#However I do think this will end or at least slow down the very toxic parasocial grip the dre.am follow has sometimes

[awesamforehead]

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: I'm an ENFP, I'm 30 years old and I’m really needing to work on my self-confidence for me and for dealing with people. I’ve read in our blogs some posts that reinforce the importance of developing skills to have confidence. I think it's very legitimate.

In this process of learning new things, I often find myself in great difficulty and my inner child agonizes with insecurity. I look at friends who have confidence in themselves as something natural: confidence that they will learn, confidence in themselves, but unfortunately I am very unstructured (poor growth environment, without incentives), so I have a lot of difficulty trusting myself: especially being so inexperienced, clumsy and slow to learn everything.

What gets worse is being in environments where people don't have patience with beginners. Like now I'm living in a foreign country where people are very rude in the workplace. This hurts me a lot, because I have problems asserting myself and being respected. I discovered that they need rudeness to respect others. How to deal with this? Would I be able to impose myself without getting nervous and acting rude (as they usually have to do)?

And more, how can we learn from this situation? How can I be truly confident and also how can I simply demonstrate more confidence to make myself respected? I'm tired of conveying weakness. People don't value my sweetness it's not a good tool for me right now. How to develop self-confidence, at least start to demonstrate a little confidence and boundaries! And in the midst of this, the most important thing: how do you deal with such unpleasant people? Especially me being used to being such a sweet, "silly" person, always with my guard down, calm and considered weak by others.

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You seem to be talking about two issues that need unpacking separately: 1) personality, and 2) confidence.

You're having a personality clash with the people at work. Analytical psychology posits that personality clashes are disturbing because they remind you of negative things in yourself you dislike, so there is a need to go within to see what's really happening.

To be clear, I'm not denying that toxic people/environments exist. I believe your description and I would certainly dislike the workplace myself. The point I'm making is, when you have no choice but to be in that sort of environment, there are healthier ways to navigate it, but being judgmental about people is not a healthy way. Judgmentalness is a sign of projection, which is an unhealthy defense mechanism, see previous posts on the topic.

One basic thing type theory teaches us is there are different people in this world. Therefore, one must always begin with acceptance of differences, if one hopes to have healthy relationships in every realm of life. You've come to identify with the so-called "sweet" aspects of your personality. When you identify with one side of yourself, you tend to unconsciously valorize that side, otherwise, you might end up hating yourself. However, in the process of valorizing that side, you inadvertently end up denying, devaluing, dismissing, or denigrating its opposite. It's no accident that these "rude" people trigger you. They bring to light your unconscious self-rejections.

Workplace = professionalism. To succeed in any workplace, it's important to set a clear boundary between private and public. It isn't appropriate to use the workplace to hash out personal issues. E.g. It's not a place to play games about who you favor or dislike. It's not a place to seek validation to soothe your insecurities. I would even argue it's not a great place to seek friendship or companionship. When you bring the personal into the professional, you are more likely to create mess, drama, discord, and conflict. Of course, there are people who live for messiness. Ask yourself exactly what role you want work to play in your life and behave in accordance with those values/principles in every workplace.

When you describe yourself in mostly positive terms ("sweet") and describe other people in very negative terms like "rude", "impatient", or "unpleasant", there is a possibility that you are biased. Typism is a bias. It means you believe some personalities/traits to be superior or inferior to others. ENFPs typically hope to get along well with all sorts of people. If you hope for that, you need to eliminate typist thinking. This requires learning to always approach people in a neutral/professional manner, even when you dislike them at first. You don't know the full story behind people. Oftentimes, the majority of people in toxic environments are just like you, i.e., struggling to survive and doing whatever it takes to keep out of trouble.

When you approach people in a neutral/professional manner, you should adopt an objective perspective about them. Yes, you see their faults, but you shouldn't lose sight of their redeeming qualities. When you're being judgmental, you're likely to dismiss people whole-hog, unable to see their redeeming qualities. Being blind to the positive means you lose opportunities for improving the situation, which means losing hope, which means losing self-confidence as you feel more and more passive and helpless.

How about, instead of using the word "rude", call them "direct" or "candid"? Instead of "impatient", how about "efficient"? When you use more neutral language to characterize people, you reinforce the idea that every personality trait has its pros and cons. When you can finally visualize the upside, you can harness it to your advantage. This allows you to let go of negative feelings and focus on the work itself. Nobody is asking you to marry these people. All you have to do is work with them long enough to get stuff done. Keep your feelings to yourself and stick only to the facts. Once work is done, go home, put it out of your mind, and get on with the rest of your life. If there are things you need to learn to improve your performance in the workplace, spend time on self-improvement outside of work in order to speed up your progress.

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With regard to confidence, when people bring up "lack of confidence", they often conflate several different concepts including: self-confidence, self-efficacy, self-esteem, and self-worth. It can be a complicated topic, so I'll elaborate on it for future reference. Some non-native English speakers have mentioned to me that their native tongue doesn't have direct translations for these four concepts, so beware that language might be a barrier for understanding them.

These four terms are relatively new in English as well; it wasn't until recently that they've started to filter down from academia into mainstream vocabulary. We know that these four concepts are distinct because, in the course of examining people who fall broadly under the category of "confidence issues", psychologists discovered that different people had somewhat different underlying processes happening, e.g., you could be good with one but struggle with the others. Of course, over time, how people use these terms in everyday language gets fuzzy, as the meaning diverges from the original academic definitions. I'll explain my understanding of them. You specifically mention learning issues, so I'll also connect to that.

I. SELF-CONFIDENCE arises from the degree to which you feel in control. If you 1) have good self-control, 2) feel as though you mostly have control over the direction of your life, and 3) feel as though you have enough control over your environment, then you're likely to feel self-confident. Thus, reflect on whether you feel some deficits in any of the above. There are things you can do to get a firmer sense of control.

Self-control is sometimes related to discipline, which means the ability to delay immediate gratification for a more important future goal. If you tend to be spontaneous, impulsive, or rebellious, then it's easy for you to lose sight of the bigger picture and it's hard for you to follow good learning procedures, which can easily derail your learning process. Some ways to improve your self-control over time:

improve your big-picture thinking so that you don't forget about your ultimate goal (through Ne)

learn the value of following good methods/procedures for achieving a goal (stop resisting Si)

structure your environment more intentionally to eliminate distractions/temptations and reward progress (tap into Te)

Having enough control over the direction of your life often relates to your ability to make good decisions. If you tend to be very emotional, indecisive, or easily overwhelmed by too much information, then it indicates you don't have a good system for processing the information required to inform your decisions. One way to improve your information processing ability is to improve your critical thinking skills. Critical thinking involves parsing information correctly, understanding its meaning, and systematizing information, in service of determining the best course of action (see past posts and recommended books). When learning, not being able to organize information and create feasible plans means slow progress.

Feeling a sense of control over the environment is often related to problem-solving skills. What happens when you meet a problem or challenge? Anxiety? Panic? Anger? Spiraling out of control? To have good problem-solving skills involves: deducing cause and effect, analyzing situations objectively, drawing valid conclusions, and generating good ideas and action-plans. Problem-solving is an important part of the critical thinking skills mentioned above. The process of learning is never completely smooth. You are bound to meet challenges and obstacles, so how do you address them? Self-confident people don't tend to focus on how they feel about problems, rather, they mostly focus on the problem itself and try to solve it as quickly as possible. When the problem is gone, the negative feelings go away.

II. SELF-EFFICACY arises from the degree to which you have faith in yourself, specifically your abilities. Efficacy means being able to bring forth an intended result (effectively) or reach an intended goal (efficiently). When you meet a problem/challenge, do you believe you have enough knowledge and skill to overcome it? If so, you have good self-efficacy. If not, do you believe, with enough dedicated learning and improvement, you can overcome it eventually? That is also good self-efficacy. In essence, it means you believe in yourself, with regard to possessing the resources or being able to obtain the resources necessary to succeed in reaching your goals.

Self-efficacy is sometimes related to competency and mastery. Being young and inexperienced, it's normal to have lower self-efficacy than someone older and wiser. In the learning process, it's important to have compassion for yourself and evaluate your progress fairly. Is the level of competency/mastery you expect from yourself proportional to the reality of your situation? If you haven't had many learning opportunities, through no fault of your own, then you shouldn't feel ashamed for being a bit "behind". This is NOT a personal flaw/failing that deserves punishment.

Note that "ahead" or "behind" are relative terms, meaning they can be understood from different perspectives, so are you using the right perspective? For example, are you evaluating yourself through your own eyes, through the eyes of your rivals, or through the eyes of an expert on the subject matter? Use fair and reasonable benchmarks/standards to measure where you are and where you should be. One reason people of any age suffer self-doubt is because they are too honest about what they don't know or can't do, to the point where they become dismissive of what they do know and can do. It's very important to be objective and balanced when assessing what you lack by also fully recognizing what you already possess or have achieved so far.

In my humble opinion, I believe people already possess everything they need to have good self-efficacy. Human beings evolved to be adaptable and that is largely how they have succeeded as a species. You have the capacity to learn and adapt to your environment. Get back in touch with it, have faith in it, and harness it as necessary. Instead of thinking there's only ONE WAY things should/must go, be more flexible and open to alternatives (use Ne).

III. SELF-ESTEEM refers to how you generally feel about yourself. This is usually related to the kinds of beliefs you have about yourself and the part they play in constructing your self-concept. The beliefs you have about yourself (e.g. about who you are and what you are capable of) are heavily influenced by your past experiences.

One of the most common signs of low self-esteem is negative self-talk. Observe the kinds of things you say to yourself in your head. Is it mostly negative, neutral, or positive? If it's mostly negative, how are you meant to feel good about yourself? People with low self-esteem say very nasty things to themselves that they would never dream of saying to others. Why the double standard? As a "sweet" person, you have empathy for others, so be sure to extend the same empathy to yourself.

An example related to learning: I've unfortunately known too many students to abandon a subject simply because one of their (jerkass) teachers told them they would never be good at it. The negative experience led them to form the belief that "they weren't meant to study it" and couldn't succeed even if they tried. Every time they encountered the subject, the belief would rise up and they'd talk themselves out of trying. Of course, watching themselves fall further and further behind through repeated failures made them feel worse and worse about themselves. Self-esteem can be damaged in a vicious cycle: By believing the worst of yourself, you aren't properly motivated to learn and improve, and then you meet failure after failure, which then confirms your negative beliefs about yourself.

One good way to tackle low self-esteem is cognitive-behavioral therapy. A cognitive-behavioral therapist is trained to bring to light your underlying beliefs (and how they interact with your feelings and behaviors). By bringing unrealistic beliefs into consciousness, you open up space to change them or adjust them to be better aligned with reality. Perhaps you need to reflect on the beliefs you have about yourself, regarding who you are/aren't, who you're supposed/not supposed to be, what you hope/don't hope to be, what you are/aren't capable of, etc. Are your beliefs attuned to your current reality? Negative past experiences don't have to dictate your future, but they will if you're unaware of how they still influence you today.

IV. SELF-WORTH refers to feeling "good enough", specifically whether you believe you are worthy of acceptance and love. When you're young, your sense of self-worth arises in large part from how you were regularly treated by the people around you. If you grew up in an environment where love was conditional, then your self-worth likely became tied to those conditions. For example, if your parents only show you love when you get As in school, it's likely that your self-worth will become tied to your academic performance and future professional success.

Self-worth can also be damaged in a vicious cycle. If you believe you aren't worthy of love, then you signal to others that it's okay to treat you poorly, which reinforces the idea that you aren't worthy. One common way people defend against low self-worth is to make themselves into something "better" or more "worthy" to their social environment, or to obtain something they can offer in exchange for social validation of their worth (e.g. wealth or status). This striving can lead to problems with overachieving, perfectionism, anxiety, depression, self-blame, or self-harm.

One common way to tell if you suffer self-worth issues is if you are often engaged in social comparison that leads you to envy people you deem somehow "superior" to you and/or feel shame about being "inferior" to them. If that's the case, it's likely that you need to correct some faulty thinking patterns:

Don't make illogical comparisons, such as comparing your first step against someone else's thousandth step. These kinds of illogical comparisons exacerbate feelings of unworthiness. You're inflicting pain upon yourself by thinking this way.

Don't be superficial and judge people only by their cover. Remember, you don't really know what someone went through to get where they are today. Perhaps if you knew the full story, their situation wouldn't seem very enviable at all. Maybe you want to play golf as well as Tiger Woods, but would you also want to give up your childhood and constantly suffer harsh treatment as he did?

Don't expect that every person should be the same, know the same things, have the same abilities, live the same life, etc. Respect individuality, which means allow for differences between yourself and others. Understand that everyone has their own path in life rather than believing everyone should conform to the same crude standard (i.e. avoid Te loop).

Do you desperately need everyone to like you or think you're great? Wanting the approval of toxic people is basically granting them power over you. Don't hurt yourself by trying to become something you're not just because someone triggered your insecurity. Insecurity is your problem, not their problem. It is the insecurity itself you need to face up to by reflecting on where it really comes from and what it says about your ability to accept and love yourself as you are (this is related to problems with Fi development in ENFPs).

What many people with low self-worth don't understand is that self-worth starts from within; it doesn't come from the people out there. When you're able to accept and love yourself and stand proud in who you are (without all those "conditions" that were imposed upon you earlier in life), you'll then be capable of teaching others to respect you. With healthy pride in yourself, it's far easier to be assertive, set boundaries, and advocate for your needs. Why? Because you firmly believe you matter, you have a right to the space you inhabit, you have a right to be yourself, and you deserve to be treated as an equal. It's also easier to ignore, dismiss, or eject toxic people when you finally realize that you don't need or want anything from them.

All four of these concepts relate to how you perceive and evaluate yourself, but from different angles. You mention feeling insecure, but which of the above gets closer to the root of the issue? It's important to be more precise about identifying the problem if you hope to come up with the right solution.

[tragedy-peanut-gallery]

How do you think myriah and daeron fell in love?

Ohhh this is a really fun question! Honestly when it comes to these two I think it was less this instant moment and more like a slow burn timeline- and because I have a lot of thoughts on them that might become a lot of incoherent rambling I’m gonna put it under the cut here for convenience lol-

So from what little info we know+ a bit of guesswork, it’s clear that Daeron and Myriah most likely weren’t in love at first sight given the general circumstances as to why they were getting married lol. In the beginning they’re respectful to one another, but distant and untrusting due to preconceived biases. They get to know each other on a surface level just so they aren’t complete strangers to one another cause Daeron definitely doesn’t know how to properly interact with any woman besides his mom, and Myriah’s more than a little suspicious that this white boy’s going to end up being a prick like his dad (and surprise! They may or may not bond over mutual hatred for Aegon)

Around the time Baelor’s born and the other Baelor kicks the bucket though, I could see some walls slowly breaking down as they learn to trust one another. After all, Daeron’s now in the direct line of succession with the expectation that he and Myriah raise a future heir to the iron throne, and you can’t exactly raise a kid together without trusting your partner who’s helping you raise them (well… technically you can- but you know what I mean). So around the reign of Viserys II, I could see them becoming at the very least co-parents for their kids with a bit of affection thought to be friendship for one another sprinkled in for flavour.

When Aegon IV takes over however, that’s when the dynamic changes a bit. Now they’re no longer just the other parent for their kids- now they have to work as a team in a court that’s mostly hostile to them both. They have to be a united front, to be the perfect successors and the better alternative to the asshole currently sitting on the throne, so they definitely got each other’s backs (which is a bit of a fact! Seeing as from what we know Daeron he was a bit of a thorn in his dad’s side when it came to Aegon’s schemes, particularly the ones concerning Dorne). But that’s just generally a given, I think what really got them to slowly fall for one another was the moments alone with one another in between, where they could just be together without every move being a deliberate political statement to a constant watching eye.

By the time Daeron himself becomes king, I think they’re still definitely a team, but more partners who genuinely care and love for each other based on their slow bond. Unfortunately they can’t really be equals, since nobles might take it less as “Oh they want to have a joint rule together, that’s nice :)” and more “!!this evil horrible snake is controlling her husband like a puppet!!1!1!1”, so while Myriah’s not going to sit on the iron throne or anything like that, I’d like to think she’s one of Daeron’s most trusted advisors and generally helped him rule the realm without putting herself too much out there. Also, I’ve seen this take get tossed around a little bit but I wanna put it here anyways- I definitely think when their kids were old enough to have their own kids, they were the sweetest grandparents imaginable, those kids could get away with just about anything when it came to them lol.

Will Grrm inevitably ruin this and make it another toxic marriage disguised as a love story come Fire and Blood Vol. 2? Probably, but I’m still going to hold onto the hope that my boy doesn’t turn out to be a dickhead and actually loved his wife through mutual love and respect, no matter how weird he might be otherwise!

(Also I have a lot of headcanons for these two but I’m a bit worried that I rambled for a bit too much lol- thank you so much for the question!)

[sleepysigh]

On a Review of Men (2022) by Youtuber Acolytes of Horror

I just watched a video regarding some of the thematic and cinematographic choices in the film Men, which you can watch here. Spoilers for Men (2022) and warnings for gore, jump scares, abuse, misogyny, etc etc it's a horror movie called Men, you get it.

I thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed the reviewer's expertise and reading of the film, especially through the lense of poetry.

However… There was a moment in the video I felt I had to respond to, regarding the string of intense and surreal images near the end of the film and the odd choices made by both the protagonist and antagonist(s). The Acolytes of Horror didn't understand why she seemed numb, slow, strangely compliant, strangely chill with all of it.

He didn't understand why we see a decaying deer, either. Some other things were thought provoking as well. So, I wrote mine down because I do my best thinking by writing, and I might as well share them.

The answer to your huge, central "why" is hiding on the tongue of every woman who has ever been in an abusive relationship. These feelings, especially in the cycle they're shown, are what women genuinely feel through their lives from men. It's very straightforward.

The weaponization of love by a man who cannot solve his own emotional problems without the service of an unwilling woman who once (and maybe still) loved/loves him is the first formative experience many women have with a romantic partner. The residual trauma and fear after he victimizes her in one of the worst ways a person can, this is carried in many of us.

The recognition of this impulse in men all around you, this subtle exertion of control, this unspoken threat driven by entitlement you can't understand, shapes your perception. They all might as well be the same predator if, despite carrying themselves differently and wearing different clothing, they all take the same actions -- they affect you, threaten you, challenge your safety in EXACTLY the same way.You play minesweeper and flag them and leave.

And then the fear. The ones who stare at you, who chase you, who don't want to LET you leave. They are naked and in nature, from nature, because they belong there; they are animalistic. Theirs is an ancient, devolved violence, not so different from a vestigial limb. Why the deer image? If you have been near a man in this state, you know they are like a deer with wasting disease: not yet dead but certainly no longer recognizably the same living creature. They may be violent, they may spread their poison to others, they may be harmless.

Have you ever interacted with or seen such a deer? They stumble jerkily from the woods sometimes and ram themselves into cars, sometimes they do it repeatedly until they die. They are deer, but they do not behave like any deer you have ever seen. Men infected with toxic masculinity, with such powerful entitlement over women that it drives them to justify violence and physical violation, they are the same thing to us, just this time it's our own species. She might as well have been stalked in the woods by a mountain lion, and it would have been naked too because it too would have seen no need for dignity or subterfuge. That's the whole point.

The rapid images towards the end that grow more and more surreal, in which she makes strange choices and allows herself to be hurt or endangered, well… Consider how you would react if you realized your lover had rabies, wanted to destroy you, but was pretending not to. What else would you doubt about your fundamental understanding of reality? Wouldn't you disbelieve, at least for a moment, searching for some other explanation, some solution, some alternative, something?

Have you ever sat at the foot of a bed while someone a foot taller with 50lbs of muscle more than you have who once lifted you weightless in their arms and promised to love you to their last breath shouts at the top of their lungs that you are a liar, a bitch, worthless, stupid, pathetic because you interrupted their video game time? Have you had someone give you a gift and then destroy it in front of you after judging that the thanks you gave were not effusive enough, telling you this wouldn't happen if you weren't so stuck up and ungrateful? Have you ever been chased by a wild carnivorous animal that has a key to your house, access to your bank account, and has spent the last two years subtly making your friends believe you are untrustworthy?

The confusion that slowly reduces fear to disgust, disappointment, paralysis, numbness, and lack of self-preservation is precisely, EXACTLY what it feels like to be abused by a man you trust. Especially a romantic partner you have been with for a long time and admired. The mewling entitlement, as you put it, makes some men behave so ridiculously that you stop feeling plain fear and begin to feel unreal. If it's a man you love, you don't just run like you would from a stranger. Why is he doing this? Is he sick? Did something happen? Why is he accusing me of something I didn't do? He said he liked to hear my opinions, but now he's calling me a nag. Why? Why? What happened? Did I do something?

It didn't used to be this way, so it must be possible to fix it. He loves me. He gave me gifts and made me happy in the past. We have plans for the future. I owe it to him to stay. I can do things I don't like if it will really make him happy. I can forgive him if he really didn't mean it. I can help him understand. I can help him come back to himself. He didn't mean to do all this. We're going to find out why this happened together and then we'll be a team again.

I don't think it's coincidental that her moment of no-self-preservation happens after he stuns her by forcing his seed into her mouth. The theft of her voice is only the first step in the attempted theft and ultimate destruction of her will, her self. The infectious entitlement doesn't make women behave the same way, but if they believe it even a little, it makes them compliant, doesn't it? It makes them try again with men who will hurt them, doesn't it? And it takes physical violence to bring her back to self-preservation, as it so often does for us, too.

And at last when she is frozen watching him, now that he has finally stopped pursuing for a moment and has something to show her, now that he seems weak and really in need of her… With the last of the goodwill she has, that little flame that women carry so well no matter how men try to drown it, she remains watching and learning. Even to this moment, in her heart of hearts, if she knew for absolute certain it would never happen again, that he had a good reason after all, that he was sorry, that he truly loved her, even to this moment she would forgive him. (Such is the magnificence of the curse placed on women as we are today, that this extraordinary gift is ours to offer, and yet men never seem to qualify.)

Now she, and you, find out your big why. Other men. Other men hurt him. Other men insulted him. Other men neglected him. Other men infected him with their entitlement. Other men told him he needed her and how to use her. Other men told him he was nothing if he couldn't capture and keep her. Other men told him she was polite and he could use that. Other men told him she was caring and he could use that. They told him she was alone. They told him try hunting in the woods. They told him it would still be enough, still make things right, if when she denied him for the final time, he made her believe she killed him herself.

And here he is sweating and grunting with the pain of what other men have done, and the pain of doing it to them, and he looks to her. All this could be avoided if she just capitulated. All this suffering, she could stop it, if only she would love him. Does she want him to keep killing himself because of her? Can't she see it's her fault? Can't she see she's responsible for cleaning up this mess and helping him feel better? Doesn't she want to just make everything okay?

But it's reminiscent of real birth in an insulting way. It's reminiscent of men who "help" do dishes by running the washer with the cups facing up and your favorite mug chipped to pieces in the lower rack. It's a fetid, pathetic imitation of what women are able to do, and it mocks their ability by comparing itself to them. All this misery swallowed by fathers and regurgitated into the mouths of boys, and instead of innocence and new life, instead of hope and potential, instead of something from almost nothing, all you can make is a dying predator? He wants her to help him through the process as if he is giving her the gift of life, but all he can breed is fear.

So she looks down with well-earned disgust and scoffs, not just because he's wrong. Not just because he's selfish, trying to avoid fixing his own problems by pawning them on her, but because she finally knows that he is so clueless he could never understand what he is or what he's doing even if she explained it. She finally cannot love him anymore. It wasn't a misunderstanding; he is simply disgusting, after all. The image of him beginning to strangle her with he hand she mangled protecting herself from him is such a powerful metaphor for the weaponization of guilt and how disgusting it really is.

He has been nursing the infection for a long time and didn't seek professional help. (As in real life, why pay a therapist when you can force your wife to work through it all with you and bear it all alone.) Just like the deer with wasting disease, the symptoms show, it is too late. The animal is already dead. All you can do is kill it mercifully.

Of course, you have to try and avoid getting its brains on anything when it dies, or that too will become noxious with infection. As poetic images go, I am reminded of the many manifestos of such infected men, preserved and circulated as they are in putrid cultural sinkholes where men still voluntarily use such material to infect themselves and others.

In that moment she does not see a man, she sees a carcass. She sees rot wearing the face of someone she loves, mindlessly pursuing her capture and destruction without any true logic behind it. Refusing to understand that only YOU can kill yourself. Only men can protect men from this. Socially, culturally, we can find many why's. We spend a great deal of talking about what is and is not a "why". But for her, in this moment, with this man she has cared for, she discovered the truth as it pertains to her: there is no why.

There is no why that has a single thing to do with her, personally. It's not something she did. It's not something she is. It's not a habit she has. It's not because she doesn't have sex as often, she put on a little weight, she cut her hair, she gets crabby doing dishes after work. He's rotten inside from something that came long, long before she was even born. He has been gone for a long time. There was never going to be anything she could do.

The disgust for this thing in front of you, the decaying shell of something pretending to be a person you loved, which will continue to do so even after you are gone, one way or another, is indescribable. The relief, the happiness to discover that you did not do this, the soaring freedom to refuse your love, is sublime.

Words are just another vector for infection, so the disease makes its victim tell her she did not give him enough love, not what she owes him, but she has seen how he got to be this way now. She knows the why of history. She knows there isn't a why that could fit between them on this couch, and it wasn't actually her job to uncover it, and she is not losing a loved one or a teammate or a future because the person she planned her future with is already gone and may have never existed.

James's terrible wounds, even his arm, are the product of the choice and beliefs of men. Who but men would make him think he could grab her that way and escape harm? They are part of something that has absolutely no idea who she is. It was just searching for a woman in order to manifest its next stage of symptoms. It seeks a woman because without at least one son, it cannot propagate. It seeks any woman for prestige, or comfort, or self-esteem from having one.

As much as the men could have been the same man over and over, she could have been any woman at all and it wouldn't have changed a thing. James didn't look like the Man to her. He fooled her that way. She didn't know to flag him and keep sweeping, that's all.

But now she knows. Now she knows the rules of the game, and more importantly, she knows that men for the most part DON'T. They don't know why they're doing what they're doing. They don't know they've been infected and are becoming lost inside the rot of toxic entitlement that has taken hold in their minds. They don't know she doesn't have to keep playing the same game. They never thought it necessary to know her at all.

When you've taken enough abuse and finally have a moment of clarity about your situation, especially if he leaves you and expects you to take an ego blow and come crawling back, you experience this moment of freeing joy. You can just log off. It never mattered what you did, and this isn't different. Everyone's gotten a game over in minesweeper, even SO close to winning. Hell, aren't there a lot of people who never win minesweeper and just decide to stop playing anyway?

You thought he changed. You thought you had to hold on as the chaos tried to separate you. You wondered if you had changed, whether you should change, whether he had changed you. Now you see that he has not changed at all, and there is no reason to think he will. He will still be the same mountain lion, stalking you on sight, pursuing you to capture and annihilate you. But you don't have to treat him like someone you love, or respect, or owe anything.

