wipe the tears away he knew it wasn’t because of the sweat this time. His heart broke, features screaming nothing but regret. If only you had turned around you would have seen it even from there.

But instead, you paid your new hoodie and went out, ready to burst out once again you’d be surrounded by the safe walls of your apartment.

«God, I can’t believe it» Jungkook groaned again for about the tenth time since the beginning of the phone call.

Jimin and Namjoon had been meticulously chosen for today’s vent, and this time he was sure he had something real to ramble on about, it wasn’t all in his head anymore. He had made you cry.

«It was the worst third impression of all times! My plan was good, damn, why do I have to be like this around her? Every single time, it happens every damn time» he hissed through his teeth. On the other line, Jimin was staring at his white ceiling with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed, trying to help his friend as best as he could, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Jungkook had to fix this, again. And Namjoon felt the same way as he took a sip of his coffee, his hair still messy from the long sleep he had just awakened from.

«I know you don’t need to hear it, but you’re the worst suitor on earth» he blurted out rubbing his face with his hands. «How can you expect to be more to her than an awkward weirdo if you can’t even talk or act normally in her presence? At least did you get her name?» Namjoon knew his words were doing nothing but emphasizing the horrible situation but he just couldn’t contain himself anymore. Jungkook didn’t need to be pitied, it would have led him nowhere. The maknae grunted in frustration. That was the only answer Joonie needed.

«Stop everything you’re doing» his words made Jungkook frown.

«What?»

«I said stop everything you’re doing» he repeated again, then taking another sip from his coffee. The youngest stared at the screen in disbelief.

«I am doing nothing!» his high-pitched tone made Jimin squint his eyes.

«Okay, then come to my place for lunch and bring that freaking dress with you» he ordered, now getting up and putting his mug in the sink.

«Can I-»

«Yes, Jimin, no need to ask» the hyung interrupted his friend already expecting his question.

«I’m gonna shower, but please be careful with that dress Kook» Namjoon’s tone softened and his words almost sounded like a prayer, Jungkook couldn’t help but glance at the piece of cloth laying on his couch with a worried face. That was not the right place for it.

«Okay, I got it, I got it» he said more to himself than to his friend.

«See you later» Namjoon got off the phone in a second, already on his way to the bathroom.

«Kookie, I know you can do it, okay? We can’t do more than what we are already doing, we can’t fix this for you, you have to fix it. But we’re here to support you.» Jimin’s words gave birth to a bittersweet smile on Jungkook’s face and he internally thanked God for his friends.

«Thank you Chimin»

They talked for another ten minutes before finally getting off the phone, Kookie’s eyes shifting again to what was supposed to be your dress now and shutting down.

He needed to fix this, again.

«So?» Jimin patted his fingers on the wooden table moving his gaze between his three friends. Unexpectedly Taehyung had knocked on Namjoon’s door just before they were about to sit down and have lunch with an expression that promised nothing but bad news.

«I wanted to buy you something for making up for what happened yesterday and the day before, but apparently I screwed up again. This is for you.» Jungkook repeated for the fourth time, then reached his hand out on the table, his chopsticks holding an amount of chicken noodles not even possible to put in his mouth. Namjoon opened his all of a sudden and gobbled them in just one gulp, making Jungkook frown.

«You just ate her dress!» Jimin bursted out laughing at the scene in front of his eyes, the corners wrinkling, his melodious laugh even took over Taehyng’s brooding face, the hyung smiled like a baby.

«I’m hungry and it was the third time he was doing that! He practically saw it coming!» he claimed, already taking with his chopsticks another amount of inhumanly impossible food to eat.

«You have yours!» the maknae tried to sound as serious as he could but his smile fooled him.

«Don’t bother me, I’m feeding you and giving you advices, this is the least you could do in return.» he mocked him with a new beaming smile on his face, Kook shook his head and took a bite of his meal.

«I think it could work?» Jimin brung the conversation back to where it was supposed to be, glancing at Tae and Joonie.

«Just try to stick to that» Taehyung said nodding «and don’t forget to breathe. And please, don’t panic again.» he added. Kookie nodded, this time had to be good. «You think you can do that?»

«I have to» he sighed, already feeling under pressure. Jimin and Namjoon smiled at him, trying to reassure him.

«Alright, now Taehyung could you tell us what’s wrong?» the hyung suddenly shifted his gaze to the other maknae seated next to Kook, who raised his eyebrows and shook his head faking a smile. «Come on, we can see it. Tell your favorite therapists what’s wrong and let us help you.» Jimin nodded at his words.

«Alright, I...» Taehyung took a deep breath, his long slender fingers ran through his hair and fisted a dark strand, slightly tugging it.

«Oh my God, this is so hard to say out loud» he groaned. Now, if there was a tiny possibility that they’re friends weren’t worried about him, his words certainly did their job.

«TaeTae, come on» Jimin widened his eyes.

«Alright. Do you all remember Gillyflower?» his words only brung more confusion to their faces. «The girl with pink hair?» he tried again, and this time a bunch of “ooh” and “yes” made him nod. He took another deep breath. 

«Well, I asked her out and she was about to answer when Tannie suddenly started barking and puling at the leash. I tried to mke him stop but he kept getting worse to the point he yanked me. I- I stumbled and trying to grab onto something I...» he harshly gulped, silence invaded the room.

«What did you do? It can’t be worse than what I did, right?» Jungkook’s doe-eyes were staring at his friend’s face trying to catch a hint of his actions.

«I don’t know, it’s the first time something like this awkward happens between of us, but it’s just...» he puffed letting his shoulders fall and then again shaking his head.

«What?» Namjoon were desperate to know now.

«I groped her breasts. But I was just trying to hold onto something and- Oh my God this is the worst thing I could have ever done» he groaned and hid his face behind his hands trying to cover his cheeks flashing red. Jungkook’s eyes considerably widened, Jimin’s lips formed the perfect shape of an “o” and Joonie shut his eyes , almost forgetting how to swallow. Almost.

«What did you do after that? Tell me you apologized, tell me you did it?» Chimin’s gaze was basically begging him.

«Of course I did, but I was still shocked and... I may have left my hands on her for too much time» his voice was muffled by his hands, still covering his reddish face.

«Oh, God» Jimin let out, tilting his head back. «What the hell is happening to us?» he whined, earning a death stare from Namjoon.

«You mean what the hell is happening to you? This things don’t happen to me, luckily.» he stated.

«Oh, please Joon, your face is dirty for all the eggs you have on it. You know you have your bag stuffed with blunders» Jimin whined again and Namjoon pointed his index towards him.

«That wasn’t supposed to come out!» he argued.

«It didn’t! But I’ll blurt out all of your secrets if you don’t admit you can be a weirdo too!» the hyung puffed.

«Please, everyone knows I’m an oddball, there’s no need to argue on that. But my blunders are far beneath theirs!» he pointed at Jungkook and Teahyung the youngest was now trying not burst out laughing for his high-pitched tone. Jimin groaned.

«What was her answer?» Jungkook asked, carefully looking at TaeTae. He gulped.

«She started laughing and I apologized myself again before entering home. I thought she was making fun of me but I realized it was an uncomfortable laugh just after I shut the door. Now every time I see her in the hallway I hide behind the corners and avoid her. She must think I’m an idiot.» Teahyung’s words made Jungkook feel slightly better, maybe it was selfish but he felt less lonely.

«You need to talk to her» Namjoon mumbled with his mouth stuffed of noodles.

«We’ll make up a speech for you too after lunch, alright?» Tae shook his head.

«No need for it, I can handle it. I think» he sighed for the hundredth time.

The Sunday that followed got Jungkook incredibly frustrated. In two days it was gonna be his birthday and he and his friends had all agreed to take a day off from the devastating rehearsals to celebrate it together, so now there he was,  meticulously watching his figure dancing in the mirror. He hadn’t slept well and his eyes were praying for just a bunch of minutes of rest, body already tired only after an hour of movement. When the music stopped he thanked Jin with a grateful smile before approaching the bench on the side of the room to grab his towel and gather his sweat.

«I think this-»

«Kookie!» Jimin shouted with his eyes wide, his voice echoed in every single corner of the room and in a second Jungkook realized why. He didn’t really do it, please.He let his hand fall at his side, and yes, there it was. Your dress in his hand, now moist and clammy.

His voice burst in the loudest tone he’ve ever used: «Who the hell pulled it out of my bag?!»

The group immediately got closer to take a look at what he was talking about, Namjoon and Taehyung held their breath when the maknae opened the folded cloth revealing the white peace of dressing he had carefully putted in his bag just in case he’d met you here, even though it was quite impossible being Sunday.

«Oh my God, I thought it was a towel and-» Jin started explain himself but got interrupted again by Jungkook’s low groan.

«I am screwed, I give up.» his chest swelled like a balloon and his shoulder raised almost to his ears just to heavily fall a second later. «If this isn’t fate then I don’t know what it is» he complained letting his body go limp after he seated on the bench. And as if what had just happened wasn’t enough his eyes caught your figure in the hallway, your body managing to move graciously on your high heels even though at a speed that seemed almost impossible for you not to fall, your hair swinging with every step.

«Bad luck?» Hobi kneeled in front of him and Jungkook scoffed, shifting his gaze on his muscled legs once you disappeared behind the corner, his dark locks creating a curtain to hide him from the rest of the world while he rested his elbows on his knees.

«Bad luck? This is a tragedy. And not just because of the dress. Everything I did until now is a tragedy. This is just the cherry on top of it all. Maybe this is just not meant to happen and that’s why I keep messing things up.» he grumbled with raspy voice. And he really believed that for a moment, maybe he was right. Everything, every single thing he had done so far had just messed things up more, even though he was desperately trying to do the opposite. He still didn’t know your name but had however already managed to made you feel uncomfortable, hurt you and made you cry. What a charming suitor he was. At this point he could’ve-

«If thinking about it like this makes you feel better.» Namjoon spoke with his gaze on the maknae. He licked his lips and waited for Kookie to raise his head, but it didn’t happen. «You don’t have the dress, who cares? It’s a peace of cloth, Kook. Your apologies are more important and you still have your speech. You can do it.» he kneeled in front of him beside Hobi, finally catching his gaze. What he didn’t expect was to actually find his eyes shining because of the stressed tears he was desperate to hold.

«He’s right, Kookie. Come on, you’re the golden maknae. And if it goes wrong we’ll have finally found something you’re not good at» Jin smiled at his youngest friend, his words made him lightly giggle, Yoongi nudged him.

«Just try again, okay?» Hobi smiled at him and Jungkook had to take a few moments for himself to finally answer.

Probably, no, wait, sure as hell the easiest thing was to give up. You already had a clear picture of him by now, there was no way you were changing your mind with just an apology. He had already apologized for at least five times the other day, and he had made you cry the day right after. So the possible answers now were two: yes or no. Such a big difference between them but such a thin line for him, especially now that he had lost the only thing that maybe would’ve helped him. He didn’t want lie to himself, he knew it was easier to give up and go back to being a normal acting human, not embarrassing himself anymore and feeling like an idiot all the time. But it was too easy like that, and just the thought made him frown. He couldn’t explain what it was to himself, but there was something about you that made him fatally, hopelessly curious. Since the very first moment he saw you, something turned on inside him, and I’m not just talking about his cock.

«Okay» he whispered to himself, the air of his breath fanning the golden skin of his hands. He took a deep breath and stood up.

«What?» Yoongi asked looking at him. Jungkook nodded.

«Okay, but you promise me you won’t do anything?» he pointed his finger against Yoongi’s face and then moved it back and forth pointing at everyone of them. When they all nodded Jungkook knew it was the moment to leave the room. 

Jimin pursued his lips when he saw him walking towards the door and quickly sided him. «Wait, you’re doing it now? Is she here? It’s Sunday!» he spoke so fast and his tone changed so many times that Kook turned to face him with an amused smile, almost forgetting about what he was about to do. «Do you remember the speech?» he asked again. When Kookie nodded and finally left the room Chimin stayed still with his gaze on him, acting like a mummy leaving her little child for the first time to the kindergarten.

«He can do it» Yoongi patted his shoulder.

You weren’t supposed to be there, not on a Sunday morning when all you wanted to do was drown in your bed and never let go of your sheets without the clock pointing at least at eleven. But you didn’t have any choice when you realized what day it was. It wasn’t just an usual Sunday, your family was coming at your place for lunch in about two hours from now, and you had promised them to cook something special, or at least to try your best. You were already feeling under pressure and your parents weren’t exactly the definition of easy-going people, always ready to judge everything you would do and every step you’d take. No wonder why you’ve grown to be their total opposite, never daring to judge anyone, and you knew they hated it. But you didn’t care and kept doing your thing, without worrying too much. Luckily, distance had made everything so much easier, until this kind of moments. The stress was running through your blood like it was part of your body, you were practically on the edge. You really didn’t want to hear them complaining about your stupid passion and how you should stop chasing your dreams just to find an even more steady job than the one you already had, so you had quickly decided to bring your gym bag here. You had grabbed everything you could find in your house that could have led their thoughts to your athletic side and just stuffed all in the bag now hanging from your shoulder, from your pointe shoes to your sweat shorts.

The lockers were safe and you knew it because you had already done this at least five or six times, so you simply opened the steel door and placed your bag in it with loose motions before shutting it and locking it with you keys. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The stress of your job, the rehearsals, all the money you wanted to save to buy your house and what happened in the last days were hovering on your mind so much that you knew you would have bursted out if you had to worry about your parents too. So this was the easiest way.

Heading to the door you fastened you pace until you got out, the sun made your skin burn and you harshly puffed, already wishing the winter to come.

At the same time, Jungkook was looking for you in the whole building, he even took the stairs and went to second floor once he figured out you weren’t in your usual rehearsal room. He thought you’d be in the changing rooms but he couldn’t afford himself to the risk of finding you half naked, even though the picture of you he had in mind was making his mouth drier every second more while taking the stairs again. It was when he distractedly looked out of the window that he saw you crossing the street. His feet never ran faster than that moment, praying for you to stay on the main street so that he’d found you more easily. He crossed the hallway and made his friend’s heads turn when he rushed in front of their door, that stupid speech replaying in his head over and over again like a prayer.

«Oh man» Namjoon covered his eyes with his right hand at the sight.

Once the maknae was out of the building he welcomed the light of the sun by squinting his eyes, his already sweating body heated up even more while desperately trying to get to you. The street was not that crowded at this time of the morning with the sun almost at his highest spot and the hot breeze threatening whoever was out, so he thought he could make it. Then, he saw you stopping on the sidewalk. Maybe you noticed him? Impossible.

A second later you were opening the door of a taxi and he didn’t know if rather laugh about his bad luck or cry. He could’ve just let go and talk to you the next day, you were definitely going to rehearsal on Monday, or maybe even on Tuesday. But it’s Jungkook we’re talking about, and by now we all know a part of his brain seemed to switch off when it comes to you. Or maybe this time, it turned on. The stress he felt those days had built up so much that he just wanted to burst out once and for all. He was tired of dwelling about his clumsiness and weirdness when he was beside you and didn’t want to feel guilty for making you feel uncomfortable anymore. So he sped up, his legs almost gave in for the big gap he wanted to close in a matter of seconds. 

But he made it. He knocked at your window with his fist, hands sweating and chest raising desperately gasping for air. When you turned and squinted your eyes because of the light of the sun he again swore he had never seen something, someone that beautiful in his life, the rays of sunshine painting little sparkling stars in your pupils and your skin gleaming.

You knitted your eyebrows at the sight, the charming but odd man staring at you as if he had just seen who knows what. What did he want now? You didn’t have time for his teasing, not with all of the things you had to do before the hurricane that your parents were would show up and take over you for the next hours.

«Please» he managed to say, or at least he mouthed it, and a part of him thanked your shut window for not giving him away, but just a little part. If hearing the lack of his voice would’ve made you listen then he would’ve talked with his hands.

With everything he did he was not really expecting you to listen to him, not when he was making things awkward once again, not in this situation. He was hoping it with all of his heart, but he knew it was not going to happen. Indeed, it didn’t happen.

The taxi started and you fixated your gaze on the street without a second thought, already brushing away the weird feeling that his gaze made you feel. You checked your phone screen: 11.34. Great. You were praying every god in heaven to save you from your parents’ likely early arrive when a thump made you both frown and hit the backrest with your head harshly enough to wince. You realized your taxi just hit the one in front of him in a second. Someone was definitely mad at you.

That was Jungkook’s moment. He widened his eyes at the sight and rushed on the sidewalk before he quickly approached your cab. His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he feared for his life. He opened your door without a second thought, you were hissing through your breath, eyes shut and pursued lips. While he took in the sight you felt a gentle hot breeze on your skin. Opening your eyes you gasped when you saw him standing there. Definitely really, really mad.

«I can’t do this» you bursted out loud, more to yourself than to the men that now were both staring at you.

«It’ll only take ten minutes» the cab driver gently smiled at you. The poor man then brung his gaze to the other standing at your door, holding it so tight with his hand that his knuckles were white. You tried to fake a smile as best as you could.

«I’m sorry but I’m running out of time, I’m gonna make it on foot.» you claimed. Before waiting for any answer you shifted your gaze back to the man who was blocking you into the car, his body stiff and not giving you hits of movement. You waited for something, anything, but he just kept staring at you making you feel like a fish out of water and you didn’t have time to deal with his awkward behavior now, you were really late. So you stood up anyway, almost stepping on his toes, and you held your breath while making your way through his body and the car. The way he kept his dark doe-eyes into yours without any sign of backing off made you shiver.

Jungkook harshly gulped when your body slightly touched his, his skin tickled at the feeling, the lightest of touches creating the strongest of the addictions. «I- I can give you a- a ride?» he stuttered, finally removing his hands from the door of the car. You started walking without even turning at his words, too much overwhelmed by the awful morning you were having. Kook was staring at you still in the same place as before, mouth agape and eyes sparkling at the way you were moving your hips, but when he realized you were already on the sidewalk he forced himself to follow you.

«I’ll give you a ride?» why did he keep doing that? That was supposed to sound more sure, more like a statement maybe? You snorted.

«Please, stop it» his presence beside made you even more nervous, what did he want? Why was he doing that again?

«I- I can drive, I can ride you-» what the hell was that? God, he kept making things worse without even trying. Your face immediately shot up, eyebrows knitted together and blood boiling in your veins.

«What I meant is-» he stopped talking again, his feet did the same and for a moment he considered letting you walk away and just give up. With how fast you were walking you were already disappearing into the crowd. But he sided you again.

«Look, I don’t have time for your teasing now, you can do it tomorrow.» you didn’t need to shift your gaze from the sidewalk to know that he was again there.

«What? I- No, I want to do it now!»

Did he really said that? Turn on your damn brain, Jungkook.

You rolled your eyes. «I can’t belie-»

«Can I just give you a ride?» he suddenly blocked your way with his body, arms outstretched and dark eyes praying yours. «Not in that way» he added, desperately trying to fix his stupid mistakes.

You couldn’t understand what the hell he was doing, standing there in front of you, in the middle of the crowd, praying to give you a ride after everything that he had done in just... three times you met? 

«No.» you shook your head and quickly got over him. «In both ways» you added, slightly smirking at yourself for your words. Jungkook sneered too, following you again like a puppy.

«You’d get there faster, please. Just- just a ride?» his continue pleads made you whine and stopping your steps you turned to face him, realizing just now how much he was taller than you.

«I don’t even know your name» you stated, ready to claim your victory. Jungkook let his mouth fall agape while looking at you standing so close to him, not that it was that close, but the rays of the sun were making everything too much to handle for him.

«Jeon Jun- Jungkook?» he managed to say, to ask, voice cracking in the middle.

«You don’t sound so sure of that» strangely, you smirked. Jungkook’s heart almost stopped right there and then.

«I’m Jungkook» he repeated trying as best as he could to smile without showing his nerves on the edge. You took in the sight squinting your eyes at him.

«Okay, Jungkook. I still don’t know you, so the answer is still no» you smiled at him and were about to start walking again but he got in the way a second time. His brain panicked again when he realized he had to say something now, eyes widened and throat dry. Mind blank, totally blank.

«I wanted to buy you something for making up for what happened yesterday and the day before- oh, shit not yesterday. I mean, yesterday and the day before but the day before that too.» he lowly groaned and shut his eyes, already feeling his face heating up. He watched your features change from annoyance to curiosity and then slightly smirking, but he couldn’t quite define if you were just having fun seeing him struggle or if you were actually smiling for his words.

You can do this, Jungkook. You can do this. Just go on.

«Apparently I screwed up again. This is for you.» the only sentence he wasn’t supposed to say came out like it had its own life and the maknae’s eyes widened even more while staring at your unreadable expression.

«So?» you asked folding your arms.

«I- i can’t- oh God» Jungkook wanted the earth to swallow him in. The embarrassment was eating him alive. «I can’t give it to you» he blurted out without even trying anymore to contain his voice.

«Jungkook, I really, really, don’t have the time to deal with this now. My parents are coming over for lunch and I still have to cook, they’re gonna start a-» you started blabbering but stopped when you figured out you were saying too much. «I don’t have time.»

«I can cook.» he claimed «I can cook, I’m- I’m good at it and I’m fast» His face has never been more red than in that moment, not even when he asked her first crush ever out. Never than when he was with you.

«What are you trying to say?» you sighed, again checking your phone, the bold characters of the time made you whine.

«I can- help you with the lunch?» he tried again.«You can trust me. I swear- my friend is a chef. He-»

«Are you serious?» you interrupted his endless speech with a hint in your voice that neither the both of you quite get. Your question didn’t sound like an annoyed one, it sounded more like... Surprised? Kinda. Desperate? Oh, hell yes.

Jungkook nodded, and in a second your wheels brain worked like crazy. It was almost 12.00 and you knew that your parents wouldn’t arrive at the established time, they were probably already in the car looking forward to the moment you were going to open the door and ready to start complaining about how late you were for everything, how your life wasn’t good for you, how you should’ve been more like them. No, you weren’t playing they’re game, not today.

Going to your apartment now would’ve meant arrive in twenty minutes, then you had to make sure everything was in place and absolutely remember to lock your bedroom, your mother had this weird habit to always pry and snoop in your drawers as if you were still a teenager, you hated it. You had to cook and set the table too.

Oh, lord. You couldn’t believe you were really thinking about this.

«I’m Y/N» you sighed, locking eyes with Jungkook. The information you had just given him seemed to make his features even more shocked. 

Y/N, he repeated to himself, finally having a name for your breathtaking face. You had really told him? After all he had done so far?

«Are you really serious? Cause please, I don’t really have time for your teasing.» now it was you the one almost begging.

Jungkook’s eyes widened so much that they almost fell out as he forced himself to nod. «Yes, I- I’m serious. I can help you?» his voice was shaking.

«If you promise your friend won’t set fire to my kitchen?»

Jungkook’s features lost all their hope in a blink hearing your words. He really thought you were letting him in your place to help you considering all the awkwardness between you two? Well, he hoped it. It would’ve been a good way to prove you he wasn’t a jerk and maybe get to know you a little better. It wasn’t fair to be that much head over heels for someone you don’t even know. But that thought vanished in an instant. It took him a few seconds to understand he had to call Jin.

Please, please. He hoped the rehearsals were over and that he had already taken a shower.

«I promise, I swear he won’t do it» Jungkook’s sweaty hands went in his pockets and grabbed the phone. «I- I’ll call him»

You let yourself sigh when he brung the phone to his ear. This was all too overwhelming, the nervousness was eating you alive and the fact that now you had to worry about his friend too made you hold another sigh. Please, tell me he’s not teasing me again. This was your prayer, the words echoing through your mind like a mantra while the man talked to his phone taking a few steps to distance himself from you.

«Jin, please. You own me this for the dress. And I promise I- I will do whatever you want me to do. Just, please do this for me» he prayed lowering his voice and staring at you.

«You’re lucky I just changed. Alright.» Jin nodded on the other side of the line, everyone was staring at him waiting to know what happened.

«Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you» 

«I know, how can’t someone love me?» he scoffed «Where are you?»

«A few block away from the studio, in front of the crossroad, but please hurry up. Really, she’s running out of time»

«Alright, alright. I’m on my way. Don’t say or do awkward things.» that was the last sentence he left him with.

Jungkook stared at you for a little bit before putting his phone back in his pockets, studying the way you were biting your lips and snorting from time to time, fingers playing with each other in nervous movements. He couldn’t help but ask himself why you were so nervous. Your parents were coming over, shouldn’t you be happy to spend some time with your family?

You were desperate, totally overwhelmed from your parents’s judgement, still thinking about their faces when they would see you hired a chief just for a stupid lunch. “Couldn’t you do this on your own?”, “This is ridiculous.”, their voices were already playing in your mind.