You remember suddenly that false premise you had: if he changed, we can change him back. You could change yourself back. You could be the woman who first met him, who didn't need a thing from him, who was living and breathing and worthy of serenity all the same.

You can disappear. You can escape. You don't have to date again, if you don't want to. You don't have to get married or move in with someone. You have friends who can drive you where you need to go to start playing an entirely different game. You can make every man who pursues you keep his distance as long as you like, and you can always, always get your freedom back when you need it.

This whole deal he has going on, this scream and crying and violence and threats of suicide and GUILT GUILT GUILT thing? It has nothing to do with you! The meaningless noises of a sick animal. And now that you can look back and see the trail of burned bridges and salted earth he's left behind, you're happy to let him enmesh himself in nature. Sick things in nature get better or they die, and either way they can't hurt you anymore as long as you keep away.

Let him go to his forest and stalk in circles, drooling aimlessly with no woman to pursue. Soon enough he will come to his senses, or he will starve. He might eventually lie down for good and feed the trees whose leaves you admired so serenely in the cloudy sunshine as a balm for your grief and confusion.

He never has to matter to you again. No man does. You were good, and you deserved none of it, and now you can leave it behind you. Nothing compares to the final moment when you reach up and slip the rope from your own neck, laughing bittersweetly to know you could have done it any time.

[gurren-logout-book-reviews]

The Merry Spinster: Tales of Everyday Horror by Mallory Ortberg  

A collection of short stories with each being one chapter in length. It’s hard to review the book without treating each individual as its own entity. However, the stories tend to follow a familiar theme of abusive or toxic relationships. Each story tends to have some conflict involving someone stepping over boundaries, gaslighting, or guilt tripping in some capacity. The stories are all reimagining’s of fairy tales and folklore. Some stories involve odd gender titles which I will address per story. The relationship each story has with gender ranges from interesting to almost seeming accidental. To try and help build backgrounds for each story, I will list the author’s inspirations for each tale (pg. 189-190). Some of which I caught on and could compare, but some of these I am not familiar with and looked up for better context.

The Daughter Cells (Sources: The Little Mermaid)  

The first story is also the cover of my copy of the book. The opening starts out as a reimagined version of the little mermaid, but with a monstrous sea girl rather than a typical mermaid. All the story bits play out the same as the original tale until the end. Instead of stabbing herself and turning into foam, she stabs the prince and his new wife and baths in their blood. Stealing their souls and returning to her true form in the sea. I’m always down for monster girls, and they build up more of the sea girl’s kingdom and lore which is an interesting perspective. It relates to the theme as the girl and prince don’t seem to view each other as individuals. She lays claim to him and decides he’s hers while he knows nothing. Then when she turns human, he doesn’t try and know her as a person, just a silent trophy until he is married. All in all, a good start to the book 3.5/5.  

The Thankless Child (sources: Cinderella, King Lear, The ladder of Divine Ascent, Lorica of St. Patrick, The Divine Praises, and Psalm 139)  

                This is the first instance of the odd gender naming choices. It could be something lost in translation, and it isn’t too distracting here, and also adds to some backstory of this world the tale takes place in. The girls have masculine to gender neutral names (Paul, Robin, and Gomer) and discuss wanting to get “wives”. Which they mean men. It is implied in the story that women are expected to do hard work.  

                The God Mother acts as the main antagonist, trying to guilt Paul into obedience and love over their passed mother; withholding food and giving out extra work while complaining Paul won’t let her love them. The God Mother seems to have them worship salt as God. It’s a bit confusing, but the theme is kept that Paul is forced to drink salt water to not be punished. This story seems to abruptly end to the point I thought my ADHD brain made me miss two pages, but no. It suddenly cuts to her living with the priest’s son as his husband who is caring and keeping house. Very odd, kind of weird paced, 2/5.  

Fear Not: An Incident Log (sources: the Book of Genesis)   

                To start off I was shocked when the source ended up being the book of Genesis. I guess it does have a “fear of God” aspect and the results of following without thinking. However, I found this one to be the least interesting and had to reread the chapter a few times to even remember it. Very slow and not for me. 1/5  

The Six-Boy Coffins (Sources: The Six Swans, and The Twelve Brothers  

                I love/hate this story. It was interesting and kept my attention, but I didn’t like it for whatever reason. I get the references they are pulling from, but I just didn’t like it. That isn’t to say it isn’t well written. The mom and dad (king and queen) are absolutely in the wrong to their kids, where the king thinks the sons are too much trouble and just wants to kill the them once he has a daughter and the mom lets the daughter know at every possible moment that her being alive makes her life worse and that she should never have been born. The boys live in the woods to escape their father, learning to be self-reliant and harboring a resentment that they think is toward their sister. When they meet when she is seven (she wanted them to come home and know them, her mother told her it was her fault they left) they instead love her, and they all live in the woods together. A few years go by (why did the king not send anyone to look for his daughter he wanted so badly by the way) and she sees white lily’s growing in the yard. At no point were lilies ever mentioned up to this point, so the reader ends up just as shocked when she decided to pick them for her brothers, but then they turn into swans?  

                She has a dream about her mother telling her she is a worthless failure for picking flowers she shouldn’t have (hello? at this point she is twelve-year-old girl? And again, the flowers are NEVER MENTIONED). She says to turn her brothers back she needs to suffer more than all of them plus their mother combined. She is tasked to stay absolutely silent for 7 years while making shirts out of thistle needles for each brother, and she needs to finish them by the seven years. About halfway through the “punishment” a king from a different kingdom finds her and because she can’t speak just decides to marry her without any input from her at all. He tries to stop her from making the clothes and she forces herself to have abortions, so she doesn’t have to think of anything but her goal. At the 7 year mark the king decides she is a failure (from what he believes are miscarriages) and decides to burn her at the stake. At the last minute she flings her shirts onto her swan brothers, and they come out and burn the king for hurting their sister. Story fits the theme, kept my attention, and made me angry at everyone involved. 4/5  

The Rabbit (source: The Velveteen Rabbit)  

This one is odd, and unsettling. A toy rabbit that has been neglected wants to become real. When a boy’s nanny can’t find his usual bedtime toy, she gives him the rabbit. The rabbit is filled with so much hate. They tell this boy horrible things about how they’re their only friend and that he’s worthless. The rabbit starts saying he “loves” the boy as the boy becomes sicker and sicker. The rabbit starts becoming nicer looking and beginning to feel “real” through the boy’s suffering. The boy becomes absolutely dependent on the rabbit or freaks out if they are separated. Once the boy finally dies the parents decide to burn all his possessions and as they try to burn the rabbit it grows legs and hops away. The idea that someone who is supposed to bring you comfort and love and is using you and actively hurting you just triggers a pain in me. This rabbit is so focused on themself and enjoys the boy being hurt. Just oof. 3.5/5  

The Merry Spinster (sources: Beauty and the Beast)  

                The namesake of the book, the story follows closer to the original fairy tale than the Disney version. It’s a bit loose at first to make the connection, but then it starts making more sense. I don’t know why her family treated her so bad for *reads notes* doing all the housework and cooking, then spending her downtime reading instead of spending ridiculous amounts of money on flashy things. They even call her Beauty because she is so plain and not great looking? The book makes it a more modern retell with a mom going to get back their fortune and the kids asking for different things. The brother (Sylvia, who is the worst) wants a car, sister (Catherine) wants jewels, and beauty wants a single rose.   

                Mom stops in the middle of the night on the way back at an old mansion with food laid out that she just starts eating like that is a normal thing to do when breaking and entering. She notices a rose garden and decides to pick one, so add theft to the crime list of this lady. That is when the Beast shows themself (but is never described other than “beastly” so not sure how much of an actual “beast” he is or if he’s just a giant horrid person. Hard to tell with this book sometimes) and demands payment for the flower. Mom offers up Beauty, and the Beast accepts. Beauty happily goes, much to her family’s rejection (finally realized y’all will have to do the chores now?) and the Beast welcomes her with food and a library full of books she can’t read due to…a spell? It’s never quite stated. The Beast says she can have everything if she marries him. She declines. He continues asking becoming angrier each time and she still says no and that she doesn’t want to be married. The beast takes the mansion’s pleasures and then says if she doesn’t marry him he will die.  

Well, he does die. Then Beauty goes home.  

                What an odd retelling. It fits the theme (abusive family to abusive household) and Beauty’s wants are always told are weird, ugly, and not normal. It’s just so jarring, I guess there are people who act like that, but with the family it seemed a bit much. I could understand the Beast parts giving her a hard time as that is the more fairytale part, but man they just don’t let women live their life the way they want in this world. Dragged on a bit in the beginning and end, but overall alright. 3/5  

The Wedding Party (source: the Goose Girl, The Earl of Mar’s Daughter, and the Daemon  Lover)  

                I liked this one and the banter reminded me of how my fiancé and I talk to each other. This story closest follows the “Daemon Lover” ballad, specifically “A Warning for Married Women”, but instead of an ex-lover it’s a toxic friend. The boy and girl spend most of the chapter playfully teasing each other and talking about their wedding in two days. It is building up what is clearly a stable and happy relationship. The groom continues bringing up the bride’s friend Tess, who he dislikes. He doesn’t think that friend does enough for the wife and that she should be more giving with her wealth to her best friend. The bride plays this off as not a concern and that she loves him and nothing will change that.  

                While waiting at the rehearsal dinner location, the bride seems to be becoming more sporadic and unable to stop telling jokes and defending Tess to have a real conversation with her to be husband about his concerns. They see Tess in the window and the bride goes out to talk to her, saying that he never likes Tess and that he looks like he has been fighting about her, so she wants to calm Tess down herself. However, the bride never returns. He waits in the rehearsal hall as he hears voices get quieter.   

                I feel this is supposed to be how people who are abused tend to go back to their abuser regardless of how happy they may be in a new circumstance, it’s something you seen in DV cases and you always question “But they treat you so bad, why do you keep going back?” It’s easy, and stress can make you make bad decisions. I can understand it. Good Story, fun dialogue, downer ending. 3.5/5.  

Some of Us had Been Threatening Our Friend Mr. Toad (sources: the Wind in the Willows and Some of Us had Been Threatening our Friend Colby)  

                This one was by and far my favorite. It was so creepy and deeply hurtful and my only complaint is it ends rather abruptly. The way the animals spoke to Toad hit a little too close to home to how my parents and some family members talked to me. This story follows the basic plot points of “The Wind in the Willows” except this time the animals don’t really care about Toad’s safety. They continually gaslight him in the very next sentence, making him feel like he doesn’t matter and is a bad person. They lie to make Toad feel more dependent on them, and the beginning (which is actually the ending) feels so much worse with the context of the “Threatening Colby” story, as what was implied becomes more obvious knowing that story. They are just so cruel, and you just feel a deep pit in your stomach for poor Mr. Toad. In the original he became humbled and a better friend, in this version he is likely killed by his cult like “friends” who believe they own him as their friend. I wish it was just so slightly longer and it made me feel like garbage. 4.5/5  

Cast Your Bread Upon the Waters (source: Johnny Croy and his Mermaid Bride)  

This story was so interesting, it is told from the perspective of a deeply religious mother who continually says her son is beautiful, but dumb. He does do dumb things to win his “dream” girl, a woman the mom describes as evil and a monster. It’s hard to tell if the girl is a sea monster or the mother is just ridiculous about who her son is with. She never grows to care for her daughter in law, and when she wants to take her family back to her home (the sea) this crazy ass lady drugs her grandkids, brands them with a cross, cuts her son’s hand off and takes out his eye, stabs the girl multiple times and sends her and her son out to see on an old boat. She keeps the grandkids even as the girl begs for her kids. 

This woman would be a top post on r/JUSTNOMIL. The story is an allegory towards indoctrinating family into a person’s own religious ideals and rejecting anything else as sinful, leading them to do horrible things in the name of “saving” people. I could easily see this being a fundamentalist mother not approving of her son marrying someone of a different religion, the way it’s told you just wonder what the hell is wrong with this lady? Stayed focus, very clear, and interesting. Makes me love my MIL more. 4/5. 

The Frog’s Princess (source: The Princess and the Frog/Frog Prince) 

This story has the most confusing language when it comes to gendered speak it is distracting from the story itself. The youngest daughter and her siblings are referred to as “he/him” throughout the story with no real explanation why. The only she pronoun used is for the sun. While I’m all for challenging gender norms this just comes off as an accident or just distracting. My only theory it’s supposed to be that the daughter belongs only to men (which is stated a few times that being beautiful means other people get to own you and it is your own fault if you don’t like it) so they don’t get their own identity outside of their father? The story is exactly the princess and the frog but the frog never turns human they just stay a frog. Still throws the nasty thing. Frog comes off gross in this and not sympathetic, which could be relating to someone being assaulted and being forced to be with that person by family no matter how bad they are. Overall, I found this story confusing and just not transformed as much as the other stories. I can kind of see what they’re trying to do, but I don’t feel it was executed well. 2/5. 

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors (source: The Fisherman and his Wife, and Frog and Toad are Friends) 

The final story really hammers home that theme of abusive relationships. A retelling of a “fisherman and his wife” but the fisherman’s partner is just referred to as a friend with gender neutral pronouns. Like in the story they want more and more, but in this they are constantly guilt tripping the fisherman. Making them feel like their partner is the only one contributing to the relationship when really all they have done is make demands and complaints. I mean, they can’t even give their sick partner some tea without making a huge deal out of sacrificing and being selfless to the “selfish” fisherman. The fish at the end rightfully calls this out, but in response the fisherman fucking fillets this magic fish and absolutely murders the shit out of the thing that has done nothing but give. The ending was a surprise for me. I know the book seemed to center themes around abusive people in our lives, but to end it with such a rejection of help and continued hurting because your feel worthless without the person who made you feel that way...ouch. I hated the partner 4/5. 

Final Thoughts Overall 

This book was such a mixed bag for me, which is the nature of anthology books. Sometimes you get absolute gems, but then the next chapter will be a slog to get through. While overall the book is an interesting look at the damage generational trauma, verbal and emotional abuse inflict seemingly long term, some writing choices just made the point distracting. I feel like writing about each individual story and looking back made me take in smaller details I didn’t think about before, going back knowing the theme makes the stories seem like more than what they are on the surface. It’s short and can be read in about 1-2 days. Overall rating 3/5. 

[aquagustd]

está dañada - JJK

↣ life through the eyes of someone who watches you fall apart and helps gather the shards of your heart, only for you to make the same mistake time and time again, but he refuses to accept the truth because to him, you’re infallible.

pairing — jungkook x reader

genre/rating — R | angst, fluff, smut

word count — 20K

play — está dañada by ivan cornejo

warnings/tags — neighbor au, slow burn, singer!JK, strong language, pining, dog dad JK, really soft JK, toxic relationship + mentions of infidelity (not between Y/N & JK), explicit smut- dirty talk, biting + scratching, fingering, spit kink, brief handjob, oral (f & m), cum swallowing, grinding, clit pinching + biting, spanking, pussy slapping, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, throat fucking, protected sex, reverse cowgirl, doggy, overstimulation

a/n — this…was supposed to be 5K but I love that song. also the song he sings in the bar is Your Eyes Tell by BTS (my favorite Japanese song of theirs)

∞

Jungkook remembers the first time he had seen you. It was a chilly evening, slight breeze with a few stars dotting the inky sky, you were standing outside the café opposite Seokjin’s bar. Even from afar, he could tell that you were annoyed, by the dip between your brows and the way you kept tugging your hoodie sleeves over your hands. He couldn’t wait long enough until your ride arrived, duty called, but when he checked not even ten minutes later, you were gone.

The second time he saw you, similar to the first, you were tugging the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands, lips in a slight frown until a black Hyundai rolled down the street and came to a stop just outside the entrance, a smile cracking onto your face. He didn’t see why he should waste his hard-earned money on over-priced coffee when he could buy and grind his own, good quality if not better. But he did visit the café for the first time after he found himself leaning toward the routine of looking for you each night just as his shift at the bar begun, and yours at the café apparently ended.

A boy, probably a few years younger than him, stood behind the counter wearing a perfunctory smile, spewing out the names of different desserts and pastries to entice customers. But he didn’t want to see the boy, nor did he care about tres leches, all he wanted was your name, a peek at your nametag. But you were nowhere to be seen. Assuming that you took the day off, he settled for a mocha latte and steamed dumplings, which had his tummy crying for more, to shake things up a bit, and went on with his day. However, you were standing across the bar the same day at the beginning of his shift. Baffled. He surmised that you probably popped in later that day, after he visited the café.

So, he went in earlier, only to be greeted by the same boy with more desserts to gush about and no you.

He tried later, cutting some time off his daily walk with Bam, just for your name, but it was just like the day before. It didn’t help that your brief appearances during the evenings intrigued him even more. And he had no idea why, but he would follow his instincts and do the most to at least find out your name and maybe introduce himself.

Doing the most meant catching Seokjin’s attention.

“Why do you rush to just stand out there at 9 everyday?”

“I…uh…like to warm up my voice outside.”

“You know you can’t lie to me.”

“Fine. There’s this girl that I see every night and…she…seems…”

“Let me guess, you think she’s pretty and choose to stare at her like a creepy paedophile.”

“No!”

That night, Jungkook had discovered how heedless he can be when Seokjin told him that you live in his building, the building housing the very bar he works at and over twenty-five apartments from the third floor. And then he was curious as to how lenient of a landlord Seokjin can be…It was purely coincidental that he’s been actively searching for a new place. For the next few days, Jungkook had spent majority of his shift at the bar trying to cajole Seokjin into letting him move in. Higher monthly payments, longer shifts and even offering to scrub the grimy bar floors that haven’t been properly cleaned since its opening. Seokjin had given in.

Like he expected.

Even after repeating his strict rule of no pets.

He’d just have to keep Bam out of the other tenants’ sight.

That’s how he finds himself carting four boxes up the stairs, lip tucked between his teeth, shirt clinging to his back from exertion.

“Bam! Wait for me there, go on.”

Craning his head around the boxes meant temporarily losing sight of what was in front of him. Or who, rather.

“Woah!”

“Fuck!”

Luckily, the boxes contained some beddings and not his expensive, and treasured, monitors.

“I am so sorry.”

Too busy cursing himself, Jungkook had missed the important detail that the pile of boxes toppling over was a result of bumping into someone and not his own bumbling.

His head snaps up, eyes going wide upon realizing that it’s you…his new neighbor.

“It’s fine,” he smiles, bending over to stuff the sheets back inside, just as you’re doing.

Hair up in a ponytail, leggings and a brown hoodie. He takes the time to admire your features, hoping to etch them into his memory, you look even prettier up close.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says after a beat, noticing that you’re now stacking the box onto the other that landed upright, “I just moved in today.”

You rise to your full height, adjusting your hoodie while keeping a tight-lipped smile, not the one he’s used to seeing every other evening.

“Hey, so you’re my new neighbor,” you chuckle airily before giving him your name and stuffing your hands in your hoodie pockets.

Jungkook realizes that he’s in his work clothes…aka pajamas, but before he can take in his embarrassment, Bam is poking out from the doorway.

“Is he your dog? He’s so cute!”

Jungkook watches you scratch behind his Dobermann’s ear, a hint of warmth filling his heart before mumbling out a yes then blurting no.

You shoot him a quizzical look, and it’s from this angle that Jungkook notices the slight darkness under your eyes. It reminds him of his own.

“I mean…he’s my friend’s dog…I’m just…keeping him,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“Cute,” you say as you’re turning the tag around Bam’s collar, an eyebrow raised. Jungkook should be incredibly nervous that someone as beautiful as you, someone he’s been dying to talk to for months now, is standing a few feet away, all your attention on him only. There’s an amicable tilt to your smile that has his heart stuttering in his chest.

Jungkook sighs, “he is…my pet.”

“Oh,” you’re standing in front of him now, glancing between him and his dog who returns to Jungkook’s side, “I thought that pets aren’t allowed in the building.”

Something in your eyes has Jungkook spilling the truth, and it would be silly to lie to you since you’re his closest neighbor. You deserve to know the truth.

“Yeah…I’m friends with the landlord and Bam isn’t much trouble. He’s a good boy,” Jungkook grins, hand sliding down Bam’s back like second nature.

“Ah,” you nod, shuffling from foot to foot while silence falls over you.

“I actually…work at the bar,” Jungkook finds himself saying to fill the air, hoping you’d be just as generous with information.

“Oh, that’s cool. I work at Xpress during the early part of the evenings.”

As if he doesn’t already know.

“It’s funny how you live in this building but I haven’t seen you at the bar. You should come,” he winks. You should come hear me sing, he wants to say. Brag.

He puts on the most charming smile he can manage, folding his arms with his shoulder pressing into the wall.

You shove your hands in your pockets again, gaze flickering to the window behind him.

“I did once, but just for a little while. It’s not really my boyfriend’s scene,” you reply, wearing the same tight-lipped smile.

Jungkook stiffens at the word boyfriend. He hopes you don’t think he was hitting on you, because he was totally hitting on you. Or trying to.

“Oh…I see,” his gaze darts to Bam, heat rising to his cheeks.

“Well,” you side-step around him, “it was nice meeting you Jungkook.”

He watches you disappear down the stairwell, a dejected slump to his shoulders, “you too.”

Jungkook has enough time around his job for things like meeting up with friends, partying perhaps, visiting his parents as often as he’d like, or even finding new people and going on dates, wine tasting maybe. Basically, he can do whatever his heart desires. However, he does none of those things. He wakes up every morning with work on his mind and spends his free time with Bam. Where he could spend a huge chunk of the evening sleeping, recharging for the next day, he chooses to fulfil his hobby that is singing. Singing at Seokjin’s bar to keep his sanity. Otherwise, his life would be work, eat, gym, dog. Life has become even more convenient after he moved. In under five minutes, he’s at Seokjin’s bar with enough time to spare.

Working from home, both ways now, makes him pause to think that perhaps he does lead an indolent life, but he’s content and that’s all that matters. Right?

But with your oblivious arrival into his life, his heart has been a little uneasy as of late. He doesn’t see you until the evenings when you’re waiting outside the café for your boyfriend, and even then, he can’t watch from afar like he used to because you recognize him. A slight wave with a tiny smile. Envy surfaces when he observes the smile reserved for your boyfriend, reaching your eyes, cheeks puffing up with fondness.

That’s where it stops for Jungkook, where it should stop. But with his mind being plagued by the thought of you, the short exchange between you replaying like a broken record, dreaming wide awake, fast asleep, it proves to be difficult.

Despite knowing that no matter what time he goes to Xpress, he won’t see you there, but he has taken a liking to the savories and visits frequently for his daily dose of spice. On one occasion, he had complimented the meat cutlets and the boy, whose nametag reads ‘Soobin,’ mentioned your name, saying that you’re the cook behind the jowl jittering food. Jungkook buys extra since then, heart and stomach topped with an unnamed feeling.

It’s been over a year since Jungkook shared some form of intimacy, heavily touch starved. It appears that the cobwebs in his heart have been thoroughly cleared out.

How do neighbors interact with each other? At his previous apartment, his floor was dead silent. Mr. Ahn, the curmudgeon, lead a solitary life, although his children visited him during the holidays. Basically, he didn’t have a neighbor before, and especially one who had kicked her way into his heart for whatever reason. He is yet to find out.

Each day, he’s constantly thinking of ways to chat to you, to become friends with you, but they’re all dubious and would definitely sell him out.

Until today, after his Zoom call with a client, he hears a knock on his front door.

Throwing his head back to empty his glass of water, he squints one eye to look through the peephole and jumps back when he sees you.

Jitters rise up the length of his body as he surveys his appearance, before padding across the carpeted floor, fist clicking down the handle.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” you wave, hair obscuring his view of your cheeks when you draw his attention to the jar in your hands, “sorry to bother you but…I was wondering if you could open this for me.”

Jungkook blinks at the jar of peanut butter, a soft smile stretching his face when you thrust it in his direction.

“Sure,” he responds with a nod, fingers brushing his lightly as he takes it from you.

You’re watching attentively as he twists, and Jungkook could’ve taken this opportunity to flex his muscles and put on a show for you, but the jar is stubborn.

Hovering about the door, your fingers disappear under your hoodie sleeves while he grunts and grits his teeth as he tucks the jar under his arm, fighting with the lid.

“You know what,” you mumble after a few more minutes of him suffering, taking a step forward, “it’s fine. I’ll just wait for—”

“No,” Jungkook shouts, backing further into his apartment and making his way to the kitchen to grab a cloth, “I can do it.”

Jungkook is so hellbent on proving that he can get the jar open that he doesn’t notice you’re still standing in the hallway until you call from the other side.

“Is it open yet?”

He shakes his head, tongue curled over his top lip, “not yet! You can come in!”

Leaving your shoes at the doorway, he sees your head swivel this way and that as you enter his apartment, whispering a soft greeting to Bam, who springs up from the couch.

After admonishing himself for letting his gaze wander down your legs, he goes back to the task at hand as you’re making your way to the kitchen.

“Shit,” he breathes, spinning around to grab a knife from the drawer and poking through the slit in the jar, levering into it, hoping it’ll give.

“Damn, that’s a lot of kombucha,” you snort, hip pressed into the counter.

He follows your gaze behind him, chuckling softly when he spots the boxes of kombucha lined up on the floor.

“Yeah, I like it,” he blushes, noticing the way you lean down on the counter, glad that you feel comfortable in his home.

“I can tell. The expensive brand too.”

He shrugs.

“Are you a pro gamer or something like that?”

He shakes his head, knowing that you’re referring to his colossal work station.

“I’m a software engineer,” he answers, feeling like a twelve year old when he sees your eyes light up in awe, pride puffing out his chest.

Your hair slides over your shoulder when you face the lounge again, eyes tracing the monitors sitting on his desk.

“That’s so cool.”

“And what about you?”

Jungkook feels the jar loosen when he twists the lid again…to his dismay and maybe…if he sacrifices his dignity and pretends to struggle a little longer, he can indulge in your presence.

“Well…I’m currently studying nursing. I’m a bit—” you tug on your sleeve, eyes not meeting his “—indecisive. Initially, I was interest in business. HR. Then I switched to Management, basically wasted a lot of good years.”

Jungkook doesn’t miss the distant look in your eyes, an empty chuckle leaving your lips before your gazes meet again, air around you growing dismal.

“It’s okay to try out different things before you find your true passion,” he affirms, offering a smile.

“Yeah,” you point at the jar with your eyes, “got it?”

He fumbles, palms twisting the jar in one direction and the lid in the other before pulling it off, “got it.”

You bring it up to your chest when he slides it across the counter, bitter after he notices that you’re already making your way back to the door.

“Thank you,” you nod, shuffling into your sandals.

Your lips lift in a smile, not the one that he saw the last time, but slightly bigger, corners of your eyes crinkling ever so slightly.

“Anytime.”

And Jungkook meant it, anytime you needed anything, anything at all, he would be there to help.

“Wanna go for a walk? Hmm?”

Jungkook groans, arms held high above his head before twisting his muscles. He loves his job but soon his ass will form the shape of his chair.

“C’mon,” Jungkook grabs Bam’s leash and a bottle of water before tying up the laces on his running shoes.

“We spent too much time locked up in there, right Bam?”

His loyal pet loiters around the entrance, prancing around Jungkook as he zips up his jacket and pulls the hood over his head.

“Hey.”

Jungkook almost spits out the huge gulp of water he just chugged. Almost.

“Oh hey,” he replies, wiping the side of his mouth with his sleeve, “how are you?”

You’re clutching a stack of books close to your chest, heavy bag slung over your shoulder.

“I’m good…Hi!”

Jungkook watches with a stagnant heartbeat as you play with Bam’s alert ears, a silver pendant sitting between your collarbones.

“Where are you off to?”

“Library, you?”

Jungkook holds up Bam’s leash, “taking this guy for a walk. And I could use some fresh air myself.”

You laugh, pretty row of teeth exposed, “how do you manage spending…how many hours?”

Jungkook pretends to think, as if he doesn’t keep track of how much time he spends sitting at his desk, brain abused.

“Twelve…Sometimes eighteen hours, if I’m up early enough.”

Your eyes widen, “wow, I could never. I struggle to keep my eyes open even if it’s been an hour.”

Jungkook shrugs, “time flies when you’re having fun.”

A softer giggle reaches his ears, one that has his confidence spiking.

“Do you want to walk with us? The library is on the way to the park.”

“Erm,” you pull out your phone from your jeans pocket, glancing at the screen for a second then nodding, “sure.”

He tries his best to mask his excitement, “great. Let’s go, Bam. We have a new friend with us today.”

Jungkook waits for your objection, but it doesn’t come, instead you’re walking in stride with him down the stairs, the floral scent of your shampoo surrounding him.

He underestimated the weather. The sun is blazing down on the earth, and he chose to wear a thick jacket. Not even five minutes into the walk and he’s sweating bullets. But the slight zephyr wisping your hair around, more of your scent clouding his senses, provides some relief.

“So…what made you choose nursing?”

You tuck your hair behind your ear, boots pressing into the grass, “I found it interesting, and I think providing care for people daily is rewarding. I just want to make a difference in someone’s life, even if it’s just a small difference.”

Jungkook wants to yell. If only you knew what a difference you’re making in his life.

He sees a strand of hair catch on your lip balm with a gust of wind, fingers twitching at his sides to pull it away.

“That’s sweet,” he smiles, choosing to keep his eyes on Bam who struts a few steps ahead of him.

When he turns to look at you again, another question ready on his tongue, his gaze drifts to the pendant around your neck. A locket. Now he’s curious. Maybe it’s a gift from your boyfriend? What’s in the locket?

“Bam and I go out for a walk at the same time every day.”

“I actually go to the library around this time everyday Tuesdays and Thursdays and on weekends.”

“Maybe we could walk together,” Jungkook braves, seeing you nod from the corner of his eye which has him looking forward to the next time.

“Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s eyes snap up to yours, “hmm? Yeah, sure.”

“You seem…good at your job. Successful. Why do you still work at the bar? I’m guessing you’re doing Seokjin a favor.”

Jungkook smiles, tucking his bottom lip into his mouth.

“Not a favor,” he replies, kicking a pebble, suddenly shy under your attentive gaze, “I don’t get paid or anything. I just…sing.”

“You sing?”

He rubs the back of his head, “yeah, it’s kind of my hobby. Talent. I don’t know. I just like to entertain the crowd.”

“Mostly…old people go to that bar.”

Jungkook gasps, “no! We do get some youngsters coming in.”

You chuckle, covering your mouth with your hand, “youngsters?”

A fierce blush creeps onto Jungkook’s cheeks, slightly offended but even more wonderstruck by you. He’s more than happy to be the reason behind your laughter.

“Yeah…But the oldies are a better audience anyway,” he defends, pausing across the ice-cream parlor after an idea pops into his head.

“I believe you, don’t be fooled by their age. Old people know how to party.”

He’s about to ask if you wanted to get some sorbet before you’re speaking again, eyes on the ground.

“You’re good at singing…That’s so cool. Wish I had an awesome talent like that.”

Jungkook bites his lip, he’s about to blurt out that you’re good at cooking.

“Do you wanna get some sorbet? It’s so fucking hot,” he pants, pointing across the street.

You follow his finger, “okay.”

Jungkook beams, “let’s go.”

“Bam, we’ll ask them for some plain ice, okay?”

Jungkook pushes the door open then stops in his tracks when he notices that you’re still across the street.

“I’m fine! I’ll just head to the library!”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, then he crosses the street once again, dragging Bam with him.

“C’mon, I can tell you’re feeling hot too. Cool off before you go.”

Your eyes skate behind him, contemplation written across your face, “okay.”

He smiles, jerking his head in the direction of the parlor.

“I have a meeting at 2PM. Been a while since I met the rest of my team,” he chuckles, shoving the door open for the second time, thankful for the air-conditioning that immediately calms the heat.

You’re staring straight ahead at the man behind the counter, eyes void of emotion.

“Hi!”

Jungkook nods, “hey. Can I have one rainbow swirl and one plain ice. And—” he turns to ask what you’re having, then whips his head around when he hears the guy say your name.

His nametag reads Jimin.

“Lovely to see you here,” he announces, wearing a smile that has Jungkook looking between the two of you.

Your face remains blank.

“I’m guessing you guys know each other,” he enquires, tightening his grip on Bam’s leash.

“Yeah! I’m friends with her boyfriend. And you are?”

“I’m—”

“He’s just my neighbor.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow jumps when he hears how you rush out that statement, fingers fiddling with the flaps on your books.

“Ah I see,” Jimin replies, moving around to grab the cups, “what will you be having then?”

Jungkook pulls out his wallet, sliding enough cash along the granite.

“Watermelon. Jungkook you don’t have to do that,” you mumble, reaching into your bag.

Jungkook pats your shoulder, shaking his head furiously, “it’s fine. I got it.”

“Let him pay for you.”

Jungkook dislikes his condescending tone, and how you seem to be having a secret conversation with Jimin whenever your eyes meet. He wants to know why your mood suddenly changed after you entered the parlor. But before Jungkook can question it, you’re thanking him for the sorbet and marching in the direction of the library, leaving him perplexed.

He doesn’t have enough time to dissect your behavior because his meeting is in half an hour.

“If it isn’t the man, the myth, the legend!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, setting down his laptop on the oval-shaped table next to the effervescent analyst and good friend, Jung Hoseok.

Hoseok slaps his back, “it’s been two months since I last saw you! You should be all over me.”

Jungkook groans, waiting for his laptop to boot up, “it’s been less than two months.”

“Almost two months! And it would’ve been less if you considered going out with me whenever I asked.”

Jungkook mutters under his breath, busy opening the necessary documents he prepared for this afternoon’s meeting.

“No seriously, I’m seeing you after this long and you cut straight to business. We have half an hour before the meeting starts.”

“I’m just not in the mood.”

“Not in the mood?! Something’s up…”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jungkook sighs, knowing that Hoseok will pester him until he gives in, and he should probably talk to someone about it because it really isn’t that big of a deal.

“…There’s this girl—”

Hoseok grips the seat of his chair and scoots closer to him, “whenever there’s a girl involved, it’s always interesting.”

Jungkook shoots him a pointed look.

“Okay, continue.”

He sighs, “she’s my new neighbor and she works at Xpress, you know, the café opposite Seokjin’s bar.”

Hoseok tucks his fist under his chin, “yes I know.”

“She has a boyfriend and—” Jungkook grips Hoseok’s arm when his chair starts wheeling away “—just listen! I want to befriend her, you know, a couple of neighbors just in case one of us need some sugar or something. And we talk every time I see her in the hallway and today, we went out for a walk and everything was fine but then she started acting strange after she saw that guy at the ice cream store and—”

“Okay, let me ask you something…”

Jungkook puffs out a heavy breath, waiting for Hoseok to finish.

“She has a boyfriend…And you want to be friends with her. Why are you fretting?”

“I don’t know…I just—”

“I think you want to be more than friends with her.”

“No I don’t! How could I? She has a boyfriend,” Jungkook whispers, eyes on his lap.

“I think every single person in this company has a crush on you. Or had a crush on you at one point. Heck if I wasn’t married—”

Jungkook groans.

“My point is…why are you going after someone who is already in a relationship—” Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but is silenced when Hoseok holds up a finger “—sure, maybe you find her interesting and maybe she’s friendly with you, but you need to understand that she is taken by someone else and there are tons of girls who would love to date you.”

Jungkook blinks. Slightly disgusted by himself.

“I’m not judging you…just saying,” Hoseok adds, adjusting his khaki puffer jacket, “and if you want, I could help you out because I know you’re lazy when it comes to dating.”

Jungkook leans back in his chair, greeting each person that takes their seat at the table.

Hoseok is right. A part of him is attracted to you and that same part wishes you would give him more attention. But he needs to rid himself of that feeling because it’s immoral. He will keep the pleasantries between you but nothing more and he only hopes that the fragile walls of his heart don’t betray him.

Jungkook watches you push the doors to the café open, but this time you don’t wait because the black Hyundai is already parked there. Your eyes lift and meet his for a moment and Jungkook takes the opportunity to wave.

But you don’t wave back.

His hand swings at his side as he watches the car zoom off, eyebrows pinched together. Maybe you didn’t see him.

Recalling Hoseok’s words from earlier today, he steps into the bar and makes his way behind the makeshift stage, setting up the mic and speakers.

“I won’t be here tomorrow night.”

Seokjin’s eyebrows lift in surprise, “why?”

“I’m going on a date.”

Seokjin laughs, slapping his thigh before hitting Jungkook’s back, “yeah sure. Okay. Just say you want the night off, you don’t have to come up with excuses.”

Jungkook’s mouth hangs open with indignation, “what? I’m serious. Hoseok set me up on a date with one of the specialists.”

“So Hoseok is allowed to set you up on dates but I’m not?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, patting the mic to test the volume, “you never asked.”

He watches the older man’s lips form a pout, “fine. But I’m setting you up on the next one.”

“Hold on! Let’s see how tomorrow’s one goes,” Jungkook cackles, adjusting the height of the stand.

“The crowd will miss you tomorrow.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, “you’ll find a way to keep them entertained. Why don’t you sing?”

Seokjin’s shoulder lift up to his ears, “me? I can’t sing.”

With a laugh, he settles behind the mic and calls everyone’s attention.

He’s slightly nervous for his date tomorrow, since it’s a blind date set up by Hoseok, but that’s not the only thing on his mind. He wishes he could erase the way his heart fell a bit after you ignored him. He wonders if he did something wrong, or if you’re weirded out after he forced you into having ice-cream with him. It shouldn’t bother him, like Hoseok said, but it does, and he has no idea how to skip around that feeling. Maybe the date tomorrow night will be good for him.

But when the time comes, he doesn’t know what to wear or how to act. He hasn’t gone on a date in ages, the last time was with his ex-girlfriend, to celebrate six months together, before it ended a month later.

After skimming through his wardrobe, he settles on a white shirt and black slacks. Plain and simple. With a few good luck cuddles from Bam, he’s out the door and on his way to the restaurant.

He’s glad that he’s the first to arrive, that way he can prepare himself and have a good look at the menu to plan what he’ll order for dessert.

“Hi. Jungkook?”

Jungkook rises from his chair, keeping one hand on his chest while the other takes her outstretched one.

“Yes,” he smiles, scanning her face, “you are?”

“Lira.”

She sits opposite him, pushing her blonde hair over her shoulder while scanning the menu. He takes in her honeyed skin, hazel eyes, earrings touching her shoulders. She looks to be a few years older than him, but he won’t ask. That would be rude.

“You’re working on the FX project with Hoseok?”

Jungkook nods, slotting his fingers together, “yeah, what about you?”

“Nothing at the moment. Although I am planning a few personal things.”

Jungkook leans forward in interest, “oh?”

“Yeah, I’m actually building a website for the skincare brand I’m launching in a few months.”

“That sounds great,” he compliments, noting the way she blushes, “I can tell that you’re well-researched in that field.”

She smooths down a strand of hair, exposing her glowing skin.

“I’m serious! You have amazing skin.”

With a giggle, she reaches across the table to hit the back of Jungkook’s hand lightly.

“Stop…”

“Well, if you ever need help with that website, give me a call.”

“I will once I get your number,” she flutters her lashes.

Jungkook snorts, “right.”

By the end of the evening, Jungkook is satisfied with the food and his date. She’s pretty, intelligent, they work in the same field and she’s a dog person, which is something that is prioritized on Jungkook’s list of qualities when choosing a partner. However, if they happened to bump into each other in the tearoom, or have a casual chat before returning to work, the conversation would’ve gone the exact same way as it did tonight. In other words, he didn’t feel that…spark. But he isn’t opposed to a second date.

Feeling peckish, despite the hefty meal from earlier, he orders two large pizzas as he walks up the stairs to his apartment, freezing when he sees you entering yours.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he enters the keycode then pauses when he notices that you’re still standing at your door.

“You’re dressed up.”

“Yeah, had a date.”

“Really? How’d it go?”

Jungkook turns to you, breath catching in his throat when he sees the dress you’re wearing. Red is definitely your color.

“It went okay…”

You nod, “cool. Anyway, I’m starving. Gonna make myself some ram—”

“I ordered pizza…we can share. If you want,” he mumbles the last part, wondering how his mouth can move without his brain function.

You hesitate before you answer, pulling your door shut again and closing the short space between you. Bam offers his greetings as Jungkook kicks off his shoes and tidies up the lounge, wondering what you’re going to do in the meantime while you wait for the pizza. And what will you do after? He didn’t think things through and he’s contradicting himself by inviting you into his home and delighting in your company.

“It’s so warm in here.”

Jungkook spins around to see that you’re making yourself comfortable on his couch, surrounded by his pillows, his dog crowding your legs that glisten in the light.

“S-Should I turn on the AC?”

You shake your head, ponytail swishing with the movement, “it’s okay.”

He juts his thumb in the direction of the kitchen, “would you like some water or Coke? Juice?”

Your mouth quirks to the side, “I want to try that kombucha you like so much. If that’s okay with you.”

Jungkook doesn’t bother to hide the large smile that splits his face, “okay.”

He watches you fuss over Bam, ignoring the tug in his chest at how oddly comfortable it feels to have you relax in his apartment, awaiting the pizza you’re about to share.

“I brought some water too, just in case you don’t like the taste,” he explains, setting down the glasses and a can of Coke for himself on the coffee table, taking a seat tentatively.

He watches with bated breath as your lips touch the rim of the glass. The citrusy liquid spills into your mouth just as your eyes go wide, pulling the glass away to stare at it.

“Mmm, it tastes so good. I didn’t expect this at all,” you announce, taking another swig while Jungkook cheers, still grinning like a fool.

“It is tasty. This particular flavor,” he speaks around a smile, popping his can open then springing up when he hears a knock on his door.

He returns to the lounge with two large boxes and a scrumptious aroma filling the air. Rushing to the kitchen to fetch some plates, he sees you eyeing the pizzas but not making a move while Bam sniffs around it.

“What are you waiting for? Dig in! Here’s a plate.”

You thank him with a smile, taking the plate from his hands then holding your stomach with a sharp ‘ooh.’

“What is it?” Jungkook mumbles into his pizza, fighting with the cheese.

“Nothing,” you giggle, leaning forward to take a slice, “my stomach was grumbling.”

Jungkook grips onto his plate, heart bursting at how cute you’re being. His head jolts forward when you glance at him, shooting him a thumbs up.

The only sounds that fill the air are your soft munching and slurping. Jungkook apologizes for the vacant TV stand.

“That’s okay. I prefer to enjoy my food without having anything else to do. Like, I know some people have to occupy themselves while they eat.”

Jungkook licks his lips, “I do that sometimes. I spend half an hour looking for a good YouTube video before I actually eat.”

You chuckle, lifting the glass once more, “nothing wrong with that.”

It’s silent around you again, with Jungkook’s mind searching for another topic.

“I like your tattoos…and piercings, so cool,” you whisper, eyes dancing across his arm and face.

Jungkook’s gaze falls to his arm as if he just discovered that he had an arm full of ink.

“Thank you.”

He wants to tell you how much he likes it when you’re wearing a ponytail because that way he can see your pretty face better. He wants to tell you how much he adores the way your eyes widen whenever you bump into each other in the hallway. He wants to gush about how much time he spent wondering how it would feel to hold the hands you hide under your sleeves. He wants to say that he likes how your jaw moves as you’re chewing, how beautiful you look in that dress, how he finds the small thing you do with your hands as you’re talking so endearing. Most importantly, he wants to tell you that he wishes you were his because he can’t get your eyes, your cheeks, your lips out of his mind.

“Jungkook?”

He sucks in a heavy breath, “yeah?”

“I asked if I could give Bam a piece? He’s giving me those eyes.”

Jungkook looks at his pup who must be a mirror image of him, sitting between your legs.

He clears his throat after taking a much-needed sip of his drink, “just a small piece of the crust.”

You bounce on the couch, breaking off a piece, “yay! You hear that? Your dad said you could have some. Just a bit!”

Jungkook might implode, can crinkling beneath his fingertips, a feeble attempt at holding on to his sanity. He never wanted to cuddle and kiss someone as much as he does right now. You’re in a relationship, he reminds himself. That lucky bastard.

“I wanted to pay you back for yesterday but here I am,” you giggle, wiping your mouth with a tissue.

Jungkook waves a hand dismissively, “no, you don’t have to worry about paying me back. I don’t mind.”

I don’t mind doing things for you.

You fold your legs on the couch, dress riding up your thighs, “I’ll definitely return the favor.”

Jungkook scratches behind his ear, “you could make me those meat cutlets.”

Your lips part, eyes narrowing, “you’re talking about…the ones I make for Xpress?”

Jungkook’s head might screw off with how hard he nods, “yeah!”

Covering your face with your hands, you groan into the fabric of your sleeves, “I told Soobin not to tell anyone that I make them! If my mother finds out I’m using her recipes she might kill me.”

Jungkook laughs, arm sprawled across the backrest, “why would she kill you? You’re not handing out her recipes. They’re fucking delicious.”

Your eyes soften, “thank you. She’s just a bit possessive.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook smirks, “well, I won’t tell your mother that you’re using her recipes.”

You smile, the orange streetlight filtering into the lounge and reflecting off your eyes, “of course.”

Jungkook refuses to break the electricity between you, eyes smoldering into his with the same smile playing on your lips. But he remembers, you’re not his.

“Should I turn the AC on now?” He pads across the floor, heart lodged in his throat.

When you stand from the couch and make your way to the door, Jungkook regrets asking.

“Actually, I should probably head home. I have a test tomorrow,” you inform, zipping up your boots.

“Good luck.”

He leans on the doorframe as he watches you shuffle to your apartment.

“What a trip,” you laugh.

Jungkook chuckles, “good night.”

“Night.”

And when Jungkook presses his back against the door, head tilted up, he knows that as long as he’s seeing you, as long as you’re there, there’s no way he can stop the stuttering of his heart, the inevitable fall into you. The thing he can do, is restrain himself and push down his feelings.

Jungkook assumed that your little meal together was a one-time thing, but the night after that and the night after that and the nights for the next two weeks are filled with food, giggles and endless conversations. He’s glad that Bam is around for support, not like there’s nothing to talk about, because there’s so much Jungkook wants to know about you, so much he discovers about you.

“You’ve never seen John Wick before? Oh my God…”

That’s how you end up spending the entire night watching all three John Wick movies, and by 4AM, his head is lolling forward and somehow, he had fallen asleep with his hand under your cheek and your head on his lap while his stretched over the armrest. You’re apologizing profusely for drooling on his hand, yelling ‘I never do this,’ ‘it’s because I wasn’t sleeping in my bed, ‘I was really tired,’ but Jungkook is just as insistent that it’s absolutely fine.

He’s telling Seokjin that he doesn’t need to organize a date for him this Saturday because the one with Lira went okay and he might send her text, too distracted to notice that you’re stepping into the bar, holding a familiar yellow bag stuffed with goodies.

Seokjin pats his shoulder, “look who’s here.”

Jungkook spins around, mind racing when he sees you walking toward him wearing the same smile from last night.

“Hi,” you wave, walking around one of the tables to stand a few feet away from him, proffering the bag, “this is part of my apology, for making you stay up to watch John Wick and for…drooling on your hand.”

Jungkook takes the heavy gift from you, top folded over neatly while you stare at your shoes, holding your hands behind your back.

“You didn—”

You hold up a finger, eyes bulging out comically, “don’t! I knew you were gonna say that.”

He chuckles, ignoring Seokjin’s confused pout as he watches the exchange from behind you.

“What’s in here? It smells so good,” he moans, peeking into the bag before being slapped on his wrist. Jungkook’s eyes widen, he didn’t expect it to hurt this much. He places his fingers on the sore area, lips puckered.

“It’s a surprise mix,” you announce proudly, “heat it up before you eat it.”

“What’s in the surprise mix?”

You knock a fist on his forehead, “it won’t be a surprise mix if I tell you!”

“Fine, fine. But I’m hungry…”

He follows you out the entrance, heart thumping in his chest because this is the first time you visited him at the bar.

“It’s still hot, if you want to eat it now.”

Jungkook nods, thanking you as you skip across the street.

You wave, “no problem!”

Jungkook’s enters with a goofy smile, before it’s wiped off his face when he sees Seokjin, arms folded, broad shoulders popping up.

“She’s still with her boyfriend,” he reminds, gesturing out the window where the black Hyundai parks outside the café, just like every other day.

“I know!”

Jungkook’s eyes shift from the judgemental look on his boss’ face to the bag in his hands.

“I thought you forgot.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I didn’t. And it’s not a big deal, we can be friends. We’re neighbors!”

“I know that,” Seokjin exasperates, slinging an arm around the younger’s shoulders, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.”

You’re spending Tuesday and Thursday afternoons walking Bam together, strolling to the library while Jungkook feels like he could spend decades, centuries walking by your side. The seasons morph into one another and it’s time for him to pull out the Christmas songs. But with the snow, comes the biting cold, and uncharted portions of your life that he is compelled to tread.

“Let’s go.”

Jungkook pats Bam’s back, leaping from his chair with a bit more bounce than any other day because it’s another Thursday. Another afternoon he gets to spend with you.

He’s opening the door, expecting to see you when you’re not waiting out in the hall like you usually do. He decides to wait for a while. Almost twenty minutes later, and you’re not out yet.

Puzzled, Jungkook takes the few steps toward your apartment, mustering the courage to knock on your door.

Bam paces the hallway.

“We’re going out in a bit, Bam.”

Jungkook raps on the door, calling out your name softly then presses his ear to the wood when he hears shuffling on the other side.

It’s too late when the thought that you might be busy with your boyfriend enters his mind because the door is swinging open.

His smile falls when he takes in your bleary eyes and blotchy cheeks. Nose covered by your sleeve.

“Hey,” you sniffle, wiping your nose with a tissue as you smile down at Bam, “heyy.”

“Hey…uhm, I was just wondering where you were since we go for walks this time but it’s fine if you don’t want to,” he hears himself say, too worried to step away from the door. The forced smile you’re putting only has his concern heightening.

You nod, “yeah, I think I’m gonna stay home today. Not feeling too good.”

By the slight droop to your eyes, Jungkook can tell that it isn’t the cold.

He wants to ask what’s wrong, what happened, why you look so glum, but he doesn’t want to seem nosy.

“Well, if you need anything, I’m just next door.”

“Thank you, Jungkook,” a gentle smile on your lips, voice nasally.

Despite the fact that he’s bothered by your state, he hooks on Bam’s leash and makes his way down the stairs. Mind clogged by the distressed look on your face. He knows that it’s only normal for relationships to have their ups and downs, assuming that’s what the issue is, but that doesn’t stop his heart from aching each time your puffy, red eyes flash in his thoughts. The bitter side of him knows that if you were with him, he would never let a single tear drop from your eyes, maybe out of happiness, but never with pain. Other than that, he’s concerned as a friend.

His afternoon walk with Bam is cut short and he’s preoccupied for the rest of the day right until he falls off to sleep. He can just hope that tomorrow would be better for you because he adores your genuine, full-cheeked smile.

During the next week, he doesn’t see much of you. Not even outside the café and he wonders if you were truly sick since you’re not going to work. He spent his days thinking of an excuse to talk to you, see if you’re okay, if you need anything.

Come Sunday and he’s trudging to your apartment with determined strides. Your cooking remains unparalleled and what better excuse does he need?

He knocks on your door, then shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking on his toes. He’s more than relieved to see that you’re okay once you open the door, wearing the same hoodie from the day you first met, knocking the breath from his lungs.

“Hii.”

“Hey,” Jungkook grins sheepishly, “sorry for disturbing you on a Sunday night but I was wondering if you have a good recipe for pancakes? All mine just tastes like…shit.”

You chuckle, shoulder pressing into the door, “I think I can help.”

“Okay. Great.”

“Okay…”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow right before he realizes that you’re waiting for him to move.

“Oh. Yeah…yeah,” he laughs to himself, about to knock his head against the wall.

He hears your front door close as he makes his way to the kitchen, dishes and utensils already set on the counter because he really does want some pancakes.

You’re walking around the counter, rolling up your sleeves, “let’s see what you got here.”

Jungkook takes your minor distraction as an opening to admire your side profile. The brightness in your eyes and skip in your step fills Jungkook’s heart, after a week of haunting thoughts and nightmares surrounding a common theme, he’s thrilled to see you like this, in his home, all snuggly and cosy in your hoodie and fuzzy socks.

You lift the bag of sugar, head tilting in his direction, “do you have eggs?”

“Uhm,” Jungkook opens the refrigerator then a few cupboards before deciding, “nope.”

“We’re gonna need eggs.”

Jungkook rushes out the kitchen, “I can go buy some.”

You giggle, passing him with a light tap to his shoulder which has Jungkook’s breath hitching.

“I can go get some of mine. Relax.”

Jungkook is relaxed. So calm. Totally unfazed by your rose scent and pretty smile. Seokjin’s bored face kicks out any further thought: ‘She has a boyfriend.’

Right.

He needs to be respectful, you’re just a couple of neighbors helping each other out. Nothing less. Nothing more.

You return with small basket, nudging the door shut with your foot, “I brought some syrup and jams also. Just in case you didn’t have any.”

“I have apricot jam,” Jungkook informs, scratching the back of his head.

You scrunch up your nose, cutely, setting the basket down then emptying it, “berry jam goes well with pancakes. Here I got, strawberry, youngberry, blueberry and raspberry jam.”

Jungkook licks his lips over-dramatically, “I can’t wait.”

Already starting with the eggs, Jungkook observes your skilful fingers as you crack the eggs with one hand, plopping them into the dish.

“I have an apron,” he mentions, pulling open a drawer to produce the material.

“I don’t really need it,” you state, measuring out the sugar, “but if you want me to wear it I will.”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your face, “you can wear it if you want to.”

“It’s your kitchen.”

“It’s your clothes that’ll get dirty.”

You peer at him over your shoulder, lips lifted in a grin, “you want me to wear it.”

“No,” he breathes, placing the apron to your left, ”I don’t, but I won’t mind if you do.”

You squint at him.

“What?”

“Just say you want me to wear it.”

“No, you can w—”

“God,” you cackle, unfolding the fabric to hold it to your chest, “there. Now tie me up.”