You turned to look at Jungkook, his gaze immediately leaving your face and his cheeks flashing red. You approached him in a second.

«He’s coming» he let out a deep breath, and so did you. You didn’t have to worry about lunch anymore, thanks God. «I- why... Can I ask you why are you so nerv- nervous?» his question made your mouth fall agape. Was it that obvious? 

«I’m not»

«Oh» he puffed «O-okay. I’m sorry» you frowned.

«Why do you keep saying that?» Jungkook gulped harshly.

«I- I shouldn’t have asked.» and now he was looking like a puppy for the first time in front of your eyes. For a moment he didn’t seem the charming awkward man that had made you feel uncomfortable anymore. The silence filled the air even though the streets were chaotic. 

Seeing him like that made you speak: «You won’t tease?»

«Wha-What? Why?» Kook thought the conversation was already over, so when you asked him he really didn’t had his brain working. «I mean, why should I t-tease you?» doe-eyes staring directly into yours.

«You always do it» you shrugged. In that moment, Jungkook really felt awful. You really thought all he had done was because he was teasing you?

«I don’t»

«Yes, you do»

«No, I don’t» his voice sounded firm for the first time. Your eyes left his.

«Then this is you? You usually act like... you acted yesterday? And the day before? And the-»

«No, I- I don’t» he sighed «but I’m not teasing you. I never wanted to?»

«Why are you asking me?»

«I’m not! It’s just-» he let the sentence disappear like a speck of dust blown off by the window. «I won’t tease» his voice made you look back into his eyes and the silence filled the space between you two again, your face lost his brightness.

«My parents are not easy-going people. It’s just that.» Jungkook raised his eyebrows.

«Yes, but a chief?» he let out without even thinking, the second he saw your features changing he wanted to slap himself.

«I know, it’s desperate» he held his breath, the guilt already sneaking in his body for letting you think he thought that.

«No!» his voice came out louder than expected «I-It’s not. I was just curious. Maybe I should hire Seokjin too when my parents come to my place. He cooks better than me» you scoffed and his heart sped up like crazy. Finally, he thought. He was dying to hear that sound escape your lips, and now that he was the cause of it he wanted to hear it more.

«Jungkook!» Jin’s voice remembered him what you were really doing and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he turned to watch him get closer with each step. Your mouth hanging open at the sight. Tall, broad shoulders and a charming face. Was it a thing running in his group?

«I’m Kim Seokjin, but call me Jin. I’m your chief for today.» he introduced himself once he stood in front of you.

«I’m Y/N. Thank you for doing this, I’m aware I didn’t give you time to-»

«Don’t worry, really. It’s not a problem.» he smiled. You nodded and gulped nervously before glancing at Jungkook, who was standing there shifting his gaze between you and his friend, praying everything would work out fine.

«Let’s go, you can tell me about what you’d like to eat while we get to your place»

And with that, you nodded at him and gave a smile to the maknae. Jungkook’s heart skipped a few beats.

«I swear, she has the worst parents ever.» Jin claimed, eyes wide and shocked features. «They really aren’t easy-going people.»

«Did they complain about the food?» Namjoon asked, the hyung raised his eyebrows.

«They didn’t dare, luckily for them,» he scoffed. «but from what I heard from the kitchen that woman really has the strongest self-control ever»

«What happened?» Hobi sat beside him on the couch.

«You mean what didn’t happen. First, when they came in they didn’t even greet her, they just gave her their coats and ran past her like nothing.» he raised his index finger while shaking his head. Jungkook’s eyes widened.

«Then they started complaining about her apartment. “I don’t really know how you like this place so much”, “it’s so small”, “do you even have a second bathroom in here?”, “you should move”. I mean, let her breathe!» he imitated your parents’s voices, an high-pitched tone for your mother and a weird twang for you father. His middle finger went up.

«After that, her mother tried to break into her room as if she’s a fifteen years old teenager. What the hell was that? She even locked it before they came in, I saw her.» and now his ring finger too.

«What?» Yoongi couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and neither the others. Everyone’s expression was only screaming shock, staring at their friend like he was telling them a crime novel. Jungkook had his eyebrows knitted together, mouth agape and an emotion neither he could quite get running through his blood.

«I swear I’m not making this up! They’re the worst!» Jin shook his head. «When they saw me serving the plates her mother raised her eyebrows and waited for me to go into the kitchen before she started spitting out all her venom. “Couldn’t you do this on your own? Of course not. You’re still trying to dance, right? That’s why you don’t even have time to learn how to cook”, “your mother is right, you should start to act like an adult, Y/N. I think it’s time for you to stop with that”. It was like being in hell, and I was in my heaven, you know I love standing in front of the stove. I honestly don’t know how she managed to stay calm.»

«Oh, God. She must feel so much pressure» Hobi muttered, Yoongi and Taehyung nodded.

«I know. I could see it in her eyes when I left, she was acting like nothing happened but she really seemed wrecked. She insisted to pay me but I refused her money, I told her she’s fine since is your “friend”» Jin looked at Jungkook, who weakly smiled as a thank you for his actions. He already knew that your parents were not that easy from your words and the way you acted that morning, but God, he never though they’d be like this. How did you even manage to not burst out at them?

Your pillow was doing nothing to muffle your sobs, they could be heard even with the sound of the TV on and the sheets hiding you from the light light of the screen. Useless to say, you were feeling like shit. You always tried your best but always fail with them. You were used to it, so why were you crying? Again? You wished your parents were different, more amenable, you even wished you were different, the daughter they expected you to be. But you weren’t, and all you were left with was hope, every time. Maybe the next time will be better, that was what you usually told to yourself, and that was probably why you ended up crying this time too. You needed to stop it and face the fact that it was not going to be better. You weren’t the problem, and deep inside you you knew it.

You simply needed to face it.

Finally, here comes today. It’s weird for you to think this, but you actually want to meet Jungkook, to thank him. The awful night you had made you think of how hard you try with your parents even though you keep telling yourself it’s not true. After having a chief cooking for you, the only thing you can do is cope with it. You can’t deny you were being anxious for the whole time, still skeptical about the situation, afraid that Jungkook was maybe teasing you again and his friend was no one but a someone looking for fun him too. But he wasn’t, he’s been nice for the entire time, always smiling and trying to make you feel comfortable, he sure knows how to marvel a new client. You saw him blinking a few times because of your parents’s words, but you’re grateful he didn’t tell you anything. He was professional and friendly, and you feel so sorry about not paying him and making him deal with the awkward lunch of you and your parents.

Thus, you are now walking in the studio hoping to find Jungkook or maybe one of his friends, not sure of what exactly are his schedules. You look for him until you realize you’re already five minutes late for your rehearsals so you decide to rush back in your room. What you didn’t expect is to find him at your doorframe, eyes shifting from person to person. His figure makes you hold your breath, his features taken by whoever his looking for, lips pursued, tall and muscled body wrapped in a pair of black jeans and a gray shirt.

«Jungkook?» you call. Jungkook’s heart drops when he realizes it’s your voice, then in a second the embarrassment is there again, making his ears and cheeks flashing red.

«H-hi?» he slowly moves his stare until it’s on your face.

«Were you looking for me?» his eyes wide, he weakly raises his eyebrows and now his lips are slightly parted in a pout.

«N-no? Yes, I mean no, I- fuck» he mutters, shutting his eyes at the end of the uncommon answer and hissing under his breath. You knit your eyebrows. Once he opens his eyes again you can’t help but smirk, just a little bit. With the half-gone sensation of him teasing at you it’s more easy to do it.

«I- what was the question?» he really doesn’t know how to answer you. You scoff and shake your head.

«Never mind, I was looking for you but now I really can’t talk. Do you have some time later?» your uncertain tone makes you cringe, again feeling weird in front of him. You can’t help it, it’s just something that happens every time in his presence.

His brain stops working again. «Oh, yes? Y-yeah»

«What- what time do you get off?»

«I- well, I- uhm... Yoongi!» he suddenly screams, panicking and widening his eyes when he shifts them from you to his friend, his tone radiates nothing but frustration.

Thanks God, he thinks, but a second later he’s already regretting it. You quickly turn to see his friend approaching you in heavy footsteps, and when you link his face to his name another wave of uncomfortableness sneaks in your body.

Yoongi looks at you only when he sides his friend, gulping harshly and trying to fake a smile as best as he can. «Hi, I’m Yoongi?»Why do they all speak like this? 

He shifts his eyes from you to Jungkook and viceversa, hoping someone to talk and tell him what the hell is he doing there with you two. When Jungkook finally speaks his voice his shaking. «What dime do- do we get o-off?» his eyes are basically praying Yoongi to answer.

«I think at seven?»

«Oh» he lets out, lowering his gaze on you again. You try to shrug off the mix of emotions his dark eyes give you.

«Okay, I... I’ll wait for you? I guess, if you tell me-»

«13» Yoongi interrupts your blabbering seeing that the maknae’s face is as blank as a white sheet paper, still in shock from what’s happening, he probably wouldn’t have known how to answer you.

«Thank you. See you later then» you try to smile without letting your uneasiness creep in and quickly enter the rehearsal room, letting out a deep breath.

«You know you’ll have to talk to her later, right? And what was she talking about?» Yoongi asks as soon as you can’t hear him. Jungkook shrugs.

«She- she wants to talk? I’m gonna die in the awkwardness, I know it. I’m gonna embarrass myself so much I won’t even be able to breathe, fuck.»

«Y/N?» Jungkook stares at your reflection in the mirror, his movements suddenly stop nd Hobi frowns at him.

«Jungkook, what are you doing?» he screams over the music. The maknae blinks a few times before he understands you’re looking at him and he’ll make everything more awkward if he keeps standing still like this with his eyes on you. Thus, he takes a deep - deep - breath and  counts the time again before catching up with the moves.

His body makes you hold your breath, his movements are clean and outright, his style is impactful, even the small details incredibly focused and accurate. His muscles twitch under the clothes, and you can outline the muscles of his legs even without even trying. Only the sight makes you shudder. His body is something you really didn’t dwell on, too much taken aback from the way he usually acts around you, but having a show like this in front of your eyes is something you can’t really turn away to. The way he moves his hips in a particular move has you clenching around nothing, and you suddenly blush at the thought of how he’d move them in a different situation, your heart beats faster.

Jungkook tries to not let your presence influence his rehearsals but he can’t help to steal a few glances at you while he moves on the rhythm. When he sees you blushing and glancing down his body he can’t help but smirk a little bit, even though his heart beats louder with every second. He glances away again when you eventually raise your eyes to his face, body stiffening in an second.

When the music finally stops and you seem to wake up from your trance you find yourself looking at the others, realizing only now that you probably should have asked before coming in the room like this, so you stand up and go out in a second.

Yoongi suddenly runs behind you.

«Y/N? Right?» you have no chance but to turn and nod.

«I’m sorry, I sho-»

«You can stay.» he smiles at you «And I’m sorry for the tea, the other day»

«Are you sure?»

«About the tea? I’m really sorry» he bits the inside of his cheek.

«No, I mean are you sure I-»

«Oh, yes. Jungkook would like it if you stayed» he suddenly points his thumb to Jungkook, who’s staring at the two of you with his lips parted and apparently in trance like you were just a few seconds ago. When your eyes lock with his you shrug to hide the weird shiver sneaking into your back.

«Okay, then» you smile at Yoongi and head back to the bench at the side of the room. 

You spend at least twenty five minutes staring at Jungkook, your eyes rarely meet the figures of his friends, completely taken by the way he moves and the emotions he makes you feel with every song. At the beginning the maknae feels his cheeks heating up and his body as stiff as a trunk, but with the time passing by and the seconds becoming minutes he slowly gains a little bit of confidence, and when you see him even more free and secure you can’t help but take in the sight releasing a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. He’s like a magnet, some weird kind of energy attracts you to him, maybe it’s the way he speaks with his face or the way his eyes seem even darker and deeper when he sometimes glances at you and immediately glances back. Time seems to run and before you know it the music stops again and the group is lets out uneven breaths, heading to the bench you’re sitting on to grab their towels.

You feel your cheeks heat up when you notice almost every one of them glance at you with a look you can’t really read. Jungkook is still in front of the mirror, eyes completely focused on the way his body moves and repeating movements like a mantra. When he finally stops and turns around his gaze locks with yours, his heart pounds in his chest, palms sweaty all of a sudden.

«Kook, here!» one of his friends throws him a bottle of water and the man quickly catches it bringing it to his lips and taking a few sips. You watch the way his adam’s apple moves from your seat. He closes the bottle and finally heads to the bench, he feels so nervous he’d do something awkward and make you both feel uncomfortable that he almost thinks of running away. The others seem to quickly disappear to go to change and when he finally stands beside you you don’t really know how to act. The silence fills the room and makes you wince, your tongue comes out to wet the petals of your lips, Jungkook holds his breath.

«I like your style of dancing, the way you move» you blurt out. The maknae seems almost shocked at your words.

«I- I like it too» and here we go again. «I mean, I like yours too?»

«You watched me dancing?»

Jungkook groans. «I- oh, ye- yes?» he quickly gives up on lying «I watched you»

«Oh, I didn’t notice» you nervously smile. «Thank you, then»

Jungkook brings his white towel to his neck, wiping the sweat from his skin. That stupid action hits you like a wrecking ball.

«I’m- I’m sorry for everything that happened,» he speaks without thinking «I- I never wanted to tease you. I’m really sorry it- it came out like that. Really sorry.» his tone is shaky and he still can’t believe he managed to let out a full sentence without embarrassing himself or you. For some kind of reason his words make your gaze deepen in his, the weight of your irises almost crashing down Jungkook’s mind.

 You shake your head. «You apologize every time» a smile breaks through your mask.

«I don’t want to... make you feel uncomfortable? It’s just... I’m really so- sorry if it came out in the wrong way. I always end up embarrassing myself but I wanted to make a good impression, it’s just-» he suddenly stops talking, feeling all of a sudden even more nervous to say the words he was almost spilling out, he scraps at the back of his neck.

«You make me nervous» he really said it. 

His words hit you like a train, fast enough to make you doubt you really heard them and hard enough to stun you. «I make you nervous? Oh, I’m sorry I-»

«No, no, no, no» he quickly complaints «In a good way, I- I guess?» 

«What do you mean?»

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak a few times but always fails and closes it, before putting the towel on the bench and harshly gulping. «I- Can we talk about something else? Please?» he almost whines, making a weird smile form on your lips.

«Do you want to go to the cafe?»

He nods at your proposal, lifting his index finger. «Just give me a minute to change and-» he lowers to grab at all his stuff on the bench but unintentionally hits the bottle of water which falls to the ground. He lets out a deep shaky breath, the words I’m so bad at this echoing in his mind. You manage to bend over and grab it but at the same time he takes a step towards it to do the same, stopping when he sees your hands holding the bottle. When you raise back, the view you meet with makes you hold your breath and your cheeks red like peppers, Jungkook is not quick enough to rush back, and you can’t help but feel uncomfortable again, but this time there’s a different emotion too that you’re not quick enough to grasp.

It happens in a matter of seconds, but it seems like minutes when you glance at him, standing tall and looking at you bewitched by the sight of you like this. And he needs to remember himself you’re actually here to hold back the dirty thoughts that are already filling his head. You gulp hard, your eyes scanning his beautiful features and saving the breathtaking sight, his crotch almost touching your cheek because of the lack of distance. And you can’t deny, your thoughts take you to a different dimension that makes you fucking throb.

«Just- give me- give me a minute?» Jungkook stutters with a deep low voice, heavy breath and cheeks heating up.

«This are the kind of things that makes me think of you teasing me» you don’t even know where your words came out from, how’d you manage to make a full sentence still watching him from the same position.

«I swear, I didn’t want to-»

«It’s okay» you unintentionally lick your lips and he finds it even harder to keep a clear head, his cock already hardening. «Go?»

He slowly nods waking up from his trance, and manages to rush back into the fitting room with fast steps and heavy breathing, hoping that the others are not there. Not now that with every steps he takes he feels harder with the image of your eyes looking at him from down.

«Fuck» he hisses letting his bag fall to the bench. Luckily, no one’s here anymore and he’s only left with his boner. What is he supposed to do now? He can’t just change and go out, you’d see it, definitely.

Fuck.

Jungkook quickly heads to the door of the bathroom and takes a deep breath before locking it, lowering his sweat pants and his boxers on his thighs. The second the material doesn’t hug him anymore his cock jumps to his stomach, tip already red and dripping with precum. How do you manage to get him this hard without even trying?

His hand immediately wraps around his shaft, squeezing himself a little bit, just enough to make his head fall back and his lips part letting out a strangled whine. 

«Fuck» he hisses before he starts moving his hand, his mind going back at you and how damn good you looked before at the height of his cock. The first time he masturbated thinking about you sucking him dry he didn’t really think he would ever have a picture of you to accompany his actions to. And now that he has it, he can’t seem to get enough of it. You’d look so fucking good giving him the blowjob of his life, hollowing your cheeks and wrapping him in your mouth, he’d fuck it so good you’d be drooling and gagging for him. His thumb slowly caresses his frenulum and he twitches under his hand, stroking himself faster and harder. He doesn’t even realize it but the image of you he has in mind is making him louder than he usually is, panting and hissing, begging to explode.

«Oh my god, fuck.» he groans.

You can’t hear him from where you are, but your tights are tightening anyway. What happened just a few moments ago is replaying in your mind over and over again. The view he gave you of him staring directly into your eyes while you were basically facing his cock it’s making you go out of your mind. You can’t deny he’s charming, with features that make you feel dizzy, but this was too much to handle even for you. Your mind can’t help but fantasize how he’d fist your hair while you’d lick him, and just the thought makes you clench around nothing, the wetness between your folds already soaking your knickers. You try to push the image away, but the way you’re desperately squeezing your thighs for some kind of friction tells a total different story.

Jungkook bites his lips, his abdomen twitching and his shoulders heavily raising.

«Y/N» he whines, picturing you on your knees for him. In his mind, your hands are one on his inner thigh and the other playing with his nipple, twirling it between your index and thumb and making him even more sensible.

«Shit, so good» his voice is husky, sure as hell it would make you shudder and fall on your knees if you’d only hear it. His movements become more sloppy, the knot in his stomach almost about to burst. He groans and speeds up even more, hips practically hitting his hand with every stroke. He imagines your thighs tightened, the wetness in your folds, the way you’d taste, and he feels even closer.

«So fucking good»

Jungkook spits in his hand. His breath stutters more, and he suddenly doesn’t remember how to breathe anymore as he strokes himself harder, the lewd sound of him shoving in his fist becomes louder, the only sound feeling the bathroom and the fitting room.

The thought of you cupping his balls and massaging it makes him do the same thing, he pictures your tongue licking and swirling around the head of his cock. That is the last chunk he needs to come undone in his palm, spatters of white hitting his chest as he fucks himself through his orgasm until he’s too sensitive to even make one more stroke, letting his head resting on the door behind him. Eyes closed, heavy breath and mouth completely dry, Jungkook takes some time to recover from the heavenly climax he just reached.

God, what he’d give to know that he had the exact effect you had on him, but you’re just too shy to do something about it here. If you were home, well that would be a different thing. You’d help yourself with your vibrator, fucking it into you like it was him. But now, now you’re just trying to contain your thoughts, waiting for him to come out and go to the cafe.

When you realize it’s been a while since he disappeared you decide it’s better to go and see if everything’s okay. Standing up you unsurely walk to the door of the fitting room, the structure of the building being always the same makes finding the way easier. You knock at the door.

«Jungkook? Are you okay?»

«I- uhm, I’m coming, give me a second!» he answers back with a high-pitched tone, so you nod and go back to your bench, waiting for him. It takes him another three minutes to finally come out, his hair are a little bit messy and you think he must’ve ran his hands through them a few times.

«Are we- are we still going?» he asks. With your worries at the door of the fitting room he thought you might have heard him before, but when you nod and smile he lets his previous thoughts fade.

You head out of the studio and to the cafe, trying to ignore the way your panties practically slips against your folds. Jungkook tries to think about what to say and how to begin a safe conversation for the both of you without feeling uncomfortable or awkward but he just can’t seem to find nothing else than the question he asks.

«You wanted to talk?» lowering his gaze to his side he looks at you walking in silence. You quickly nod.

«I wanted to thank you, actually» you turn to smile at him, the butterflies in in stomach invading every part of his body.,«You know, for Jin.»

«Oh, no- no problem» he smiles back, his eyes sparkling and you can’t deny the sudden warmth you feel in your chest. «It’s the least I could do, for what happened?» his sentence sounds again like a question, but by now you’re kinda used to it. You scoff.

«Let’s say I forgive you for the dress and the awkward meeting» you tease. His eyes squint and he wrinkles his nose.

«That wasn’t my fault» he murmurs.

«Your friend?»

He nods. «Teahyung»

«Well, then I forgive Teahyung and you for the dress» you smile again, his heart is beating like crazy.

«How much do I have to embarrass my-myself for the drink Yoongi spilled on you?» he’d like to giggle but he feels so freaking nervous that all he can do is let out a puff.

«I don’t know, you’re pretty good at that. I’d end up enjoying the show eventually and it wouldn’t be fair, I’d let you go on» you tease again. Jungkook’s cheeks heat up. His brain trying to understand if you’d say something like this because you like the way he acts around you or just for the fun of teasing him. The truth is, neither you know it now.

«It’s the thing I seem to be better at» your giggle makes him feel lighter.

«I was kidding» you stop your steps and he realizes you’re already in front of the cafe.

«You’re forgiven, more than forgiven. I actually feel like I owe you something now» you explain looking directly in his dark eyes, and damn, he’s really beautiful.

«Oh- no, no! Don’t, please» he shakes his head. «I- I wanted to make it up to you, you don’t owe me anything»

«Well, let me get you a coffee or something you’d like at least?» you point at the shop behind you. Jungkook licks his lips and takes another deep breath before nodding, following you in and trying to look elsewhere but the way you swing your hips with every step. You’re gonna be the death of him, and he’s slowly falling even more with every word you say.

Thanks to the time the cafe is almost empty, only two or three clients are sit on the chairs at the counter. Nevertheless, you sit at your favorite table, the one in the corner always forgotten by practically everyone. There’s something about this table that makes you feel safe, maybe it’s because no one seems to look at it, sometimes even the waitress forgets it.

«I’ll get a tea» you announce without even glancing at the menu, Jungkook tilts his head to the side and hides his head behind it. You wait for him to choose what he wants and when he’s done you raise your hand to the waitress behind the counter. The woman quickly walks to you, giving you a gentle smile.

«What can I serve you?»

«A tea for me»

«I’ll have a Red Velvet latte» Jungkook says, leaving you amused by his choice. The waitress quickly nods and leaves you with another smile.

«Red Velvet?» you ask «I’ve always wanted to try it but I always end up with tea or coffe» you reveal, Kook raises his eyebrows.

«I like- I like it. Maybe you want a sip?»

«Don’t worry, I’ll get it the next time»

«We can switch drinks if you want» he says as the same time as you.

«Really, Jungkook, don’t worry» you smile at him.

«Anyway, I really am thankful for Jin yesterday. He helped me a lot, without him I’d probably end up having a breakdown» you scoff at the end of your sentence even though it’s true. Jungkook watches you as you speak, completely taken by your words and the way you move your lips, your voice seems to be the only thing catching his ears now, not even one of his favorite songs playing in the background gets him.

«Thank you for being so nice and help me, Jungkook. It was Sunday and-»

«Hey, no problem» he cuts off your rumbling with his hand on yours, and the second he realizes what he has just done he takes it away with wide eyes. The only trace he leaves on your skin is the dampness of his sweaty palms.

«I’m- I’m sorry»

«Stop it, please» you almost whine and his features instantly sadden, afraid he just made another mistake. He tries to hide his expression but fails, and the guilt sneaks into you making you shake your head.

«I mean, stop being so stiff. Tell me, what is it?» you ask.

«What?»

«What do I do to make you this nervous?» you ask again. «I can try and-»

«It’s not you.» he cuts you off again. «I- I mean it is you, but it’s me. I-» he stutters.

«I can try to hide my face if you want» youironically propose as you grab the menu and cover your face with it. Jungkook frowns but immediately smiles at your silliness. «Does it work?»

«It- It’s not making any difference» he holds back a laugh.

«Are you sure?» you giggle. He shakes his head.

«I am, just- please, look at me» his words play a strange trick on your mind, making you harshly gulp as your heart skips a few beats. It’s noy like he had just said something that important, but your mind goes blank for a second.