Jungkook swallows, heartrate picking up when you comb your hair over your shoulder.

With trembling fingers, he knots the strings and moves away with a small ‘there,’ heart stuck in his throat.

“Thank you. Now, do you have a frying pan that we can use?”

Jungkook can’t comprehend the domesticity of the situation, nudging hips, arms brushing as you’re working side by side. Well, you’re doing the hard parts while he cleans up, but you’re still including him by asking him to mix the batter, a perfect opportunity to show you his muscle strength and by the end, the potent fragrance of vanilla wafts into the air, making his tummy grumble.

“Come eat with us,” Jungkook beams, fork and knife in hand, ready to tuck in.

You shake your head, handing him the strawberry jam, “enjoy.”

“Come on.”

“Nah, I’m gonna head—”

“You made it, you got to have a piece,” Jungkook insists, pulling out the chair next to him.

“I’m on a diet.”

Jungkook feels a hint of guilt tamper with his excitement. He was being so insistent.

“Okay.”

He cuts a small piece and tosses it into his mouth, disheartened that you’re going so early.

His head snaps up when he hears the legs of the chair scraping beside him.

“Maybe just a small piece.”

You’re leaning in toward him, heat radiating off your body as you pluck a piece from the stack and pop it into your mouth.

“Is it good?”

“I should be asking you,” you snort, dusting your hands.

He nods, “really good. Especially with the jam.”

“You’re welcome.”

He’s trying to ignore the way your chest brushes his arm. Hair tickling his skin, face a few inches away from his.

“What’s the plans for Christmas this year?”

Jungkook sucks a bit of jam off his thumb, avoiding your eyes, “my parents are on vacation this year, so I might stay home and spend it with Bam. What about you?”

You prop your elbow on the table, fist pressed into your cheek, “not sure yet. I visit my parents often so…maybe I’ll spend it with them.”

“That’s nice,” he mumbles, nails digging into his thigh when your boobs press into his arm again.

“Hey, you have a little—”

“What?” Jungkook tilts his head away from you, noting how your eyes stick to his lips, index finger pointing to your own mouth.

“Oh,” he attempts to wipe it away with his palm but you giggle, catching his wrist then bringing your other hand up to his face.

He’s certain that the way his heart is pumping in his chest might kill him when your thumb brushes the corner of his lips, berry breath kissing his face as your soft skin brushes the side of his mouth.

His tongue feels thick and dry, like a brick centered in his mouth, eyes set on yours as you draw away slowly. You’re scanning every inch of his face, just as he does the same, absorbing each freckle, each mole, each dip and curve of your features. It feels as if he’s slotting into your eyes, as if he’s cascading into a bottomless pit. No sign of reaching the end. Glossy, pink lips. He imagines that it tastes sweeter than the jam on your tongue. Your supple, shapely throat. Begging to be marked by his teeth. It might be a figment of his imagination, but if he takes a moment to unlatch from your gaze, he might notice that you’re leaning in, slowly, lashes dusting your cheeks.

You clear your throat, the deafening sound of the chair scraping across the floorboards snapping him back to reality.

He’s panting, heart strangled around his throat.

“Just…wanted to wash my hand,” you call from the kitchen, out of his line of sight.

His hand smooths up and down his chest, the mush of pancakes rising like acid. It doesn’t help that the air seems to have thickened, sweat beading across his forehead.

You return to the dining room, hands fisting into your pockets, “wanna watch a movie?”

Sometimes, you’re a full-bloom of red roses. Perfuming the wind as it kisses along your petals, staining the air. That’s when Jungkook likes you the most, the animated way you speak, wonder blazing in your eyes, smile shooting an arrow straight through his heart. Other times, you’re a single, dainty pink rose. Thoughtful, puiqant, heart enamelled by your watered-down smile. Recently, he’s catching a glimpse of your traitorous grin, petals withered and sodden, eyes vapid.

From time to time, you’re a buxom white rose. When you’re with your lover, a complete stranger to him. And all he does is wait for your petals to fade into the crimson he loves.

Jungkook squints at the label of a bottle of sesame oil. He has recently been learning how to cook, with a little help from you, but he wants to impress you by cooking an outrageous meal, yet he’s been stuck in the spice aisle for a good ten minutes.

After scanning the label thoroughly, he chucks it into his cart and rolls around the corner to the tills, mentally ticking off the groceries he needed before returning to the pet care aisle. He’s greeting the cashier and setting each item on the counter when he sees you, smile falling when he notices that you’re hooked under someone’s arm. Not just anyone, your boyfriend.

The first time he’s ever seeing you with him. Tall, dark sunglasses, long coat, hair tucked under a beanie while you’re leaning into him, face unreadable.

Jungkook doesn’t think twice before calling out your name and waving, however, similar to all that time months ago, before you became good friends, you ignore him. Jungkook’s heart leaps to his throat, blood rushing to his ears as he watches you hand the bags of groceries to your boyfriend and saunter through the exit, not looking back once.

It’s Friday night and he’s on his way to meet Lira. He wouldn’t call their regular meetings ‘dates’ since they spend the entirety of the evening discussing her e-commerce business.

However, his plans take a turn when he receives a phonecall from you, sounding distressed. He almost ignored your call but decided against it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call.”

Jungkook holds the phone close to his ear, panic rising in his throat upon hearing the slight wobble in your voice.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need a ride.”

“Okay,” he switches on the engine, fingers curling around the steering wheel, “where are you?”

A sob filters through the speaker, shattering his heart, “I don’t know.”

“What? Okay, calm down. Can you send me your location?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, go ahead and do that. I’m on my way.”

“Wait!”

“Yeah?” He’s waiting for your text, switching on the speaker.

“Can you stay on call with me until you get here? It’s dark.”

Jungkook pulls onto the road, hearing his phone ping.

“How did you end up there?!”

“It’s…a long story,” you mumble, “are you coming?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hold on. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Jungkook is more than curious to know how you ended up near the bridge miles away from town. His heart is racing, cursing himself for blatantly breaking the rules of the road until he knows you’re safe and sound. He won’t tell you that it’ll take him half an hour to get to you, even with his car speeding through the roads.

“I’m almost there,” he soothes, mind rushing just as his car zooms up the bend, ignoring the honks around him until he spots you standing between the trees, face lit by his headlights.

You sprint to his car and exhale deeply once you’re seated while Jungkook remains wide-eyed, heart pounding even more after seeing the state you’re in. Similar to the night he abhors revisiting.

“Would you tell me how you landed in the middle of nowhere at 10 in the night?”

You scrub your hands down your cheeks, staring out the window.

Jungkook taps the wheel with his thumb impatiently.

“I’ll tell you on the way home,” you whisper, voice gruff.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, staring at the back of your head before clicking his tongue.

But you don’t say a word the whole ride home, stewing, while keeping your eyes on the road signs as they blur into the night, Jungkook’s mind jumping to all kinds of conclusions with the common denominator that is your boyfriend.

Once you’re home, you try to dash past him, but he catches the hem of your jacket, reeling you toward him until you’re a foot away.

“I ditched my date because you called, I think I deserve to know what happened.”

You meet his gaze, an unfamiliar glaze over your eyes, “sorry you missed your date, but you could’ve easily said no.”

Jungkook gasps, “you’re missing the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is that I’m tired of guessing what’s up with you…I thought we were friends but sometimes you ignore me…sometimes you’re nice,” he shrugs, obviously an understatement, “friends tell each other things.”

He sucks in a shaky breath to tame his annoyance because the tear caught on your lashes makes him furious.

“It’s complicated.”

Jungkook shakes his head and opens his mouth to laugh that it’s not a valid answer when you’re cutting him off.

“My boyfriend and I got into an argument and he left me there…on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere,” you chuckle emptily, “happy?”

Jungkook is far from happy. He’s at a loss for words because which asshole would do that to his girlfriend?

He grits his teeth, knowing that you’re not the one he should be mad at.

“Can I go to bed now…I’m really tired and I have work tomorrow,” you yawn, as if it meant nothing. As if you, left out there, all alone, isn’t a big deal.

Jungkook wonders if you’re used to this kind of behavior. The thought adds fuel to his anger. He wants to drive his fist into a wall, you really are tired, your sunken eyes, pale lips, hollow cheeks. You’re exhausted. But you’re waving it off, treating it as if it’s nothing. Maybe you aren’t worried because you broke up? Break ups can be heated. Arguments sprout before the end. That’s how it usually goes.

He nods, “okay. Have a good rest.”

“Good night,” you mumble, already making your way to your apartment, shoulders slumped.

Jungkook thinks you’re foolish for behaving this way, but he’ll say nothing because it’s your life. And to you, he’s just your neighbor and occasional friend. Whenever you feel like. Whenever it’s suitable for you. He will continue to pretend as if he doesn’t wish to be more than that. More than just someone who fulfils your favors.

With a rose, comes its thorns.

The next day, after his shift at the bar, you visit him with a plateful of food and wide smile, and he questions if the night before was just a weird dream. But his postponed dinner with Lira proves that it wasn’t. And again, he bites his tongue. Refrains from enquiring about the salient night before because you’re okay. Now. A variegated rose.

But for the first time, one afternoon, he hears your hearty laugh, pausing in his step to listen until another laugh chimes in. Loud and deep. A man’s laugh. Your boyfriend’s laugh.

He pays no mind to the chip in his heart that day, because you still see him later that evening and he can’t help but notice that you’re chirpier than usual. The thought that it’s your boyfriend’s doing has him struggling for sleep.

Friends can ask about each other’s love life?

But Jungkook doesn’t want to know. He chooses not to know and accepts your company. Your company as a friend.

And then Jungkook is hearing sounds he wishes were coming from his apartment. Because it’s you.

Your moans penetrate through his walls along with your boyfriend’s. Jungkook can’t even get a decent wank. Porn doesn’t even do it for him these days, which has him left even more frustrated. Frustrated that you’re enjoying sex with your boyfriend while he is stuck with abused ears and a limp dick.

Hook-ups aren’t his thing anymore. He’s lived that up in college. Because he’s invested in developing a close bond with someone, emotionally, spiritually then physically, but his recent predicament has him considering Lira and her ample boobs. She’s sexy and he would fuck her, but all the talk of salve and serum has him reconsidering.

All he envisions is your expression of bliss as you reach your high, lips parted, writhing beneath him until you can’t take anymore, until you’re both worn out and stinking of sex.

“What’s up?”

Jungkook lifts his head, shaking it slightly before locking his phone and setting it on the table.

He chooses to hoist himself up on the counter and watch you from the kitchen because Bam is taking all the space on the couch next to you and he refuses to torture himself with your scent.

“Nothing, just talking to Lira about Saturday,” he mumbles, picking at the calluses on his hand.

“Ooooh,” you sing, dropping a cushion on your lap, “you’re spending New Years’ Eve with her?”

He nods, “what about you? Any plans?” Or are you gonna fuck the day away.

You shrug, fingers dancing across Bam’s shoulders, “not sure. Might go to that thing they have every year. You know, with the fireworks and food.”

Jungkook straightens his posture, “really? That’s where Lira wants to go. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

You meet his gaze briefly, smile faltering.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Right. You’ll be there with your boyfriend.

He pats his thighs and hops off the counter, crouching down in front of his brand new TV that he may or may not have bought because of you. Because he was tired of having to deal with you sitting so close to him when you would watch movies on his laptop. Now he can sit far away from you and watch in peace. If he pretends that you’re not there. But how could he? When his thunderous heartbeat reminds him that the girl he’s slowly but surely…he doesn’t want to think about it. All he knows is that he can never say no to you.

“What do you wanna watch tonight?”

He spins around when he receives silence as an answer, your eyes on the carpet.

“I don’t feel like watching anything today,” you mumble, tucking your legs under your bum.

“Oh…okay,” he walks toward the couch and pat’s Bam for a tiny gap to sit on, “what do you wanna do then?”

You turn to him, hair sweeping across your collarbones, “I don’t know…talk.”

Today, you’re a peach, lush rose. Mellow and velvety. Like the embers of a sunset, smile lines creasing with your eyes. He wants to kiss you, each time you look at him with the same clinkering orbs.

“About what?”

You giggle, fidgeting with the frills on the cushion, “what we usually talk about. Food, work, life, family.”

“I told you about Lira. Let’s talk about your boyfriend,” Jungkook blurts, eyes glued to your face, gauging your reaction.

He observes the steady rise and fall of your chest, locket sat between your breasts.

“What about him?”

Jungkook tries to keep his tone passive, “I don’t know. You never talk about him.”

“There’s not much to say really,” you begin, staring at the black screen of the TV, “we’ve been together for almost two years now. We knew each other from high school. He’s kind, charming, sweet. Rich.”

“Sounds like the perfect guy,” Jungkook hides the malice in his voice, elbow pressed into the backrest while he leans on his fist, head cocked to the side.

“Guess so,” you turn to him briefly before refocussing on the threads hanging from the cushion, “I miss high school.”

Before Jungkook can comment, your smile returns.

“My last year in high school was probably the best. Before Seokjin could buy this building, this very building, it was just a shell and we would spend New Years on the rooftop,” you laugh, wistful smile drifting over your lips.

“Wait, you guys had parties on the rooftop here?”

“Mhm, the place used to be completely…trashed by the morning.”

“I’ve never been on the rooftop before,” he realizes, hangnail snagged between his teeth.

You smack his knee, “you’re kidding! You’ve been working here since your first year of college and you didn’t know about the rooftop?”

“Guess it’s not hot and happening like it was when you were a teenager,” he chuckles.

You grip his arm and tug him toward the door, only because he lets you.

“We have to go there. Right now,” you announce, putting on your sandals and waving Bam over.

When you step out into the hallway, goosebumps rise all over Jungkook’s skin with the cold.

He tugs you back, glancing at your bare legs, “why don’t you wear a jacket or something? It’s so fucking cold.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m fine. But if you’re feeling cold maybe you should get a jacket,” you tease, poking at his chest.

He loves when you’re playful with him like this, eyes brimming with mirth. He bites his cheek when you smile at him over your shoulder. It’s difficult to avoid staring at your ass, your silky thighs.

You stop after four flights of stairs, large metal door a foot away. He bumps into your back lightly, before holding his palms up and moving away.

“I haven’t been here in ages,” you say, fingers curling around the handle.

Jungkook nudges your shoulder, “you’re so dramatic. Just open the door.”

You hit his shoulder back before shoving the door open and immediately, Bam charges out into the open space. Plain. Empty. Low walls.

Jungkook wraps his arms around his body to shield himself from the cold, squinting into the night and twinkling lights below.

“Bam! Be careful!”

He guides his pup toward the middle. Horrendous thoughts popping into his mind when he peers over the edge.

“What? Afraid of heights? We’re not even that high,” you speak into his ear, palm splayed across his back.

Jungkook twists around, chin tipped up, “are you afraid of heights?”

You take a step back, “no.”

He takes a step forward, gaze raking down your figure, “then why are you hiding behind me?"

"I’m not,” you snap, reeling back when he crowds your space, “what are you doing?”

Jungkook shakes his head, smirking, “nothing. What are you doing?”

He rushes toward you and encircles your waist with his arms, lifting you off the ground.

“No! NO! PUT ME DOWN! JUNGKOOK I’M GONNA KILL YOU,” you shriek, beating his arms with your fists when he spins you around and holds you close to the edge.

“Are you afraid of heights?” He pants, tickling your sides, “just admit it. Then I’ll let you go!”

“I AM NOT! Stop Jungkook, stop,” you giggle, squirming in his hold until he relents, setting you down with a huff then attacking your sides once again.

Bam barks and hops from one end to the other. Pawing at Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook moves away when he sees tears collecting in your ears, face red.

You place your hands on your knees, catching your breath. He hopes he didn’t overdo it.

“Hey, I’m sorr—”

“You let me go so quickly.”

“What?”

You grin, backing him into the wall until his knees hit the brick. Jungkook has no idea what you’re up to, but he’ll entertain you.

A crack of thunder has his shoulders jumping to his ears, the biting cold seeping into his sweater.

“We should head back,” he says with a nod to the door, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear when a powerful gust of wind passes you.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of thunder,” you mock, eyebrow jumping.

He groans, “I’m not. I just don’t like the cold.”

With another rumble of thunder and a flash of lighting, the clouds perforate and a downpour of rain starts to thump against the ground.

Jungkook curses, running along the slippery concrete with Bam.

He yanks the door open then freezes when he notices that you aren’t following them.

Yelling out your name, his shoulders drop as he takes in the sight of you sitting at the edge of the wall, drenched by the rain that shows no sign of ceasing soon.

Psyching himself up, he instructs Bam to wait in the hall while he dashes through the shower, placing a hand on your shoulder and shouting over the loud pitter patter that blocks out any other sound.

Your hair lays flat against your head, sodden clothing accentuating your figure as you stand in front of him, catching his hand. He’s fighting for his breath.

“Enjoy the rain.”

Jungkook struggles to discern your expression, “what?”

“Relax, let’s enjoy the rain for a while.”

He lets out an amused chuckle, “this isn’t a movie or something. We could get sick!”

“You’re such a buzz kill!”

In your attempt to run away from him, you slip in a puddle that formed with the relentless rain, squealing as you go but he catches you with an arm around your waist, pulling you up.

“Be careful,” he warns, face a breath away from yours when you cling onto his back, arms around his neck.

If your heart can stop when you sneeze, then Jungkook’s stops whenever you look at him. The glitter in your eyes when you’re looking at him now, fingers twisting in his shirt, body pressed to his, unable to make the distinction between his heat and yours.

“Jungkook…”

Even through the clamorous rain, he hears it. His heart hears it. The need in your voice.

He tightens his hold around your waist, pressing his forehead to yours before drawing in a shaky breath.

Your hot breath makes his lips tingle, skin goosing when your nails drag up into his hair.

His mind becomes hazy, lids heavy, immobile under your hold. His gaze drops to your neck, a fading bruise in the crook, he takes a step away despite the ache in his chest. A soft shake to his head. Water drips down your chin, locket beaming in the darkness as you turn away and disappear behind the metal door. Leaving him in the booming thunder, a perfect depiction of his mood.

All Jungkook can think of is you, the concoction of rain and your scent on your skin. On his skin. Your touch, lips a kiss away, eyes loud and telling. That’s the last memory he has of you. Tossing and turning in bed.

He hasn’t seen you since that night and a major part of him is glad. Because he doesn’t know what he’ll say or do to you when he does see you.

You want him. And he wants you.

But you have someone else.

He should not be thinking of you when he has someone else on his arm, spewing praises into his ear as they make their way up the hill, passing the food stalls and barbecues until they reach the top, squeezing through the crowd of people to watch the fireworks indicating the start of a new year.

Jungkook knows he’ll see you here, it’s only a matter of time before he picks you out. Because even in a sea of people, his eyes will land on you effortlessly.

And he does see you, smiling up at your boyfriend, unaware that his heart is calling out to you, yearning for you. So confused.

“Do you want some fries?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook places a hand on Lira’s lower back, guiding her to the stall.

He’s not expecting a greeting, a minor nod or even a glance in his direction from you because that’s the way you are around your boyfriend. Something he finds weird if you’re just friends.

“Here,” Lira hands him the cones stuffed with fried chips and grabs the sauce bottle, squeezing out a healthy amount, “do you want mustard too?”

“Nah.”

She stuffs a few into her mouth, humming, “so fresh. We should find a nice spot. It’s almost time.”

Jungkook scans the populated grass, squinting under the string lights. Avoiding the empty spot near you and your boyfriend who has a tight hold around your shoulders.

“Let’s go there,” Lira points to the same spot he’s been bypassing and pulls his hand before he can protest.

He keeps his eyes on Lira as she crosses her legs and gets comfortable on the grass before he does the same. In order for him to see you, he would need to turn around so that’s what he doesn’t do for the rest of the night.

“So, you’re gonna be my new year’s kiss?”

Jungkook smiles, “if you want me to.”

Lira blushes, pinching his arm, “you’re so sweet!”

Jungkook would think she’s sweet too if he didn’t go home after each date with bruises on his arms. Not the kind he likes.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you watching him and Lira. Jungkook knows that it would be incredibly dumb to try to make you jealous because he’s the one burning with envy, but he does it anyway.

“3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

He grabs the back of Lira’s neck and presses his lips to hers, tongue pushing through the seam of her lips to taste mustard. Blocking the taste out temporarily, he slides his fingers through her hair, prolonging the kiss until he pulls away, seeing the dazed look on her face.

“That was our first kiss,” she coos, pecking his cheek, “can’t wait to see what this year has in store for us.”

“Me too,” he mumbles, compunction after the kiss lodging in his throat.

He needs to cut things off with Lira, or set a professional boundary due to his lack of feelings.

An hour later, Lira is staggering down the hill to his car, slurring her words.

“Sorry. I drank a lot,” she burps, letting Jungkook buckle her in.

He laughs, “it’s okay. I’ll get you home, okay?”

She hums, tucking her hands under her cheek when he flattens out the seat for her comfort, “okay.”

By the time Jungkook gets home, he’s drained, rolling his shoulders and neck with a groan.

“Hey!”

He grips the railing in fright!

“Hah! You got scared.”

You’re sitting against his front door, hair mussed, eyes glazed over.

“What are you doing here?”

You hop up and place your hands on his shoulders, “I’m hungry.”

“You’re drunk.”

Great. Another pair of heels for him to remove.

A crease forms between your brows, “yes. But I’m still hungry!”

“You need water,” he sighs, pushing open his door and inviting you in. Despite warning himself not to. Ever again.

You flop down the couch, dress lifting off your thighs, legs spread.

“Here,” he hands it to you and pulls off your heeled boots, glued to the spot by your hand.

“Thanks.”

He stares at your fingers, white nail polish chipped at the sides.

“You and Lira are doing good. I saw that kiss today,” you poke.

He nods, sitting down next to you, “guess so.”

“My boyfriend he…uhm,” your voice trembles.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

Jungkook places a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles when you try to catch your breath, tears staining your cheeks.

He whispers your name, wiping away your tears with his knuckles, “talk to me.”

You shake your head, “it’s embarrassing.”

“What could be more embarrassing than me being afraid of thunder? At my big age.”

You give him a teary smile, wiping away your tears furiously.

He waits. Moving closer to you. Heartrate speeding up.

“He cheated on me,” you sigh, rubbing your chin with your palm, “he cheats on me.”

“Wh—When did you find out?”

Jungkook’s ears turn hot. Especially when more tears drip down your face.

“A while ago.”

“Why are you still with him? Is that why you had that argument all those weeks ago?”

You laugh, eyes lifting to the ceiling, “I told you. It’s complicated.”

“Is he blackmailing you? Does he have something against you because—”

“No! Jungkook, he doesn’t. I just…”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s with someone else. The same girl,” you swallow, eyes drifting shut.

Jungkook stiffens, lip tucked between his teeth, “I have a good mind of…”

“Jungkook, don’t do that,” you plead, words blurring together, gripping his arm, “it’s my fault.”

“How is it your fault?! He’s fucking cheating on you!”

“But I’m still with him!”

“Why?!”

“Because I love him!” You cry, “and I know he loves me too…”

Jungkook shakes his head, gathering you in his arms, “shush. Don’t cry.”

The smell of alcohol lingers around you and it strikes him that you’re not in the right state of mind to talk about this.

“We broke up,” you mumble into his shirt.

“That’s good.”

“But it hurts,” you blubber, tucking further into his arms.

You feel delicate, fragile, wilted in his hands. He wants nothing more than to hurt that fucker as much as you’re hurting. But for now, he lets you rest in his bed while he spends all night ruminating in the lounge. He needs to tell you that you don’t need that ass of a man. He would wait months, years until your petals revive, redecorating his life with your color to tell you how he feels. But he’s thinking selfishly, he needs to think about you, your feelings.

“Good morning. I have ce—”

Jungkook’s mouth hangs open, words getting caught in his throat when he sees you wearing his hoodie, messy hair up in a bun.

“Sorry,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms as you prop yourself up on the stool, “was feeling cold. Hope you don’t mind.”

He shakes his head. I love seeing you in my clothes.

“It’s okay. Do you want cereal or I can make you some eggs or…what do you have for breakfast?”

“Cereal is fine.”

He takes out a pastel blue bowl from the cupboard and pushes it in your direction, “how did you sleep?”

“Slept okay, have a terrible headache right now,” you shrug, dousing the crunchy bits in milk, “I can’t remember how or when I fell off to sleep.”

Your lids are puffy, cheeks the same, lips red and swollen, like you’ve been chewing on them all night.

He sighs, “sorry you have to go through this.”

You laugh, spoon swirling around in the liquid, “you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But you—”

“Can we talk about something else,” you level him with a teary stare, “please.”

His spoon halts midway to his mouth, “okay.”

But you don’t say anything for the rest of the morning and neither does he. He’s unable to get past last night. You’re still the same. Not like he expected you to get over your ex overnight. You still have that slump to your shoulders, lips in a perpetual frown, eyes vacant yet running with emotions.

He lets you go wearing his hoodie, without pushing you to tell him that you’ll be fine. It breaks his heart that yours is scattered and that’s how he knows that he loves you, when your pain becomes his.

Maybe Jungkook should’ve pestered you to talk to him about it, to tell him how you feel about your boyfriend when you were sober. For a second, he thinks that his eyes are deceiving him, that his mind is playing tricks on him but the cars zooming past, customers filing into the bar with a greeting, azure sky fading into orange then dimming into dark blue, he knows that you, very real, very sober, across the street, are talking to your boyfriend before kissing him then stepping into his black Hyundai.

Something he always did was give people the benefit of the doubt.

There’s nothing he can do except watch, from afar, a bystander caught in your whirlwind, and you don’t even know it.

He doesn’t blame you.

But he’s furious, your boyfriend cheated on you, you’re taking him back, working things out. How do you forgive that? How can you forgive someone who you trusted with your heart, who chose to abuse such a treasure?

“Because I love him and I know he loves me too.”

Jungkook’s fists clench and unclench around the mic, eyes to the front of the bar where he first saw you. He has no one to blame but himself, for befriending you and tricking himself into thinking that it meant nothing more than that. A stupid, fucking friendship.

He pours his hurt into his songs. Venom in his words.

By the end of the night, walking up the stairs defeatedly, his throat hurts as much as the enervated muscle beating in his chest.

His back is pressed against the door when he hears shuffling on the other side and the acrimony forces his body into yanking the door open to see you sauntering through the hall. Vivacious, cherry red.

“Hey,” he calls, leaning against the wall.

You place your hand on your chest, “fuck! You scared me.”

He blinks.

“I saw you with him today.”

You nod, sucking your lower lip into your mouth, “yeah, we worked things out.”

He folds his arms, cocking his head to the side, “worked things out as in…you forgave him for cheating on you?”

You shift uncomfortably before narrowing your eyes at him.

“I told you it’s complicated. Are you judging me right now?”

Not judging. Wanting you to realize that it was a fucking dumb decision.

“I’m no one to judge. It’s your life.”

Jungkook feels like the walls are closing in with the hostility you direct at him, already stepping into your apartment.

“Exactly, and as a friend you’re supposed to be there to support me.”