«Y/N?» he calls, eyes fixated on the menu you’re holding. He stretches his arm out and grabs at the paper, slowly lowering it from your face. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. Jungkook stares at every feature of your face taking in the sight in front of him, the power you have on him is fucking scary, and he’s realizing it for the first time now looking in your eyes.

«What happened?» he lets out in a whisper, not really certain of his voice at the moment. You gulp and shake your head. You don’t even know what happened, how are you supposed to explain him?

«There you go, your tea and your Red Velvet» the waitress comes in the way, and you thank her in your mind for saving you from the awkward situation you just putted yourself into. However, the interruption is fast and she leaves in a matter of seconds leaving you with your drinks.

You can’t help but glance at his glass, the crimson color of the drink intrigues you and the chocolate chips on top are the perfect frame. Jungkook lifts it from the table and stretches his arm again towards you, putting the drink basically under your nose.

«Try it» he manages to say holding his breath. He doesn’t even know where he gained all of this boldness, he just did it without thinking. And now that you stare at him he’s beginning to think he’s making things awkward again.

Your hands cover his, giving birth to another session of butterflies in his stomach and a shudder running down your spine. Jungkook understands he has to remove his hand from the glass to make you drink and he slips away like he just got burn by a blazing fire.

Taking a sip you let yourself taste the sweetness of the latte and the chocolate chips before giving him his drink again, deciding this will definitely be your next order at this place.

«It’s so good» you whine, Jungkook smiles.

«It’s one of my favorite drinks, Jin- he always tries new things and likes to feed us like babies. He introduced me to this»

«I really like it» you bring your cup of tea to your lips, taking a sip. «My tea is so boring now» his smile widens.

«We can really switch drinks if you-»

«No, don’t worry, really»

He nods, taking the first sip of his Red Velvet.

«So Jin is kinda like the mama of the group?» Jungkook smiles at your comment.

«He is the oldest» he nods. «He likes to take care of us and we like to eat» you giggle at his words.

«His cooking is really good, I haven’t eaten that good in months. I should have insisted more on paying him» you take another sip from your tea.

«Trust me, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it» Jungkook smiles at you, and it’s a matter of seconds before he finally noticed he’s not stuttering anymore. In fact, he feels more comfortable. «He was happy to help»

«Oh, trust me, he helped me a lot»

You try to think what would’ve happen yesterday if it wasn’t for him, the result would have been even worse than it already is. Jungkook’s heart warms up knowing he was really able to help you, he made something right. The smile you have on your face makes him want to work even more to create a brand new one.

«What about Yoongi? Does he spill his drinks on everyone?»

«No, he doesn’t» Jungkook scoffs and avoids telling you the reason why he actually spilled it. «He’s the second hyung. Actually, he’s usually very quiet. His stage name is Suga»

«I heard about him» you raise your eyebrows. «Someone told me he injured his shoulder fighting over a first prize but I didn’t think it was him they were talking about, and honestly I didn’t know if it was true» 

The maknae shakes his head. «It’s not true. He actually got injured while working, he had to find a job to pay for his dance lessons and eventually he started a delivering job. He got hit by a car.» Jungkook stares at the wooden table «People often say that or that he tried to beat one of the judges and got kicked in his ass. I don’t get why they like to make up something so stupid» an heavy sigh leaves his lips.

«Last year I broke my uncle because I was pushing myself too hard for a contest and eventually I didn’t perform. I heard people say I couldn’t ‘cause I was pregnant» you tell him, the memory still makes you wrinkle your nose. Jungkook’s eyes widens before he opens his mouth.

«I hate rumors» he mumbles. «Who- who do you want to know about now?» he stutters a little bit, deciding to bring back the conversation to a positive vibe.

«Taehyung? Was it his name?» you squint your eyes.

«Yes» he nods. «Taehyung is the second maknae and a fashion icon in the group, we always try to look as cool as him but he just has that something that makes you give up and stay in your sweat pants.» you giggle at his comment and he can’t help but smile at your sparkling eyes.

«He doesn’t usually act like the first time we met, he’s pretty confidential.» Jungkook takes the last sip of his Red Velvet and you do the same with your now almost cold tea while you take in all the informations.

«Namjoon is the dad of the group, he’s always willing to give you advices but at the same time able to give you a good shake. He and Jimin are my go to when I need to talk to someone, but the others are pretty good at listening too. Jimin is the third maknae»

«Who’s the first?»

Jungkook puckers his lips. «Me» 

«How old are you?»

«I’m twenty two» he answers, remembering this is the last day he gets to say it. For a little moment he thinks of you at his birthday, but he forces himself to push the picture away, it would be weird to invite you when you’re talking fr the first time.

«I’m older than you!» you can’t help but exclaim, Jungkook licks his lips.

«Really?»

You nod.«I’m twenty four»

«How- how should I call you then?» he bits his lips, a little bit of nervousness sneaks again into him, worried you don’t like the way he has been talking to you.

«Oh, please don’t call me noona!» you shake your head and smile at him.

«Are you sure?»

«Yes, Jungkook. Don’t change the way you were talking to me, I liked it. It was natural» you smile at him, your heart beats faster when a smile shines on his face and lights up his features. Jungkook is trying to be as natural as he can, trying to speak without blubbering still stunned by your presence in front of him, and hearing those words make him less tense.

«Hoseok is the only one left. He’s a ray of sunshine, always able to make you smile and laugh. His stage name is J-Hope. He’s a spring, his movements are as fluid as water. Oh, and he can’t hide his expressions whenever he’s angry, even though it’s difficult to annoy him. His face goes like this» Jungkook’s try to emulate his friend is quickly cut off by your bursting laugh because of his expression, and he can’t hold back his giggles at the sound of your happiness.

«Sounds like a beautiful group» you say when you finally stop laughing, your cheeks are hurting while you take a look inside your mug, realizing only now it’s empty.

«It is, they’re my family» the tone he uses makes a knot built up in your throat, smiling melancholic. And who the hell knows why, Jungkook notices it. 

«Is- is something wrong? Did I say-»

«No, no, no. It’s fine, I’m fine» you quickly say smiling again. He would like to ask you what’s wrong again until you’d probably end up answering him but he thinks he’d invade your personal space and annoying you.

«Are you sure? I- I know I ask this a lot but-»

«I’m sure, thank you for asking» you interrupt him with another gentle smile. Jungkook knows it’s not true, but he nods anyway, bringing his gaze to his empty glass. His action makes you bring yours to your phone, unlocking the screen and realizing only now it’s almost eight and a half.

«I should go now»

He raises his glance, the feeling in his chest it’s telling him to not let you go but he can’t do that.

«I’ll see you tomorrow at the studio?» you ask him while getting up from your chair, rummaging through your purse looking for the wallet. Jungkook is about to say yes when he remembers tomorrow it’s their free day.

«No, not tomorrow» he smiles at you getting up and producing a shrill sound with his chair against the floor, his cheeks heat up for the fiftieth time only in an hour.

«Oh, I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday then? Or whenever we-»

«Could you give me your number?»

If he thought his heart already risked a heart attack many times with you, then now he should be dead from the way it’s beating. Blood running through his body so fast that he can hear it his in his ears, the tip of them and his cheeks flashing red, palms sweating more than before. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked you.

You stare at him for a few seconds, completely stuttered by his question as you gulp harshly and blink a few times.

«You- you promise you won’t send me nudes?» you joke, and this time you are the one who’s left with her mouth agape, wondering where the hell that just came out from. «Oh my-»

«If you don’t ask for them I won’t» Jungkook scoffs, the fact you just said something like that is making him feel lighter. You raise your eyebrows at him.

«I won’t, I surely won’t» you quickly rebut but you’re afraid he might be offended so you keep adding words making everything worse. «I mean- not that I wouldn’t like them, it’s just-»

«Y/N» he interrupts your dwelling. «I- I won’t send or ask for nudes» he laughs at his own words at the end of the sentence, making you grimace.

«I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that»

«It’s okay» he smiles at you and you let out a shaky breath before putting ten bucks on the table and heading to the door with him.

Jungkook dials your number on his phone and quickly sends you a message to let you save his, still freaking out in his mind for what happened in just an hour of being with you.

The afraid of being awkward he felt at the beginning is still there, but he feels more comfortable now that he knows a little bit about you. He’s still nervous, palms still sweaty and heart still beating like crazy, gaze still trying to lock with yours just to shudder and blush under it. He likes the way his nervousness shaded with the comfortableness you made him feel talking to you, his chest both threatening to explode because of the tension but still tasting the sweetness of the naturalness and ease, the combo is one of the weirdest to ever exist, but it’s true.

«Goodbye, Jungkook» you smile at him after putting your phone back in your purse. You think about your actions for a moment before quickly tiptoeing and leaving a soft peck on his cheek that makes him almost feel dizzy. The way your soft lips touched his skin will haunt him even in his dreams tonight. He’s not rapid enough to smile at you while you turn and walk away, too shocked by your actions, but he smiles anyway.

This is the first time Jungkook realizes he just had a bite of the cake, and now he wants to eat it all.

«Are you kidding?» Taehyung’s deep voice resonates through the stairwell and Jungkook can hear it even by pulling his phone away from his ear.

«I’m not, Tae» he rushes to the door and hangs up before opening it sure that his friend is already there. In fact, he is. Standing still in front of him in his Gucci palazzo trousers looking like a model.

«Happy birthday, Kookie» he smiles at him and hugs him tight making Jungkook chuckle.

«You just said it on the phone»

«I know» he pats his shoulder. «Where are the others?»

«They’re coming» Jungkook takes a look to his lounge, the table is already set and the food is almost ready, Jin will be proud of him.

«Is she coming too?» Taehyung asks, Jungkook turns like top.

«What? No»

«Why not?»

«I don’t know... we don’t have that much of intimacy. And with you?» he knits his eyebrows thinking of the possible ending of doing something like that. «She’d probably feel like a fish out of water and you’re gonna embarrass me if I’m not the one doing it» he shakes his head.

The bell rings and Kook rushes to the door to welcome his friends, Hobi and Jin are standing there with the biggest smiles on their faces and hands full of envelopes, smiles as bright as the sun.

«There will be a day when you’ll be old and people will make fun of you, and it’s coming! Happy birthday!» Jin hugs the maknae laughing for his own words and Jungkook does the same. Hobi joins the hug, making Tae grimace and run to them.

«I feel alone» he mumbles before wrapping his arms around the three of them, Jungkook in the middle is almost dying, being the burger in the middle of the bread.

«Happy birthday!» Hobi screams, his voice echoing in the hallways remembers Jungkook the door is still open.

«Okay, now set me free» he laughs. «Where are the others?» their grip on him loosen and he finally closes the door.

«They went to buy you a cake, Seokjin made you one but Joon ate it last night without knowing it was yours» Hobi burst out laughing.

«It was obvious! He should’ve known it!» Jin screams frustrated with his eyes wide.

«Look at that!» Jimin points at the cake through the glass, his eyes sparkling at the sight and his mouth begging to taste the sweetness of the sponge cake. He looks like a baby.

«Ugh, Chimin! It’s for Jungkook, not you!» Namjoon scolds him making the corners of his mouth drop.

«I know what he likes!» he says back. Yoongi shuts his eyes, they’ve been in here for almost ten minutes now, fighting over which cake they could buy and not really getting anything.

«Do you-»

«He’ll like that» Yoongi cuts off Joonie’s words and point at the cake nodding to the pastry chef behind the counter who quickly smiles at him.

«Could you write “Jungkook” on top of it?» Jimin asks with a kind smile, the baker nods and he raises his eyebrows at Namjoon.

«See? It’s gonna be perfect, you need to listen to me!»

Namjoon sighs and shakes his head, taking a glance out of the shop to see his girlfriend still in the car waiting for them, eyes fixated on her phone.

Your parents had decided to ring your doorbell without telling you they were coming over. Luckily - or unfortunately - it’s Tuesday, and on Tuesday you’re usually home for lunch, but when the doorbell squeaked you didn’t really think it was them. Maybe the postman or a neighbor, but not your parents.

«Surprise!» they both screamed. It was the worst surprise ever. You didn’t know they were coming so you didn’t make lunch for them, didn’t tidy up properly, didn’t hide your things and didn’t lock your door. Plus, you weren’t prepared for another mental breakdown, not so soon after they gave you one just two days ago. And you still aren’t now, listening to them talking while you eat your salad.

«Your mother decided to come visit Ailiseu for a few days and September is already here so we decided not to wait until next month, it’ll be too cold» your father explains, his smile going from ear to ear. You instantly pray for the mental health of your cousin knowing how your parents can be, she’s gonna go out of her mind.

«Exactly! And we’re staying at her place, since she has a big house. Sorry honey, we would’ve asked you but we thought we’d be too much in here.»

«No problem» you try to sound as kind as possible. This is the good side of having a small house, at least.

«How long will you stay?»

«Three days» your father says «but we’re going to Ailiseu for dinner, we’d like to spend today with you»

«Take a day off of work.» your mother points her index finger at you. «We’ll have fun! We could go to the mall and buy some clothes, I really don’t like the shirt you’re wearing»

You stop eating fixing your gaze on your meal and trying to stay calm. This is a nightmare. How are you supposed to not go to work when they saw you were fine this morning? And notify them in half an hour? Your boss is going to go out of his mind and kill you. You won’t even be able to rehearsal today, obviously.

«Mom, I-»

«Please?» your father cuts you off.

You give up. It’s scientifically proven that you can’t beat them at this game without bursting out, that would definitely lead to an argument and you really are not in the mood for it. So you nod and finish your lunch listening to all their stories, your mother complaining about everything: the broken electric hand dryer at the gas station they stopped in, the way your father drives, your shirt - again -, your salad, your house and again your job. All of her words only make you wish to end this day as soon as possible but against your desire, time only seems to slow down while you wait for your her to come out of the bathroom.

You’re ready to go to the mall, you already called your boss and told him you had a setback and couldn’t go back to work this afternoon, and like you predicted before he didn’t sound happy at all, groaning things you couldn’t understand and quickly hanging up. Your mother is been in the bathroom for twenty minutes now making you frown and sink in your couch. When she finally comes out you head to the door in a second.

«Let’s go shopping!»

Your feet are hurting, if they could talk their exact words would be “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” at every step you take. You’ve been in here for almost six hours now, dragged from a shop to another, from a salon to a shoe store and you’re pretty sure that by now you entered all the shops in the mall.

«What’s the time?» your mother finally stops walking at your father’s question, taking a glance at her golden watch.

«It’s almost eight,» she answers raising her eyes to you «we should probably go. Do you mind giving us a ride to Ailiseu’s place?»

You try to fake a small and force yourself to nod despite your tiredness, all you’d like to do now is lay down and sleep. Your brain health is being put to serious danger today, with all your parents endless rumblings and complaints, your mother even tried to buy you a shirt just for you to go change the one you have on in the public restrooms.

You head to your car with big strides and yawning, your parents’ words behind you about how beautiful your cousin’s house is  and how much their parents must be proud of her are making your chest heavy and your head pound.

You hope not to stay stuck in traffic once you get in your car and get out of the parking lot. You only make it to a few blocks before your wishes and hopes totally fade away, the cars blocking the street and the sounds of the honking filling your ears.

«We’re gonna be late, Ailiseu is waiting for us» your father sighs.

«Can’t you take a different road?»

«How am I supposed to take a different road now? There are cars behind me» you huff at your mother’s words.

«Then honk!»

«It’s not gonna change a thing, everyone is doing that!» you claim. Your dad shakes his head.

You wait at least five minutes before you move again, the silence only filled with your mother’s huffs and annoyed muttering. When you think you finally made it and you’re gonna be home soon, a loud thud makes you shudder and not even a second later you’re being pushed against the wheel because of the swing of your car, hitting your forehead against the glass of the windshield.

It takes you a few moments to realize you just got hit and before you know it you’re already putting on your hazards and heading out of your car. How is it even possible to witness to accidents in just a few days? 

You take a look to your parents while they do the same as you and when you see they’re fine you let out a sigh of relief that lasts as quickly as it came out. Your car is devastated at the back and there is no way you can walk home without shedding parts along your way, you only feel grateful that you and your parents are not hurt.

The man in the car behind you approaches you with fast steps and a worried face, tired eyes and shaky voice.

«I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more careful»

You don’t even understand how he managed to make such a mess to your car with the traffic on the streets now, he probably came out from one of the small roads where there weren’t cars and you were the lucky one to welcome him in the jam.

The man leaves you his number telling you to call him once you know how much this is going to cost you and quickly leaves, you end up calling a taxi for your parents and a tow truck for your car, trying to stay as awake as possible. After forty five minutes of waiting you’re so tired that you could lay down and sleep in the middle of the road if it wasn’t for the cars threatening your life, but apparently someone is hearing your prayers and the tow truck comes to rescue you. Your car is brought to the mechanic and you say goodbye to another one hundred bucks for the tow truck. You’re left alone in the middle of the jam, so you move to the sidewalk ready to call a cab. You had the worst day and you’re already thinking of how much you’ll have to work to get all the money you just lost back.

«Y/N?»

You’re being caught off guard when someone calls you while you’re bringing the phone to your ear. When you turn and find Jin smiling at you you quickly hang up.

«Jin, hi»

«What are you doing here?» he looks down at you as if he’s the Eiffel Tower and you’re the grass.

«Uhm, my car broke, I was going to call a taxi»

«If you want I can give you a ride? Can you wait a little bit? Just the time to sing happy birthday to Jungkook and give him the gifts, we’re looking forward to embarrass him» he laughs.

«Oh, it’s Jungkook’s birthday?» Jin nods realizing only now that Kook probably didn’t tell you. «I don’t know... I don’t want to bother, I wasn’t invited and I don’t have a gift and-»

«I think you’re thinking too much» he quickly cuts you off. «I don’t think it will be a problem for Jungkook or the others, he’ll be happy to see you»

You sigh. You could call a taxi and wait for it, spend another fifty bucks and head home. Or you could wait a little bit and spend the time you’d spend waiting on the street with them and maybe have a little bit of fun after this awful day, maybe. If things won’t get awkward again. It’d save you money you could use for the groceries, after all.

«Lead the way» you end up saying thanking him with a warm smile. He nods and soon you’re in the elevator waiting for the doors to open, hoping not to look as awful as you feel right now. You still feel sorry to break into his birthday party without an invitation, a gift or even a little bit of more intimacy between you two, so when the doors open and you hear the laughters coming from one of the apartments you think of getting back outside and call a cab. But it’s too late, one of his friends already holds the door open for Jin, glancing over his shoulder with curious eyes and widening them at you.

«Jimin, this is Y/N» Jin introduces you to his friend gesturing with his hands an impossible language for you to understand, not that it does have meaning, he’s just trying to tell him to contain his expressions.

«Y/N, hi!» his voice is soft and it makes you smile without an apparent reason. You link him to Jungkook’s words yesterday, the third maknae and apparently, the friend he often chooses to ramble on to.

«Jungkook!» he screams over the laughters coming from the other room, eyes still fixated on you.

«Teahyung won’t let me come!» At the sound of how happy is voice sounds, laughing and cracking in the middle you can’t avoid the warmth in your chest.

«Come in» Jimin steps aside and lets you and Jin in the house. «You can give your coat to me»

You thank him and give him your coat before you’re following Jin in the other room where the others are. Their laughters stop in a second when they glance at you, now filling the place just with silence. Jungkook’s heart stops beating for a moment, totally shocked and overwhelmed by your presence, mouth agape and eyes widened. He wasn’t prepared to see you, he totally wasn’t. He stares at blankly as if he just saw a ghost and not even when Taehyung finally sets him free from his hold he’s able to say something. Your cheeks are burning like fire under all their gazes.

«I’m Taehyung» the guy who was holding him smiles at you and takes a few steps before reaching out his hand. «I’m sorry about the awkward meeting»

«Oh, don’t worry» you shrug at the memory.

«Jungkook?» a deep voice seems to wake him up from his trance, Namjoon is telling him to do something with his eyes.

«I’m Namjoon»

Soon enough all of them gather around you and shake your hand welcoming you into the house with bright smiles and kind words. The only girl in the group tells you to call her Kitty and tells you she’s the Namjoon’s girlfriend, she seems pretty nice and you end up talking for at least twenty minutes, all of your tiredness seems to disappear. The only one you still didn’t talk to is Jungkook, and you’re afraid he’s annoyed by your presence. The thought makes your head throb, but you wouldn’t blame him after all. It’s his birthday and sure he’d like to spend it with the people he loves, not with you that he doesn’t know much and weren’t even invited.

«You should go talk to her» Namjoon whispers in Kookie’s ear.

As if he hasn’t thought about it already. Jungkook knows he should talk to you, but as I said before, he really isn’t prepared for this. And seeing you talking with his friends and smiling makes the feeling in his chest even more uncontainable. You’re smiling and you seem at ease with them, sipping from your glass from time to time and laughing at Jin’s jokes. He likes this picture, you in his house, all bright and happy. He could get used to it. And all of this, only makes his anxiety grow until it’s skyrocketing.

«I’m gonna say or act awkward and ruin things again, I’m not-»

«And do you think that staying here won’t? She’s in your house, it’s your birthday and you didn’t even greet her. It surely...» he trails off when you take a few steps towards them. Jungkook bits the petal of his lower lip feeling the usual but still new mixture of emotions rushing through his blood until it reaches his chest and totally takes over him. Namjoon pats at his shoulder and glance at you with a kind smile before standing up from the couch with Hobi and heading to the kitchen. Jungkook stares at you for the millionth time, wishing to say something, anything, but the words are caught in his throat.

«Happy birthday» you stop in front of him, glancing down at the pillows beside him. «Can I?»

 He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth even more before nervously nodding.

«I’m sorry,» you say softly after sitting on the couch «I didn’t want to break in and annoy you, my car broke and Jin offered me a ride home and-»

«You didn’t annoy me, you don’t annoy me. Never- you never annoy me» he blurts out. «You- you can stay as much as you want» his cheeks are heating up, and you don’t even know why but you suddenly smile like a baby, his words make you feel more at ease.

«I don’t have a gift»

«It doesn’t matter» he smiles at you, your heart both stuttering when you lock eyes.

«If I’m being honest, I-» he stops talking, eyes shifting from yours to meet the ground.

«What?»

Jungkook stays silent for a moment, thinking about what he wants to say over and over again, trying not to make it sound as cheesy as it sounds in his head, but the truth is that there aren’t other words to express it.

«I like you here»

«What?»

«I-» he gulps «I like you here, with us?» he wants to slap himself. Why did he even think about telling you something like this?

«You seem happy?»

You squint your eyes at him, something about this conversation is making you more nervous than usual.

«I think I am?» why are you asking him?

Jungkook scoffs at your tone, it comes out so naturally that it makes your heart flutter. «You don’t sound so sure about that» he quotes your words, a bright smile creeping upon your face.

«Everyone is so nice and easy-going, and they made me feel comfortable even though I wasn’t meant to be here» you shrug. «You weren’t joking when you talked about them»

«Actually...» he clears his throat «I though of invating you yesterday but I- I didn’t cause I though it would be weird? I mean-»

«Jungkook, you don’t need to explain me why you didn’t invite me. Don’t justify yourself»

«I’m not» he replies fast enough to make you knit your eyebrows.

«But I’m happy you’re here now» the sound of those words are like sugar to your hypoglycemic heart, hearing them makes you feel something you never experienced, something that you missed since you were a little girl. The simple act of being happy to have someone near you and not expect anything from them is something you never witnessed, neither from your parents, even though they love you under those cold masks they wear. People always seemed to expect something from you, always. Jungkook is not telling those words without meaning them, he’s not expecting a thing from you. Not even a gift.

«Jungkook!» Hobi screams from the kitchen, tone breaking into a laughter and soon joined by others too. Jungkook shuts his eyes for a moment and then smiles before standing up from the couch. With boldness he didn’t think he has, he stretches his hand out for you to grab it, waiting with held breath and unsure dark doe-eyes staring directly into yours.

It’s a matter of seconds before you loose up and reach out to his hand, fingers intertwining with each other’s and a shudder running down your spine.

Jungkook stands still for a moment, his hand is limp against yours, he didn’t really think you’d grab his hand, not in this way. You’re not holding it to help you stand up, you’re intertwining your fingers with him. It’s different. The heat rising in your cheeks makes you feel like a teenager with her first crush and only now you realize that that’s why your heart is pounding and your brain is overthinking more than usual. You’re about to split away since he doesn’t tightens his grip on you, mentally slapping yourself for doing something like this. You’re fingers leave his and Jungkook’s chest feels suddenly more heavy. Reaching out again, he grabs your hand, fingers intertwine with yours and this time in a tight and sicure grip. His hands are a little bit sweaty for the nervousness, but so are yours. Your heart stutters, breath held as if you were free diving.

Both of you stand still for a moment before turning to look at each other, not even the time to say something that Hoseok is calling again from the kitchen.

«Jungkookie!»

«Happy birthday!» the screams fill the apartment, Jungkook’s features are priceless with his eyes squinted and his cheeks flashing red, trying as best as he can not to die under everyone’s affections.

«Blow out the candles!» Jimin shouts «I’m the one who choose the cake!»

The happiness and the intimacy in the room is so overwhelming that you feel out of place for a moment, but Taehyung grabs you by your arm and brings you closer to the group.

«Come here, embarrass him with us» he winks making you laugh. Jungkook shakes his head, he’s still at ease for the happy birthday song but he can’t fight the big bunny smile taking over his face. And when he sees you laughing with Teahyung, it takes him just a second to let go of the uncomfortable feeling in his chest only to be left with the desire of the sweet taste of the cake, and not the one on the wooden table.

Taking a deep breath he blows out the candles, eyes fixated over you making your heart skip a few beats. He doesn’t even think of a wish, all he wants it’s here tonight; the warmth of his friends, the love they feel for each other, maybe the new beginning of something, anything.

The candles die out, leaving the room in the dark for a few seconds before someone finally turns the lights on.

«Time for the presents!» Namjoon screams.

«Oh, please!» Jungkook whines and the laughters of his friends grow even more. Yoongi disappears to bring all the bags with the presents in and everyone except from Jungkook and Hoseok seats on the carpet in front of the couch even though it’s empty, you guess it’s one of their habits.

«I’m gonna cut the cake» Hobi announces turning around to face the table and start his task while Jungkook makes his way through the bodies of his friends, apparently towards you. He stops in front of you, still standing still a little bit out of place.

«You wanna sit on the couch?» he points at the sofa and you end up asking yourself why you didn’t do it sooner. You sit on the cushions, eyes fixated in front of you even when he follows you and sits beside you under everyone’s gaze, his friends staring at him before gazing away.

«Here comes the cake!» Hobi is a ray of sunshine with his bright smile while he distributes the dishes to everyone and soon enough you’re closing your eyes and letting out a whine at the taste of the sponge cake.

«It’s so good» you let out with your mouth full, words almost puzzling. Jungkook bursts out laughing and you need to gulp trying not to choke.

«Ah! See?» Jimin points at Namjoon «I choose it!» he turns to you with bright eyes and a big smile reaching his eyes.

«My taste buds are thanking you» 

Yoongi enters the room with his hands full of bags and places them beside Jungkook.

«Alright, let’s begin» he sits in front of the couch. Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to grab the first bag.

«This is from?»

«Ugh, I forgot to write it again» Hobi murmurs making everyone laugh. Jungkook opens all the gifts, every single one of them makes you know him a little more, a little better, a little deeper. From the sweater of Hoseok to the set of products for his skincare by Jimin, they all tell you something about him. It’s Jin’s turn when he suddenly gets up from the carpet and shakes his head in the jumpiest of ways.

«Wait, wait, wait!» he almost screams. When he realizes what he’s doing he try to fake a smile. «I need to talk to you»

«What?»

«I need to talk to you» he repeats.

«Now?»

«Jungkook ya! Yes, now!» Jin looks at him with eyes widened almost as if he’s trying to communicate with him but Jungkook can’t really understand what is happening, so he just wakes up and follows Jin in another room, not a second later the hyung comes back just to bring his presence for Kookie with him.

«Alright, I’m gonna take another piece of cake» Namjoon says, her girlfriend gets up from the carpet with him to do the same. Taehyung smiles at you from the ground and quickly gets up, sitting next to you. You end up talking for at least ten minutes, conversation as fluid as the water and a comfortable feeling of naturalness you haven’t been feeling for a long time. You think you’d like to hang out with them more, they make you feel good with their positivity.

Jungkook finally comes back in the room after fifteen minutes, gaze and smile that now you can identify as nervous. He sits on the couch beside you grabbing Jin’s present again, digging in the bag until he finds it. Ripping the paper off, the new set of kitchen tools lights up his eyes. Now that the presents are all discarded, Jin looks at you.

«Do you want to go home now?»

Would that be wrong or weird if your answer was no? You glance at Jungkook, his eyes already on you.

«Wait, wait!» he bursts out, now standing up and heading out of the room. Your expression is blank until he comes back, wondering what just happened. Jin seems to smile when he see his friend rushing back with a bag in his left hand.

«Come ou- out, please?» Jungkook asks. You nod still uncertain and you follow him to the balcony, he makes sure to close the door behind you so that nobody can hear you.

Silence fills the air just for a little bit, the only sound that can be heard is the night, so peaceful and quiet, the light whistle of the wind. Jungkook is again repeating to himself that he can talk without embarrassing himself or making you feel awkward, he did it until now, kinda. He clears his throat and raises his gaze, hand scratching his neck. This can’t go worst than the first times you met, after all. It’s a simple action.

«I-» he stops without even starting.

«Am I making you nervous again?»

His expression changes, eyes widening and mouth hanging agape as he starts to shake his head.

«No, I- I mean...» he trails off and you don’t know why, but you feel the need to reassure him. So you smile at him, one of those warm smiles that makes his heart stutter and wonder if he’ll ever get to see another one, if this one doesn’t kill him. He gathers all his strength to talk through the smile that wants to take over his features.

«I’ve got your dress» he lifts his hand.

«What?»

«I’ve- I’ve got your dress. This is your dress, the dress you wanted» his cheeks are burning.

«It-it’s not my dress, it’s yours»

«I-» his eyes widen at the thought of the explanation he has to give you, so many words he wants to groan.

«I saw you liked the dress and-»

«You saw I liked the dress?»

«Yes, I mean- I was in the shop when you came in.» he claims. «I saw you looking at the dress and I thought you’d like it as an apology gift? So I- I was trying to understand the size you were looking for and praying that there was on- only one or that you’d let me buy it for you.» he quickly blurts out.

«There was, but you had already found it and I- I should’ve just walk away but I didn’t and-» he stops again.

«You know the end»

He had already told you what happened but you really didn’t think it was this, with the little details it sounds totally different. The silence makes his way again and Jungkook feels like he’s about to explode for the way his cheeks are heating up, so he’s quick to place the bag in your hands.

«I- I wanted to give it to you and I took it at the rehearsals. Jin- he mistook it for a towel and- this- this is a new one don’t worry. I tried to search for it online but apparently they only sell it in his store and Jin found it today and-»

«Thank you» you cut him off, your warm smile reaching your eyes and now setting on fire his. He’s sure he’s gonna burn by the end of this.

Opening the bag and raising your hands to look at the cloth you realize that you couldn’t care less now. It’s beautiful, but it’s just a piece of cloth. It’s the action behind it that you find more beautiful, even though you would’ve never think about it this way just a few days ago. Jungkook searched for it online, and he grabbed it from you because he wanted to buy it for you. Well, maybe he should learn how to contain himself, but it doesn’t matter. He never wanted to tease you or make you feel uncomfortable, it’s just a consequence of him being around you. And that’s exactly why he acted like that.

«I’m sorry»

«We need to stop to say that» you scoff. «I don’t care anymore, not now that I know what happened»

«So- you- you’re not mad at me?» 

«Why should I be?» you frown at him «Jungkook, I’m not. Honestly, I-» you stop talking to glance at him. And the only thing you can feel is your heartbeat raising until it’s skyrocketing, you can feel it in your ears. An insolite warmth, a weird sense of happiness you never got to really feel. And something inside you is telling you to fucking let go of your armor, break it apart and take a risk for once, just one and just now. Damn, how much you would like to know what’s the taste of his lips, of him. If only you were more bold.

«Trust me, I’m not mad at you» you almost whisper, so low you’re not even sure he heard it.

Jungkook shifts his gaze from you to the dress in your hands, and before he can stop himself the words are already leaving his mouth. 

«Do- do you want to wear it?» he wants to slap his face again.

«Now?»

«You’re right, do- don’t. I mean, if you want to wear it I-»

«Jungkook, stop talking»

You look into his dark doe-eyes fighting the urge to drown in them, but it’s just a matter of understanding it, you already are breathless and desperately swimming to get to the surface.

«I don’t think it’s the right dress code for tonight and Jin is probably waiting for me»

«I- I can give you a ride if you want? I mean, you can stay more, you know that?»

«I wouldn’t like to both-»

«You don’t.» he states, eyes never leaving yours.

«Please, stay? Just a little more. Or let me take you home?» he’s almost imploring for a little bit more of your presence, but he doesn’t care anymore, not now. There’s something inside him that doesn’t want to do anything else than let you know the effect you have on him, what a strong power.

«Alright» you breath out. «I’ll stay, but tomorrow I have to wake up at six, I’ll probably have to go in a little bit»

Jungkook nods and feels the guilt sneaking in at the same time.

«Oh, I didn’t know it. You- you can go»

«Jungkook, I’ll stay for a little bit more. Don’t worry.» you lightly scoff, his worrying for you causes a weird feeling in your chest. «I’d be happy to eat another piece of cake.» you smile.

«Plus, I like being with you» 

Jungkook feels his chest warming, the thought of him making you feel good almost sends him dizzy. He knows that he can’t answer you now, he’d just say or blubber something without any sense, so he just smiles. One of those smiles that you really don’t know what they do to you, but you can feel it.

You end up talking for another five minutes before he goes in to bring a piece of cake to share and to tell Jin he doesn’t have to leave now to take you home, you didn’t tell him if he can give you a ride, but Jin usually leaves pretty late, so it’s not a problem for him.

When he comes back again he’s sure he has never seen someone as beautiful as you. The way the light of the moon lights up your features and the shadows of the night make them look even more charming, the way the light breeze makes you hair swing.

Jungkook sits beside the table and you do the same, body facing the city lights that make you feel a little more small.

«Here» he gives you a spoon. You eat the cake, air filled with light laughters from time to time and light conversation. His presence really seems to make you feel good, lightweight. Like you haven’t felt in months. The end of the time you gave yourself quickly arrives and you end up standing up and ask him for the bathroom before you go home.

The tiredness is taking over you again, but you’re not regretting staying more, not even a little bit. Placing your phone and your purse on the washbasin you start to think of how fast things can change in just the slightest amount of time. Just a couple of days ago you thought he was trying to make fun of you with his friends, and now you’re enjoying their presence and wishing the night would last just a couple of house more, so that you could go to sleep later. But it’s not possible, so you quickly grab your purse and rush back where Jin is waiting for you. You told him before you would be leaving with him, even thought the thought of Jungkook giving you a ride home was screaming to come out, you don’t want to ruin the party by bringing away the birthday boy. Saying goodbye to everyone is like a promise of seeing each other again and you end up sharing your numbers with Namjoon’s girlfriend and with Teahyung, telling each other you’d like to hang out together.

When it’s Jungkook’s turn he hands you your bag with your dress in it knowing you left it on the balcony to go to the bathroom.

«I’ll see you tomorrow?» he asks with a low tone as if it’s a secret.

Thinking about what happened today with your car, you’re not quite sure if you’ll make it to the rehearsals tomorrow, you have to work until midday and if your boss lets you, you’d like to work overtime to save more money, you already spent a bunch of them for the tow truck and you still have to fix your car. You’re just glad your mechanic is a friend of yours and will probably give you a discount.

«I’m not sure I’ll make it, I’ll probably work overtime» you grimace. Jungkook‘s features fall a little bit but he’s quick not to show you and nods. You’re about to tiptoe and leave two pecks on his cheeks like you did with everyone when his hand reaches yours and your heart do cartwheels. Your fingers intertwine for the second time tonight and you can feel your cheeks heating up with his.

Jungkook keeps telling himself to not make you feel uncomfortable, this is a bad idea, but he really doesn’t understand you feel everything but uncomfortable right now. The warmth of his body is so close to yours that you’d like to crush in his arms without any hesitation. Looking up at him, he stares at your face, marveled by the way you make him feel before quickly tilting his head. The action is so fast you don’t have time to understand what’s happening, and in a second his lips are pressed against your forehead, gente and dangerously soft that you’d die to feel them on yours.

Without even realizing it your arm wraps around his back and he feels himself stiffening at the contact, he wasn’t expecting it, and neither his cock, now throbbing in his jeans and remembering him that its better if he lets you go. So he does so, trying to smile as best as he can and ignore the reddish of his cheeks. Thanks to God no one is watching you, or he’d be dead by now.

«Good night, Jungkook. And happy birthday.»

And so you smile at him and turn around to head to the door with Jin.

What a birthday.

It’s only the next day you realize you don’t have your phone. You want to yell at yourself for adding another piece to the puzzle of your stress. You did nothing but run like crazy for the whole morning at work and you thought that at least you could relax during your lunch break but apparently, it’s not possible. You have two free hours and you don’t have any idea about what you’re going to eat for lunch, but you repeat to yourself it doesn’t matter. You’re just praying you told the right address to the cab driver and hoping that he is home. You’re going to Jungkook’s, and the thought alone makes a fluttering sensation rush through your chest, and now you’re even more nervous. You usually wouldn’t break in people’s house like this but it’s the only way, you really need your phone today considering your car is at the mechanic’s and your parents are in the same city as you. You can’t wait until tomorrow and hope he’ll bring it to the studio, this is the only way.

When you find yourself opening the car door and taking a glance to the building in front of you it’s safe to say you feel relieved. At least the address is the right one. Your steps are smooth and you make it to the entrance door without any problem, but when you search for his name on the intercoms you suddenly feel stuck in place, your heart beating faster than usual. Repeating to yourself you need your phone, you press the button and wait for him to answer. A few seconds pass by and you’re already losing hope when finally a bzz signals that the entrance door is just being open. You expected him to ask you who you were but he simply quitted so you stare at the name on the button wondering if you should press it again. Your fingers move faster than your thoughts and a second later you’re waiting for him to answer to tell it’s you, but Jungkook seems to have a different idea and again, he just re opens the entrance door. Sighing gently and giving up, you enter the apartments and get in the elevator.

The thought of being here again is making your chest warm, so warm it feels like a summer day. Last night since the moment your head touched your pillow you thought about him shamelessly, trying to understand the way he made you feel and to categorize it in some kind of way. You found no answer, you don’t even understand yourself when you’re with him. Yesterday has been one of the worst days ever but it took him nothing to make it better for you, even with his stuttering and nervousness, he was able to make you feel... mattered? Since the moment you met him for the first time Jungkook screwed up almost every time you talked, but he always found a way of making it up, maybe with a little bit of unease and already on his way to screw up one more time, but he did. And just the simple fact he cares enough to try even though he knows you so little makes you smile and worry at the same time. You’re not used to all this attention, you’re usually the one who’s always trying to hard, at his place.

The doors open and and you have to go out to let the person in front of you get in the elevator, so you end up staring at his door.

«I’m going now!» a yell comes from inside, you don’t have time to understand whose voice it is or what it’s happening that Jimin is already standing in front of you with his eyebrow raised and a smile forming on his lips.

«Hi, Y/N»

«Jimin, stop teasing me!» Jungkook screams from inside. Jimin widens his eyes and then his lips in a shocked expression as you smile at him.

«Hi, Jimin»

Just the sound of your voice and the maknae is losing it all, rushing to the door to see if his mind played a trick on him. Apparently it didn’t, since you’re staring at him with your mouth open and your breath stuck in your throat, and Jimin has pretty much the same expression.

Why are you... Oh-

«Fuck, I’m sorry» his cheeks heat up and Jimin shuts his eyes as Jungkook realizes he’s not wearing his shirt, fast enough to run to his bedroom that he could challenge the wind. His friend shakes his head.

«I should go, see you» he holds the door open for you to enter and then goes out with a warm smile. The second he shuts it you’re left in a house that now seems ten times bigger than yesterday night, maybe for the lack of people, maybe for the silence. Or maybe because you feel so little in this moment you wouldn’t be surprised if someone stepped on you.

«I’m sorry to break in your apartment like this» you speak out loud, not sure if he hears you. Jungkook bites his lips.

«I forgot my phone and-»

«Here» he shows up from the corner of the short hallway, your phone in his hand.

«Thank you» you grab it and put it in your purse.

«I charged it for you yesterday night»

«Oh, really?» he nods. You smile as another thank you and Jungkook opens his mouth to speak when a low grr fills the air and this time it’s you the one with your cheeks reddening.

«Are- are you hungry?» What a stupid question, of course you are. «I made some pasta if you want it»

«I should be back to work in an hour and a half and I’m not sure I have the time to eat, I have to wait for a cab too»

«I- I can take you? If you want?» he licks his lips. «It’d save you time and the pasta is ready»

He’s right, and your stomach is dying to be filled.

«Alright» you nod and he smiles triumphant, the way his eyes seem to smile at your words makes you wonder.

«Why are you so kind to me?»

Jungkook’s smile turns into a slight pout that makes you want to peck his lips as he raises his eyebrows.

«What do you mean?»

You struggle to find the right words. «I- You... you always try to help me or worry about me, even for little things like when we went to the cafe and you kept on asking me if I wanted to switch drinks. When things become awkward it’s because you try to make a good impression and fail, but you’re always trying.» the tone you’re using makes Jungkook grimace. He can tell you’re not used to this from the way you’re shifting your weight from foot to foot as you speak.

How can he explain it to you? How can he tell you he’s so head over heels for you he can’t even think of stop trying? Jungkook bites the petal of his lips furiously as his mind tries to find the right answer, but there is not and he lets out a strangled groan as he realizes it.

« I... I- I really like you» 

Your expression is blank, totally. His words almost seem not to touch you as he studies every part of your face for a reaction.

«You’re not used to this, ri- right?» he scratches the back of his neck.

«I’m really not» you breath out. Jungkook knits his brows together.

«Do you- you want me stop it?»

«I-» you shake your head «I don’t think so? I’m really not used to it, Jungkook. It may sound incredibly stupid but I never had someone who asked me if I wanted to switch drinks just because he wanted me to taste the best one and not to actually steal it from me.»

«Well, now you have me» his words are firm, so incredibly firm it makes you clench your jaw, and his eyes are the same.

«I- I charged your phone because I was worried you would need it today and couldn’t use it. I’m offering you a ride because I like spending time with you, I don’t want something in return other than you, your time.» his voice his calm and his shoulders seem to loose with every word he says as if he’s letting go of a heavy weight.

It’s all striking you in a second, and the hit is so hard you end up holding your breath. It’s not really the fact he likes you that makes you this stunned, it’s the fact he actually cares. Your parents never showed their affection to you without expecting you to give them something back, wether it was a high grade or a good impression on your neighbors, and when you stopped trying to always give back something their affections towards you had simply stopped, replaced by fake “honey” and other nice words just to cover the fact they didn’t really believe in you enough to show it. And with your friends and coworkers is pretty much the same, always waiting for something in return.

The sudden realization makes your eyes tingle and you vision blurry.

«I’m sorry»

Jungkoook shakes his head and gets closer, the thought that no one ever cared enough to show you how much you matter or acted just for the simple intent of doing something for you and not actually for them wrecks him apart. His mind flies back to when Seokjin told him about your parents and how they acted or spoke to you, he can clearly see the weight of every single word of them in your shiny eyes now, hurting you and making you question his good actions just because you’re used to the most selfish ones. It makes him want to bury you with attention, show you that people can do something for others too and not just to feed their egoistic side.

«Come here» it’s as low as a whisper, but you don’t hesitate a second to let his arms wrap around you, hiding your face on his shirt and soaking it with the tears that are now streaming down your face. His grip is tight and you can hear the stuttering of his heart against your ear, one of his hands gets to your hair and starts to softly, sweetly stroking at them to make you calm down just a little bit, head tilted over yours. His heart is aching seeing you like this.

«I’m sorry»

«Shh, stop saying that. We apologize too much» he holds you even tighter as you fist his shirt in your hands. Jungkook leaves a soft kiss in your hair and your heart skips a beat at the intimacy of the action. It’s only then that you realize you’re really letting someone see this side of you, the one you always try to hide because it’s to fragile to break, the one you hide even from yourself.

Slightly tilting your head upwards to lock eyes with him, Jungkook tries as best as he can to smile at you, even though his chest is has heavy as yours. His hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs caress your skin and wipe your tears away.

«Jungkook»

«Yes?»

«Please, kiss me»

His lips crush onto yours, Jungkook groans at the feeling and you instantly bring one of your hand in his locks as he tastes the salty taste left by the tears. As you lightly bite the petal of his lower lips Jungkook feels like he’s dreaming, and he prays not to wake up. His tongue slides in your mouth, wet and warm against yours, tracing and exploring each other and making you slightly tug at his locks, he moans in your mouth and brings one of his hands to your waist, bringing you closer to his body. The kiss is passionate, so damn needy, but not only in a sexual way. You need love, affection. Jungkook is more than welcome to help you with that, letting you waste all of your insecurities and frustrations on him until you feel completely dried, left with nothing but the realization of his taste on your lips, his hands against your skin, his embrace around you, him. And you need to push away to take it in, letting his forehead hover over yours and his heavy breath crush down on your face. His eyes are looking into yours and they make you feel things you now are able to categorize as humanly impossible, so dark and deep but so bright at the same time, lips still brushing against yours as you both take deep breaths. The frustration in your body is gone, your tears are dried, the only thing left is the need you feel to have him again on you, the desperate desire to taste him again. His mind prepares to the thought of a possible rejection, the idea you begged for him to kiss you just to drift your thoughts away storms his mind but he repeats to himself that whatever thing will come, this was definitely worth it. He’ll just have to face the fact that he just got only one bite of the cake. How can he even believe in it? Your lips are addicting, and he’s already craving for more.

«I could get used to this» you whisper. Jungkook never felt so relieved in all his life than now, letting out a shaky breath heavier than the others.

«Please, do it» he whines making you giggle and bring your lips on his again. This kiss is different from the other, more slow, more sweet, more intimate in a different way cause it’s just about you two. There aren’t emotions to run away from and to waste on the other, the only emotions are the ones you feel for each other. His lips move cautiously on yours as if he wants to taste every single part of you and imprint in his mind, your hand leaves his hair just to reach his neck and then his cheek, resting on his jaw. When you move away he rests his forehead again on yours and tilts down just to leave a few more sweet pecks on your lips, totally addicted to your taste. As you look at him you think this man we’ll send you out of your mind, if he didn’t already.

«Could you get used to me caring about you too?» he breathes. Your smile is bittersweet.

«It might take me a little bit» you answer. Jungkook strokes your cheek with his thumb, showing his bunny smile and making your chest a warmer and happier place.

«Then we’ll practice together, uh?»

«I’d like that»

[afro-elf]

fine, i’ll elaborate on my thoughts about tylor sift but they will be disorganized

disclaimer: i know a few people will read this and be like “op is a hozier fan can she really talk about the cultural obsession with mediocre white art?” and the answer is yes because a) i’m black and i have an english degree so can do whatever i fucking want, b) hozier is a better artist than taylor objectively, like his mediocre tracks would be considered her great ones, and c) the comparison of taylor to hozier is part of the problem Genuinely because i don’t even think white people like half the music they listen to, they just don’t wanna be left behind, we’ll get into this later. i’m sorry to everyone who is tired of hearing about him but hozier will be returning later in this post jsfglsjlgldsjlfd

second note: read this

i don’t just dislike taylor because she’s white. i don’t dislike taylor because she’s a woman. i don’t dislike her because she writes mean and petty lyrics about past relationships and people who wronged her. i don’t dislike taylor because her public circle of friends is almost exclusively blonde white celebrities with their own laundry lists of issues that includes ryan reynolds and blake lively who are poster children for white privilege and pseudo-excellence if i’ve ever seen them. i dislike taylor because the amalgamation of all of those things is so exemplary of a huge problem i have with the music industry in general but also like american society

fuck it, numbered list!

1. taylor swift consistently releases the same mediocre album but in different colors. every album is the same lyrically and tonally. her body of work rarely goes very far above “good for taylor swift”. folklore as both title and musical aesthetic is irrelevant to the actual content of the album, which is just every taylor swift album except set to folk pop and with a bit more cussing, congrats for baby’s first swear. i’ve seen folklore compared to much better bodies of work and even propped up by stans as album of the year, a distinction that rina sawayama and chloe x halle will be battling it out for if there is any justice in the world at all. the fact that she is allowed to do this and still be considered great when this is something that even white male artists are butchered critically for... astounds me. like we all know how well received all of coldplay’s similar sounding albums are.... Come on. 