I’m also supposed to be there to tell you that you should never go back to someone who cheats on you multiple times.

You poke your head out the door, “night Jungkook.”

“Good night.”

You can make a mistake once, but after that it becomes a choice, a decision. Jungkook doesn’t know your boyfriend, but he knows you and from what you said a few moments ago. You are fickle.

Jungkook doesn’t see you for weeks, and he does miss you. He thinks that he might’ve driven you away, but he doesn’t feel disheartened. He’ll stand by what he believes in and even if he didn’t have a shitload of feelings for you, it would’ve gone the same way.

He’s accustomed to walking Bam alone nowadays, so when you bump into his shoulder, obviously on your way to the library, he can’t hide his surprise.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he responds with a shrug, walking with your step.

“How have you been?”

He shoves his left hand in his jacket pocket, shivering from the cold, “been good. You?”

“Good,” you reply, petting Bam’s head, “missed this guy.”

What about me?

You laugh, glancing at him, “I missed you too.”

Jungkook didn’t realize that he said that out loud. He blushes.

“Where were you?”

You take a seat on the bench while Bam frolics through the wet grass, chasing after a pigeon.

“I had a mini-vacation with my boyfriend and his family.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

You nod, staring into the distance, “yeah, the Kim’s are fun company.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey,” you spin around to face him, patting his thigh, “sorry for snapping at you that day. I feel bad.”

“It’s okay,” he snorts, ignoring the way his stomach twists when you keep your hand on his leg.

The tip of your nose is red, cheeks pink, eyes glowing in a way that has all Jungkook’s feelings returning, similar to an avalanche, rapid and destructive.

“Wanna watch a movie tonight? I’ll bring nachos,” you wiggle your brows.

He smiles, “sure.”

As if he could say no to you.

If you were just a friend, sitting on his couch, thighs touching his, cuddling under a blanket, it won’t bother him even the slightest bit that you keep looking at your phone screen to check your notifications. Usually, you’d be engrossed in the movie, chowing down whatever food you have. But tonight, you don’t even touch the nachos despite the mouth-watering fragrance.

“You okay?”

You lock your phone and place it on the armrest, “yeah.”

But he can tell that you’re far from okay. Something’s on your mind and it’s bothering him.

He’s about to ask but the sound of your ringtone cuts him off. You toss the blanket aside and jump off the couch, disappearing into the kitchen to answer the call.

Jungkook isn’t one for eavesdropping, but he finds himself turning down the volume on the TV and straining his ears.

It sounds like you’re arguing with someone. And then he hears it, the crack in your voice when you say ‘no.’

He chews on his nail before deciding to pop into the kitchen, hand on the doorframe as he watches you pace from one end to the other, corners of your mouth sagging down, eyebrows furrowed. You turn around and spot him, fluorescent lighting hitting the glaze in your eyes.

‘What’s going on?’ He mouths, receiving a slight headshake as an answer, but the look in your eyes tells him all he needs to know. His fingers drum against the wood, impatiently, waiting for the call to end.

“I don’t…want to talk to him. There’s nothing to say.”

He hears the muffled voice of a male on the other end.

“No. You tell him I said that,” you whisper, running your fingers through your hair. “Okay?”

You end the call with an aggressive press to the red icon, tossing the device on the table.

He approaches you slowly, nudging you with his shoulder. Your eyes are on the sink, blazing with emotion. Sadness and worry. Stem bending, petals squashed and dim.

“What happened?”

You open your mouth to answer but a puff of air leaves your lips.

Taking a step around you, he places both his hands on your shoulders, dipping his head to peer into your eyes, whispering your name, “tell me.”

“That was Jimin on the phone, you know, the guy from the parlor,” your voice wobbles, eyes lifting to his.

“Yeah. What did he say?”

“You were right,” you say dejectedly.

“Right about what?”

“Right for judging me.”

His head snaps back, “judging you? I wasn’t judging you.”

You push his hands away and walk to the lounge, huffing down on the couch, head in your hands.

He rushes to your side, thumb rubbing your shoulder.

“I made the same mistake again. And he says he made a mistake too. But I’m the biggest idiot for believing him.”

Jungkook inhales deeply, clicking his tongue.

“People make mistakes all the time. But sometimes, we use that as an excuse for the shitty things we do.”

Obviously, your boyfriend cheated on you again. That’s what he assumes. And he finds himself comforting you like the last time, using the last few bars of his heart for remorse.

You comb your hair back, nose clogged as you speak, “I’m done making that mistake.”

“It’s difficult to move past someone who you’ve shared so many good memories with. But that’s all it is. Memories attached to a person who changed over time, just as you have.”

You turn to him, red vessels branching in your eyes, “did you go through the same thing?”

“Mhm,” he nods, soaking in the warmth from your body, “in college. But I was dumb back then. If I listened to my friends I could’ve avoided getting hurt.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Feels like ages ago.”

“Hey,” you sniffle, poking his chest, “you didn’t tell me what happened with Lira. Are you guys together now?”

He shakes his head, “I…told her we should stay friends, but we still meet up. I’m helping her out with her website.”

“Why? You guys looked so sweet together.”

He chuckles, creating a bit of distance between your bodies, “yeah…it just didn’t click for me.”

“I feel terrible for loading off my troubles onto you,” you mumble, eyes on your lap.

“It’s okay. That’s what friends are for, right?”

He holds up the remote, “wanna continue or do you not feel like it?”

“No,” you fold up your legs, “let’s watch. Need to take my mind off things.”

Things as in your bastard of a boyfriend who takes you for granted. Who toys with your heart and treats you like shit. Who takes advantage of your forgiving nature. He hopes that you meant it when you said you’re not going to repeat your mistake because anyone can see that you’re giving up. And he doesn’t want you to give up on love entirely.

“Mmm,” Jungkook scans the tracks on Seojun’s laptop screen, “let’s change it up today since there’s no requests.”

The stout man nods, adjusting his posture on the chair before clicking the play button. The sound of a piano filters through the speakers and Jungkook takes a breath, mouth hovering over the mic when his eyes flicker up. The instrumental continues to play until he holds up a hand and Seojun fizzes out the sound. The crowd, confused by his abrupt stop creates a loud hum in the air just as you wave. Wearing a pastel yellow dress.

He smiles, Adam’s apple bobbing with nerves. This would be the first time you’re hearing him sing and he wasn’t expecting you tonight.

Rushing toward Seojun again, he scrolls down the track list before clicking on an untouched song.

Immediately, the din dies down once the sound picks up again, the beautiful pattern of symphonies dancing in the air.

Without breaking the connection between your eyes, he begins, heart thrumming in his ears.

Why do all these tears just keep overflowing like this Hey, stay by my side and laugh

A future without you would be a world without color monochrome and cold

Even the darkness you’re gazing into is so beautiful I want you to put your faith in me I’m looking straight ahead only at you So you don’t go anywhere

You move closer toward the stage, giggling when you take in how enraptured the audience is by him.

“Nice to see you here,” he bends down to whisper., moving the mic away.

“I was curious,” you smile, bright and effervescent, a stark contrast to the one from a few nights ago, “you have a beautiful voice.”

He returns to the center of the stage, cheeks heating. He performed in front of five hundred people once, but he’s never felt this nervous in his entire life.

Even if this might turn out to be the beginning of the end I’ll call your name

The look in your eyes gazing at me is so colorful I devote my everything to you It won’t come true, I hold a wish in my heart While being unable to put it into words

The corners of your mouth fall slightly, an indecipherable emotion written across your face, one he hasn’t seen before. But he holds your gaze, the words sang from his heart.

I want to be loved And so you can love I’ll become your eyes On this journey ahead

Even the darkness you’re gazing into is so beautiful I want you to put your faith in me I’m looking straight ahead only at you So you don’t go anywhere

This look in your eyes watching over me is so colorful You told me Someday, this sadness will keep on spinning our threads together

He attempts to swallow the lump forming in his throat, worsening when he sees your eyes brimming with tears, hand placed over your mouth.

Your eyes, they tell

The crowd applauds, while you seem to be broken out of your reverie, palms pressing together softly. He jumps down to stand in front of you.

“You okay? Is something up?”

You shake your head, shoving his shoulder lightly, “your voice brought tears to my eyes, you should be proud.”

He chuckles, staring at your shoes coyly, “you look pretty.”

“Thanks,” you pat your dress, head tilting to the side. He notices that you aren’t wearing your locket.

He thrusts his thumb in the direction of the stage, hands still trembling, “I finish in half an hour. You can order whatever you want, I’ll tell Seokjin to put it on my tab.”

You laugh, lip gloss glistening in the golden light. He clears his throat, averting his gaze to your eyes. Friends. You’re just friends.

“I’ll wait for you here,” you wink. He makes his way up on the stage, cock stirring in his cargo pants.

He chooses a more upbeat song next, loving the way you join in with the crowd, dancing and twirling around in your pretty dress. Again, Jungkook muses, he’s doing it again. Contradicting himself. But how can he not look at you when you’re a sunflower among the reeds, poking out for him to admire. Sometimes, he wonders what it would’ve been like if he met you years ago, before you met your boyfriend, before he graduated college. Nothing else matters. All he knows is that he would’ve loved you unconditionally, treated you like a queen. Given you what you deserve.

Who’s to say he can’t do all that now?

When he’s older, wiser, successful.

He needs to tell you how he feels. After ensuring that you can take your time, that you don’t need to reciprocate his feelings now. He has all these feelings for you, growing each day, threatening to burst out of him. And he wants to love you. Shower you in his affections.

“I’ll lock up today,” he informs Seokjin who cocks an eyebrow.

“Why?”

He gestures to you, sitting at the circular table. The last customer.

“Please. The health inspector will be coming in on Monday and I can’t hav—”

Jungkook places his hands on Seokjin’s shoulders, guiding him out the door, “we aren’t gonna do anything here or anywhere. We’re just friends, remember?”

“Yeah, but she’s single and I don’t trust you.”

Jungkook groans, “you’ve known me for ten years now. Am I not reliable?”

Seokjin unlocks his car and steps in, squinting his eyes at Jungkook as he drives away.

He strolls back inside the door, a grin creeping onto his face when he sees you standing at the center of the bar, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s so nice in here.”

He shuts the doors, “did you have fun tonight?”

“Surprisingly…yes I did,” you snort, jutting out your hip, “wish I had one dance with you though.”

He extends his hand dramatically, “want to dance?”

“There’s no music.”

He fakes a gasp, “we don’t need music to dance.”

You smirk, taking his hand in yours while he reels you in, placing his other hand on your waist experimentally. Your fingers curl around his shoulders, giggling when you stare up at him. He waltzes to the side, swishing from one end to the others while your eyes remain permanently crinkled, head thrown back with laughter as you sashay around the tables.

He steps into your space while your foot slides back, falling into pace with one other until you’re both panting, voices echoing. With one dramatic twist of your hand, he places his palm on your back and lowers you to the floor, chest heaving.

With stars in your eyes, you study every inch of his face, lips parted.

He leans in further, hair tickling your face until his lips touch your neck. You gasp and he draws back, pulling you up.

“Sorry,” he grumbles, heart beating erratically when you catch his arm.

Like he did earlier, you reel him in, standing on the tips of your toes to place your hand on his neck, fixing your eyes on his.

“I’m not,” you say lowly into his hear, sending a wave of goosebumps from that spot all the way to his feet.

His eyebrows furrow in question.

You say nothing, eyes falling shut when you slot your lips over his, like two velvety petals, caressing his own mouth, motionless against you. He grabs your waist roughly, the force making you whimper slightly as his tongue slides across your lower lip, seeking entrance, befuddled by your sweet lips, so delicate in his hold.

He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, hand skimming up your back to pull you closer, chest pressed to his, suckling your lips into his mouth. His heart pumps irregularly, blood rushing to his dick when your fingers tickle the skin above the hem of his pants.

Pulling away with a lewd pop, he keeps you close to him, examining your face. Your pupils are blown out, lips pink and glossy with his saliva, eyelashes casting a shadow on your cheeks.

He hooks an arm under your legs and carries you up to his apartment. Wordlessly kicking the door open and setting you down on his sheets. The orange glow, from the first night he spent lazing around with you, illuminates your figure. Bewitched by the sight, he kisses your shoulder, nimble fingers pulling down the strap of your dress.

“I want you,” he growls, repeating the action on the other side, until the fabric hangs loosely on your frame.

“I want you too,” you purr, pulling off his shirt then pushing him down onto the bed, kissing up his stomach and chest.

He places a hand on the back of your head, cock straining in his underwear, hissing when you lick around his nipples.

You unbutton his pants and pull them down his legs, while he pulls the cups of your bra under your boobs, throat going dry when he notices your perky nipples.

“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps, thumb circling your bud, relishing in the way you shiver under his touch.

A loud groan breaks from his chest when you tug off his underwear, precum spilling from the tip when he catches sight of you settling between his legs. His hips lift from the bed when you place your index finger on the slit, splitting it with your nail then gripping the base loosely. His eyes bulge out when a string of spittle falls from your lips to land on his cock, fist tightening around his length with languid strokes.

He could cum in your hand from your gaze alone, so sexy and heated. Moving gracefully between his legs, twisting your hand with each upstroke, thumb nudging his frenulum.

“Fuck.”

His fingers travel into your hair, pushing your mouth toward his length when your warm breath drifts over his throbbing cock, begging for more.

“Want my mouth?”

“Fuck,” his eyes slip shut, abdomen jumping when your other hand fondles his balls, tugging and massaging the skin, “yes. Want your mouth.”

His veins pulsate when you spit on his cock again, whimpering your name when you cover his cock with you hot mouth, suckling around the tip. Fingers twisting in the sheets, he grips your hair harder, pushing you down further. His breath stumbles out of his lungs when you take him into your mouth, the tip brushing your tight throat. His head snaps up when he hears you gag.

“Okay?”

You nod, chest puffing out, “yeah.”

With a devilish grin, you sink back down on his length, sweaty palms pressed to his thighs as you bob your head up and down his cock, taking him all the way back, spit and precum drizzling down his length, smearing across your chin and cheeks. Your tongue drags along his veins, pushing him to the roof of your mouth.

He pants out your name when you swallow around him, sitting up on his elbows to watch the way tears track down your cheeks, mascara trailing with it.

“Fuck, so fucking hot. Gonna cum,” he bites out, hips snapping into your mouth, fucking your throat until he feels himself stumble close to the edge, lost in the euphoria, eyes scrunching shut. Your tongue curls around his shaft as you hollow out your cheeks, nails dragging up his thighs.

He cums with a loud moan, spilling down your throat, watching in awe as you gulp down each drop.

“Yes, baby,” he gasps, twitching when your lips suction around the tip, swallowing every last bit.

He lifts you up by your hair, kissing you fervently, tongue swirling around yours, tasting himself of your lips. You moan, reaching behind you to unzip you dress, yelping when he pushes you down on the bed and yanks you to the edge by your ankles.

With a deep breath, his eyes roll to the back of his head, your sweet scent rushing through his nostrils.

He grins up at you, placing your feet flush to the bed and pushing them up, nosing through your clothed folds.

“Jungkook,” you hiss, fingers tweaking your nipples when he nips at the skin of your inner thigh, so soft.

He pinches your clit through the material, swollen and ready for him. He pulls the tedious fabric off your legs, salivating at your glistening, puffy folds.

Mewling under him, you thread your fingers through his air, pussy clenching uncontrollably when he blows on your cunt, watching how more of your arousal leaks out. All for him.

He teases your clit with light licks across the sensitive skin, hearing you whine and plead for more.

“What?”

You jolt when he rears his hand back and slaps your clit, a cry of his name cutting through the heavy air.

“Please,” you breathe, hips springing up when he does it again and again, your essence staining his fingers, “need your mouth.”

“Wanna cum on my tongue?”

You nod, “mhm, pleas—oh.”

He flattens out his tongue and licks a broad stripe up your folds, your heady taste driving him insane.

With a deep breath, he slurps up every bit, keeping his tongue firm against your clit, pursing his lips around the bud, moving his face from side to side, drawing breathless moans from your lips. He circles your hole with his middle and ring finger, teeth snagging on your bundle of nerves.

Your back arches, hands cupping your mounds as you rock against his face, chasing your high shamelessly. He could keep his mouth on your cunt all day, bury his tongue inside you until you’re a blabbering mess. He wants to fuck you. Wants you to cum on his cock, wants to feel you gasp against his lips, toppling off the edge of bliss together.

He drives his fingers inside you, moaning into your pussy and hooking his fingers, finding that spongy spot with ease.

“Jungkook. Fuck,” you’re shrieking, chest heaving, mouth hanging open when he doubles his efforts.

His tongue flicks against your clit at breakneck speed, fingers buried in your walls past the second knuckle, rubbing and coaxing you to the edge with deliberate drags of his fingers. With a sharp suckle to your clit, you coat his tongue and fingers with your slick, gyrating into his face, thighs closing around him.

He presses a kiss to your clit, feeling you spasm under his touch as he pulls his fingers out.

Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he makes sure you see him pop his dripping fingers into his mouth, humming at the taste.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, ravenous with your touches, kissing and biting every inch of his skin. His cock stands proud against his abs, digging into your stomach when you fall on top of him, pulling his lip ring between your teeth.

A thin sheen of sweat coats your breasts, mixing with his. He pushes your hair back, taking your chin between his fingers to pull you in for another kiss, slow and passionate.

He would think that this is just another wild dream, but the way you’re grinding your pussy against his cock tells him that you’re really here, peppering kisses across his chest, bruising the skin with your teeth and tongue.

“Condom?”

This is real. It’s happening.

He points to his nightstand, hands returning to your sides, caressing your skin.

“Can’t believe you’re here like this,” he laughs, guiding your hips against his length, listening to your sweet moans.

He takes the condom from you and rolls it down his length, sucking in a sharp breath when you spin around and rub your ass on it before reaching between your legs and guiding him to your sopping cunt.

His hands fly to your thighs, chest pressing into your back as you take him to the hilt.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he susurrates, fully sheathed by your warm walls.

He presses a kiss to the side of your face as you lift your hips and slam back down on his lap, the sound echoing in the small space. Reaching around you to grab your boobs, he moves his hips in tandem with yours, ridged walls massaging his length in hot waves of pleasure.

“Jungkook,” you moan, pulling his head forward to catch his lips in a breathless kiss, bouncing on his cock, walls fluttering around him when he twists and pinches your nipples.

“You look so sexy bouncing on my cock like this,” he rasps, moaning into your mouth when your walls convulse around him.

He pushes you forward, cock slipping out of you momentarily when he pulls your back to an arch, setting you on your hands and knees.

Moaning unabashedly, you push your hips back when he slides his fingers through your hair and drills his cock into you, hips flexing against your ass. Rippling with the motion.

His head lolls back, cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy, fingers digging into your ass before landing two harsh smacks on each cheek. You press your face into the sheets, screams muffled by the material as he picks up the pace, splitting you open on his thick cock.

With a tremble, he feels your walls quiver around him, buried deep inside you, unable to stave off his orgasm any longer with you fucking back onto him, crying out his name. Guttural moans punctuate each snap of his hips into yours, emptying into the condom in long spurts.

He pulls out to see a huge wet patch on his sheets, your legs giving out as you collapse on the bed with a sigh.

Waddling to the bathroom, he disposes of the condom and wets a beige rag with warm water to clean you up carefully, wiping down your folds.

You’re watching him with wide eyes.

He pouts, “what?”

“…Nothing. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiles, tossing the rag in the pile of clothes and settling behind you.

He hums, pressing his nose into your hair, “this was nice.”

You’re dragging your nails across his arm, “yeah.”

It must be around 2AM and by now, he’s drained. But his heart remains wide awake. Beating with hope. Hope that you might see him the way that he sees you. That you just shared your body him. He smiles to himself, tightening his hold around you then pecking your nape.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Again, he would’ve thought it was a dream if there wasn’t a stain on his sheets and black marks all over his pillow. Your mascara.

He smiles after recalling the events from last night. He didn’t think that things would go the way they did. At least not anytime soon. He wants to have your lips on his again, he’ll never get bored of the way you taste. A part of him wishes you would’ve stayed for breakfast, but he knows that you have work. He checks the calendar on his phone.

It’s a Sunday.

Shrugging, he thinks that you might’ve wanted to shower so he prepares breakfast for the two of you and knocks on your door, bouncing off the floor with excitement.

His smile gets slapped off his face when he meets the bored eyes of your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

“Hey,” he mumbles, looking Jungkook up and down, “can I help you?”

He’s the same height as Jungkook but leaner. Brown hair, tanned skin.

“Yeah. Where’s—” He tries to peek around his pointy shoulders.

“She’s in the shower. You’re her neighbor?”

Jungkook purses his lips, calming his anger with deep breaths, “yes.”

“Oh,” he leans on the doorframe, folding his arms, “can I take a message then?”

“Would you tell her I made pancakes, if she wants any she can stop by.”

His mouth quirks to the side, “I’ll tell her that.”

With one last discerning stare, Jungkook turns on his heel and marches to his apartment, door slamming shut behind him.

It’s not like your ex visited because he wanted to get back together or anything. But even if he did, you’re not stupid to take him back. You said you won’t make the same mistake again. Jungkook’s head feels like it’s about to explode. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Everything annoys him. The hum from the refrigerator, the churning rumble from the washing machine, the AC whirring, the birds chipping outside, the cars honking down below, his fucking neighbor who’s fucking with him. The woman he fell in love with. What a big fucking mistake he made. But he’s jumping to conclusions. He’ll just wait for you to come by later. Which you will. Of course.

By the evening, after stalling all day, the sheets still clumped up in the washer, dishes piled in the sink, documents scattered on the carpet, he hears a knock on his front door. But by then, he’s already over it. Over your cries and worthless apologies when the only person you should be apologizing to is yourself.

“Hey,” you brush past him, greeting Bam with some scratches.

He rubs the back of his head, spreading his legs as he takes the space next to you on the couch.

“So.”

“So?” You laugh, avoiding his eyes.

“So, you’re back together with him?”

Jungkook lets out a mirthless laugh. A major part of him wouldn’t believe it but your silence is enough of an answer.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” he mumbles, leaning back on the couch and staring at the screen. Cartoons he put on for Bam.

He sees your head snap to him from his periphery, “what do you mean ‘you can’t fucking believe it’?”

He shrugs, head held up by his fist, “I mean I can’t fucking believe you went back to him after all we talked about, after he fucking cheated on you, left you on the fucking street after a fucking argument and then you—”

“After we fucked. That’s what you wanted to say. Just say it.”

His heart twists, bile rising in his throat when he turns his head to look at you. Your face remains blank.

“That’s not—”

You chuckle bitterly, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. He’s more afraid than angry. Afraid? He doesn’t know why.

“You think I’m fucking stupid.”

He sets his jaw, shaking his head, “we were friends.”

“Yes,” you nod, “we were friends. But the first chance you had to fuck me. You took it.”

His eyes narrow, hoping that his face isn’t showing all the emotions bubbling through him, strangling him, eating him up from the inside.

“You said you wanted me too. I didn’t force you to fuck me.”

“And I did. I did want you. But I’m not sure what you thought it was.”

“I…” I have feelings for you. I let you in. I love you.

“You thought it was something special. It was just two friends fucking.”

Jungkook wants you out of his home. He doesn’t want to see you. Doesn’t want to look at you. Doesn’t want to believe the words coming out of your mouth with so much hate.

You touch his arm, but he shrugs you off, staring out the window so you don’t see the emotions that must be painted on his face.

“If I knew…I’m sorry.”

“If you knew what? That I fucking had feelings for you? If it wasn’t fucking obvious.”

“How was it obvious? You doing me favors?”

“Just go,” he breathes, as hard as it is for him to say.

You rise from the couch, “like you said before, it’s my life. You have no right to judge me.”

“Well, you’re fucking stupid. For giving someone the chance to treat you like shit again and when he cheats on you again. Which he will. Don’t come crying to me. Because I won’t be there for a sympathy fuck.”

“You’re such an entitled piece of shit. You know that? Learn the difference between love and lust,” you sniffle.

With that, you stomp to the door and slam it shut while Jungkook presses his face into his hands.

In his twenty-four years, living in this pathetic world, he has never ever felt this way before. His chest aches, head swung back, staring at the ceiling blankly because he can’t comprehend what just happened. He’s fucking confused, if anything.

But he knows why he felt afraid, afraid in your presence. Terrified that he’ll never see you again, that he’ll lose you. Because having you around as a friend and nothing else was worth a lot more to him. But he fucked it up. He fucked it up? Was the sex some kind of trap? Love and lust. Learn the difference between love and lust. Love what he was feeling. Lust. You.

Bam whines, hopping up on the couch next to him and when he lifts his head, tucking his pup under his arm, a tear slides down his cheek.

Despite being alone, he’s embarrassed. He wipes it away furiously. Disgusted by himself. For crying over someone he should’ve stayed away from. For being so blind and childish. For lacking emotional intelligence. All he can do is go to bed and forget for a while. But what happens when sleep refuses to take him. He turns to alcohol.

“Want me to kick her out?”

Jungkook laughs, patting Seokjin on his back.

“Don’t stand out here too long. You could catch a cold,” Seokjin warns, disappearing into the warmth of the bar.

After kicking around a few pebbles, he lifts his head and chances a glance at you across the street. You’re staring straight at him, eyebrows furrowed, tugging the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands.

He’s staring at you, hands in his pockets, shoulders up to his ears because you know he’s cold. Why didn’t he wear a jacket if he hates the cold so much? To top that off, he has his sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoos, hair up in a bun, a few loose ends sticking out, like always. It makes the corner of your mouth jump slightly. But he can’t see it. Because he’s too far away.

You’re too far away. You’re a walking paradox. Choosing to hide your feelings but bleeding on others because you’ll never recover. Choosing to stick with what you know because what you don’t is too risky. Choosing to pretend as if you don’t care when you do. More than he could ever know. You love him. You don’t. Don’t know. You never gave yourself the chance to fully appreciate him, to fall into him, to accept him into your heart. He’s sweet, handsome, funny and caring. He won’t hurt a fly, but you hurt him.

He’s too good for you. Eventually, he would realize that you’re not worth it. That you deserve someone like the man you keep running back to. That he deserves a woman with a full heart, enough love to give, to share. For you and him. But you barely have enough for yourself.

Heart anaesthetized, but the dull ache is still there. His face, a reminder that you’re incapable of giving him what he deserves. The emptiness remains like a heavy weight in your heart.

Jungkook realizes that he’s never seen the inside of your home. Doesn’t know where you’re from or your surname. If you have one. He doesn’t know the minor yet key details about you. There’s so many he can think of. It only hurts him more. Heart pulverised into mush. And you’re staring at him. Aware of his existence. He wonders if you feel even a sliver of guilt. If you somehow regret what you did. But that’s his own pity talking.

You’re standing there. A colorless rose. Petals threatening to fall one by one until you’re nothing but your thorns. The thorns he failed to avoid, now lodged deep in his heart. He’s tired of the war within himself. Tired of dreaming about the perfect rose.

He sees your hand lift in a wave, smiling at him.

But he doesn’t return it. He scuffs his shoes on the pavement and spins around to step inside the bar. Ignoring you.

a/n — if you liked this, please consider dropping a comment or an ask if you’re shy, it would mean a lot to me.

⤺Masterlist

taglist — @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon @nglmrk @bex-92br @taeslarityy @helenazbmrskai @deliciouslydisturbed365 @sweetonkookieandtae

[aspoonofsugar]

Jaune: Zero to Hero

Pyrrha: It's not about why; it's about knowing. Understanding dark and light helps us manifest our Aura. Everyone has some of both.

Knowledge, Creation and Destruction all lead up to Aura. This is just another way to say that they lead up to individuality, which is something Grimms lack:

Pyrrha: They are creatures of Grimm, the manifestation of anonymity.

Individuality is conveyed through Choice. This is why Choice is the most important and final gift. It is symbolic of self-actualization, which is what our characters are pursuing in their coming of age story.

Jaune’s personal arc comments the group’s collective journey and marks each stage very clearly.

In which way does it happen? And what do these stages mean for Jaune’s growth as an individual?

THE IGNORANT WARRIOR

Pyrrha: Jaune, do you... know what Aura is?

Jaune: Psch! Of course I do! Do you know what Aura is?

Jaune is introduced as inexperienced and ignorant. He lacks combat experience and knows nothing about key concepts like Aura, Landing Strategy or Semblances.

His journey starts because Pyrrha shares her knowledge with him:

She awakens his aura, his very soul and later on trains him, so she helps his body get stronger:

In other words, Pyrrha is the one who puts Jaune on the right path to become a true “hero” and a “warrior”.

This is Jaune’s objective since the beginning, but he initially pursues it in the wrong way:

Jaune: I don't want help! I don't want to be the damsel in distress! I want to be the hero!

He is fixated on an idea of hero which is outdated and has its root in toxic masculinity:

Jaune: Cause this is always what I've wanted to be! My father, my grandfather, and his father before him were all warriors! They were all heroes! I wanted to be one, too. I was just never good enough.

This is why symbolically Jaune wants to be like his male ancestors. He wants to grow into “a real man”:

Cardin: Let's see how much of a man you really are...

And this is conveyed also through his Weapon:

Jaune: It's a hand-me-down. My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war.

Jaune did not forge his own Weapon, but he inherited it. Crocea Mors initially represents the legacy he wants to live up to. However, this legacy, instead of driving him, slows him down because he can’t grow until he remains in his ancestors’ shadow. Jaune needs to develop his own individuality instead.

In order to do so, he needs to grow not only as a figther, but as a person too.

As a matter of fact, Jaune’s ignorance is not only limited to the world he has stepped into, but also to the people around him:

Jaune: That's easy for you to say. You've probably got guys clamoring over each other just to ask you out.

Pyrrha: You'd be surprised.

He is so self-focused that he does not notice others’ feelings and hurts them unintentionally.

However, Pyrrha teaches him once again:

Pyrrha:Tell her exactly what you said. No ridiculous schemes, no pick-up lines. Just... be honest.

 It is thanks to her that Jaune manages to become a better man:

He is even able to call Neptune out the way Pyrrha did with him:

Jaune: Then just go talk to her. No pickup lines, no suave moves, just be yourself. I've heard that's the way to go.

And as a result, even Jaune’s relationship with Weiss gets better:

Weiss: You said you were embarrassed at first. What made you come talk to me?

Neptune: You're looking at him.  You got some good friends looking out for ya.

Because the girl realizes Jaune is not only after her money or her romantic attention:

Weiss: All my life, boys have only cared about the perks of my last name.

But wants to genuinely be a good friend to her.

In short, Jaune starts the story as immature both as a fighter and as a person to the point that he is considered unfit and annoying by other characters:

Glynda: I don't care what his transcripts say. That Jaune fellow is not ready for this level of combat.

However, thanks to Pyrrha, he is given the chance to mature.

Not only that, but while other characters see a weakness and a nuisance in Jaune’s ignorance and inexperience, Pyrrha sees it as a possibility:

Weiss: Jaune, is it? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?

Jaune: Not in the slightest, snow angel.

Weiss: This is Pyrrha.

It is specifically because Jaune is new to Pyrrha’s world that he is free from bias:

Pyrrha:  That's what I like about you. When we met, you didn't even know my name. You treated me just like anyone else. And thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime. I guess, you're the kind of guy I wish I was here with. Someone who just saw me for me.

This is why Pyrrha feels she can forge a genuine bond with Jaune. What is more, the girl has faith in his potential:

Pyrrha: It's all right. I used my Aura to unlock yours, but the energy that protects you now is your own. You have a lot of it.

She sees in him what others do not and helps him develop both as a man and as a warrior.

This is well highlighted by the metal motif the two characters share.

As @hamliet explains here Rwby has several characters linked to the seven metals of alchemy.

The goal of alchemy is to create gold thanks to a process of refiniment that purifies the metal and has it go through several transformations. 

The seven metals are nothing, but a scale that goes from the heaviest and most raw metal (lead) to the most purified (gold) passing through the others (tin, iron, copper, mercury, silver).

For a story, it simply means that a character goes through a process of change that leads to self-actualization.

In Rwby this idea is conveyed through specific characters embodying a metal (Ironwood, Penny, Mercury) or even thanks to metal motifs commenting a specific part of a character arc.

For example, Yang is associated with gold:

I am the golden one Who burns just like the sun

But Adam takes her arm away and has her regress in the scale of metals to iron. This regression is not simply physical, but psychological as well:

However, Yang re-affirms herself and moves forward. The first step of this process is to symbolically make her new arm “gold” again:

When it comes to Jaune, I think that he may be the character associated with lead aka the “prima materia” that needs to be molded into gold. Even if this is not true, metal is at least definately still a motif in his arc, as it is in Pyrrha’s. This is why both characters wear metal armors, differently from others.

Pyrrha is already close to her self-actualization and she reaches it in the climax of the Vale arc, where she completes her (tragic) arc and dies a Maiden.

This is why her armor is gold, while Jaune’s is white and gray. Pyrrha is at the top of the metal scale and close to the end of her journey, while Jaune is respectively at the very bottom and at the very beginning.

He is the embodyment of the prima materia that has potential for greatness, but only if he is rightly guided and if he himself works hard.

Pyrrha takes over herself the duty to help Jaune mold himself.

This is underlined also by Pyrrha’s semblance:

Pyrrha: Well, Ruby has her speed, you have your glyphs. My Semblance is polarity.

Pyrrha can control and bend metals and she shows her power for the first time when she helps Jaune against the Ursa, so that he can overcome his self-issues.

So, Jaune starts the story as the lead and is going through a path of self-refinement which will lead him to become gold, so more similar to Pyrrha herself.

Pyrrha offers him the basic knowledge to start this journey, but unluckily leaves him too soon and now Jaune has to move forward on his own.

THE CREATIVE AVENGER

Pyrrha: I want you to know that I'm just happy to be a part of your life. I'll always be here for you, Jaune.

Even after Pyrrha’s death, this stays true:

Blacksmith: That was some fine metal you brought me. Accents the white nicely. Where'd you get it from?

Pyrrha has become a part of Jaune.

This is a recurring motif in Rwby:

Penny: I won’t be gone, I’ll be part of you.

It is the idea that grieving is a process that leads to acceptance, but also to integration with a lost one. It is a way to have the deceased keep on living through the survivors.

In Jaune and Pyrrha’s case, this is conveyed through Pyrrha’s metal being used to enrich Jaune’s Weapon.

As stated by Ruby:

Ruby: Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Weapons are symbolic of the self, just like Semblances.

What is more, Weapons and Semblances are also a declination of the dychotomy of body and soul, presented by the series.

Weapons are wielded by bodies, while Semblances are a materialization of the soul.

In other words, Pyrrha’s gold becoming a part of Jaune’s Weapon is symbolic of Jaune’s first step in a painful process that will lead him to overcome his partner’s death and to inherit Pyrrha’s legacy.

Jaune must keep on learning from Pyrrha and become more like her. As noted by @hamliet​, this is symbolized also by Jaune’s design aquiring more golden details as he goes on in his journey:

Jaune: Guess I was going to grow out of it eventually.

Ren: A sign of progress.

Jaune: Progress.

That said, grieving is not easy and Jaune must struggle with much pain and negative feelings.

This is why the changes he makes to Crocea Mors are finalized to increase its attack power:

It is because Jaune feels anger over Pyrrha’s death and wants revenge.

In the Battle of Haven he gives in to his fury and tries to kill Cinder. He is trying to superficially imitate Pyrrha’s sacrifice:

Jaune: If I die buying them time, then it's worth it. They're the ones that matter.

However, he is not doing it out of bravery or necessity, but out of recklessness and self-hate. This is why his actions lead to this:

Once again, Jaune risks to lose another loved one:

Jaune: No, no, no, no, not again! Weiss, c'mon, please!!

However, this time he is able to save Weiss thanks to his Semblance:

Jaune: My Semblance?

Nora: How else do you think you're healing her, dummy?

Jaune gives up on using his Weapon to fight and chooses to use his Semblance to cure. He chooses soul over body and Creation over Destruction.

At the same time, Jaune’s activation of his Semblance is meaningful on two levels:

Jaune: No. I don't think I'm healing her. Our Aura heals our bodies. It feels... it feels more like I'm using my Aura to amplify hers!

Nora: Wait, aren't you worried about running out?

Jaune: Pyrrha once told me I've got a lot of it. I still believe her.

First of all, Jaune’s Semblance is rooted in the idea that people heal themselves. His power is not to cure others, but to amplify others’ auras, so that they can become stronger and can heal. It is about bringing out the best in others. It is a power fit for a leader, but also an ability symbolic of Jaune’s own process of healing. He can heal himself through helping others to heal.

Secondly, Jaune’s Semblance is in itself a nod to Pyrrha. Pyrrha used her own aura to awake his and Aura Amp is simply an evolution of this idea. It is not about activating others’ auras, but it is a power that lets Jaune share his. It also makes good use of something Pyrrha noticed immediately aka Jaune’s huge quantity of aura.

In other words, Jaune ends up acting like Pyrrha in the Battle of Haven, but not because he fights Cinder, but because he shares his gift with others, just like Pyrrha did with hers.

Pyrrha is a part of Jaune both in body (Crocea Mors) and soul (Aura Amp), but Jaune must still truly understand what this means.

He makes progress in Lost:

Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility... to try. I don't think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn't a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.

This is the essence of Pyrrha’s sacrifice. Jaune comes to understand it and chooses to make a similar choice together with his team:

Jaune: I think... I think she knew she wasn't going to win. That she might not come out alive. But... she also knew she was the only one that could try.

Ren: So she did.

Nora: Maybe we should too.

Jaune: Yeah, we should.

In this way, it will be as if Pyrrha were fighting together with them:

Nora: Pyrrha may not be by our side anymore, but we can fight like she is.

Jaune: And in a way... she will be.

Jaune tries to overcome his anger and his sadness for Pyrrha’s death in order to keep fighting like she did.

So, once again he chooses this:

Ruby: I wanted to protect my friends.

Maria: Precisely! It is the desire to preserve life which fuels the light inside you. And to make no mistake, it is light. Preservation is an extension of creation, or, at the very least, an enemy of destruction. The Creatures of Grimm were made by the God of Darkness, but your light comes from his brother.

He chooses to protect life and this is the essence of Creation.

Once he confirms this choice, he is free to explore Creation’s potential and he does so in the land of Creation itself, Atlas.

He strengthens his shield instead of his sword:

And he trains his Semblance:

Oscar: Nice, your recovery is getting faster.

This all leads him to become stronger psychologically:

Ren: Him on the other hand... There's no fear at all. I can see it, he believes we're going to get this done.

That said, Jaune starts meeting limits to his new found strength rooted in Creation:

Jaune: Ah, sorry. No matter how much I boost you, they won’t go away.

Jaune: Did... I stop the virus?

Penny: No. It’s still there.

Jaune’s way to move forward is to heal himself through healing others. Still, what to do when this is not possible?

THE DESTRUCTIVE HEALER

Penny: No… there’s not enough time to heal me…

Penny: But there is something you can do…

What happens in Atlas is an inversion of Haven.

Penny pushes Jaune’s Semblance away and touches Crocea Mors.

Jaune is asked to give up on healing her and to speed up her death instead. He is asked to choose his Weapon (body) over his Semblance (soul) and Destruction over Creation.

This marks the characters entering the Destruction phase:

Leaving Creation (Penny) behind.

For Jaune, this means that his own self image that he has worked so much to build and to make his own:

And that has been enriched in Anima thanks to Pyrrha...is shattered:

At the same time, he is once again put in a similar spot as Pyrrha:

They both become unwilling agents of Penny’s death because of Cinder (and Emerald and Mercury in the first case):

Pyrrha: Ruby, I... I'm so sorry.

Ruby: Me too. But it wasn't your fault.

Jaune: She's right. Whoever was on that microphone... they're the ones that did this. And we have to make sure they don't take anyone else.

So Jaune’s journey to integrate with Pyrrha, to understand her and her struggle continues.

What now?

It is too soon to say because we have yet to properly start our journey through Destruction and what it is about.

That said, there are two things that are worth highlighting. The first is a motif Rwby is following, while the second is a general theme found in many stories.

1) As @hamliet​ has stated in many metas and as I have written here, Rwby is an alchemical story. Alchemical stories are usually marked by three important deaths. Each death is symbolically linked to a color. They are usually black, white and red. However, sometimes there can be yellow instead of the white or the red. This is the case here, where a resonant death is the yellow death aka Penny’s.

It is a death that happens while the characters are surrounded by yellow:

And it happens through a weapon called “Yellow Death” (Crocea Mors’s meaning). So, it is really not subtle. Penny’s death is meant to mark an important passage for our protagonists, just like Pyrrha’s one (the black death).

2) It is common in stories that deal with healers to explore the concept of death as well.

The basic idea is that a healer is a person meant to cure. That said, they will meet people impossible to cure and that will die on their watch. This is an unescapable truth a true healer must live with.

Let’s highlight this theme is found in works very different for genre and culture.

Let’s have two examples.

Scrubs aka an American comedy about doctors deals with this theme multiple times. In many episodes the characters must simply accept they can’t save a life, but must still not lose hope and keep on living themselves.

Yosano from the manga BSD says so:

Her backstory explores the link bewteen life and death further since it is shown that a power that cures fatal wounds can be used to cheapen life itself:

It is too soon to say if Rwby will explore a similar theme, but the fact that Jaune, (the healer) is the one that has to speed up Penny’s death might be a very powerful and poignant choice. This is true especially because Rwby does not refuse Destruction (and so does not refuse death), but presents it as a principle equal to Creation (so as a part of life).

THE CHOOSING HERO

Jaune’s arc is about living Pyrrha’s death over and over again with different scenarios and outcomes. This happens so that in the end he can finally overcome it.

So far, it has happened three times and each time has been in the climax of an important battle.

The Battle of Beacon has him witness powerlessly to Pyrrha’s death (lack of knowledge and passivity).

The Battle of Haven has him saving Weiss (creation).

The Battle of Atlas has him killing Penny (destruction).

What is more, every time Jaune becomes more proactive and conscious of what he is doing.

In Beacon he has no idea of what is happening. He works with little information and things happen to him without him being able to do anything.

In Haven his actions lead to Weiss being in danger, but he manages to save her. That said, he does not do it consciously. He unlocks his Semblance because of emotional stress. It is an unconscious choice and not a conscious one.

In Atlas he makes a specific conscious choice, but it is a choice that is forced on him because of external circumstances. It is also a choice that is meant to challenge and temporally break him.

In other words, he is slowly and painfully approaching Choice aka self-actualization. Right now, he has to face the consequences of Penny’s death, but this will probably lead him to finally enter the Choice stage and to complete his arc by becoming a “hero” aka gold (probably).

At the same time, this final choice will also be about healing and overcoming grief. It will be the final integration with Pyrrha and him being able to honor her legacy.

After all, we have been told from the beginning what Pyrrha’s fate would have been. We’ve just failed to notice:

Pyrrha: For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.

June and Pyrrha’s bond is eternal and she is meant to be the key character in Jaune’s arc. It is only through confronting and finally overcoming her loss that Jaune can finally self actualize and become the person Pyrrha has always known he could be. Pyrrha will symbolically be with him in this struggle. Her memory will protect and inspire him. 

[latenightdecaf]

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him—even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x

[amaryllisblackthorn]

a lot of people have this idea that Annabeth's been like, a Luke apologist and in denial since the very beginning but it's not really true?. Annabeth was angry at Luke for his betrayal in the end of Lightning Thief and during Sea of Monsters. It's only until the end of The Titan's Curse that she starts the 'Luke really isn't that bad' kind of thing.

the end of Lightning Thief:

"I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned  angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him...He was never the same after his quest."

"When I get back next summer," she said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?"

 She was really angry at him during Sea of Monsters. Her vision from the Sirens does indicate that deep down she may believe she's able to save him, or at least wants to, but it doesn't diminish the hurt and anger she does feel.

"How could you?" Annabeth sounded so angry I thought she'd explode. "Thalia saved your life! Our lives! How could you dishonor her--"

"Liar!"

"I understand you want to destroy the camp!" she yelled. "You're a monster!"

"Because you have none of your own [intelligence]!"

"That's disgusting!" Annabeth said.

"You're insane," Annabeth said.

"Go to Tartarus," she said.

All those above are on the Princess Andromeda with Luke. Then later, to Percy:

She shook her head. "We made a dozen safe houses like this. I doubt Luke even remembers where they are. Or cares."

Even in the beginning-ish of Titan's Curse, she doesn't trust him. When he's struggling under the sky and asking for her help, she's hesitant. It's only when the sky begins to fall  that she goes to help hold it.

Annabeth had tears in her eyes. She reached down like she wanted to touch Luke's face, but at the last second she hesitated. "What happened?" she asked.

"Why should I trust you?" Annabeth asked. Her voice was filled with hurt.

Then the darkness above Luke began to crumble, like a cavern roof in an earthquake. Huge chunks of black rock began falling. Annabeth rushed in just as a crack appeared, and the whole ceiling dropped. She held it somehow--tons of rock. She kept it from collapsing on her and Luke with her own strength.

However!! There's a shift in her feelings by the time Percy and Thalia rescue her and I personally think it's because she's aware that Luke 'saved' her life for the time being after Atlas ordered him to kill her after Artemis took the sky -- even though he was super complicit in her being in that situation in the first place. Compare:

Luke hesitated. "She--she may yet be useful, sir. Further bait."

and

"We'll bring Luke back," Annabeth pleaded. "To Olympus. He...he'll be useful."

I don't think it's a conscious parallel on Annabeth's part per se, but Rick Riordan using the parallel to indicate the connection. I think that's when Annabeth discovers that Luke does still care deep down, and that deep down the person that she knows is there. which is fair, because before this point he hadn’t given her any indication seeing as he literally directed�� Oreius to eat her. that’s a whole ‘nother write-up, though, i think. i digress.

Once she knows this, she starts to view him as someone being manipulated and taken advantage of by Kronos, someone who was able to manipulate Ares, a god, in the first book, -- she's not wrong! He is being manipulated. That doesn't absolve him from his horrible behavior especially towards her, but she understands that Luke is a troubled, traumatized young man being taken advantage of by the evil King Titan, and she's also aware that literally no one else cares enough to try to save him.

like, the language Annabeth uses to describe Luke in the end of Titan’s Curse is the same that Percy uses to describe the demigods on the  Titans’ side in Last Olympian. 

"You don't believe me about Luke," Annabeth said, "but we'll see him again. He's in trouble, Percy. He's under Kronos's spell."

vs

I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren’t monsters. They were demigods who’d fallen under Kronos’s spell. I couldn’t see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had probably been my friends.

there’s another callback with the language Percy uses to describe the opposing demigods in Last Olympian. this time, to what Percy says to Luke at the end of Lightning Thief.

“He’s brainwashing you, Luke.”

“You’re being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don’t listen to Kronos.”

vs

This kid was getting brainwashed—trained to hate the gods and lash out because he’d been born half Olympian. Kronos was using him, and yet the kid thought I was his enemy.

Poseidon put his hand on my shoulder. “Percy, there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that ship, and they all chose to battle for Kronos. Perhaps some heeded your warning and escaped. If they did not . . . they chose their path.”

“They were brainwashed!” I said. “Now they’re dead and Kronos is still alive. That’s supposed to make me feel better?

Percy has sympathy for the demigods manipulated by Kronos to be on the Titan’s sides; he sees them as victims. the reason he doesn’t for Luke, I feel, is because Luke’s betrayal made it personal. I think this is where Percy’s fatal flaw comes into play, honestly, with the personal loyalty. both in regards to the personal betrayal to Percy, as well as Percy’s loyalty to Annabeth (and thus Luke’s betrayal of Annabeth, too). and i feel this also applies, to a lesser extent, to Ethan. but that’s a whole ‘nother write-up, too (one day!)

there is, admittedly, the factor of Luke’s age in comparison to Percy, Annabeth, and most of the other campers. there’s definitely a power imbalance -- especially with Annabeth, which isn’t okay, obviously.  so even though he’s a victim and young himself, that power imbalance in regards to his actions, manipulations, etc is messed up and not okay. 

even so, Luke is still pretty young himself -- not as young as the others, but still young. like, i got into this series when i was younger than Percy and Annabeth were, so Luke, like most early 20 year olds, seemed very old to me in that regard; it’s only as i got older and closer to his are that i started to really realize that heck he was really young. so while Luke is definitely an adult in regards to the relationship he has with Percy, Annabeth, and other younger demigods -- which he should have been mindful of and makes his manipulation etc very messed up and not okay -- he’s also young himself which is something to keep in mind. like, Luke is only around 19-22? in the series. That puts him at a power imbalance in regards to Annabeth and Percy, in which he's very much an adult in the relationship, but outside of that he's still pretty young! he’s a college kid, which when you’re younger seems pretty old but then you are one and realize differently -- his brain hasn't even fully developed yet. but i’m like, seriously digressing. 

my intended point was that i disagree with the interpretation that Annabeth was blinded by emotions and a toxic relationship which led her to make excuses for Luke and unable to see him for what he really was etc,--  because Annabeth was angry at him after his betrayal and had even thought he was different, that he didn’t care anymore. The ‘Luke apologist’ behavior only starts at the end of Titan’s Curse, the third book in the five book series. I just feel like her ... feelings? perspective? position? idk the right word.... is often misrepresented? 

she becomes very defensive over Luke’s ‘inner goodness’ and stuff because she’s literally the only one who wants to save him and knows it. she knows what he’s done isn’t okay, but she keeps driving it home that he’s being manipulated because he is! it doesn’t excuse his actions but it doesn’t have to. by the end of titan’s curse, annabeth sees luke as someone terribly lost and no one trying, willing, or caring enough to save him. and like, she’s right when she sees luke as someone who isn’t beyond saving, who’s extremely lost and being manipulated through his trauma and anger -- it doesn’t excuse what he’s doing but that doesn’t make him someone not worthy of saving. despite what he’s done, luke is still her family and she will fight for him. she sees luke the same way percy sees the other opposing demigods in the last olympian and she’s right. she’s not making excuses for him, she doesn’t think he’s done nothing wrong, she’s just not willing to give up on him and she was right. as the child in the relationship/dynamic, it wasn’t her responsibility to be the one to save him and shouldn’t have been, but she wasn’t wrong in how she saw Luke.

 like, their was definitely a power imbalance in their relationship and it’s definitely important to acknowledge that, but i feel like people tend to like, erase annabeth’s agency, for lack of a better word, and attribute her desire to save Luke as being tragically misplaced? like, Luke has totally wronged Annabeth and mistreated her terribly, but like...I find her not giving up on him mostly admirable and not pitiable, though like I said as the child in their dynamic it wasn’t her responsibility.  i’m rambling though.

mostly this post was made to remind people that Annabeth was angry towards Luke, and rightfully so, until near the end of Titan’s Curse, which is where her defending Luke and insisting he could be saved really started, likely with Luke indicating he actually still cared deep down for the first time being the catalyst.  especially since it seems a lot of people give like the impression they think she’s done it from the very beginning? idk ive definitely rambled a lot and lost my main point sometime ago or something. enjoy this anyway.

[ruby-whistler]

Alright curious anon here. All this is /dsmp /rp from here on out unless otherwise specified and is refering to characters. If i make any mistakes or am misinformed please let me know! So by the cat was nothing compared to mushroom henry i was meaning more toward the fact that the cow was killed as a punishment for something not worth or ok for it to be killed for at all and the fact that it belonged to tommy, wheareas the cat was killed more to annoy dream and belonged to tommy. (1/?)

alright then another lengthy reply, here i come! /lh /dsmp /rp

Dream also did not seem to mourn the cat much, shrugging it off with a "just more motivation to break out".

it was killed to hurt dream, not to "annoy him". it doesn't matter who it belonged to, c!dream was attached to it and it died, which had an effect on him and also further proved his point about attachments being weakness and caring getting you hurt, and it's still very sad.

you say that it was not ok at all to kill mooshroom henry, but the cat's death wasn't ok either, so i really don't see your point.

again, i disagree it was "nothing compared to" either way. i never meant to compare them in the first place, i was simply talking about the cat and c!dream so i don't see why it is in any way necessary to drag c!tommy and other dead pets into this. /nm

also, it isn't true he didn't mourn it. he is a very reserved person who doesn't show his feelings much, that's true, but the cat death still changed the way he acted afterwards, as well as the attempts he made to prevent it. he didn't "shrug it off", he yelled about it because he was understandably upset.

You mentioned that propganda was used to make dream seem like a tyrant, could you specify a bjt? Cus im a little confused srry /gen. Because the most i can remember from the lmanburg era at least is him being called a b'tch or other similar insults. You also mentioned how trauma responses can be differet which is true! I agree! Do you have any ideas to what caused dream the trauma?

wilbur would continuously make him out to be some sort of oppressive, tyrannical force, in front of his troops - a prime example of this being the lyrics of the l'manberg anthem itself and the l'manberg declaration of independence.

actually! here's a nice thread about l'manberg's establishment complete with links, timestamps and evidence :]

i also said in my previous post what could've possibly caused it, but since the character intentionally hides his emotions from the public, it would be difficult to see how things really affected him - which is why the way his spiral went is the majority of the evidence that would imply it, however it does make sense within the story as well with what i mentioned last time.

I would like to note that for sapnap at least had reason to leave dream. Some examples off the top of my head are dream leading an angry fundy to sapnap's pets on purpose, resulting in some deaths, dream assisting tommy in burning down sapnap's effiel tower where he got engaged to karl, and dream giving tommy either mars or the other fish at the battle of the lake. Idk about george tho other then the whole mexican lmanburg/el rapids thing and decrowning him

c!sapnap was actually at fault for most of this, and it wasn't really ever betrayal on c!dream's part.

c!dream is a mediator and he wants to stop everyone's conflict - c!fundy was angry because of c!sapnap's actions, and hence it made more sense for c!dream to centre him on c!sapnap's animals instead of running around killing everyone's pets (at that time, all c!dream knew was c!sapnap did something really bad and c!fundy wanted beckerson / mars from him, which were also his and c!george's fish).

c!sapnap was an instigator, and in multiple conflicts during the time as well as before he'd align himself against c!dream. he isn't "loyal" per se, he causes chaos and the reason c!dream helped c!tommy was because, c!sapnap, again, killed his pet. the first l'manberg war and then the 16th are signs of the fact that c!dream and c!sapnap were willing to fight together in actual war, but these small conflicts where c!sapnap continuously picked fights weren't about personal loyalty, nor did they seem to affect their relationship at all.

c!george was never really hurt by c!dream either. the dethronement was him very obviously being a guilt-trippy drama queen, but, well, that's just the character. he had stolen the l'mantree while he was supposed to be the diplomatic figure of the greater smp, which is why c!dream was justified in - very politely, may i mention - taking the duties off of him (seeing as he was also trying to keep him safe and c!techno had already assassinated him once).