2. i don’t think taylor or her work is particularly feminist and yet for some reason every time she frowns an army of white women brings her kleenex. i’m not saying taylor’s anger has always been unjustified, but her feminism to me has always felt like “i can do whatever a man can do” feminism, which is utterly fucking useless to me as a black woman. it’s only useful to her because as a wealthy, white, straight, cis white woman her ONLY obstacle in life is her gender. and if she just didn’t have that tricky little bitch then maybe people would take her seriously. like, just think about her music video for the man... what was the thesis of that? what was the point of that? with all of her privileges she’d just be gaining a single extra privilege. she’s a blonde blue eyed thin white girl, the world kisses her feet. i have no interest in proving myself any better or any worse than white men, they are not the standard for how a person should be treated, they’re cautionary tales, and white women are too. i think taylor capitalizes off of white woman victimhood, and it’s all over her writing style. even when she’s trying to be empowered, like in mad woman for example, there is this tone to it of victimization, poking the bear, unleashing the beast if you will. she invokes the imagery of salem witches and even more boldly chooses a noose to write about in the song which is..... surely going to be a white tumblr staple for many gifsets to come but holy shit is it hollow. she also tends to come back to teenage memories in her music and she’s thirty. i don’t think about being seventeen unless i’m being held at gunpoint but she seems to think about it All The Time. and part of this is to keep herself young, at least in her music, which only further ingrains this image of fragile teeny bopper taylor into the mind of the listener, fueling her victim image. this imagery and language means nothing because the world always rallies around taylor. even when she was the butt of jokes for not being beyonce (which she is not and never can be) and writing about her exes (which she does), she was largely supported by the industry and by critics. look at how many fucking awards she has!

3. folk and indie and alternative music is in a moment of transition, where musicians of color are getting the chance to really speak about how they’ve been treated in these overwhelmingly white circles and create their own standards and their own voices. and for taylor swift to swoop in with aaron dessner and jack antonoff fantano and almost reassert that mid-2010s indie sound as The Sound of folk pop in the popular consciousness.... it makes me violent! it! makes! me! violent! 

4. back to hozier! finally, i wanna talk about white standom, fandom, bandom, and womandom. i often see these very superficial comparisons between hozier and taylor (and hozier and florence and hozier and stevie nicks and hozier and whatever other white woman in fashion) and they frustrate me for more than one reason. i know that hozier has met taylor and said she’s cool, which is nice of him and he’s a nice man, but i’m not a nice man so i’m going to just say it: none of the people who have made those posts have listened to more than four hozier songs and it shows. the reason why this matters is because these posts catch on and create an image and preconception of hozier’s music that is divorced from reality and divorced from his influences and most importantly divorced from the deliberate and reverent blackness of his musical style. hozier has his white male privilege in the industry for sure but he’s not as towering of a giant as taylor and taylor’s music is an unsalted chicken, plain oatmeal, white paint drying on a white wall, a stick of unflavored gum. her music is so white it told me that its dad is a cop. i am, as a black hozier fan, exhausted with having to share space with white women who don’t know why hozier’s music kicks me in my lungs sometimes and think that taylor mentioning a tree ONCE in her 3 minute acoustic guitar slog about whatever suburb is the same when it simply is not. i swear some of you are pretending to love taylor because your friends love her and you don’t wanna be left out of the hot new musical discourse but she’s only the hot new musical discourse CONSTANTLY because she’s a white woman, she’s almost the Perfect white woman. like if someone asked me to describe a white woman, it would be taylor swift. her position at the top of the musical pyramid among people who eclipse her musically, vocally, and lyrically is only allowed because she’s The Perfect White Woman. she’s an ideal. white girls relate to her immediately because of it and now we have this unshakable mob of unbearable white women who think that the world has wronged someone who literally wrote fanfiction about the rich oil heiress white woman who owned her rhode island mansion before her aklghlghdhlgs it drives me fucking NUTS 

anyway that’s all. if you made it this far, listen to adia victoria, kaia kater, samantha crain, valerie june, kelsey lu, corinne bailey rae, brittany howard, kimya dawson, japanese breakfast, cold specks, left at london, rhiannon giddens, aisha badru, shea diamond, nadine shah, xenia rubinos, karen o, mirel wagner.... Anyone

[spiritualhippybitch]

Astrology observations

My friend @taurianskies7 did one the other day and it inspired me. I’ve been wanting to do one for a while but I have no time lately. So now I wrote this before going to bed :)

Disclaimer!: THESE ARE MY PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS. And no I am not holding back. Think of it as a sequel to no nuance November.

🪕I have noticed a pattern with Air suns with Taurus moons, not understanding psychology well. I mean, they know what it is but they are not very empathetic towards people. They are very likely to say stuff like “just think happy” “you feel the way you think” I believe it’s because air signs tend to approach things in a logical matter. And with the moon feeling very well in Taurus, things come naturally to them. So when other people struggle they might not understand why.

🪕Also people with Taurus moons might actually ignore their own psychological isssues. I think it might be because they have conditioned their feelings kind of to feel like a routine, and changing that, even if for the better, might frighten them.

🪕 I have sadly met many people with Pluto in the 1st house, who either have EDs or struggle with their body image. They might actually not feel enough no matter what.

🪕 people with Pluto in the 9th might actually have a father from a different country than they were born in or their mother is from. Might also mean that they struggle with belonging to those countries, depends on aspects though. ( I do not know if this has been said before, I am actually not sure. If so credits, go to that person, feel free to tag them)

🪕 speaking of aspects, people love to ignore them but they are sooo important. You can have a mars in the most chill sign ever, but if it’s for example square moon or Pluto, you might be prone to anger issues and even violence.

🪕Naptune square mars can make you prone to using substances as a coping mechanism for your anger or stress relief. (cigarettes, alcohols etc.)

🪕Pluto in the 2nd house can be obsessed with their financial situation, to a point where their whole happiness depends on it. They might actually value their life on what they have.

🪕many Aquarius Venus want a s/o but they don’t want a relationship. (I said it, I don’t care)

🪕many sagittarians really do talk so fucking much. I have never met a Sagittarius, who didn’t say their opinion even if they were not asked.

🪕also Sagittarius with leo moons can be THE MOST dramatic people in the world. Can also be very impulsive.

🪕 sadly ,many Capricorn 5th house, especially combined with a Capricorn Venus do not show much affection to their children, even though their Venus is in the 5th. They might like children but still do not show it. Many children to those parents, tend to feel “unloved”. Sadly it’s usually what the individual with those placements, most likely learned, from their own parents.

🪕I want to say that using co star and caffee astrology table charts is extremely harmful to our already flawed community. There are many, especially young people on social media, motivated to learn about astrology and all they see is, table charts that are NOT ACCURATE. It also does not make look astrology any less “pseudo science” when y’all post shitty post from co star saying shit like “ omg costar did it again” shut the fuck up, kathrine you’ve known astrology for 2 years max. Sit down and read a fucking book.

🪕 cats with Gemini moon WILL always meow when they want or don’t want something. They never shut up.

🪕lastly, people who have their moon in your 8th house, might really do, intimidate you, unintentionally. Your connection might be so deep, that if you are not used to it, it can lead to paranoia “why do they care so much about me? What do they get out of it?”. Also with a friend of mine, we are almost telepathic, it’s crazy. I think something, she does it or vise versa. But it can genuinely be one of the deepest bonds out there!

Again these are MY observations. Please feel free to add stuff! With love ❤️✨

[blindbeta]

I just saw someone asked about making a character blind in their novel and you responded about ways to avoid it being portrayed poorly. I wanted to ask, could it also help if part of the arc is the character accepting becoming blind?

Like, even if it happens in some kind of accident, or like them becoming blinded as a sacrifice for the team, would it be a bad portrayal for part of the character's story to be realizing it's not the end of the world, that being disabled doesn't make them completely useless, etc?

Or is that sort of arc also ableist?

[Note: I used the words non-disabled and abled interchangeably here. Both refer to people with no disabilities. After a conversation with some of my followers, I decided to make an effort to be clearer about who I referred to when I used words like able-bodied, because able-bodied may, for some people, refer to people without physical disabilities or without any disabilities at all. There are times when the distinction matters, even when people said they can usually tell based on context whether or not able-bodied is meant to include them.]

Writing About A Character Accepting Being Blind After Going Blind - When You Aren’t Blind Yourself

An arc about a character accepting becoming blind doesn’t feel good to me and I’ll try to explain why.

I’d rather read a story about a character who happens to be blind, in whatever way that happened, than read a story where a writer who isn’t blind tries to write about a blind character accepting being blind. I just finished a similar book and it did not go well. There are some things that research cannot teach you. There are some stories that aren’t yours to tell.

I don’t want to read about a non-blind author, especially a non-disabled author, writing negative things about my disability.

A character starting out feeling overly negative toward their blindness already feels bad to me. Why? Because the author has to write negative, sometimes completely wrong things about being blind. When I read stories like this, I am bombarded with stereotypes or myths which are rarely corrected by the narrator, who is usually traumatized and somewhat isolated as they heal. Many of the things they think or say are not checked or revisited. Mean things other characters say or think about them are often internalized by the narrator. Things that, in real life, are said to blind and otherwise disabled people as truths. As tough-love. As part of the supposed -Real World-. As bullying. As ignorant, innocent questions. As rude comments.

All of these things are not even coming from a personal place. The author writing these things- while they probably don’t agree with them, of course- is still not blind at the end of the day.

Readers who aren’t blind may not understand the nuance of why some of the things they read were ableist if it isn’t called out in the narrative in some way, which can sometimes happen when the narrator says something negative about their new disability. This isn’t to say readers shouldn’t do their own research or examine the story more closely. This isn’t to say the author is at fault for the interpretations of readers who refuse to think beyond what is laid out for them. When I say this, I am being realistic. Not all readers are going to be proactive. Not all readers are going to approach a book about a person going blind from a good place.

Most of the time, this is just something the author needs to accept. It is impossible to anticipate the strange interpretations of every reader. However, this narrative can be dangerous to a reader who has never met a blind person. Keep in mind, most people aren’t doing what you all are doing. They just read what is given to them. And if what is given to them is a helpless or self-loathing blind person, they might believe in that image. That book may be the only expirience they have with a blind person and they may not read any other books with blind characters.

Another thing I thought of was that non-blind authors sometimes don’t understand how hobbies and skills translate to blind people. For example, in a story I read once, a character who was going blind practiced playing piano and typing on a keyboard blindfolded so they could learn how to do without sight. However, blind people can already play instruments even if they were born blind. Blind people can also easily type on regular keyboards and, technically, correct keyboard technique means typing without needing to look at the keyboard.

Authors who don’t understand what it is like to go blind often don’t get the nuances of what that person is losing and not losing. And it often shows. They also don’t often include the aspects of blindness that are actually challenging. Why focus your worry on typing on a keyboard when you can learn how to use assistive devices in the kitchen or learn to cope with anxiety you anticipate will get worse after losing vision? Why not try to find accessible copies of books you have or scan or Braille sentimental letters? Why not organize your closet so you can find things more easily?

Obviously this is related to characters who know they’re going blind, though.

It favors non-disabled readers, which is ableist.

Another reason this type of story bothers me is because it is so common. Or at least people expect it. This type of story is one abled / non-disabled people can swallow and feel inspired by. Showing the blind person accepting their blindness also favors non-disabled readers in ways I may not be able to articulate well.

Accepting disability is an arc non-disabled people are comfortable with. It is a feel-good type of story that usually doesn’t challenge people too much, other than to remind them not to bully people. Already, this story is not even for disabled people, or in this case, blind people. It exists to introduce people who aren’t blind to the idea of becoming blind, to blind technology, to inspirational ideas about how blind people actually can do things. Stories like this guide abled people along and prioritize their ideas about blindness. Because the narrator is almost always previously abled, the story is about adjusting to blindness in a way that caters to non-disabled people.

How does a story with this angle benefit blind readers? Even if a blind person has also recently gone blind and wants to see a character who on that journey with them, what can a writer who isn’t blind say that blind writer couldn’t say? Or say better? Or say with more power? With more nuancel? With more personal experience?

And it may seem like saying this arc is ableist is too much. Keep in mind, ableism isn’t just about being rude to or excluding disabled people. Ableism favors those who are able-bodied or neurotypical over those who are not. It favors those who are not disabled over those who are. This story is just another way of doing that. Often, people are ableist through what they consider kindnes. Authors are not exempt from that.

Disabled authors should tell their own stories

This is where I will get some pushback. (I already received some here if you think it will be helpful to know what this is like.)

There are a few parts to this.

First, I want everyone to know I am not telling you what not to write or that this type of story, at least with elements of this narrative, can never be done well. However, the more care you take when writing it and the more you know about why it can be ableist, the better you will be able to write it. I’m still not sure I would want to read a book that is dedicated to this topic of accepting blindness, but who knows?

I also might feel more open to this narrative from a writer who experienced becoming disabled in some other way and was open about it. While they would still need to research blindness, some of the issues I named here could be avoided through having prior personal experience that non-disabled people simply don’t have.

If, however, you find yourself upset or feeling excluded by this post, consider what I wrote again. Consider why you think you are the best person to tell such a story with this particular arc.

I am also not saying that non-disabled writers could never write this topic well. I just question, again, what they can add to the topic of accepting blindness that blind people can’t already add. This is also assuming they were able to avoid some of the issues I listed above that might come up. Which would be difficult on top of doing all the other research they need to do in order to write a book. Why make it harder for themselves?

Now that I’m done with the disclaimers, accepting blindness should be something mostly left up to blind writers. This narrative is so closely tied to the trauma-based / incident-based blindness that it can be hard to separate them, but I feel like the readers of the blog have thought hard to suggest ways to improve or subvert that trope and the problems that go with it. Maybe they can do the same here. Maybe not.

Anyway, the reason I think it should be left to blind writers is because of the personal experience I mentioned previously. Acceptance will come from a more authentic place. Anything that comes before the acceptance will also come from an authentic place and blind writers will know how to deal these issues a little better.

Blind writers will know how to write this topic well. They can center blind readers in a way that many arcs like this don’t.

As a side note, blind writers also need more recognition and attention. This arc is specifically about or mostly about accepting blindness, which blind writers are intimately familiar with. Their stories should be prioritized in this area, at the very least.

If a non-disabled writer decided to do this topic, I think it would help to read and public ally promote books and other works by blind people.

Thank you for asking this question.

This was a really great question and I want to thank the anon for asking. I really appreciate the chance to discuss this topic. If anyone wants to expand on this question or figure out ways to subvert this arc, feel free to ask. Also, remember that I am not authority on stories about blind people, but I feel this opinion in shared by many of us and it should be known so writers can be aware.

Suggestions for alternatives.

1. Include only brief instances of acceptance and / or make it only related to blindness instead of accepting blindness as a character arc.

It will depend on how you do it, but brief, less direct instances of acceptance could be done well. One thing I’m thinking of is Toph challenging her father in The Blind Bandit. This could be seen as a form of self-acceptance for Toph, one which is related to her blindness without being the entirety of her need to accept part of herself, which gives her the courage to disrupt the view her parents have of her. Toph doesn’t struggle with being blind. She struggles with something related to being blind, which her parents being over-protective, limiting her freedom and expression, and putting her a gender role box.

The rest of Toph’s story wasn’t completely about being blind either. The writers, who weren’t blind as far as I can gather, handled this part well, and so I wanted to include it as an example.

Obviously, this can also be done badly, but that’s what beta readers are for. I personally would prefer the acceptance arc only be tangentially related to blindness, especially when combined with the trope about going blind through trauma / incidents / accidents.

2. Start in a different place.

You could start the story or character arc in a different place, rather than starting directly after going blind. This could be years later. After they already adjusted to the bigger parts of being blind. This saves you the need to figure out how to get around it.

Some parts of this ask might help.

3. Focus mostly on the practical stuff rather than the emotional side.

Focus on things like cane skills, adjusting to using screen-readers or needing to increase font sizes to read. Focus on learning to cook. Make the arc less about emotional stuff and more achieving goals. While I can understand how this might bother some blind people, I think it can work if blind readers are consulted, especially readers who went blind later in life. I wanted to include this as an option just in case people are determined to include going blind in the story. I think, if the author is careful, it could go well. A few narrative justifications for not writing the typical acceptance arc include:

-the character was already blind in some way first

-the character has a blind sibling, parent, or friend they grew up with

-the character got counseling or the story mentions they are getting counseling

Alternatively, you could also focus emotional difficulties on the traumatic incident, if there is one, and not the resulting blindness.

4. Write different stories - expand what stories about blind characters look like.

Writers have so many opportunities! I don’t see why they would feel the need to write a story primarily about going blind and learning you aren’t useless now after all, when they could be writing about a blind mermaid challenging the Mer Queen and falling in love with her instead. When they could be writing about blind space pirates creating new technology for other blind people. When they could be writing about a blind witch reclaiming their sexuality and also learning to dance to make their coven less worried about their social life after going blind.

See this post for more ideas about expanding the typical stories.

If you are creative enough, none of my claims that certain topics being best left to blind writers should stop you. If you feel limited, you might be trapped in the idea that blind people only have one narrative: trauma, sadness, helplessness, and just maybe, acceptance. If you don’t feel limited, you are in a good place.

Blind readers want other types of stories, too.

I hope this helps some of my followers. Thanks for the interesting question, anon. If anyone has any questions or would like me to clarify something, feel free to ask. I wrote this at night when I was tired. I have missed some things.

-BlindBeta

P.S. The ideas I pitched at the end are free to use if you feel inspired by any of them.

[obae-me]

Recently found your blog and I absolutely love your writing!! Could I request head cannons of the brothers reacting to an MC who suddenly cries in front of them but is over it in a minute and acts as if nothing happened?

Thank you for your request, and I’m so flattered you like my writing! 

So...I’ll admit got a little carried away with Lucifer’s part, and I always do my best to try to make each brother’s part of somewhat equal length, but if I did that...there would be about 21 pages of words in one post, so, to make it easier for me to post and everyone to read, I will be doing your request in parts. I hope that’s okay! 

Part 2 (Mammon)      Part 3 (Levi)

The Demons Inside- Part 1

Word Count: 2070

He had requested MC’s presence in his study while he finished up his work for the night. The day had been particularly tedious, and while he wouldn’t mention it offhand, their presence calmed him and motivated him to always be at the peak of his performance. 

MC happily came down to give him some support, a sweet smile on their face, dressed up in comfortable clothes, ready for bed. Their eyes were bright as they talked about their day and gave him praise as well as compliments to drive him towards his lofty goal. He took them gladly, although he wouldn’t say it. But despite the attention, these last few worksheets and reports were giving him a migraine. So, he kindly asked if MC could bring him one of his special bottles of Demonus. 

MC didn’t quite approve of him drinking to help his problems, but he tended to be aware of how much he was taking. As long as he was responsible--which he always was--MC didn’t mind. They got up from their chair, one of the luxurious red ones in the middle of the room. They chose the seat closest to where Lucifer’s desk was, but they didn’t dare move it any closer, he liked to have everything neatly in its place after all. Like his furniture, all his bottles and glasses were neatly organized, each one sleek and pristine, much like the demon himself. 

“Which one would you like?” They asked him, scouring the many labels, many of them written in a language MC couldn’t even begin to identify. 

Lucifer sat hunched over his desk, so focused on his report that he almost missed MC’s query. “Whatever catches your eye, I’m not going to be picky about it tonight.” He bit his lip and almost cursed as he made a small mistake on his report. He questioned why he always wrote in pen, fixing mistakes in ink was such a hassle. “But make it quick,” he grumbled. 

He wasn’t ready for the sound of shattering glass, almost jumping in his seat. He immediately straightened, his instinct ready to yell and scold whoever dared to be so careless. The name ‘Mammon’ almost formed on his lips, but then he affixed his gaze to his invited company. MC had accidentally lost their grip on the bottle, shards and alcohol scattered on the floor. One look at their face showed silent tears flowing down their cheeks, unable to peel their eyes away from the ground where the mess pooled around their feet. 

He had never really seen them cry before, they had always kept their guard up, refusing to show signs of vulnerability. He had thought it was an endearing trait, one he often had himself. So, having them cry before him now filled him with panic. He was worried their sudden emotion was due to the fact that they were hurt. After all, they weren’t wearing any shoes at this hour, what if they had been pierced with the glass? 

He rushed to his feet, sweeping them up into his arms, placing them in a chair away from the hazard. Tears still fell from their eyes, and now MC covered up their face with their hands to cover their small sobs. He got on one knee and quickly checked their feet and legs for any signs of cuts, not having the heart tonight to tell them how klutzy they were. 

There were no apparent signs of injury, and he allowed himself a moment to breathe in relief. When he looked back up at MC, ready to comfort and calm them, they now appeared fine. Their eyes were dry, albeit a bit red, and they gently shooed Lucifer away from their body. 

“I’m so so sorry, it was a complete accident.” MC refused to look into his eyes. 

He got back onto his own two feet, lips pursed together in a thin line of worry. He was aware it was an accident, but for the life of him, he didn’t know why MC would cry over something like that. Perhaps, they were scared of getting yelled by him? Or was there something deeper, the accident causing their emotional wall to crack poetically alongside the glass bottle. He opened his mouth to address the issue, but barely managed to let a syllable out before MC interrupted him. 

“I’ll go get something to clean it up,” they assured him, preparing to make a run for it. He hesitated for a moment too long, his mind running on fumes from being overworked. His reactions dulled, distracted by the lingering pain in his chest as the image of MC’s tears refused to leave his eyes. By the time he called out their name, they were already gone. 

He sighed, almost falling into the chair he had placed MC in, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “This human…” He sighed. He tilted his head back, his eyelids shutting. The heaviness of them refused to open back up till he heard the sound of glass pieces clinking together as they collided and scraped across his polished floor. 

He raised himself out of his seat, his body groaning, gravity working against him as his very being ached to continue resting. But he couldn’t just idly stand by as MC swept up the glass by themselves. He only needed to take a few long steps over to them, grabbing the broom handle with one hand. It wouldn’t budge in his tight grip. 

“MC, allow me, with all the glass around I fear for your safety. You forgot to bring proper footwear.” Both he and MC glanced down at their bare feet. MC worked on tugging the broom back to their possession. 

“No- I mean thank you, but, it’s my mess, I need to clean it up regardless.” 

“MC-” 

“Please!” Their loud tone stunned him. It was a plea of desperation, their voice cracking. His hold on the item loosened, and they tore the broom away from him without giving him the opportunity to fully let go. They immediately went back to work, brushing shards across the floor as they glinted, the light from the fireplace shining off of them. He was again reminded of their shimmering tears, but the expression of budding despair had left MC’s face a while ago. Now they just appeared as exhausted as he was. 

“Very well…” He couldn’t afford to spend the last of his energy pushing them any longer. Sitting back behind his desk, Lucifer forced himself to finish the last of his work. More often than not, he kept looking back up at MC. Their eyelids were low over their eyes as they focused on clearing away the mess. Never once did they look back at him. Their usual smiling mouth now waned. He watched them sweep away the big chunks of glass into a pan, pulling out a clean rag as they got to their hands and knees to wipe away the excess liquid. “MC?” The sound of his own voice almost sounded distant to him. 

“Hm?” They hummed, turning more in his direction but keeping their gaze from him. 

“Has anything been bothering you as of late?” He rested his chin in his hand as he leaned forward, his arm crooked on the surface of his desk. They turned their head away from him, resuming the cleaning. Their nose crinkled a little as the strong scent of his Demonus filled their nose. 

“No, I’ve been fine.” 

“And the crying earlier?” He found himself asking, unable to ease his own worries. “Are you sure you’re unharmed?” He found MC staring at the soaked rag, losing themselves in the sight of it. But it wasn’t the fabric they were paying attention to. 

“It was nothing.”  They had said it so quietly, he almost didn’t hear their answer. Lying always rubbed him the wrong way, it always insulted him. Yet, this lie didn’t quite seem to be directed towards him, he was getting the impression that they were mostly trying to lie to themselves. As if to further encourage this idea of his, MC repeated themselves. “It was nothing…” 

Lucifer examined the last of his work. There was still a bit left to finish, and he couldn’t remember the last time he brushed off his duties, no matter how minimal. Tonight, just for tonight, he thought. Maybe it would be alright. The papers on his desk he put aside, at the same time MC disposed of the trash, the floor as pristine as it had been a few moments before. 

“It is one of my duties as a member of the student council to make sure your needs are met.” He wasn’t wrong, this was true. It was a known job of everyone looking after MC to make sure their stay was as comfortable as possible. It would reflect positively towards the program. MC had heard the line before, and while he truly meant it, the words almost sounded empty to their ears. Lucifer had to swallow some of his pride, it tasted like his own personal poison. “So, you can talk to me about anything. I am...here for you.” 