Im pretty sure i remember cc!sam stating that his character never canonically physically tortured dream during his subathon but take this with a grain of salt as i am looking for the clip currently. So to the best of my knowledge dream did not have a physical contact trigger during tommy's visit which! I rewatched the vod and dream actually was first to hit tommy and i can give you my full writing downs but 10/12 of the phy-

you never finished this point because you had to go do something, but i'll reply to what is here at the moment (i suggest writing these down before sending next time, or even writing them out wholly before sending a single one could help avoid stuff like this).

i am 95% sure that the reason cc!sam stated this was because people were suspicious he had already been doing what c!quackity was doing after - torture within the storyline itself is associated pretty much only with what c!quackity is doing, so that's what he meant, just to clear up confusion - the starvation or terrible conditions haven't been retconned, but it was direct torture (like c!quackity is doing) people were asking him about.

i never said c!dream had a physical contact trigger at all, i don't think he had that, though he probably will after the torture.

huh, ok, i'm gonna have to rewatch then, but i remember c!tommy punching c!dream a lot and him just telling him to stop and only punching back to get him to stop. trigger or not, getting hit isn't very pleasant, if you know what i mean.

You mentioned tommy stealing dream's armor unprovoked. Do you have the vod or a general idea of the time so i can find it? Like before lmanburg after another event so and so because if you do not have it i can find it but any help is appreciated.

i am pretty sure you can find the video on cc!tommy's channel! there are also recaps of the disc war on youtube :]

I wanna talk a little on why the Final Control Room was so messed up. For starters, with the way the room was designed. It was small, and had labeled, empty chests with each person's name on them as a mockery. The next reason is that its bascially a kill box.

It's fairly inescapble with the stairs being ones you have to jump up, slowing anyone who climbs them down. The final reason it is messed up is that it is shown to have caused every person who died in it trauma. With tommy there are several examples, the time he saw it with techno, the way he refuses to go near it, the exposure trauma, etc. Fundy also appears to have trauma, as when the Red Banquet executions began, it can be seen as him being afraid of dying last again.

It can Be thought as tubbo having trauma because he buries most of his issues and pretends to be ok. Moreover this event took at least one of each person's canon lives, making it the most canon lives lost EVER in a dream smp event. (This is not hate on any of the ccs btw i loved this scene and its one of my personal favorites). Plus the fact Eret's betrayal just literally happened, giving at least Tommy and Wilbur canonic trust issues.

i wouldn't call the chests mockery? it was a trap. people had traps on the smp before. it was a trap in the middle of war, supposed to end said war by killing them all at once rather than individually which would be a lot more bloody and difficult.

i agree c!tommy and other people might have post-war trauma, especially if they were young during the time, but i think that's because the final control room was "messed up", moreso because the war itself was. it all happened fairly instantly as well? i don't think c!fundy would be able to realize he was the last one standing within the two second before he wasn't.

it "can be thought" and it can be interpreted like that but besides c!tommy there isn't much evidence for them "all" being traumatized by the final control room. of course betrayal would spark trust issues, i understand that.

The probation was humiliating in my opinion because dream was Sending tommy anatgonizing messages through out the whole meeting, plus he had to write a review of his day every single day, which fundy mocked him for.

i mean, it was definitely a strike to his pride, but he was being extremely uncooperative so i don't really blame the other members of new l'manberg trying to teach him to listen for once? of course i know c!dream was riling him up, and that should definitely be considered. i don't think it would be as humiliating if c!tommy didn't make it, is what i'm saying.

for the tommy being toxic to fundy? At least for the examples you gave, to me personally they come acoross as either in a meta way being the cc's bantering or in canon being the characters having banter. If you can send the post with the clips so i can read the tone better that would be cool but if not i will try and find em.

no, these were all in canon. canon isn't only when c!tommy is being nice, it's also when he's being a jerk. /lh

the first one was him threatening c!fundy about kicking him out of l'manberg and undermining his self-worth, and the second one was him trying to get c!sapnap to vote for them via bullying c!fundy.

i found these from a transcript focusing on c!fundy's character, so i don't know exactly where the first one is from, but the second one i am pretty sure is from when the elections were starting with the whole cabinet battle deal and all of that.

there are other instances, and all of them are canon. his personality was never being nice or compassionate, so i'm not really surprised? he still cares about the people he cares about and is very brave, y'know. but this part of his personality is definitely a valid reason for people to dislike him.

I hope the exam went well :). Hope u have a great day! (Ps i think theres something called a submission box to send in pictures? Am not entirely sure sry)

it would've gone well but my work-speed is a tad too slow for the schooling system (considering i'm three years younger than my classmates,,, probably that's also a factor) so probably not despite the fact i knew everything and would've aced it if i only had more time. i did as well as i could so i'm not worried about it, but thanks!

i think you're thinking submissions. sadly, i tested it and it doesn't work on anons, so idk how you'd solve that, maybe make a burner account?

Curious anon here one point you may wanna include in the redemption essay is that c!tubbo or c!tommy do not necessarily have to forgive him. What's important is that he recognizes what he did was wrong (exile, beating tommy to death, manipulating them both, etc) and does his best to make amends. Hope this helps! Can't wait to see your essay

it's out, idk if you've seen it yet, and i think i included enough of that so hope it's all good! :)

the mcc update video is out if you are an mcc enjoyer. It's very neat, if you wanna check it out

yeah! i am a fellow mcc enjoyer, saw it already, thanks for telling me though, i'm really hype for today.

Allo curious anon here sorry if the lots of asks bother you. I was just curious if i could share an interesting post i saw today about c!dream :0 (not necessarily negative i think? More of a statement of an often-confused canon)

sure thing! i don't know what you mean by often-confused since, the entire fanbase is very confused always, and often selection bias plays into the perception from both sides, but sure :]

you also sent in a thing for the other anon who said they didn't know what c!dream did that bad; pretty sure they couldn't really be alerted since, not sure if they watch my blog that closely, but i'll summarize your points just in case and add some notes;

the repeated blowing up of l'manberg (in my mind that's largely a positive since i,, despise that country, but fair enough), revealed c!ranboo as a traitor (they seem to be friends so i also,, think that might've been planned between him and enderboo), sent ghostbur away (i don't think c!dream knew it was dangerous for him and wanted to actually hurt him, but idk), participated in fighting against c!sapnap when he killed people's pets (that's only negative against c!sapnap and didn't seem to hurt him much at all), and then the whole vault scene where he was allegedly planning to steal people's things (though saying he would & being stopped beforehand and doing it are two different things, frankly).

so i still agree with the other anon that a lot of the hurt he did "to the entire server" (he only negatively interacted with like,, a half of them) is exaggerated both by the characters and the fandom, but i guess that's a consequence of most people seeing him as a threat to everyone's happiness rather than a complex personality.

Also he was aware of the butcher army going to kill techno but only got involved because he saw an opportunity to get a favor. (As he knew in advance due to him telling techno to get a totem, watching from afar instead of interveing or manipulating tubbo out of it)

i don't understand this at all, i'm sorry. how do you know he only helped techno in order to get a favor? last i remember he was only doing it to protect and strengthen his alliance, and techno came up with the whole favor thing entirely on his own. you might've not watched techno's perspective or their prior interactions, idk, but this really is a misinterpretation in my eyes. /nm

sorry if that is overly dream negative i just wanted to let yall know cus you seemed unaware -curious anon

nah dw, i watch the smp and i watched all of these things happen so, wouldn't say unaware, but thanks.

[kirietown]

With a Smile

pairing: all might x f!reader

summary: After all, he deserved to be selfish sometimes— and frankly so did you. It came with the wait, didn’t it?

content: toxic relationship, manipulative reader, 18+, size kink, fwb

[part one] [part two] [ao3]

word count: 4.1K

Even as a teenager, you had known that he was something to admire. He was as charitable as he was handsome (something you heard other girls say). ‘He’s got that look— he’s a classic in the making.’ With a quirk as strong as his, it was always expected that he’d make it into the big leagues. But you didn’t care about that; you loved something else about him that you’d never admit to today. You could focus on the physical, however, or the superficial in place of your real thoughts.

His eyes always shone with a light you only thought you could see in the sky— as cheesy as that sounded (you were never quite the poet). In your days at UA you had simply been an underclassmen to him, just another smiling face that would sputter out a simple ‘h-hello senpai’ with the same schoolgirl nerves that he had probably witnessed at least fifty times a day (or maybe not).

Though that meek attitude shaped into something else as his last weeks at UA were approaching. You were only in the year below him, now seventeen and envious of the wind that got to hug his skin, holding him in time as he leant against the trees and watched as other students jogged, or sparred one another. An ever present smile quirked on his lips with a nostalgic sense of fondness as he admired from a distance.

Always from a distance; never in the centre.

You approached him— that was always your favourite thing to say to the small amount of friends who knew about the two of you (he was never a lady’s man in spite of his charisma). Though you never mentioned the slight tremor in your fingers and the nervous expression on your face as you reached forward and gripped the bottom of his uniform jacket. Though you did always have the inclination to mention the startled expression on his face. Pretty blue eyes widened in confusion, blonde hair windswept with his bangs parted on either side of his face, and finally a slight ‘oh’ shape of his lips.

“Yagi-senpai,” you had said (with a stutter you never mentioned). “There’s a cafe just outside campus, I would like you to take me.”

Is what you told your friends you had said— the truth was irrelevant if it was meant to be kept secret.

You chose to live by that.

“Y-yagi-senpai,” you said softly. “Would you be able to assist me in unstacking chairs for graduation?” A smile replaced his shock as he looked down at your smaller frame before nodding his head enthusiastically.

In spite of how unconventional(ly pathetic) that interaction was, you found yourself growing closer to him over the course of the end of the school year. He still kept a distance however, always brushing off questions about his family or his home life, but frankly you never minded. The fleeting looks and tender eyes were only reserved for you; it didn’t matter that his secrets weren’t for anyone as long as you had his eyes.

It was his graduation day when you finally had his lips.

It was late at night and the two of you had volunteered to take down the decorations and fix up the large training area that had been used for the ceremony. He was still in his cap and gown and you had donned a silk (f/c) dress that went to your knees. Once you two had finished stacking the chairs and rolling up the streamers (which the school insisted could be reused), he slid down to the floor with his back to the wall and a dreamy expression on his face.

“Excited?” You had asked. Your own lips were in a firm line as your eyes met the airy smile etched on his lips.

“America is the land of the free, after all,” he said with a cheerful wink— and for a moment you felt what was possibly the first trickle of resentment you had ever felt for the blonde giant. Still, you bit back your tongue and admired him from afar. You let out a sigh before you moved to stand right in front of him, so close you were between his legs. You remembered how he shuffled awkwardly as if attempting to sit up straight with his back to the wall. But you could only focus on the slight pain in your knees when they bumped against the floor. You seated yourself and straddled his wide hips— his large body proportions causing your thighs to feel strained as you sat. You ignored the blush that coated both your faces as you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned closely— you were careful to watch his expression as if looking for a sign to continue before tentatively planting a shy kiss to his cheek. You sensed his jaw clench, and for a moment you were scared until you felt his arms wrap around your waist and brought you closer.

With hesitance, you pressed your lips against his and found yourself unsure of what to do until you felt his own move against yours. He parted his lips shyly— and it had become apparent that you had taken his first kiss. For a few moments your tongues swirled together with teeth clacking until you both picked up a steady rhythm. His arms wrapped slightly tighter around your waist before he adjusted you on his knee, leaning closer into you. You were the first to pull back, ignoring the string of saliva between the two of you, and moved your head to pepper small wet kisses amongst his jaw before you descended to his neck with a final slow peck.

“I’ll wait for you, Toshinori,” and your friends always swooned when you repeated the words you never said. Their hearts on their sleeves as they gushed on about your boldness and sense of pride. But the truth was after your heated kiss with the muscled male, you had looked him dead in the eyes with a powdered blush and puffy dark lips and said:

“Please , don’t leave me behind.”

Even though you hid those words from the ears of your closest friends, you never did feel shame saying them.

The following four years were kind to you and although you weren’t dating, Toshinori kept in contact with you whilst he studied abroad. You, on the other hand, continued your studies in the medical field rather than choose to work as a sidekick, or try to join an agency. Studies were hectic, but you managed to make acquaintances and even went on a few dates. A part of you wanted to tell Toshinori in a delusional hope that he’d pack his bags and come straight home in a jealous fit— but you were too frightened to say anything in fear of his support; or worse being that he was seeing others too. Though none of your relationships lasted long nor escalated beyond heated kisses, as childish and wishful as it may have sounded; you only wanted Toshi.

It was the day after he came back that you decided to invite him over to your apartment. To say you were shocked was an understatement when you had opened your door to greet the male. He had to dunk down in order to enter— you guessed he was just a few inches over seven feet. You couldn’t help but clench your thighs together at the thought. Other than that, and the way his bangs were styled up, he looked the same. Although his grin seemed to be much wider with what you could describe as permanent smile wrinkles on his cheeks from the way the corners of lips stayed tilted up. For a moment you wished he only smiled at you.

The night was a long one as you both ate a meal you had cooked before you both found yourselves on the couch with a glass of wine in your hand. He, however, insisted on drinking only water for himself much to your amusement.

“As a hero I can’t take the risk of becoming inebriated,” he said with a small laugh, but you weren’t sure about what was so funny.

Other than that, the two of you made small talk as you caught up with one another, the wine gradually loosening you up. It wasn’t enough to make you drunk but just so much so that you inched closer and closer to him without the typical school girl blush he was used to.

“Toshi,” you said softly. Your hand trailed up his torso before moving to wrap his blue tie around your wrist. You pulled him a bit closer to your smaller form. You noticed the way he stilled. “I missed you so much.”

Rather than don the flustered expression that you expected to grace his features, he turned his head away— although you could spot a red blush dusting his face.

“Y/N,” he stated. “I’m sorry.”

Still a bit too confident from the wine, you used his tie to pull yourself closer until you were draped around his side. Your other hand turned his head to look at you in the eyes— (your) lust evident.

“What for?”

“I can never offer you stability, a future or even a family together,” he spoke honestly. “My master had to abandon her own son to protect him from the hero world, and I can’t ever picture having to do the same to you.” You felt sober then. He tightly shut his eyes and you wondered if he anticipated your tears— but they never came.

“I know exactly what I need from you Toshi, it might not be the traditional relationship but I think you should allow yourself to be selfish sometimes, and just indulge.” At the time, you felt as if you weren’t thinking clearly; you were drunken from his presence in a way you always would be.

“Not if the risk comes with your life,” he replied.

Your lips moved to graze his jaw. The muscle clenched in a way that reminded you all too much of a past where Toshi was unafraid of loving you.

“Toshi…” You whispered. “I know the risks— I always knew the risks, I just want to be able to love you in any way I can.” You weren’t sure if you were lying, but you knew you needed him in one way or another. He seemed to understand your point because his face grew impossibly more red at the sound of your sultry voice.

“I… It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me, to use you for just my needs and string you along in such a way.” You couldn’t help but release a slight giggle, although forced, at his words before moving to kneel next to him on the coach.

“Now you’re just grasping at straws; I don’t mind being used for your needs.” He furrowed his brows, and for a moment you felt a bit of shame pool in your stomach; he was never used to this lewd side of you. Still, he didn’t seem to share the same amusement you did, and he stood up suddenly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I—“ he paused as if to collect his thoughts before turning to look you in the eye. “I respect you Y/N, and I respect you enough to tell you that you deserve someone who’ll put you first.”

How pathetic would it be of you to tell him you didn’t mind coming in second?

“Leave then,” you said firmly, unable to meet his eyes. Your own were trailed to the half empty wine bottle on the coffee table in front of you. You didn’t even look up when you heard the door of your apartment gently close shut.

You resented him in that moment because you hated feeling pathetic, and you hated the fact that you were a liar.

You wanted to come first for him, and you always have.

It was a week later when he tapped on your window. It was the dead of night but you didn’t care because he was bleeding and in a twist of events you healed him with your quirk— (which allowed you to reverse any injuries obtained within a twenty-four hour time frame). It was cliche, life surely imitating art, but you felt that in a way he was too.

You weren’t one to gloss over details or jump from one point to another, but Toshi always managed to be able to coax out the worst in you even with as bright of a smile as his. Before you knew it, your lips were on his. His hands felt hot as they traced your body through your nightgown. It wasn’t necessarily fiery nor erratically quick paced though you felt yourself heat up from his caresses. He gently pulled down your slip allowing for your breasts to be exposed to the cold night air from the open window. He didn’t seem to mind the chill. Toshinori’s large hands moved to cup your breasts whilst his mouth moved softly against yours, tongues daring to trace each other.

You disconnected your mouth and let a small whine emerge from your throat as Toshinori pinched and pulled your left nipple. Your back was to his firm chest as you remained sprawled on his lap. He paused in his pawing and moved one of his hands to cup your chin up in order to face him, albeit at an awkward angle.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked softly, a slight pant to his voice as his opposite hand moved to rub tender circles around your areola.

Rather than speak, you simply shook your head before softly gripping the hand that held your chin and moved it so that it cupped your sex through your panties. He laughed, and for once you didn’t feel ashamed of your desperation. Your gown was pulled up so that it was wrinkled around your stomach. The material was pushed down your breasts and above your navel. Your legs on either side of his thighs, spread out like a rag doll. He kissed you softly before palming you through your panties whilst his other hand returned to its pulling and kneading. You released a soft moan as his fingers moved the fabric to the side and began to gently rub your slit before he inserted two thick fingers inside your pussy. You always had an admiration for his hands, big, just like everything else about him from his smile to his—

You pushed your ass against him and felt him stir.

“Toshi.. So good… I want you inside… me…” You whined desperately, whilst grinding your backside into his hard cock, hidden underneath his spandex suit. He bucked his hips back causing you to arch forward, just a bit. Toshinori tenderly squeezed your breast and brought you closer to his chest. You could hear the sloshing sounds of your wetness as he quickened his pace. He leant down to kiss your neck as he inserted another finger which coaxed a low moan. Your walls squeezed around his girthy digits, and a grunt emerged from his chest from the sensation. You began to arch your back more as if to match his steady pace as he fucked you with his fingers. But suddenly his other hand had moved to grasp onto your hip and slide you closer as your ass met his erection.

“You’re so beautiful…” he murmured softly. “Divine…” You only ignored his words and continued to pant as his fingers hit that spot inside you, a familiar sensation of a bubble building up in your lower stomach that threatened to burst if he continued his pace and motions. A loud moan ripped as he spread his fingers almost scissor like— you felt yourself getting closer and it was then you clasped your hand around his arm, your fingers shaking as your thighs trembled with his limb continuously sending pleasure to your lower stomach.

“S-Stop…” you whined. “Too much…”

To your irritation, he listened a bit too literally and ceased his movements before hesitantly removing his fingers and coating your thighs in your slick essence.

“You didn’t need to…” You began to say but halted at the shy expression on his face; you smiled before pecking him on the lips. Your hands brushed against his chest and you were suddenly startlingly aware of the fact that you were the only one undressed. With shaky legs, you stood and faced him. Your slip tumbled down and pooled around your feet, and usually you’d be left insecure but the darkness of the room gave you the confidence you needed. You swayed, and walked towards him until you were between his legs and pressed against him. “Maybe just… get undressed, and we can move to,” you paused to trace your fingers down his cheek, “other things.” You pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lip before moving to sit behind him on your bed.

For a few moments he remained seated before he stood up and began to strip off his tight layer of clothing, allowing it to remain a pile by his feet before turning to face you. You tried your best to keep your eyes on his own but couldn’t help but to glance down only to dart your eyes back up again.

He was big.

As if with caution, which he seemed to approach everything with, he crawled closer to you on the bed until you were face to face. Your noses touched in a butterfly kiss. “Are you sure you want me?” He asked, and for a moment you wondered if he was an idiot.

You answered him by wrapping your arms around his neck and met him in a hungry kiss. Your tongue dominated his, though part of you knew he had given you easy control. Though he circled his strong arms around you, as if you were made of glass, before he laid you on your back. His arm moved to hold himself up, whilst the other trailed down to stroke himself. He broke the kiss with a final peck before pushing his head in between the cusp of your shoulder and neck and gave you fumbled kisses. Soon he let out a whine as your hand reached down to wrap around his shaft, you could feel its hard length as you stroked him lazily before moving your hand to his hip, and guided him closer to your core.

With a shallow breath, he edged closer until he was rubbing against your heat. With the aid of his hand he began to push into you. You bit your lip at the pain and gripped his shoulder, not daring to speak knowing that he’d stop if he thought he was hurting you. The pain continued as he fully sheathed himself inside you with a low groan of pleasure. He turned his eyes to look at yours as if for confirmation before you nodded your head and wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

He continued to pace himself as he slowly pulled his hips back and forth, with whines and moans filling the room. Soon pleasure began to build up and you arched your back as his cock swelled inside you, but the slight tinge of pain resided.

“Toshi... Go harder… You feel so good,” you murmured into his ear to which he replied with a sensual roll of his hips. You arched your back in ecstasy which allowed him to take his unoccupied arm and wrap it under the curve of your back.

“I don’t wanna—“ he continued to pace himself as he fucked into you, “— hurt you. Let me love you like this.” A quiet moan vibrated out of his chest as his thrusts got sloppier, his arms moving to gently caress your hips as he slightly kneeled for balance. Your legs only barely managed to hook around his muscled waist as he rocked into you. A shudder went down your spine as you felt his cock convulse suggesting he was near his end— and you were as well in spite of his romantically cautious pace.

His hands squeezed around your hips before he quickly moved them to the headboard as he continued to grind his hips into you with care, a whiny whimper emerged from his throat as you felt his release sputter inside you. Sweat trickled down his skin and his pupils were dilated which brought out the bright blue of his irises. For a moment, you felt that familiar schoolgirl shyness emerge as that tender smile curled around his lips— not the one he gave the press or the public, but the one that he gave to you.

You loved that smile, but a cynical part of you dwelled on the fact that you wanted more— more than you know he’d ever give.

That night you hadn’t noticed the cracks in your headboard from the sheer power of his hands, nor did you pay any mind to the fact that he edged your cunt all night, not finding any sort of release.

Not that he could help it; he was just too soft.

You used to think you loved that about him.

From that day on, he’d come by occasionally (sometimes after weeks apart, or even months) to get ‘fixed up’ which would always result in you under him writhing from the countless waves of pleasure he’d shoot through your aching body. At first it was ecstasy, getting to see his face lose its smile as he shut his eyes and rolled his hips deep into your cunt. But as the years went by you couldn’t help but always want more. In his passions, he always held you as if you’d shatter if he brought even the slightest bit of his strength to the bedroom. (It was always the bedroom, he couldn’t bare to fuck you over a table or a couch). At first you thought it was the gentleman in him, laid with guilt at the fact that he could only indulge with you in secret. But as the years went by, you began to realize you were his escape.

On the television screen, you always watched his fights as they broadcasted. You marvelled at how his smile stayed glued to his face whilst his fists collided with villains and debris. His profession was a violent one, it kept his arms raised and teeth bared all whilst breathing an ‘I am here’ to the world. It was starkly different from how he handled you, gently, not even daring to leave a hickey or bruise on your skin. You supposed that in your apartment, wrapped up in the sheets of your bed, did he ever feel he could be a loving man.

You figured that out a few years after your first time together. You, seated on his lap with his back to your headboard, slowly and deeply, sliding your hips up and bringing them back down onto his hard cock with the aid of his firm hands. His hands had always felt warm, especially as they stroked your hips soothingly whilst his soft moans fanned your collarbone. His face was flushed against your neck as he orgasmed, filling you with his cum, but you didn’t stop grinding your hips. It was then that you felt his tears slide down your skin as he moved his arms to encompass around you, sending yourself over the edge with the realization.

You didn’t overthink it— and frankly, you hoped he hadn’t realized that it was the sound of his snivelling and the thought of his tears cascading down his pretty face that sent you over the edge and made you cum hard on his cock. It was pathetic of the both of you, but the dark side of you loved seeing him act like a bitch.

However, you stayed wrapped in his arm, unmoving, until your hands went to push back his hair and cooed half heartedly (you were still half high off of your release). You never thought you’d see him cry— especially after sex, in fact, you never thought anyone had seen him cry. You felt your walls clench again, a shudder rippling through his chest whilst you warmed his cock with your heat.

“I… Love you,” he sniffled, his arms pulled you tighter to his chest. His blonde head was still buried in your neck, his words flurrying warm air to your chest.

Years ago, you would have blushed and stammered at his confession. But you only held him close, awkwardly, as he was still buried deep inside you. Although flaccid, you could feel his warmth begin to pulse as your muscle tightened.

You didn’t blush, however, because he never did confess, but the three words he did utter (you had learned) were practically synonymous over the course of your relationship.

“I… Am sorry,” he sniffled— and to you; it was the confession you were dying to hear.

Years turned into decades and you would be lying if you said you stayed faithful to him. There was a slight guilt that weighed in on your chest but that didn’t stop you from getting fucked by strangers, and even the odd co-worker or two. It was never stable, and you blamed Toshi for that. Which was likely why you felt pangs of arousal whenever you caught his eye glaring into the love bites left by other men.

That school girl crush died years ago, but you’d be damned if you ever tried to let him go.

[bibbykins]

Tandem Heartbeats and Close Calls

A/N: Hi everyone! I had started this little drabble forever ago and recently finished it in a half-asleep stupor, so I hope you can forgive the quality. It’s not my best work, but I do want to give the time I spent finishing it justice by posting. Also, I know a ton of people want some sort of part two or continuance for Embroidery, and I do too, so until I can muster a proper part-two, please enjoy this drabble... which is also me committing myself to a series of fight/make up drabbles for the soft yan boys. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and have a lovely day/night!

Pairing: Soft Yandere! (Embroidery) Kim Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship, panic attack, sensory overload meltdown/reaction, mean/degrading words, dissociation (kinda), emotional manipulation- this is not a depiction of a good or healthy couple this is an installment in the dark romance that I write for a mature (18+ since the first installment is rated as such) audience and do not wish nor intend for anyone to glorify or strive for this kind of relationship and I do not think anyone in BTS would act like this at all IRL, this is a work of fiction depicting a relationship that could not exist as such or functionally IRL,I could go on for days about this but please know that much. Also if I left out anything else I should add in the warnings I am so sorry and please let me know. 

Summary: He just wanted to stand up for you and you just wanted to stand on your own. The thought of you doing anything on your own, without him,  shakes him to his very core. 