For the first time since they descended down here, Lucifer finally got a glimpse of their protective walls falling completely. Their eyes threatened to start crying again, but Lucifer saw as their throat strained to push it back. 

“That’s part of the problem,” they croaked. 

He blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the answer. “P-pardon?” He was unaware his support and protection could be undesirable. 

“You and everyone else is always there for me, always strong, always helping me. And-” Their voice broke again as a single tear broke free from the struggle and rolled down their cheek. They only blinked once and he was right in front of them. The papers on his desk rustled and fluttered from the speed of his movement. His hand raised from his side for a second only to lower in disappointment as MC brushed their own tear away. “And I hate being a--being a burden. A weak and powerless human.” 

His mouth parted, open in mild shock as he processed slowly the words they were telling him. “MC…” 

“How...how am I supposed to make you proud when I can’t even hold a bottle correctly?” With the last words, the dam conjured of pure will that had been holding the river of tears at bay, broke, and once more they were crying in front of him. 

No more hesitation, no more prideful priorities, he held MC’s face with both hands, guiding them close to his body as he gave them a hug. They felt so small in his arms. He almost let out a laugh, but kept it to just a puff in his chest. He had no idea that the reason why they were so flustered was because their pride was wounded. He should’ve been one to know. He would’ve been upset too were he to be in their shoes. 

He found himself stroking their head, enveloping them in his embrace as he looked absentmindedly at the clean spot where all this had started in the first place. How much longer would MC have kept this from him had they not accidentally lost their grip? How much longer would he have unknowingly put pressure on their shoulders? 

“I am proud,” he told them, and MC’s shuddering shoulders started to halt. “Proud of your strength. Proud of your patience to deal with my...eccentric siblings. Proud of your stubbornness...even if it does sometimes drive me mad.” He swore he almost felt them laugh against his body, it brought a small smile to his face that he was thankful MC couldn't see. “You are not a burden,” he assured them sternly. “There are things that, even without magic, you’ve been able to accomplish where no other living being has.” He took them by the shoulders and moved them back so he could look at their face. “Be prideful of the things you’ve done, of the person you are. And if you cannot…” He lifted their chin with one hand, and then pressed his lips to their forehead. His lips were warm, almost even warmer than the words that spilled from them. It left MC’s mind fluttering. They couldn’t remember why they thought he was ever so cold. He parted from them, but the touch from his lips still felt like it lingered. “At least know I forever will be.”

[softslashers]

A Thousand Years (Part 1)

Pairing: Soulmate AU! Asagiri Gen x Reader

Word Count: 889

Summary: Everything you write on your skin appears on your soulmate’s as well. You had been writing to your soulmate as soon as you knew you could, the two of you hit it off instantly, as most soulmates do. You had found yourself falling madly in love with him, but were nervous to meet in person. He understood that, and reassured you that you had all the time in the world, he would never force you to meet if you weren’t ready, no matter how bad he wanted to know what you looked like. By the time you and your soulmate were 19, you finally decided that you were ready and wrote him a message asking to meet. Then there was a green light.

Warnings: Slight angst. Reader has some body image issues.

A/N: Also posted on my AO3 here. This was originally supposed to be a one shot, but I decided to make it a mini-series instead! Sorry that this first chapter is so rushed and all over the place, I was really tired when I wrote this, but I was excited and wanted to get it done. The next one will be better I swear! Yes it is inspired by the twilight song.

You had grown up on stories of soulmates, people finding their one true love and living out their fairy tale ending. It was easy to look forward to, dream of the day when the first letters would appear on your skin and you could get an idea of what your soulmate was like. Who they were, how they acted, what they wanted to be. You wanted to know it all.

The first time you noticed was when you were 12 years old, a simple ‘Hello?’ scrawled it’s way across the back of your hand in the middle of class. You had to stop yourself from letting out a squeal of excitement, a few of your classmates looking up from their work and turning to you, curious expressions on their faces. You had already picked up a pen and began writing your response, smile so wide your cheeks hurt, a simple ‘Hi!’ making its way onto your skin.

And like that, you had a best friend. Over the years, the two of you wrote back and forth every day, slowly learning about each other. Like most soulmates, you got along almost immediately, writing out novels on your skin in an effort to make up for the years that you hadn’t known each other.

You were 16 when he brought it up for the first time, asking you if you wanted to meet in person. To put a face to the name of the person you had grown so fond of over the previous 4 years. You wanted to, you really did, but you lived too far away and your parents were too hesitant to send you to meet a boy they had never met. Gen had been disappointed, but he didn’t let that curb his enthusiasm, stating that you could just wait a few years and try again.

The next time he brought it up you were both 18, and he seemed so excited. You felt horrible turning him down, stating that you ‘just too busy’ at the time. He had been quick to reassure you that that was okay, he was willing to wait for you, you were his soulmate after all. You hadn’t let him know the real reason, making you feel even worse about turning him down. You see, by this time, Gen had already made a name for himself as a mentalist, you knew that from what he had told you, but it didn’t really set in until you had seen him on TV in passing. That was the issue. You had seen him. You had seen him and he was absolutely beautiful, but he hadn’t seen you.  What if you had agreed and when he finally saw you after all these years he decided that you weren’t attractive enough and left you? You knew in your heart that this was not logical, Gen was your soulmate, and he wasn’t so shallow that he would just throw away the 6 years the two of you had put into your relationship over your appearance.

That didn’t stop you from worrying though, and the worry carried over in your writings. Gen could tell that something was off, something was bothering you and it was only getting worse with time. The first time he expressed his concern you had simply brushed it off, quickly changing the topic and avoiding confrontation on the matter, embarrassed to admit how you felt. Gen didn’t just drop it though, he just became more subtle in the ways he brought it up, not wanting to upset you.

It took a few weeks for you to come clean with your feelings, admitting to Gen that you had simply feared what he would think of you. He had been quick to reassure you, telling you he would think that you were beautiful no matter what you looked like, but if you weren’t comfortable meeting yet, he was okay with waiting, as long as you were comfortable.

Over the course of the next year, Gen had made it his goal to constantly remind you of your worth, not just in your appearance, but in every aspect of yourself, and shortly after you had turned 19, you made your decision. You wanted to meet Gen. The moment you had told him he immediately jumped to planning, figuring out when and where you could meet for the first time.

Not long after, you found yourself on your way to meet him, heart pounding in your chest as you arrived on the scene, taking a seat at the local café you had decided on. You had written to Gen earlier that day to let him know what you were wearing to make it easier to find you. The chime of the bell hanging above the door pulled you from your thoughts, looking up, you locked eyes with the familiar ones you had seen on TV for the first time a year ago, and Gen had known the instant he saw you, a genuine smile lighting up his features as he began to make his way towards you.

Just as the door closed behind him, the gasps of the other people in the café froze him in his place, turning to try to find the cause of the sudden shock, you were met with a bright green light, and then darkness.

[fairyoftbz]

Antelophobia | b. jacob

(n.) the fear of imperfection. the fear of never being good enough.

pairing: jacob x fem!reader word count: 2.2k genre: angst, fluff, suggestive ending TW: negative self-body image, insecurity, mention of scar(s) and recent surgery, suggestive A/N: I wrote this – while crying almost the entire time but nvm – because I’m trying to work on myself to reduce the self-hatred. Please be kind, I understand it doesn’t apply to everyone but maybe it can help someone feeling a bit better about their body (?) I also know and that it’s not something to expect on Valentine’s day, but I really wanted to give it a try! Thank you to all the lovelies for pushing me to post this, i hope it’s gonna be good enough ❣

“Hey babe, are you-” You gasped, covering your chest with your t-shirt as Jacob walked in on you changing, randomly asking you something. Your boyfriend quickly apologised but stayed, expecting you to keep doing as if nothing happened.

“Can... c-can you turn around, please?” You whispered, voice quavering, immediately alarming Jacob. He looked at you with wide eyes, your hand still clutching tightly the piece of fabric against your chest as he didn’t show any sign of leaving. After a few seconds of recoiling his thoughts, he cleared his throat and complied, whispering a soft apology. You swiftly put the t-shirt and a pair of leggings on, before allowing Jacob to turn around again.

He walked up to you and laid his hands on your hips, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“You know I love everything about you, including your body. You don’t have to feel so unsure of yourself when I’m around,” he rested his forehead against yours and you tightly hugged him, pressing your cheek against his collarbone before closing your eyes. It only has been two months since you started dating, and you weren’t truly comfortable with him seeing your entire body yet.

You were insecure about a lot of things, but your chest area was the main source of your lack of confidence. The rest of your body was fine, - it could be better, according to you -, but your chest, shoulders and back were your biggest issues. A pretty serious heart surgery took place a few months ago and the scar was still big and quite vivid on your skin, right in the middle of your breasts. The smallness of your chest reinforced this feeling of insecurity, so you tried to cover this area as best as you could.

“I hate this... part of my body, I don’t like showing it to anyone, I even myself struggle to look at it. As you could tell, I’m not really fond of plunging necklines and that type of revealing clothing,” you explained, hand hovering above your chest after taking a deep breath in, “I promise you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” You sadly chuckled as you realised how insecure and broken you were about your body and personality, your words making Jacob frown. “What do you mean by that?” His fingers dug into your hips as your words tried to make sense in his brain. “My chest is the most disgusting thing in the world, I really hate it,” you confessed, avoiding his gaze as you felt tears welling up in your eyes, throat tightening up. “I got a heart surgery months before we started dating and the scar is huge, right there in the middle.” You instinctively curled up against his chest, hiding yours with your arms as he soothingly rubbed your back, remaining silent for a few minutes. “I don’t want to show anything to you because I’m scared that you’d be disgusted by it and run away.” His hand stopped and he pulled away to stare at you deep in your eyes.

“I won’t leave you because of a scar Y/N, you’re worth more than that to my eyes. I love Y/N, and the whole package that comes along,” he cupped your face as tears rolled down your cheeks, wetting your neck. “I won’t let the voices in your head convince you that you aren’t worth anything or good enough.” He gently pushed your head on his chest again, as his rested against yours. “When I agreed on dating you, I knew I signed up for the best and the other unpleasant aspects. But you did that for me too. Because we’re willing to give a try and love each other. This scar won’t change the way I look at you nor will it change your personality. Plus, in my opinion, scars are kind of sexy, they make you look like a warrior.” Faintly chuckling as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, Jacob kissed the top of your head.

“You will show me your scar when you feel ready, and I promise I’ll still love you no matter how big and ugly you think it is.” “But aren’t you impatient of doing it?” You worriedly said and you felt him shook his head. “Make love to you? Baby, I’ll wait until you’re ready. I just want to make you feel comfortable enough that you want to reveal yourself to me. I don’t want to force you just because I asked for it. No, I want you to feel like doing it, feeling the desire, the passion, and when you’ll feel ready, we’ll get into action, okay sweetheart?” You nodded at his words, quite surprised at the amount of patience Jacob was willing to put into your relationship, unlike the few men that you dated in the past. “I love you no matter what. I hope it will be well imprinted in your brain one day.” Jacob’s thumbs caressed your cheeks until a smile appeared on your face. “I love you too, thank you for being so kind,” you whispered as he pressed his forehead onto yours. "You don't have to thank me for loving you the way you are."

___

The following week, as you were about to celebrate your third month with your boyfriend on Valentine’s day at an upscale restaurant, you decided that you would dress up nicely for him, but mostly for yourself. The feeling of being confident seemed so appealing, you couldn’t miss that opportunity to try and feel great about yourself.

You wore a black dress that settled right above the knee, the neckline landing lower than you normally wear. It wasn’t anything outrageous, but for the first time in years, you felt pretty and somehow, great. Tonight was the night where you would show your biggest insecurity to your boyfriend, because you felt ready. His reassuring words and constant affection towards you and your body made you slowly realise that there were people on this planet that were still good, ready to help and teach you how to love yourself.

Putting heels and makeup on after styling your hair, you timidly walked out the bedroom, only to find Jacob in the hallway, doing his tie knot in front of the mirror. He looked at you through the reflection, and his hands suddenly stopped working as shock crossed his face, his mouth dropping open slightly.

Turning towards you, Jacob grabbed your hand and made you slowly spin on yourself, taking your beautiful silhouette in. He etched every single detail and curve of yours onto his mind, creating a vivid memory at each blink. At this exact moment, he wished that he could tattoo a picture on his eyelids, because he wished for this frame to never leave his memory. It was the first time that he saw you dressed up like that, as you preferred pants and turtlenecks. It was a  pleasant surprise to see you like this for the first time.

“You look. Absolutely stunning.” He whispered in a breath as he held you close. You helped him with his tie as you felt red spreading all across your face at his compliment. His hands on your body felt different, needier, and you couldn’t deny it: this lustful sensation of attraction was something that wouldn’t be hard to get used to.

As you expected it, his eyes landed on your chest, your heart skipped a few beats all of a sudden. You felt ridiculously hot and wanted to free yourself from his grip to hide away, but his large hands kept you close. He looked back up, losing himself in your angelic eyes, breathing heavily.

“Do you really wanna go out tonight? It looks like I have a full course meal in front of me right now,” he said, planting a kiss on your cheek, a bit more strongly than usual. “Stop saying nonsense,” you giggled as you cupped his chin to make him look at you in the eyes. “I want to make you feel incredibly good tonight. Does it sound like a good plan to you?” He asked as his lips remained on your cheek, slowly travelling down to your neck. You grasped the hair at the back of his head and bit your lower lip, holding back a moan at the sensation of his lips on your neck. His mouth always managed to make your stomach churn and tonight, you were ready to feel him a bit lower than where he generally stopped. “Hm, does it? Answer me, baby,” he retorted, his finger under your chin to make you look at him.

“Jacob, I’m ready,” you took hold of his tie and pulled him to the bedroom. Your lover smirked at your behaviour and feverishly captured your lips into a passionate kiss, completely messing your red lipstick. He swiftly dragged down the zipper of your dress on your side and hooked a finger under the strap, dragging it down to your hips. You closed your eyes, profoundly inhaling as Jacob discovered your body and black lingerie for the first time.

His large, soft hands followed your sides, eyes exploring every inch of your skin on the way, making the hairs on your body stand straight. Your heart palpitated in your chest, out of nervousness or anticipation, you didn’t really know. You just knew that you felt good.

Loved.

Jacob’s eyes dawdled on your lingerie and curves before he gently pushed you down on the bed. You looked like a goddess to him and only the sight of you in undergarments drove him insane. Your face and personality really contrasted with the power of your body, the wonderful lust palace he’s been dying to reach. He attacked your shoulders and collarbones with kisses and hickeys like a starving man, his eagerness surprising you. You lost yourself in his intoxicating kissing, your breath catching in your throat as he started to go further down. Your boyfriend immediately sensed your apprehension and his mouth slowly backed up to a “safer” place for you.

“Is it okay? Remember that we can stop at any time. If you say “cherry” that means I have to stop, alright?” He mumbled against your hot skin as if he were scared to break this divine moment, the random word making you giggle alongside with him. You nodded before he started to teasingly tug on your lacy bra, making his way near your rib cage. Your heart sped up even more as his lips hovered above your scar, close to burst out of your rib cage. Your boyfriend took his sweet time to observe the surgical work on your chest, eyeing the meticulous details and the length. He looked up from his spot between your breasts as if he were asking for permission. You nodded again and exhaled deeply when his lips contacted the sensitive skin of your scar. It felt new and absolutely divine, albeit the sensitive area. So fragile that even you were yourself even scared to venture your hand near that spot to be curious of your scar.

Your heart was on fire, pulsating adrenaline, and unexpected lust in your veins. Jacob could feel your rapid throbbing on his lips, his hands immediately rubbing your hips soothingly.

“Your body is so beautiful, you don’t realise how many times I’ve dreamt about this moment,” your boyfriend mumbled between kisses, "feeling it, touching it, loving it, everything about you drives me insane, Y/N," your insecurities started to get progressively wiped away, thanks to the unconditional notice he bought to the body parts you hated the most. Bringing your attention back to your boyfriend and his roaming mouth, he didn’t need words to make you feel like the most beautiful person in the world. He left a trail of hickeys from your neck town on your chest with a huge smile on his face, creating an illusion that your scar was a branch, and the marks were blooming flowers appearing on your skin, petals flying up to your jaw.

“Jacob,” you whimpered as he stood eye-level with you, eyes filled with nothing but passion and yearning. You tangled your fingers in his soft locks and grinned from ear to ear. “I love you,” you admitted, and a wide smile appeared on your lover’s face. You meant it, his love painted on your skin only bringing you the joy and affection you were dying to receive, notwithstanding your flaws. His presence and love felt so comforting when you thought you deserved the void, and you couldn’t thank him enough for that. “I love you too honey, so much,” he kissed the skin below your ear, earning a soft moan from you. “Just. Let me show you how much I love you. I know words simply won’t be enough,” he added, looking at you again. “You’ll need actions to truly understand it,” he smirked as he kissed your stomach, cupping one of your breasts, his name coming out of your mouth in a breathy moan as he made his way down your stomach, sending you a suggestive wink from the dangerous zone he was about to explore.

[hermannsthumb]

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

-----------

Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

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

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

[itsthemoofacewriting]

Take them, they’re yours

For Ray, the person who is very quickly becoming my partner in crime for all things SaNami related. We did a trade; I wrote this for them, and in return she drew this masterpiece from a scene in ‘amongst the trees’.

I also have to thank them their endless patience as I wrote this and teased them as the word count steadily went up and up. I’m so sorry this took so long.

Let’s play a game (points for those that thought of Saw), there’s a line in here that inspired my very rude SaNami piece I posted recently, can you find the line?

So, it’s been shown time and time again that Sanji has good kenbunshoku haki but not the full extent of it, so please excuse some of the artistic liberties I took.

Summary: If it was between his hands or Nami, it would be Nami, every time, without question. Every. Damn. Time. Rating: T

You can also find this on AO3 and FFN.  

Enjoy!

It’d all gone so wrong so quickly.

“There he is! Vinsmoke!”

Instantly Sanji felt his mood flip like a switch, from content to enraged at the use of that name.

It’d been a wonderful day. Nami had agreed to come shopping with him and Chopper. Although he had a feeling Chopper had something to do with that more than him, but that was fine- he’d soak up any attention she gave him. They’d been shopping to do all the chores, such as food shopping and medical supplies, as well as some personal shopping for her. When they’d dropped everything back at the ship, Sanji had taken the bold step to suggest extending their trip out and invited them both to a café and, much to his relief, Nami had accepted.

But all of that came crashing to a halt as one man turned into two and then three, more and more men appearing from behind trees and shrubbery, creating a circle around them.

His eyes zeroed in on the guns some of them were equipped with.

“What the hell did you call me, shithead?” His voice threatening and all attention turned to him as he took a small step forward in front of Nami, Chopper the other side of her doing the same.

As he looked over the large group, he wondered how long they’d been following them and how they’d managed to go undetected.

It was their first day here and Luffy hadn’t even made a ruckus yet, so it was strange how they knew where they were but as he eyed his surroundings, from the large group to their location it started to make sense.

There was only three of them, him, Nami and Chopper, in a tight secluded spot, far away from their ship or the rest of the crew.

This wasn’t by chance.

This was planned.

It was an ambush.

And Sanji had let it happen. Something that could’ve been prevented, quite easily, if he’d been paying attention to his surroundings, instead of the gorgeous woman behind him.  

His question was ignored as, what he presumed was the leader, took a step forward and called out, “Take him alive, we can get more money for him that way.”

They weren’t marines or CP9, they didn’t care if he was dead or alive. It looked like they bounty hunters and he knew what they were thinking; he was a prince; he came from wealth and power. Something these people would be able to attain through him.

But they clearly didn’t know anything. Didn’t know that his family would happily see him die before handing over money or technology for his life and it was why he hated that poster so much. There were assumptions that came with his birthname and no matter how notorious he became in his own right he’d never be able to escape them.

“Take the woman too,” one of them added.

And that very title had dragged Nami into his mess.

Again.

“Chopper, take Nami back to the ship.” He wasn’t sure if Chopper was depressed at being overlooked, he was too busy staring the leader down.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you,” Nami said firmly, tone suggesting there was no room for discussion.

He wondered if she was thinking about Capone’s back on Zou. She hadn’t wanted to leave him then either, but she hadn’t had a choice back then. Now she had a choice, and from her rigid posture and frown, it was clear she wouldn’t be moving. The irony was that they only needed Brook and it’d be a reunion.

“Call the others, we found them!”

At least they weren’t being taken lightly, but that still wasn’t good. It was hard to believe there were even more of them considering the size of the group already.

“Chopper, go to the ship, get whoever’s on board.” The words felt bitter coming from his mouth, but it was no secret they were vastly outnumbered and if they managed to get their grubby hands on Nami, he’d have no choice but to surrender instantly.

Chopper looked like he wanted to argue, stand his ground just like Nami had, but he must’ve done the math; knew they’d come out of this better if there were more of them.

“I’ll be back!” He called, changing into his walking point and sprung between the men with ease, dodging their attempts to stop him.

They didn’t follow after him though, so at least that was one less person to worry about.

“Nami-san, do you have your climatact?” They were back-to-back now, and he chanced a glance over his shoulder to look at her, she looked fierce and determined.

“Of course.” Her hand disappeared down the front of her dress and he quickly averted his gaze because he really didn’t need that sort of distraction right now. He had to be on his game, because as much as he trusted Nami’s strength, he was still responsible for her.

A tension settled over the tiny clearing with both parties hesitant to make the first move, sizing up the other with a critical gaze. It finally shattered when a branch in the woods snapped, and it had the effect of a gunshot through the quiet clearing.

They’d been outnumbered plenty of times before, so they sprung into action just like they had in the past.

A glance over at Nami as he spun to kick someone in the face, and she was more than holding her own. It was a hard trying not to become distracted by her as they fought. She moved with such grace, body in total coordination whilst she twirled the baton between her hands, timing meticulous as the climatact extended and retracted to do the most damage.

But ultimately that was the issue.

Whilst they may have done this in the past, they did it under very different circumstances. They weren’t contained in such a tight space, with only the two of them and the opposition desperate to get one of them to the floor as they were now.

They could only keep them at bay, push them away before someone else was on them trying to pin them down.

There was too many of them to be able to fully take them down without the risk of being overwhelmed.

A quick scan told him they needed to do crowd control and do it now. He couldn’t take off into the air like he normally would, it’d leave Nami on the ground by herself and a flurry of kicks would be reckless in a tight space. If he hit her, even by accident, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

There was no thought process as he flipped into a handstand, moving away from Nami, and spinning on his hands. He ignored the grit and sharp pieces from the floor digging into his hands and instead focused on the people before him. They’d be up after a while, the move not doing enough damage to keep them down, but it’d be enough to buy him and Nami time and stop them being swamped.

Ultimately, his only goal was keeping her safe and their grubby hands off of her.

And it seemed her goal was similar to his. He knew it wasn’t for the same reason as his, but it made him feel warm at least that she cared for him that much.

With their similar goals, they were doing well at containment, even as Sanji moved slightly further away hoping to do a bit more damage without the risk of hitting her.

But all of that came abruptly crashing down.

In the heat of battle, his haki was better, he could sense the people around him and just about anticipate their moves, which was handy, and it guided him on where he needed to be. Right now though, it was heavily focused on Nami so he could get a feel for how she was doing without having to take his eyes off his opponents. She was focused and slightly anxious, but that was to be expected and he couldn’t sense any panic, so he trusted she was alright.

However, the feeling that came next had ice settling over his heart. Someone close reeked of ill intentions, repugnant thoughts almost brimming over, and that was saying something considering the group were all bounty hunters. But this was different from the rest of them, this individual was backhanded, immoral, a mixture of utter glee and vile motive.

It was that combination he didn’t like.

For the first time since developing his haki, he could make out a shadowy outline and it was over as quickly as it came on but there was no forgetting it, it was like he’d had a front row seat to a horror show. It’d been a shadow of a woman being shot from behind, her figure falling in slow motion to a heaped pile on the floor.

Despite it just being a shadow, there was no mistaking it, the woman from his vision was Nami. He’d know her presence anywhere.

It made him feel sick, but he didn’t linger on the image, instead he sent a forceful kick to the man in front of him and did a U-turn, charging towards her before he could think about what he was doing.

The voice in the back of his mind was chanting that he would be too late, be too slow and would be picking her body up from the floor before he could do anything. The people around him were forgotten in his single-minded devotion to get to her, shoving them out the way as he pushed any doubt out of his mind.

By hook or by crook, he would get there in time.

It wasn’t the heroic, princely move that he wanted or ever envisioned doing, but desperate times called for desperate measures as he hurled himself at her, outstretched arms curling around her and knocking her off her feet. The distinct sound of a gun firing went off as they started to fall to the floor, but it was okay, because he’d made it in time.

He spun them just in time that he ended up taking the brunt and they skidded on the ground, Nami clutched to him. His arm hurt and his back burned, his jacket no doubt shredded but the woman scrambling to get off of him was all worth it.

She was out of his arms and at his side, looking down at him with a frown. “Sanji, what are you- are you bleeding?!”

Her frown was gone, in place panic and when he looked down, he was greeted with a bloody arm. It twinged when he moved it but from what he could see, it was a graze.

It at least explained why his arm hurt.

Luckily the chaos bought them some time as the bounty hunters argued amongst themselves about the use of the gun that almost damaged their pay-check.

Just a shame it wasn’t all of them that were distracted.

He pushed up on that arm, ignoring the pain that flared from the wound in distress, and kicked one of the men that got too close to Nami. He shucked off his ruined jacket and threw it at another group starting to get too close and it gave him and Nami the time to get back on their feet.

But it wasn’t working like it was before, no matter how much they both pushed back, it felt like all of a sudden, the tables had turned. Where they’d been holding them back before they were now overwhelmed, barely keeping up with the punches. The distance they’d been able to establish was gone as the men crowded in and it was relentless.

He was being reckless, he knew he was, as he threw himself around with very little regard for himself, but he’d be damned if what he saw came to life. He didn’t care what happened to himself and at the end of the day, what was a scratch or bruised rib if it meant a healthy Nami.

His recklessness soon cost him when he fell to the floor a second time, but not of his own free will this time. Someone had taken him by surprise with the end of their gun and as his brain rattled, he knew that hit held the intention of trying to knock him out.

His head throbbed at him, almost begging him to stay down, but if he went down, it would only be Nami left, and he couldn’t leave her. With that thought in mind, he swept out his leg, knocking the other man to the floor before he could get in a hit that actually did finish him. He fought through the way his vision blurred and how the world wouldn’t stop moving as he stood to his feet.

“Sanji-kun! Are you okay?” She grunted; voice strained as she pushed someone back with her climatact and swung it around to hit someone else, unable to spare a moment to really look at him.

Nami was doing the best she could to cover him whilst he recovered but the group were getting frustrated by him and Nami’s resilience, it was clear as day in the way their moves were turning desperate and more vicious by the second. The earlier words of taking him alive seemed to be slipping from their minds, which worried him because so far, their gun use has been severely limited but if that changed…

“As long as you are, I am,” he replied, getting to his feet and at this point it was pure adrenaline keeping him up.

“Then think about what you’re doing!” She barked, smacking someone around the head.

From there on, the fighting had shifted. It’d turned into a free for all and Sanji silently willed Chopper to reappear because he was aware of the ticking clock working against them now. If the rest of the bounty hunters group showed up, they’d be done for.  

Now, Sanji knew the score amongst the seas, he knew pirates, marines, bounty hunters had no honour, it wasn’t something to be expected from others, regardless how he felt about it.

But when he caught a flash of silver glinting at him from the corner of his eye, he felt his blood heat. If he thought he was angry before this, it was nothing compared to the man raising his knife on an unsuspecting Nami and he was flipping onto his hands to get in between them.

It was his sloppiness that put himself in this position. A position where he hadn’t been quick enough to position himself and in a last-ditch attempt, he found himself catching the man’s arms before he could bring the knife down on Nami’s back.

For the first time since Enies Lobby, he’d been forced to fight with his hands.

He’d dealt with enough squirming ingredients in his lifetime to have a firm grip, but the last thing he’d expected was for the man’s arms to slip straight through his hands like butter, along with the knife.

He hissed and recoiled in pain as he felt it slowly slice through the skin, his hand throbbing at him. It felt like it’d happened in slow motion, and he didn’t need to look down to know it was bleeding- he could feel it.

He hadn’t for one second expected a devil fruit and that was on him.

The man smirked nastily, proud of getting the better of him and what he wouldn’t do to plant his foot in the man’s face, but Nami’s voice behind interrupted, “Sanji, duck.”

He did so without hesitation, dropping to the ground and watched as Nami’s climatact stabbed the man in the face before twirling it between her hands to knock down anyone close enough.

He felt proud watching the damage she did until she turned her gaze on him and that vanished because of the look on her face. For the first time, he couldn’t read it. She looked pale and for a split second he was worried she was hurt until he watched her eyes flick from his face to focus on his hands.

He’d only caught a quick look at his hands but that was bad enough.

He flipped onto his hands, burying his bloodied palm into the dirt, to kick the man trying to sneak up behind Nami. If he thought his arm hurt, it was nothing compared to the heat flaring angrily from his palm. Grit burying itself in all the cuts on his palms, large or small, but he ignored that in favour of flipping and throwing himself back into the fray.

He couldn’t let up for even a second.

Although he didn’t want to entertain the thought, he was tired, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last. Everything was working against him, his head still throbbed, his arm and hands both competing for which would burn stronger, and he couldn’t remember how it happened, but his ribs had begun to protest.

But he wouldn’t give until Nami was safe, that was why he wouldn’t entertain any thoughts of stopping. He couldn’t and wouldn’t until he could ensure her safety and that’s what kept him going.  

It could have been a minute or an hour but the distant sound of ‘oni giri’ had relief flooding through him, for once happy to hear Marimo’s voice and his body gave up, right then and there. He slumped to the floor against his will; he was tired, his head was killing him, and his hands burned. From the cut to the dirt in the cut and everything in-between that’d made itself at home in the skin of his palms.

“Sanji-kun!” Nami’s distressed voice called out to him.

The last thing he saw was the stunning, unharmed, face of Nami, crouched over him, calling his name.

That was a good way to go down, in his opinion.

“Sanji!”

.

.

.

His head throbbed as he came to, and he groaned when he touched his forehead. Everything hurt. His head, hand, and arm. His hands. He tried to sit up, but his ribs protested, and he mentally added his body to the list.

An ambush. Just him and Nami. Someone trying to shoot her.

It all came flooding back and headache be damned, he opened his eyes to scan his surroundings. He instantly recognised Chopper’s medical room, so he could relax a bit but then his eyes caught the flash of orange beside him.

Nami.

She was facing away from him but from what he could glean she looked okay, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The movement caught her attention and she turned to face him. She still looked fine, but he had to ask, “Are you hurt?”

“You’re seriously asking me that right now?” Her voice filled with disbelief.

He didn’t respond, continuing to stare up at her, waiting for her answer.

She shook her head. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

“As long as you’re fine, then I’m fine,” he parroted his earlier words, and it was true. The ache in his head worth it all to see her well. She didn’t look like she believed him and snorted, turning back around to grab more things.

As happy as he was that she was there, he’d been expecting Chopper flitting around him instead. “Where’s Chopper?”

“He’s dealing with the other idiots,” she said, sitting on the chair next to the bed.

“Chopper checked you over before going. You’ve got a minor concussion, we haven’t scrambled your brain yet.” Her lips curved up and she added, “Well, no more than normal.”

“Being around you scrambles my brain.”

“Which is normal,” she teased, grinning at him.

He laughed lightly but his ribs still protested angrily. He didn’t manage to smother the grimace in time and the smile slipped off her face as she turned to the side, gathering the supplies she’d need.

“We can deal with that later,” he said frowning, slowly sitting up and building momentum to get off the bed. “They put themselves out, the least I can do is make sure they’re fed.”

“You’re not leaving this bed!” Nami snapped, hand on his shoulder pushing him down.

He’d wanted to hear that from her mouth for as long as he’d known her, and he’d store that sentence away for later, but it was hard to be happy about it when her words were paired with the firm set of her mouth and furrowed eyebrows.

She was upset.

He’d upset her.

He laid back without any further resistance and the stiffness from her shoulders relaxed. He didn’t say anything else as she sat down on the chair next to the bed, her hands reaching for his.

“I haven’t seen you spin on your hands in ages,” Nami said, her thumb brushing over the pulse at his wrist to avoid any of the small injuries to his hand. “I can see why now.”

There were two bowels on the bed, and it wasn’t rocket science to realise what they were for. One was filled with water and the other empty bar a pair of tweezers.

She moved one of the bowels closer to them and cupped his hands. “Deep breath,” she told him and then dunked his hands into the bowel filled with water.

It stung, the water working its way into all of the cuts, but he didn’t complain. He wouldn’t, because she was safe, and this was the most she’d ever touched him, and it was so gentle. She held his hands in the water a second longer before lifting them out and onto a towel.

The, now murky, water filled bowel was moved onto the bedside table and the other bowel moved closer. She picked up the pair of tweezers with one hand and cupped one of his hands with the other. Her touch was delicate, and his hand went limp under her touch, letting her move it into the position she wanted.

With his palm facing the ceiling, she worked on getting all the various pieces lodged into his skin out. She was clinical in her movements, methodical as she moved over the skin, but she was gentle about it. She tried her best to do so without having to dig, but some of it was unavoidable.

For all her professionalism, once she’d pried a piece out the thumb from her free hand would rub a little circle into the side of his hand. He wasn’t sure if she was soothing herself or him, but it made him smile and goosebumps erupted over his arms.

With Nami focused on his hands, he had the luxury of looking over her face. Her face the picture of concentration, from the pinched lips to her furrowed eyebrows. Beneath the focus, she looked tired, but there wasn’t a single scratch on her face, and he was proud of that. Come tomorrow, she’d be back to her smiling self.

She moved onto the second hand, placing the first down onto the towel, and although she’d been doing it a while now, she was still just as doting and attentive to the other hand.

Brown eyes met his, finally acknowledging his staring and her hands stilled their work. “What?”

“My own personal nurse,” he joked, hoping to make her smile.

“Don’t imagine me as a nurse! We don’t need to add blood loss to the list of problems!” She scolded, lips pulling slightly at his antics but not what he’d been aiming for as they lapsed back into silence, and she continued with his other hand.

He hadn’t let himself look down at his hands before now, mainly because he didn’t need the distraction at the time but because it wouldn’t really make a difference how they looked. They looked like they’d been through the ringer though. Far worse than when he’d first learned to cook, where his fingers had been constantly burned or cuts had littered his fingers and palms from inexperience. Stains of dirt still remained in patches where it had resisted the first wash, and it clung to all the little openings from where anything sharp had been buried. All those openings were angry and red, some bleeding a little from where they’d been pulled about to get the bits of debris out.

Then there was the large cut spanning his left palm.

If the small cuts were angry, then that was furious, from the raw skin to the dried blood on his skin that would need a few more persuasive washes before coming out clean. It was long and deep, but he didn’t dare flex his hand to see just how deep it went into his palm. Thankfully it’d stopped bleeding but, in its place, it oozed instead.

That wouldn’t heal quickly.

But as he looked at his hands, he didn’t feel any strong emotion. He felt neutral. He wasn’t happy of course, but there wasn’t an ounce of regret. He’d do it again a million times over just to see Nami unharmed.

And he realised right then, if it was between his hands or Nami, it would be her every time. No questions asked, no hesitation.

It felt like it should be a huge earth-shattering moment, where the axis suddenly shifted, and all the pieces aligned into a moment of pure epiphany, because he’d said all his life how important and sacred his hands were. Yet it felt very matter of fact, like it just made sense and had never been any different. Sanji supposed, it never had been any different. Not for a long time at least.

“Look at your hands,” Nami mourned, face drawn and thumb focusing on cautiously tracing alongside the wound.

She’d said it so quietly he wondered if it was meant to be said to herself only. She was beautiful no matter what, but he hated that look on her face and he hated that he was the cause of it.

His uncut hand lightly gripped her hand. “I’d do it again.” He would, in a heartbeat. His gut flaring the exact same way it had just this morning.

“Don’t.” She looked at him sharply. “I don’t want you to.”

He knew what she wanted him to say, what she expected him to say because she’d known him for so long. But on this occasion-

“No.”

He’d never refused her before in all the time of knowing her. He’d always catered to her whims or discussed anything they’d disagreed on, coming to a mutual agreement before moving on. He’d never refused her so outright, so firmly and he would not budge on it. He refused to.

But as adamant as he felt about it, she looked just as equally defiant based on the tight expression she was giving him.

“Look at your hands,” she said sternly and held his hands up as if he’d see them clearer that way, “These are your dreams, your life, your everything. Don’t expect me to sit here and agree as you recklessly throw it away.”

Although he wasn’t shocked about his new revelation regarding his hands, it was still a revelation all the same and he found himself disagreeing with what she’d said. She was worth it all, it wasn’t reckless when it concerned her.

The next thought was at the tip of his tongue, threatening to bubble over past his lips but he hesitated. He knew what he was about to say would spook her, make her skittish and knew that his feelings for her weren’t returned- and that was okay, he just wanted to be around her, in whatever way he could.

Ultimately, he threw caution to the wind because when did he ever not give his all to everything he did?

“A life without you in it isn’t worth living.” And he meant it, with every fibre of his being. It’d be hollow without her smile, her laugh, her everything, brightening up his day. His dream of all blue was grey without the smart, caring and sassy navigator at his side, regardless of whether she returned his feelings.

“You’re being dramatic.” She didn’t sound sure; she didn’t look sure. He’d surprised her, he realised after a second, with such a sweeping statement. And it was warring with her anger over his refusal just seconds before.

“I’m not,” he said firmly, trying to get the message across.

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do it for anyone else in this crew.” She was deflecting.

She had him there though. The same gut instinct flared up. “You’re right.”

But the feeling was different. They were his family; he’d do anything for them but her. Her. Nami. The sun rose and set with her. She was the first thing he thought about and the last at the end of the day. Her happiness was his happiness.

“But it’s different with you,” he continued, adamant.  

This was the last thing he’d expected when he’d woken up and perhaps now wasn’t the best time to be doing this. He still had a concussion, and they were currently mid disagreement (he wouldn’t call it an argument) but he didn’t want the moment to pass. He didn’t want to try again later, to try and regain the moment they were currently in.

“Don’t change the subject.” She wouldn’t make eye contact, but she was still holding his hands.

“I’m not, it’s all relevant,” he insisted, and it was. He needed her to see that. This wasn’t something he just did on a whim.

It was silent as they stared each other down, willing the other to give. Well, Nami was actually glaring at him, which he could understand but he wasn’t giving in on this. He just couldn’t, it went against everything he felt so strongly about, but it still made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

The door to the med bay creaked open, breaking the stalemate as Chopper poked his head through. He hesitated at the door when he picked up on the odd tension. Sanji was just about to ask for ten more minutes because they were nowhere near done but Nami stood, his hands falling from her grasp onto the bed.

“Nami-san,” Sanji called after her, a battered hand feebly stretched out.

“He’s all yours,” she said to Chopper as she passed him.

She didn’t look back as she left, the door closing behind her.

.

.

.

Nami wasn’t speaking to him.

She was also actively avoiding him since the med bay and that had been yesterday. He wasn’t sure if it was because of their disagreement (not argument) or because in a roundabout way he’d confessed and made her uncomfortable.

He may regret the timing of the confession, no matter how right it had felt, but he didn’t regret their disagreement, not then and not now, even as Nami quickly left the kitchen without looking at him.

It stung a bit though.

Her reaction confused him though, he was expected to be yelled at or hit instead of silence, but he’d give her the space she clearly wanted for the rest of the day and then smooth it over tomorrow. Who knows, maybe he’d get that reaction tomorrow. He just hated the tension between them and the confused looks he kept receiving from the rest of the crew.

For now, he was looking down at a bowel of hot water and a pile of dishes that needed washing up. Chopper hadn’t mentioned about getting his stiches wet, but he figured he could always get the dressing covering his stiches wrapped again afterwards. Someone else in the crew would do the dishes, he knew that, but they’d already bailed him out once and the stiches would be in for at least a week, he should be able to do this himself. Dinner hadn’t been too bad, the hand with stitches twinged slightly and his arm where a bullet had skimmed had protested when he lifted it above his head, but he was no whiner.

So he cracked on, picking up the first plate and sponge to wash it with.

“Put down the plate,” a steely voice said from behind him.

Nami stood in the doorway, a vision of loveliness as she glowered at him with her hands on her hips.

She strode in, pushing the door closed behind her. “I saw everyone come out of the kitchen and I knew what you were doing, you big idiot.”

She snatched the towel of his shoulder and threw it onto the counter next to them when she reached him, eyes fiery and although he was taller than her, he’d never felt smaller in front of her.

Shit, he wasn’t ready for this, he thought as his palms started to sweat. Sure, he’d planned on talking to her tomorrow, but that was tomorrow, he would have had time to think it through before then.  

“Did you mean it?” She asked, her tone neutral now and that only made him feel more on edge, that any wrong answer would have him toppling off the deep end.  

He didn’t know what part of their conversation yesterday she was referring to, but there was no part he’d take back, even if it did make her angrier.

“Every word,” he said with surety, jaw set and staring into her eyes, trying to match his words so she understood.

She sighed deeply and he was bracing himself because that couldn’t be good.  

“I’m still upset about this.” Her fingers tentatively grazed his bandaged hand and if they didn’t break plates as quickly as he knew they did, he would have dropped it then and there just to take her hand.

Instead, he put the plate down on the side, resting the sponge on top and he was going to gather her in his arms to hug her because he hated that he’d upset her, but she took his hands, stopping him in his tracks.

It was quiet as she looked down at his hands, palms facing upward so his cuts and bandage was on full display. It was a much better sight than yesterday; the rawness had faded, and the gruesome display of his wound hidden behind white cloth.

He was jarred from his observations when she let go of one of his hands and instead used it to trace along the bandage, fingers light as it travelled along his hand, retracing the length of the cut and although it may be hidden by a bandage, it might as well have not been by how accurately her fingers moved along it.  

“I’m angry that you’d throw this all away,” she said lightly, voice even and it didn’t match her words. Her fingers stopped their journey to cup his hand as if to make her point and he didn’t need her to explain what she meant.

He didn’t want to argue but the way he felt still hadn’t changed. “Nami-”

“I’m not finished talking!” She snapped and his mouth shut without another word.

“I’m angry that you don’t trust me.”

Oh God, no. That was never what this was about, and he hadn’t even contemplated how she might think that. He didn’t care whether she was done talking or not, he was ready to shut that down but then her next words stole the breath from his lungs.

“But mostly, I’m angry that after all this time you don’t value yourself. Everything we’ve been through, and you still throw yourself in as if it means nothing.” Her eyes seared into his and like a coward he turned to the floor, unable to bear the brunt of that look.

His previous life might be well behind him now, but he couldn’t just switch off all the things that’d been said to him in his youth. It made it hard to believe that someone could care about him, care about his life to that extent. But it wasn’t an excuse; he knew that, and he knew the people on this ship felt very differently about him but that didn’t stop the thoughts in his head sometimes.

Another reason came to mind, but it made his chest constrict painfully, like he couldn’t breathe, and he always desperately tried not to think about it for too long for that very reason. It was the death of his mother. It hurt, it ached, and it haunted him in the quiet moments when it was just him and his memories. How he’d been helpless, unable to do anything as he lost her, and he wouldn’t see it happen again. Didn’t want to see it happen again, not if he could help it. The thought of losing someone precious whilst he lived on would be unbearable to live through again.

Both tied so deeply into one another, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to pry them apart and let them go.  

She gripped his hand, trying to get his attention from his thoughts and staring match with the floor but the best he could do was look at their joined hands.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she said it softly, but it was so loud in the quiet kitchen.

“And I don’t want to lose you,” he said earnestly, his free hand coming to rest on top of hers, to feel the warmth on her skin because his chest tightened at the thought of her not being around.

She considered him for a second and he wondered if this was the start of another disagreement before she delivered, “The way you feel about me getting hurt, why do you think it’s any different when it’s you?”

The way he felt about her…

Oh.

And just like that, the tables had turned. He looked at her face, scanning, searching for the answer to a question he hadn’t yet verbalised whereas she wouldn’t look at him, resolutely looking down at their joined hands.

Her bashfulness gave him the courage to ask.

“You mean…?”

He was met with silence but that didn’t dishearten him, his heart felt as if it was going to burst through his chest at any moment, as hope foolishly blossomed in his lungs because surely, she didn’t feel the exact same way as he did. Surely not. Not for him.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, frowning and his heart sunk.

“But I’m the idiot that wants you.”

He’d imagined this moment so many times, played this over and over in his daydreams but it didn’t hold a candle to the actual moment. He was speechless and his heart was doing summersaults from the roll coaster ride it had been on in the last minute. He still wondered if he was asleep, if he would wake up any second to the cruel reality it was in his imagination again.

“I expected more enthusiasm,” Nami said dryly, smirking and she was back to looking him in the eye.

“I just…” ‘didn’t expect it. Ever.’ Is what he wanted to say but she had, and he didn’t want to tar the moment with his insecurities. Although someone would need to pinch him later.

“I know you’re not going to give on your recklessness, it’s partially why I was so angry, but just so you know Black Leg Sanji this is a two-way street-” she leaned in, eyes alight with confidence- “and I’ll be fighting just as hard for you.

She wouldn’t need to, he’d make sure he was more than enough for the both of them, but her words made him smile, made him feel delirious and the nasty thoughts at the back of his mind were quiet for once.

But there was something he had to clear up first.

“Nami-san, I’ve never thought you were weak. Never thought you weren’t capable. You’ve proven time and time again you can protect yourself, but if I can prevent you getting hurt, I’m going to.”

She breathed heavily through her nose but smiled softly. “All I ask, is that you at least consider your hands when doing stupid things.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She laughed, short and sharp. “That’s the most I’m going to get from you, so stop messing around and kiss me already.”

He gaped at her like a fool, he’d expected so much more than this, more arguing, more talking, more back and forth. That internal dialogue came to a screeching halt when Nami, bored of his staring, grabbed the lapels of his jacket and brought him into a searing kiss.

Fireworks, sirens, alarms were all going off in his head as he scrambled to catch up, but she was persistent, lips coaxing and hands tightening on the lapels, urging him along. All of those noises faded away into bliss when he reciprocated in kind, seizing the moment he’d waited so long for.

For the first time since it’d been wrapped on his hand, he cursed the bandage that was denying him feeling the soft skin of her arm. That was pushed to the back of his mind when she pulled on his jacket, pressing them closer together and his hands moved to her back to diminish any space left between them. At least his fingers could enjoy the delicate skin of her back exposed from the halter top she wore.

They pulled apart, breathing heavily and he was trying his best to take in her face.

“What a poorly timed confession,” she teased, lips brushing against his as she spoke.

“I know.” He cringed, she deserved so much more than this.

“I expect you to make it up to me.” Her lips curved upward.

“For as long as you’ll let me.”

Her eyes crinkled and the teasing expression was gone, replaced with softness. “Good answer.”

The next kiss was slow, and he was ready for it this time as he put his all into it. Lips caressing, heads tilting to find the right angle and they soon found their rhythm. Daringly he brushed his tongue along the seam of her lips and their tongues brushed when she parted her lips. As much as he liked their first kiss, the second was his favourite as he got to take his time as he tasted her and listened to the little breathy noises she made.

He looked forward to having more favourites with her.

“Seeing as I can’t get my stitches wet, maybe you’ll help me in the shower,” he muttered when they pulled apart briefly.

She leaned up on her toes and he had expected her to kiss him again, she was so close he could almost taste her on his lips when she whispered, “Ask Zoro to wash your back.”

That threw cold water on the mood and the image that popped into his head was enough to make a nasty shiver slither down his spine. “That’s not funny, Nami-san.”

Nami laughed, eyes crinkling and face lighting up at the displeased look on his face and as horrified as he was with her suggestion, it was the look on her face he adored seeing.

“I’m sure something can be arranged,” she said once her giggling had resided.

He leaned down to kiss her again, but she took a step away, swiftly dodging arms that tried to drag her back in. When he went to follow her, his world went black as she threw the tea towel on his head.

“Come on, I’ll wash, you dry.”

Yeah, he regretted nothing. He’d do it a hundred times over again now and in the future, just so he could have this with her.

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

Listen, I just love the way Sanji feels about Nami, and I channelled all of that into this. He adores her, she’s the one for him, he’s her number one cheerleader. I HAVE SO MANY FEELS.

I have a head canon that Sanji stopped doing those kicking handstands because he’d get scratches and splinters in his hands afterwards and that defeated the purpose of fighting with his legs (even if I think they do look super cool!). I’m sure the manga will prove me wrong, but I can’t recall him doing it since pre time skip.

Just in case you didn’t read my other (filth) fic, Ray started a SaNami discord group, it’s a chill place to chat and share your love for this pairing. If you’d like to join, message me on here or Twitter and I’ll send you the link (Please make sure I can message you back!). Feel free to join, the more the merrier!

As always, please excuse any errors.

Thank you to Ray for this lovely trade and to everyone for reading.  

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥The Angelus Mortis (1/2)🔥

A/N: Hey everyone, I’m back! I apologize for the really long wait but I wanted to try something different where, instead of posting one story at a time as soon as I finish it, I wrote five stories and then I went back and edited them in the order I wrote them. It took so long because I’ve been writing a ton in the past week.  Hopefully I can make up for the long wait by giving you guys several stories in the next few days or so. Thank you so much for the support on “Scalding”, I was not expecting it but it makes my really happy to know you guys liked it ❤️. Now, without further ado, here is my next Levi x Reader fic!

Warning: This one is super long so I actually had to split it up into two parts so it wouldn’t be such a huge pill to swallow. I will post the next chapter asap though, so keep an eye out for part two!

Summary: Erwin finds a dangerous assassin in the Underground while Levi is on a solo mission.

~~~

Erwin sighed and rubbed his temples to try to dispel the headache that was already building there, the message from the Military Police on his desk, mocking him. He glared at it, his eyes scanning over the words again.

Gods they were so incapable. He would never voice his frustrations aloud, but he wished, for once, they could deal with their own issues. Fight their own battles without having to drag the Survey Corps back to do all of the hard work for them. 

Despite his annoyance, Erwin would not have normally been so frustrated, but this situation was different than usual due to the fact that Captain Levi was gone from the base. He had been sent off on a solo mission to get some more information for Erwin on the movements of the violent gangsters that were fighting with one of the Military Police branches.

“What’s today’s headache about?” The loud, chipper voice of his girlfriend, Hanji, made him look up and grunt at her and the stack of finished reports she held in her arms.

“Oh, I just received a message from the Commander of the Military Police. There is a dangerous assassin who has been cutting down the MP’s that venture into the Underground. Apparently, this guy is impossible to catch and incredibly ruthless, known to leave pieces of the soldiers around for the officers to find later. They want us to go down there and find them, put an end to them before they wipe out an entire regiment.”

Hanji leaned her hip against Erwin’s desk and raised her eyebrow at her partner as she listened to the gruesome things the assassin had done.

“Holy shit…, who are you going to send? Levi is on that solo mission,” Hanji said.

“Yeah that’s the problem,” Erwin responded. “I’m going to have to be the one to go. I’m not going to send someone who will lose their life on this mission. There is no need to waste lives on something as trivial as catching this guy. Also, if he’s impossible to catch, the only one other than me who has enough experience with the ODM gear to navigate the Underground would be Levi, who you pointed out is not here at the moment.”

“Well, I’m coming with you then,” Hanji said. “Someone will need to watch your back, and be there to bring you back to the surface if you end up getting your ass handed to you.”

Erwin smiled at her as he shook his head.

“I’m not going to lose this fight.”

“Oh ho ho, tough guy! Such confidence, I can’t wait to watch your ass hit the ground when that assassin shows you a couple of choice moves,” Hanji chortled.

“Your obsession with my ass is noted. Now go get ready, we are leaving in an hour,” Erwin said, his eyes twinkling as he teased her.

Hanji’s laughter bounced around the halls as she exited his office to pack her things and prepare for the trip to the Underground.

__________________________

Levi grumbled lowly to himself as he nursed a glass of whiskey, his silver eyes appraising the other people in the bar in annoyance. The Captain was not normally one to drink, especially back at the base, but after having to deal with some of the most annoying people on the planet, he felt as if he deserved to relax a little.

At least neither Erwin nor Hanji were with him. That was one of the only reasons he was able to convince himself to go into the old bar; not having to worry about Erwin pressuring him to loosen up, or Hanji trying to wrestle secrets about his life out of him while he was drunk.

Levi took a sip from his glass. The alcohol slid down his throat, leaving a fiery trail in its wake to settle in his stomach, the warmth spreading throughout his gut. The whiskey was starting to loosen the headache that was holding his skull captive, allowing the usually stoic Captain to settle a bit more in his seat, enjoying the relative silence of the dingy establishment.

All day he had been forced to fight with violent gangsters, helping one of the Military Police branches arrest the most aggressive ones and scaring away the others. The whole day had been a loud, frustrating, exhausting experience, making Levi almost miss his normal expeditions outside the walls with the Titans. At least it was his last day in this shit hole, finally able to return to the base in the morning now that all of the criminals had been successfully rounded up.

Thinking about the men and women he had helped put away that day, combined with the alcohol that was circulating through his system, made his mind stray back to memories from his Underground days. For the most part, he tried to forget about his past, thoughts about his time down there, only bringing up bitter emotions. It was like reliving a nightmare over and over again. 

He huffed as he tried to lead his train of thought elsewhere to no avail, his mind flooding with images from his childhood, his struggle as he and his friends fought for survival. His mind even dragged up a foggy image of a beautiful face from the dregs of his past before he quickly diverted his train of thought, refusing to think about that face, that loving smile.

Levi didn’t know if he was lucky or unlucky when his spiraling thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a woman. She wearing a severe red dress that pushed her cleavage up so her breasts were almost spilling out over the top, her lips pursed as she sat herself across from him.

Levi refrained from groaning aloud in frustration, wanting absolutely nothing to do with the woman in front of him, but also recognizing that a tiny part of him was grateful for her intrusion, distracting him from sinking further into the dark memories of his past. Now, he just had to figure out how to shrug this woman off as she leaned forward, so obviously trying to get into his pants he was surprised there was not a ‘FUCK ME’ sign strapped to her chest.

Levi scowled and pulled away from her when she went to touch his arm. To his annoyance, the woman laughed instead of moving away, her eyes sparkling with barely disguised lust as she looked him up and down.

“Look, I’m not interested,” Levi said bluntly.

“Come on, handsome, it won’t hurt for you to relax, why don’t we ditch this joint?” the woman purred.

Levi rolled his eyes so hard he was worried he’d strained something. The situation reminded him of all of the times Hanji had tried to set him up, ignoring his protests and forcing him to meet women from all walks of life despite the fact that he turned them all down without a second thought. It bothered him to no end, not only because it was annoying as hell, but also because there was only one person he had ever given his heart to, and she was gone. Nobody could ever replace her, it didn’t matter that she wasn't around to love him anymore, he refused to be with anyone else.

He figured some people would probably see this as childish, but he didn’t care. To him, he didn’t have a heart left to give, the organ dying with his lost love all those years ago.

“Not interested.”

The woman pouted but moved closer still, practically leaning into him despite his grimace of disgust.

“You don’t mean that, baby, you look like you could use a good time. Here, let me help you. I know exactly how to make you feel better. Have you ever felt the stars? Because you’re about to…,” the woman said boldly, her hand slowly drifting downward.

Levi stood up so fast he almost knocked the table over. His glare was fierce as he slammed his empty whiskey glass on the table. Piercing her with his sharp gaze, Levi snarled lowly at her.

“Not. Interested.”

Grabbing his cloak, Levi stormed out of the bar in even worse spirits than before, memories of the face that haunted his dreams floating across his mind to tease at the edges of his broken heart. Growling to himself, Levi was only grateful that he was leaving in the morning as his feet carried him back to the shitty inn he was staying in for the duration of the mission.

____________________________

This was a bad idea. Scratch that, this was a horrible idea. Erwin laid on the filthy street of the Underground, hidden in the shadows of an alleyway, holding his hand to his shoulder where a dagger was lodged, gritting his teeth as he fought back the bile that rose in his throat at the pain swelling in his body. 

He had no idea where Hanji was, the pair having been separated when they were attacked out of nowhere. Erwin realized now as he lay in the dirt that he had severely underestimated this man, the assassin who got hired to kill the most powerful soldiers and officers in the military. He had read about his strength, but even with that information, he had not expected the fight to be so overwhelming.

This man was dangerous. Very dangerous. Erwin knew from the reports that the killer worked alone, using wit and cold, calculated cunning to attack in ways that not even the veteran soldiers had seen before.

Erwin’s thoughts were suddenly cut short when he heard a pained shriek, one he immediately knew to be Hanji, and watched in horror as a figure slowly came around the corner, holding the limp form of his comrade in his grip.

Hanji let out another pained noise as the figure threw her right at Erwin, the Squad Leader hitting her Commander, causing them both to grunt. Looking down, Erwin saw that Hanji had a long gash down her side, but it didn’t look very deep and she didn’t seem to have any more wounds other than some bruising. A warning.

Erwin managed to hide his nearly imperceptible sigh of relief at the thought that this assassin was considering sparing them if they only left him alone. He knew that he could never leave the assassin alone forever, but if it gave them the chance to get to safety, he could come back another time with reinforcements. It was only one man. A very powerful man, but a man nonetheless, he wasn’t invincible.

Forcing down the whimper that bubbled in his throat when Hanji moved against his shoulder, shifting the blade in his flesh, Erwin locked his eyes on the figure that was still watching them, the darkness of the alley covering any distinguishable features. The only thing Erwin was able to make out was that the figure looked smaller than he imagined. But the seasoned Commander wasn’t stupid enough to determine his threat level based on size, not when one of his best friends was Levi Ackerman, one of the shortest yet deadliest men alive.

The pair tensed when the figure suddenly started towards them, his arm reaching back to procure a wickedly sharp sword from underneath his black cloak. Erwin’s mind scrambled for a plan but he came up blank, his mind ceasing all thoughts when the figure suddenly charged them, sword held aloft.

Erwin and Hanji closed their eyes, clutching each other as the killer came for them, both of them waiting for the quick sting of pain before death, waiting for their remains to be scattered around the Underground like Easter eggs for their friends to find when they came back to their empty offices and cold beds.

Erwin sucked in a breath when he felt the cold, harsh tip of the sword touch his throat but slowly opened his eyes after a moment when the feeling stayed there, the blade hovering just above his delicate wind pipe.

From this distance, Erwin could tell that the assassin was wearing a mask in the shape of a wolf over his face, his body poised to strike as he hovered over the pair of senior officers, his breathing labored.

“Are you Commander Erwin?” The man suddenly asked, the voice deep and distorted thanks to the mask.

Erwin contemplated lying for a second, but knew he didn’t really have a choice in the matter when the man pressed the tip of their blade a little bit harder against his flesh, even causing a pinprick of blood to bubble up from under the steel point.

“Yes.”

The man hesitated for a moment. It was almost as if he were remembering something, Erwin’s name bringing up memories from another time. The Commander had no fucking clue what that could mean for them, but he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out.

The assassin opened his mouth to say something when all of a sudden, several ropes were thrown from the darkness, catching the killer by surprise. He leaped out of the way, dodging the ropes at a speed that could only be rivaled by Captain Levi, almost making it out onto the street before he ran headfirst into a trap of chains, the metal clinking as it wrapped around his lithe form and tightened, forcing his arms to snap to his sides and his legs to buckle.

Erwin and Hanji scrambled into a standing position and smiled in joyful surprise as a familiar Mike, Nanaba, and Moblit rounded the corner. Erwin sighed in relief and Hanji let loose a little cheer as the three other veteran officers surrounded their quarry. The pair had no idea how their friends had found them or even why they had thought to follow them, but neither cared as relief filled their systems.

The assassin snarled at them and continued to struggle against their bounds, his mask making the words coming from his mouth sound nearly animalistic in nature.

“Fuck you!” The assassin roared, somehow finding the energy to fight harder as the veterans leaned down to detain the criminal. The soldiers ignored the assassin as he continued spewing profanities while they made their way towards the stairs, their mission complete.

___________________________

Erwin blinked in utter shock as he stared at the assassin through the bars of the cell they had shoved him in underneath the Survey Corps HQ.

Only, it wasn’t a him.

Erwin could only gawk as the reality of the situation settled in, his eyes roving over the assassin’s (h/l) (h/c) hair, feminine curves, and beautifully angled face. The strongest assassin in the Underground, the one that had been dubbed The Angelus Mortis, The Angel of Death, was a woman.

He never doubted that women were strong, he trained and fought beside a whole legion of strong, battleworn women that could take down anyone in a heartbeat any day. But this woman had come from the Underground. While not impossible to gain strength in the Underground, most women, and many men for that matter, that lived in that cesspool merely ended up rotting away, their legs destroyed by the lack of sunlight and their bodies wracked with disease. Even if a woman managed to avoid the severe malnourishment, most of them were forced into brothels to be used by the wealthy merchants and nobles who decided to flaunt their wealth in the poorest part of their cities.

But this woman had fought. She had fought like an animal, a wolf, as her mask had suggested. She had used her impressive intelligence and strategic mind to avoid getting caught, all while clawing her way to the top of the food chain, making herself such a feared symbol that nobody would touch her. She was cold and vicious but not at all feral, her mind sharp and her eyes clear as she stared right back at the giant blonde Commander, her gaze never drifting from his.

Erwin leaned back as he appraised her. He could tell that despite her strength, her body was severely malnourished and neglected, the lack of proper food and water paired with the intense physical labor she pushed herself through every day, rendered her body weak and thin. Erwin could tell right away that if she were given the proper commodities and nursed back to health, she would be stunning and very powerful.

He had to think about this carefully. He had sent in an after action report to the MP’s telling them that the Survey Corps had done their dirty work for them, and they had already responded with a message telling him to bring her to one of their prison cells the next morning to be tortured to death for her crimes. He knew she probably deserved a punishment like that, she had killed a lot of soldiers, but he felt a strange tugging on his heart, like he knew, deep down, that there was more to her story, something that would make her worth much more than a street rat to be thrown to the dogs.

He had no idea why but he wanted her in the Survey Corps. He knew that she was dangerous, knew that most people would call her insane and then call him insane if he brought this up. But he felt something, like he knew that if he didn’t get her into the military, they would be losing something priceless.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like a perverted fuck or are you going to tell me when I’m being taken away?”

Erwin’s eyes snapped to hers from where they had drifted to her ribs, which were jutting out of her chest prominently. 

“I knew you were going to be testy, sassy even, maybe downright insane, but I didn’t expect someone so close to death to be so confident,” Erwin said, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips.

The assassin rolled her eyes.

“I’m from the Underground, idiot, death is always a constant companion on your shoulder. I’m not scared of death, scared of the torture before death, maybe, if I decide I care enough, but not of death.”

“Is that why you killed all of those people? Because death is your friend?” Erwin asked.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“That is what you said.”

“I only said it is something I am used to, the constant threat of death and suffering, not that I enjoy it. Death is not my friend,” She growled with a sharp glare in his direction.

“So why did you kill all of those soldiers? Besides being hired to, I mean. I’d understand your motivations a little more if you had started killing other people who lived in the Underground, to give yourself an advantage, but you chose soldiers.”

The assassin was silent for a minute, breaking his gaze for the first time since he had come down to see her. He could’ve sworn her gaze clouded over slightly, as if she were remembering painful memories, but the fog in her gaze was gone as quickly as it appeared, making Erwin question whether it was even there to begin with.

“That’s personal,” she said after a heavy pause.

“They didn’t compliment your outfit?” Erwin teased, flashing a smile in her direction when she snarled at him.

“Fuck you.”

“Alright fine,” Erwin said. “Why did you ask about me? About my name?”

“That’s personal too.”

“Well you’ve got to answer at least some of my questions.”

“Why should I care about you and your inquiries?” She asked, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms in a way that reminded Erwin so much of Levi he almost smiled.

“Because it might guarantee you your life,” Erwin said.

“Who says I care about living?”

Erwin was silent for a moment this time as he scanned her with his bright blue eyes again, really taking her in. She was something, he could say that. She was unlike anyone he had ever met before. Even Levi, with his similar distrusting nature and sharp, piercing gaze was never this witty, never this sassy.

“I say you do,” Erwin said.

“Oh really? And what makes you the authority on that?”

“Nothing. You are the authority on yourself, on your emotions and instincts. I am merely an observer in this matter. I can see it in your eyes, I can read it in your posture and spot it even in the methods of your actions. In why you became an assassin, and the best one at that.”

She stayed quiet, watching him.

“I know you want to live. I don’t know anything about the personal shit that went down between you and the Military Police but I’m assuming that whatever it was was crippling, which was why you went to such drastic measures to make it to the top, to do whatever it took to make them hurt and scream. Why you never even attempted to hide the bodies. I know some people claim it was because you are cocky or egotistical, but I know better.”

Erwin leaned forward, his eyes glinting in the dull golden light of the lantern hanging on the wall. The assassin again said nothing but she never stopped watching him, playing into this game they had started, dancing on hot coals.

“Just from the fact that you did all of that. That you chose to fight back against your grief rather than succumb to it, rotting away in a forgettable corner of the Underground, shows me that you want to live. That you want to give yourself a purpose to cover up whatever loss you have felt in the past, and use it to fuel your own future.”

The assassin’s eyes narrowed on him as she pushed away from the stone wall of the cell. “I’m impressed.”

“Not quite so much of an idiot anymore, right?”

She glared at him and the smirk that spread across his face.

“(Y/N).”

“What?”

“My name is (Y/N).”

[joneswuzhere]

hello join me in thinking about some books and authors that are, or might be, part of s5′s intertextuality

5.10 in particular offered specific shout outs, and also u know i’m always wondering what might be ahead so i have some ideas on that:

- first, as mentioned in a previous ask post, i know i wasn’t alone in keeping an eye out for 5.10 parallels to the lost weekend (1945) the film that gave episode 1.10 its name and several themes - or to the 1944 book by charles r jackson which the film is based on

- s5 has not been shy about revisiting earlier seasons, especially s1. altho i feel that 1.10′s parallels to the lost weekend centered characters other than jughead (mostly betty), a 1.10-5.10 connection involving jughead and themes from jackson’s story (addiction, writers block, self reflection) seemed v possible if not inevitable

- but like,, , for a hot minute after the ep, i was really stumped on understanding how anything from the book or film could apply, even tho the pieces were almost all there

- jackson’s protagonist don birnam goes thru and comes out the other side of a harrowing days-long drinking binge that could be compared to jughead’s one-night hallucinogenic writing retreat

- but jughead is struggling primarily with traumatic memories, not addiction and self control like birnam. and tho drinking activates birnam’s creativity, it paralyzes his writing as he gets lost in fantasies; he’s never published anything. jughead’s drug trip recreates circumstances that already helped him write one successful book. even the rat that startles him mid-high doesn’t line up with birnam’s withdrawal vision of a dying mouse, symbolic of his horror at his own self-destruction thru alcohol

- and maybe the most visible discordance: in the film there’s a romantic motif around a typewriter. first it’s an object of shame; birnam’s failure to write, tied up with his drinking, makes him flee his relationship. he tries to pawn the typewriter for booze money and finally a gun when shooting himself feels easier than getting sober. but with the help of relentless encouragement from girlfriend helen, he quits drinking, commits to her, and focuses on typing out the story he’s dreamt of writing. rd goes so far to avoid setting any comparable scenario that jughead has brought a wholeass printer into the bunker so there can still be a physical manuscript to cover in blood by the end, even without his own typewriter. the subtle detail of his laptop bg image is a little less noticeable than his avoidance of betty’s gift

- tabitha might be closer to a parallel than jughead is, but she’s still no helen. both refuse to take advantage of the inebriated men in their care, but birnam takes advantage of helen, financially and emotionally. jughead refused a loan from the tate family and now has resolved to deal with his shit before he considers a relationship with tabitha. instead of helen’s relentless and unwelcomed attempts to get birnam sober, tabitha reluctantly agrees to help jughead trip safely bondage escape notwithstanding. she even helps him get the drugs.

- whatever potentials exist for parallels to jackson’s story, they were not explored for this episode. ok so why tf am i even talking about this? what was there instead?

-  i have arrived at the point

- s5 has been revisiting s1, not directly but with a twist. and jughead’s agent samm pansky is back. u may recall, pansky is named for sam lansky

- jughead’s trip-thru-trauma is a story device tapped straight from lansky’s book ‘broken people’

- lansky is like if a millenial john rechy wrote extremely LA-flavored meta but just about himself no jk very like a modern successor to charles r jackson. both play with the boundary between memoir and fiction. lansky is gay; jackson wrote his lost weekend counterpart as closeted and remained closeted himself until only a few years before his death. both write with emotional clarity and self-scrutiny on the experiences of addiction, sobriety, and the surrounding issues of shame and self worth

- i feel like a fool bc after this ep i had been thinking about de quincey and his early writings on addiction (c.1800s), but i failed to carry the thought in the other direction, to contemporary writers in the genre, to make this connection sooner

- lansky’s second book, broken people, follows narrator ‘sam’, mid-20s, super depressed, hastled by his agent to write a decent follow-up to his first book, but too busy struggling with his self-worth and baggage from several past relationships. desperate, he takes up an offer to visit a new age shaman who promises to fix everything wrong with him in a matter of days. not to over simplify it but he literally spends a weekend doing psychedelics and hallucinating about his exes. jughead took note

- unless u want me to hurl myself into yet another dissertation about queer jughead, i think his parallel to sam - who, unlike jughead, has considerable financial privilege and whose anxieties center on body dysmorphia, hiv scares, and his own self-centeredness - pretty much ends there

- But,, the gist of the book could not be more harmonius with a major theme shared by the 2 films that inform the actual hallucination part of jughead’s bunker scene: mentally reframing past relationships to get closure + confronting trauma head-on in order to move forward

- so that’s neat. what other book and author stuff was in 5.10?

- stephen king and raymond carver get name dropped. i’m passingly familiar with them both but u bet i just skimmed their wiki bios in case anything relevant jumped out

- like jughead, carver was a student (later a lecturer) at the iowa writers workshop. also the son of an alcoholic and one himself

- i recall carver’s ‘what we talk about when we talk about love’ is what jughead was reading in 2.14 ‘the hills have eyes’ after he finds out about the first time betty kissed archie (at that time he does not respond as would any of carver’s characters)

- this collection of carver stories deals especially with infidelity, failings of communication, and the complexities and destructiveness of love. to unashamedly quote the resource that is course hero, ‘carver renders love as an experience that is inherently violent bc it produces psychic and emotional wounds.’ very fun to wonder about the significance of this collection within the s2 episode and in jughead’s thoughts. and maybe now in the context of the s5 state of relationships. or, at least, the state of jughead’s writing as seen by his agent

- anyway pansky doesn’t want carver, he wants stephen king

- i have too much to say about gerald’s game in 5.10, that’s getting its own post someday soon

- lol wait king’s wife is named tabitha uhhh king’s wiki reminded me of his childhood experience that possibly inspired his short story ‘the body’ (+1986 movie ‘stand by me’) when he ‘apparently witnessed one of his friends being struck and killed by a train tho he has no memory of the event’

- no mention of that in this rd episode but memories of a train could be interesting to consider with the imagery that intrudes on jughead’s hallucination. i still feel like it was a truck but the lights and sounds he experiences may be a train

- ok now we’re in the speculation part of today’s segment

- if jughead’s traumatic memory involves trains, then it’s possible this plot will take influence from la bête humaine <- this 1938 movie is based on the 1890 novel by french writer émile zola. this story deals with alcoholism and possessive jealousy in relationships, sometimes leading to murder. huh, kind of like carver. zola def comes down on the nature side of the nature-vs-nuture bad seed question (tho i should say he approaches this with great or maybe just v french compassion). also i can’t tell if this is me reaching but, something about la bête humaine reminds me of king’s ‘secret window’ which we’ve observed to be at least a style influence on jughead post time jump

- but wow a late-19th century french writer would be a random thing to drop into this season, right? then again zola also wrote about miners, which we’ve learned are an important part of this town’s history + whatever hiram is up to this time.  and most notably, zola wrote ‘j’accuse...!’ an open letter in defense of a soldier falsely accused and unlawfully jailed for treason: alfred dreyfus. archie’s recent army trouble comes to mind.

- since the introduction of old man dreyfuss (plausibly Just a nod to close encounters actor richard dreyfuss, but also when is anything in this show Just one thing) i’ve been wondering if these little things could add up to a season-long reference to zola’s writings. but i had doubts and didn’t want to speak on it too soon bc, u know, it’s weird but is it weird enough for riverdale??

- however,,,

- (come on, u knew where i was going with this)

- a24′s film zola just came out. absolutely no relation to the french writer, it’s not based on a book but an insane and explicit twitter thread by aziah ‘zola’ wells about stripping and? human trafficking?? this feels ripe for rd even outside the potentials here for the lonely highway/missing girls plot.

- that would add up to a combination of homage that feels natural to this show

- anyway pls understand i’m just having fun speculating, most of this is based on nothing more concrete than the torturous mental tendril ras has hooked into my skull pls let go ras pls let go