You hated tension. You hated anger and the silence that came from having no words to properly express emotions. Yet, here you were with Taehyung, sitting in  his living room as he paced wildly, the both of you still in your work clothes. The disagreement turned full-blown fight stemming from an issue that seemed so silly to you.

You looked at your nails, chipping off the polish as you spoke, “I don’t see why you’re overreacting to misogyny in the workplace like this.” You mumbled, "And mad at me for it." You huffed, only earning a scoff from the pacing man.

“I don’t see why you’re so intent on being pushed around by lazy workers.” He seethed, “Youngmin knows better than to throw his work on you, he’s a production manager!”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at this. You already knew that. You were just about to tell Youngmin that before Taehyung stepped in needlessly. This had definitely not been the first time people dumped work on you purely because you were a capable secretary and someone who looked like a pushover. You knew how to handle these situations, regardless if you ended up doing the work. Taehyung, however, seemed to not have any such faith in you considering the scene he made on the entire accounting floor, embarrassing the life out of you.

“That doesn’t give you the right to make a scene on my behalf.” You hissed back, "I can stand up for myself, if you just gave me the chance."

Taehyung scoffed and it made your eyebrow twitch at his patronizing demeanor, “Well, what else do I do if you’re being pushed around?” You huffed at the comment.

“I’m not being pushed around.” You tried to reason but Taehyung wouldn’t have it.

“Well, I’m the one making sure of that!” You flinched at the volume of his voice, but he didn’t catch it from his pacing while you stood, making him freeze.

“Then why are you the only one pushing me around?!” You huffed, tears in your eyes while Taehyung felt his heart crack. You had never yelled at him before, let alone cried because if him. The same realization seemed to dawn on you as you faltered for a moment, “I-I can handle things myself sometimes, you know.” You spoke incredulously, “I was a person of my own before you, do you not get that?!”

“Oh yeah? Who?” He snapped and you gasped lightly. Is this what he genuinely thought about you? Did your own boyfriend think so low of you and you couldn't see it, “I just remember you being a receptionist that cried on the phone and couldn’t be bothered to so much as make her own lunch, so what were you, if not mine?” He finished his words with a hard glare fixated at you which immediately softened at your glassy eyes with betrayal lying in your pupils

"How could you say that to me?!" You seethed, your eyes void of any affection or love for the man before you, making him freeze, “Do you know how hard I’ve worked to be who I am, and that person is not just your girlfriend, do you want me to prove it?!" Your words felt like a veiled threat, like you would leave him and he felt your words like a spear to the heart.

He could not let that happen, under any circumstances. You could not leave him. He could never allow it. You were his world, his everything, his reason for existing.

Going into panic mode, the man spoke in a hushed tone “Baby, I didn’t mean-

You held your hand up, silencing him as you shook your head, “I need some time to, you know, figure out who I am." You spoke sarcastically but voice quiet as you shuffled to the door.

"W-What do you mean?" He tried to keep the panic in his voice at bay as you slipped on your shoes.

You shrugged, "I don't know." An honest answer did make the situation less frightening for the both of you. What the fuck did you mean? What the fuck were you going to do by yourself?

Wrong answer. In order for you to leave this place, he had to know you loved him and would still continue to do so.

"You know I love you, my Venus, right?" His restraint was hanging by a thread as he watched you slip on your shoes.

"Right." You spoke, barely above a whisper.

Strike two. You didn't say it back. Why would you not say it back? How could you not say it back?! Taehyung watched his nightmare unfold at his own hand. You were slipping away from him, and for the first time, he had no idea what to do.

"I don't want you to go home this late, my love." He took slow steps toward you as your shaky hands tied your shoes, not accustomed to this kind of conflict, "I can just sleep on the couch, and you can..."

You whimpered as you couldn't tie your damn shoes. Your hands were shaking along with the rest of your form as you couldn't focus on the task at hand. You were overstimulated to say the least by everything. From the work day, to the scene, to the fight, to the brokeness of everything around you. Taehyung and you rarely ever fought and each time it was mentally exhausted, but it had never been this bad. You had never felt so sub-human and worthless. Were you just an accessory this whole time?

Had Taehyung loved you or just your company? You felt like a burden to him and just like a shitty excuse of a human all around. What the hell are you if not his? Maybe he was right.

A whine sounded from your closed lips as tears fell to the ground. Your shaky hands had paused on your laces completely, the knots tangled and resembling nothing like the bunny ears you needed. Goodness, you couldn't even tie your damn shoes correctly. 

Taehyung's words evidently fell on def years as only distressed sounds and whines came from you. The word was blurrying from your tears and just being overwhelmed all around as your chest squeezed around itself and you opened your mouth to choke on a sob before two hands covered your ears, pushing your face into a familiar chest.

You fought against the embrace before falling on your bottom and defeatedly ceasing your struggles as you focused on the quickened heartbeat your partner had. Why was he so panicked? Surely you were not significant enough to make the ever cool Kim Taehyung's self-confidence shake, right? His heart was pounding furiously, just like yours, though. You thought back to his comment about tandem heart beats on your first night together. Now, the reasoning didn't sound so crazy as the synchronous heartbeats you both shared resounded between your forms. Your sobs evolved into just heavy breaths as your shoulders relaxed a bit, signaling the man holding you to pull back a bit. His hands slid down to cup your cheeks and stroked them softly, a sad smile adorning his beautiful face.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay, hm?" He kissed your forehead, eyes glossy as he pulled back, laying his forehead on yours, "I'm so fucking sorry I was being such a piece of shit." His voice shook, "Fuck, I never meant to hurt you like that, I didn't even mean what I said. I was just fucking projecting because I was nothing until you came into my life-"

"What a lie." You sniffled, "You have always been Kim Taehyung, campus prince, successful businessman, a fucking CEO- board member- whatever." You sighed out, "You've always been something-"

"None of that meant anything to me, barely does now, I never cared about anything until I met you." He breathed shakily, "I love you so much and you brought so much color to my world and I felt like all I had to offer you was protection and I have no damn idea how to be of use to you while you're so effortlessly the focal point of my existence." 

Your breath hitched at this, "I-I… What the hell are you talking about?" You huffed out, "This whole night I have felt like such a burden, like I was just a pet for you to look after, like I would be nothing without you- like you said-" Pain flashed across his face. He did say that. He didn’t mean it, but he said it and it affected you.

"Shit, I did not mean that at all, please believe me." He begged, voice cracking, "I am nothing if not yours, I can't take care of myself without you, my life is nothing without you in it." You opened your mouth to protest but he continued after a heavy breath, "I remember you as the receptionist who didn't care who liked her and who didn't, but you were still so shamelessly human and it was, and still is, fucking beautiful to see, you are so dedicated and hard-working. I felt the only way I could even get involved with you was through anonymous lunches because I was too cowardly to just approach you. Why would you like me to begin with? You never once needed me, but I have spent years now, needing you so shamelessly and it makes me feel so small when you don't need my help and I lash out like a child about it and say things I don't fucking mean, at all." He took a deep breath, "I love you more than anything, more than life itself, and I never want to make you feel like anything less than a fucking goddess and I'm so sorry I fucked up so bad." You couldn't find words as he gave you a short kiss on your nose before pulling away, averting his eyes as his cheeks glistened and he focused his hand on your shoes, "If you still need time on your own, I understand, and...and I will respect that." He spoke softly, defeated, as he gently undid the tangle of knots on your left shoe before beginning to tie it correctly, "Is that too tight?" He murmured.

You shook your head, tears heavy on your cheeks, "Stop, Tae-Tae." You pleaded softly but he could hardly register your words until you laid a hand on his, making him look up at you.

You studied his face, tears fresh on his cheeks with stains beginning to dry from previous ones, "Baby?" His voice was so broken.

"You can just take off the shoes, I-I want to lay down." You looked at him as he met your eyes with hopefully ones, "With you. I want to lay down… with you." He nodded before gingerly taking your shoes off, as if to give you time to change your mind, "I love you Tae-Tae, I really fucking do, and it's so scary because I want to be perfect for you like you are for me and I feel like I keep falling short and so to hear you say that earlier it just…" You shrugged, not sure how to vocalize how you felt.

He sighed, "I really didn't mean it, but it doesn't change the fact that I said it." He began to take off the other shoe, "I do think you're perfect and I need to be better with my stupid fucking insecurity about it and stop being such a dick." He slipped the other shoe off before pulling you into a tight embrace, "I love you, so much, and I would give up everything in a heartbeat just to be with you." You held him back, giving him peace of mind after being so vulnerable.

Your body was exhausted as he carried you to his bedroom. You could barely help him as he dressed you for bed and tucked you in carefully before sliding in next to you. He cradled you delicately in his arms, not squeezing until you held him against you tighter, "I forgive you." You whispered against his chest, "I love you, I really do."

"Thank you so much, my Venus." He sighed in relief at your words, "I love you too, so fucking much." He leant down as you kissed his lips softly. 

Taehyung lightly admonished himself for a moment. He nearly lost you. He could never let that happen again from his own foolishness. He couldn't live without you. He would never fuck up like that again, and he wouldn't. He vowed to never make a scene like that. He had to do that shit in private, obviously. He slipped up, but he would not be so obnoxious again. 

Before he could continue to curse his stupidity, you snuggled against him, "G'night, my love." You murmured and he relaxed instantly, head cleared with only thoughts of how much he loved you.

"Sweet dreams, my Venus." He kissed the crown of your head and you hummed in delight at the gesture before he joined you in closing his eyes and drifting away into a peaceful sleep after one of the scariest nights of his life.

Thankfully, Taehyung never made the same mistake twice. Especially a mistake so critical. Who knows what he would’ve had to do if you were dead set on leaving him? Again, thankfully, neither you, nor Taehyung, would not find out. Not that Taehyung  planned for you to ever find out just how far he was willing to go to keep you with him, to keep your requited love, to keep both of your hearts beating, together.

Masterlist

Donate to my ko-fi (if you want to ofc)

[mysticalhouseofcards]

✨🔮✨Bts romantic soulmates / future spouses current energy reading ✨

Hi guys 👋 I hope everyone is good 😊 I decided to do future spouses readings since all of the BTS members seems like they'll get married to their romantic soulmates except Namjoon who his romantic soulmate is a different person from his future spouse and that's why I did both romantic soulmate's and future spouse's current energy reading for him ! For those who haven't seen the pendulum reading about them getting married to their romantic soulmates click -> here

Kim Namjoon's

✨Romantic soulmate's reading✨

Current Energy

I got ✨Judgement ✨this card indicate taking responsibility for her actions and her life, being a good judge of character, seeing the truth and knowing what she wants. Judgement t card often shows up when you need to step up . It can also mean that she is getting out of a karmic circle and see more clearly around her , maybe her awakening has begun.

Hopes and Fears

I got ✨The Tower ✨This card shows me that she is afraid of the unknown , generally the feeling of being unsure and she's very much afraid that something will happen that will open old wounds of hers and that her life will get messed up once again .

How to Release

✨Page of Cups reversed ✨Reversed, this card could be advising to “get real.” She has to get her head out of the clouds and plant her feet firmly on the ground.Her emotions may be all over the place. She needs to do her best to practice emotional restraining.The Page of Cups reversed can also symbolize emotional immaturity , as advice, this card may be saying: time to grow up girl.She may also need to practice emotional detachment from a past situation.

Future

✨Page of Wands ✨With this card I'm seeing good news coming for her in the future through phone calls , emails , texts . They could be good news about any kind of situation . Also this card indicates being creative ,working on new ideas or projects with a lot of enthusiasm and passion , healed inner child and very playful attitude .

✨Future Spouse's reading✨

Current Energy

I got ✨Five of Pentacles✨,in a general context, the Five of Pentacles is not a great card to get as it represents hardship, rejection or a negative change in circumstances. She may be feeling like the world is against her and nothing is going her way. It can signify bad luck, struggles or adversity. Unemployment, alienation and poverty are all represented by this card and it can also signify health problems, breakups or scandals causing turmoil in her life. She might feeling like she's left out in the cold, but, she has to remember that this situation is only temporary and then ask herself if she's reaching out for any help or support that is available. There is help out there for her. It may be in the form of moral support from friends or family, financial assistance from social welfare, or even the kindness of strangers but whatever it is, she has to take it. Nothing lasts forever and this hardship too shall pass.

Hopes and Fears

✨Six of Cups reversed ✨ With this card I feel like she remembers past events of her life , maybe her childhood , some with nostalgia and some others with sadness . Maybe she didn't have the most easy childhood and there were moments that she needed to left her child self back and be more mature . As it seems she is being in a difficult situation at the moment so with this card I could say that she hopes to find help from her family and friends.

How to Release

I got ✨Strength ✨She has many challenges before her at the moment but she is more than ready to face them. She has to rely on her inner strength at this time and remain calm. She’ll master the situation she has to be brave! Her courage will see her through. She needs to take matters into her very capable hands. She has got the power to get this situation under control.

Future

✨Nine of Swords reversed ✨In a general context, the Nine of Swords reversed represents seeing the light at the end of the tunnel after dark times. When reversed, it is a card of recovering from depression or mental illness or issues improving, letting go of negativity, releasing stress and learning to cope. It signifies opening up, accepting help and facing life.

Kim Seokjin's

Current Energy

✨Two of Pentacles ✨In a general context, the Two of Pentacles can indicate that she is trying to find or maintain the balance between various areas of her life. This card represents the ups and downs of life and indicates that she is resourceful, adaptable and flexible enough to get through them. However, it can be a warning that trying to juggle too many things at once and not prioritising what is important can lead to failure and exhaustion. She has to try to evaluate where she's putting her energy and cut back on what is not necessary in order to maintain a balanced and happy life. The Two of Pentacles can also indicate that decisions need to be made and making these choices may be causing her stress. It can also signify partnership and the struggle to find the right balance between her needs and the needs of someone else.

Hopes and Fears

I got ✨Eight of Wands✨ This card shows me that she chose to see life with a positive and hopeful eyes and she hopes that everything she wants and have in mind can have progress and come to life . She feels very energetic , positive and enthusiastic about her ideas , she might plan to go on a travel . She is working very hard and she believes and hope that her hard work will be paying of and that she'll be ahead of the game . Although I am sensing all this positivity I think she's kind of afraid that she's becoming obsessed with someone or something.

How to Release

✨The Hanged Man reversed ✨ Let go is the advice this card gives . No one gets spiritual by hanging on to a situation or a person or an idea. Sometimes we need to let go.This card can also be suggesting learning to land on your own two feet. Have faith in herself.Instead of being still, the Hanged Man advises to take action. The time to wait is over now it’s time to move! If she has been making too many sacrifices, she has to stop. She doesn't have to be a martyr or a saint. It’s okay to put her needs first.

Future

I got ✨The King of Swords ✨ I'm seeing achievement, this tarot card denotes a professional who is at the top of their game (it seems like she'll get what she wants). She'll become someone who is an expert in their field and would have had to study to acquire this knowledge. She also may have plenty of practical experience in how to apply this knowledge in a very sophisticated manner till then .

Min Yoongi's

Current Energy

✨Two of Pentacles reversed ✨ In a general context, this card reversed can indicate that she biting off more than she can chew! She may be trying to keep too many balls in the air and finding it impossible to maintain the balance between the various areas of her life. This card also represents feeling overwhelmed,overextending herself and lack of organisation. Reversed can signify that she is making poor choices (I think that it's something that has to do with her career or future) because she is under pressure and may be getting herself into more of a mess than she needs to.

Hopes and Fears

I got ✨Judgement reversed ✨ I'm feeling like she is afraid of what others are or will be being overly judgemental or critical of her and her choices or maybe even blaming her for something that wasn’t her fault. This card can also mean that there are times she lets fear and self-doubt take control of her situation and that might happen because of bad past experiences she had .

How to Release

✨Temperance reversed ✨ This can be more of a warning than anything she might have allowed things to get out of hand or became a control freak ! Whatever it's happening in her life this card can be advicing her to get it together or chill the heck out.Temperance reversed can also suggest that it’s time to make a decision. She has to stop waffling on matters. Shit or get off the pot.

Future

✨Seven of Swords and Seven of Pentacles ✨ With Seven of Swords card I'm seeing her working hard and strategically towards her goals , that can also mean that she'll have to kind of trick some people but not in anyway to harm them in anyway (at least from the energies I'm getting). This card together with Seven of Pentacles tells me that her strategical way of thinking and hard work will pay off and she'll get the success she wants after feeling that her ideas /plans will never work and be patient for some time .

Jung Hoseok's

Current Energy

✨Ace of Wands reversed ✨In a general context, the Ace of Wands reversed represents delays, setbacks and disappointing news. When it's reversed indicates that she might does not have any “get up and go” in her at the moment as it represents lack of initiative,passion,assertiveness, energy, enthusiasm, motivation, & growth. She may be stopping herself from progressing or be slow and hesitant about starting or trying anything new. It can also represent creative blocks, wasted talent or potential and missed opportunities. She need to start taking the bull by the horns again. Alternatively, this card can indicate that she's so passionate, enthusiastic and motivated that she's a little too intense for some people to handle.

Hopes and Fears

With the ✨Four of Pentacles ✨ I'm getting that she may be afraid that she is holding onto things in an unhealthy, possessive, controlling or toxic way or someone may be holding onto her in such a manner. It can indicate that she need to establish your boundaries or respect the boundaries of other people. The Four of Pentacles can also indicate that she is afraid or gets stressed when there's a lack of openness, blocking or obstructing progress, keeping to herself or the others keeping to themselves or a sense of isolation in her relationships . It can also represent her fear of becomes greed, addicted to materialism and penny pinching.

How to Release

✨​Justice reversed ✨This card tells her that it may be hard for her to see what way to go at this time. She has to hold off on making a decision and give herself more time to examine her options.

Future

✨The King of Swords reversed ✨ it seems like that if won't take the right decision about something her everyday life will become boring and she'll just have to follow a daily routine that won't make her happy . So at this time she has to think carefully with maturity and see her options carefully and when the time comes she'll be able to decide what is right for her and her future.

Park Jimin's

Current Energy

✨Ten of Wands✨This is the card for hard work and taking on more responsibility. She's trying not to lose sight of the bigger picture, and keep on remember why she is putting in all the efforts. She is feeling burned out and weight down. Ten of wands tarot card can also mean that she is unable to say no, and people are taking advantage of her.

Hopes and Fears

✨The Magician ✨She hopes that she has all the skills and abilities she need in order to be successful and that the universe is aligning to bring positive changes her way. This card also shows that she feels that she has to use her intellect, concentration and willpower to make things happen but she is afraid that she is not strong enough.

How to Release

✨Death reversed✨ She might thinking of making a change in an area of her life but this card reversed advices her not to rush because it may not be the right time for change. Perhaps she's not ready or the circumstances aren’t favorable at the moment. Whatever the case may be,she has to pause before taking action.This could also be pointing out resistance or fear blocking progress. If that is so, the advice it gives her is to confront those issues, even if only internally.

Future

✨Three of Wands reversed ✨Three of Wands tarot card reversed indicates that will be delays in rewards and payoffs in the future. The environment might get toxic which makes it hard for growth. People might not like what she is doing and try to put second thoughts in her mind so she should stay focus on her ideas and dreams and make them come to life .

Kim Taehyung's

Current Energy

✨Queen of Pentacles reversed ✨I feel like this girl has lost the balance of her life maybe in things that have to do with her work place or family but to be honest I'm getting family issues going on mostly.  This card indicates poor taste and lack of sensitivity to other people’s needs. What she has experienced or she still is has made her to be someone who expects everyone to work as hard as she does and make the same practical choices. Queen of pentacles reversed denotes that she feels very insecure and has an inability to share with others her thoughts an feelings.

Hopes and Fears

✨Ten of Pentacles reversed ✨ Again with this card I'm seeing that something that has happened to her family is causing fear and great stress , maybe she is afraid that it will happen again , that she'll have to experience again the same challenges . Also I'm sensing that she might feel insecure on the financial part of her life , maybe she and her family are going through financial problems or she could possibly be worried about that she won't be able to pay for her responsibilities. Lastly feel that she might is stressed about something , she is feeling like she doesn't have enough time to do something and rush.

How to Release

✨Eight of Wands reversed ✨Slow down! is the message I'm getting for her, There is no need to rush at this time. She has to take time out to examine her plans.There is still work that left to be done before she can proceed. Go back to the drawing board and get that finished first.If she keep on trying to move things along too quickly, she may make critical mistakes. She has to watch her step and don’t be impulsive at this time.

Future

✨Ace of Cups ✨In a general context, the Ace of Cups signifies new beginnings, usually in terms of love, empathy, compassion and/or happiness. When this Minor Arcana card appears it indicates that you will be feeling happy, positive and good about yourself. Soon it will be a great time to begin new friendships and get out there and socialise. People will be very receptive, kind and friendly to her. It can also be an indication of good news, celebrations coming her way and getting back her creativity.

Two more cards fell while doing the reading for her so I think they have some messages or guidance for her ! The cards are Ace of Pentacles and the Chariot. ✨Ace of Pentacles ✨If she's asking about a potential investment, the Ace of Pentacles says: go for it! Same if she's inquiring about a new job, financial offer, or relationship. Aces are often an affirmative.This card can also advise to give as much as she can. Be generous.Check in with her values. What’s important to her? What matters? She has to let that lead her decisions.The right path is open to her now ,go forth with confidence.Give as well as she receives and vice versa.✨ The Chariot ✨This card tells her to take the reins in her hands and move forward with confidence, trusting that she will reach her destination. The key is to remain focused ,set her intention and direct her will , let nothing distract her until the goal has been accomplished.The Chariot also says: take charge! Assume a position of control. Lead, don’t follow.This card can also be suggesting a need for restraint or self control. If she wish to overcome a problem, she may need to apply greater self control.The Chariot also can advise leaving a situation. It may be time to move on and chart a different course. She has to put the past in her rear view mirror and look forward!Finally, this can also be a reminder for her to stay the course and do not get pulled in too many different directions. Move on. Her Victory is ahead and waiting for her in the future!

Jeon Jungkook's

Current Energy

✨King of Pentacles reversed ✨ King of pentacles tarot card reversed indicates being too conservative. King of pentacles reversed indicates difficulties in making the necessary changes. Falling behind is likely. King of pentacles reversed is likely to be a miser and a hoarder. This is someone who expects the best but lets others have the worst. Neglect of hygiene and poor health is indicated when King of pentacles shows up reversed. Her stubbornness and fear prevent positive change.

Hopes and Fears

✨The Hierophant ✨This card often denotes confusion about feelings because she feels that she needs to seek a deeper meaning in her life and this has priority over personal relationships , maybe that causes her stress. Also the Hierophant tarot card speaks of spiritual love and love that grows stronger with time. The Hierophant speaks of love that grows stronger by sharing a spiritual path maybe she's hopes that what she is feeling is true and at the same time she is afraid that she is depending on illusions.

How to Release

✨The Chariot ✨Like Taehyung's spouse she has to take the reins in her hands and move forward with confidence, trusting that she will reach her destination. The key is to remain focused. Set her intention and direct her will. Let nothing distract her until the goal has been accomplished.This card can also be suggesting a need for restraint or self control. If she wish to overcome a problem(maybe a phycological one or a past trauma), she may need to apply greater self control.The Chariot also can advise leaving a situation. It may be time for her to move on and chart a different course. Put the past in her rear view mirror and look forward!

Future

I got ✨King of Wands reversed and Five of Cups ✨In a general context, the King of Wands reversed can indicate that she'll lack the energy, experience or enthusiasm to accomplish what she has set out to achieve at this time. She'll be taking a back seat and will not being proactive in her life. She may feel that will not up to the task or won't be able to give away her power and setting a bad example for those who will look up to her. She may be worrying about other people’s opinion of her and she will may be afraid to be different or step outside of her comfort zone. She'll might also push people away from her and she'll end up feeling lonely. And that's something that the Five of Cups card comes to clarify here since the meaning of this card are the feeling of loneliness and disappointment (from the people she actually pushes away maybe unconsciously but she'll won't blame herself about it ). Lastly this card in a work-related situation that I feel like she already has some problems will worsen somehow!She'll might not be getting the recognition she deserve, or maybe even someone else is getting rewarded for her work and that will also make her feel disappointed and drained.

[contemplativepancakes]

of stolen shirts and sorrow

4.5k hurt/comfort, happy ending. read on ao3 here.

Blood bubbles up between Geralt’s splayed fingers. He presses down as hard as he can without risking causing more damage. Jaskier moans faintly, and Geralt tries not to panic. 

He fails. 

It wasn’t supposed to be Jaskier that was in harm’s way, it was supposed to be him, should have been him lying on the ground with his blood seeping into the dirt, but they had been caught unaware, and there had barely been time for Geralt to unsheathe his sword before Jaskier had cried out beside him. 

Jaskier had stayed standing long enough for Geralt to dispatch the werewolf with a vicious slice of his sword, blood spraying from its carotid as it fell to the ground and twitched. There wasn’t time for anything with more finesse. Geralt took a moment to feel sorrow that he had to kill it when his intention had been to come here to cure it, but it had been snarling and advancing towards Jaskier again, and Geralt couldn’t take any more chances.

Geralt whirled to Jaskier, and Jaskier dropped to the ground, sitting down hard and looking pale. Geralt’s eyes shot down to where he was clutching his stomach, blood dripping through his fingers and staining them red. Geralt whipped his head around to be sure there wasn’t anything else waiting for him to drop his guard before he sank to his knees beside Jaskier, helping him lie back.

Now, Geralt takes a deep breath, trying to center himself, before scrabbling at Jaskier’s clothes, ripping his shirt open so that he can better assess the damage, and he can almost hear Jaskier making a quip about it, pouting that he liked that shirt, Geralt! But Geralt’s not sure that he’s ever going to be hearing Jaskier’s voice again, because the wound is even more severe than he thought now that he’s looking at Jaskier’s bare torso. 

A grunt comes from Jaskier again, determined to prove Geralt wrong even with the color starting to drain from his lips, and Geralt’s mind races, thinking about how he’s ever going to fix this. This is too much for him to solve alone, he thinks. He eyes the growing pool of blood worriedly, knowing how much blood someone can lose before they teeter off the cliff of no return, and Jaskier is closer than Geralt would like to admit. There’s no sign of the bleeding stopping anytime soon, so he further rips Jaskier’s shirt into wide strips to tie around the wound, hoping it’ll help staunch the bleeding. 

He bites his lip and picks Jaskier up, hoping he’s making the right choice, and not one he’s going to regret while staring at a tombstone, but Geralt tries to block out the worry. Jaskier needs him right now, and Geralt has to focus on that.

He clicks his tongue, and Roach approaches him skittishly. Geralt drapes Jaskier over her rump, settling him so he won’t fall off or be jostled too much, because Geralt knows that is the last thing he needs right now. He wants to mount Roach and gallop away to help, but he has to go about this the right way. If he’s not fast enough, Jaskier will die, and if he’s too fast and Jaskier’s wound doesn’t manage to start to clot, he’ll die, too. Geralt takes a deep breath and absent mindedly runs his bloody hand through his hair, taking Roach’s reins in hand and leading her along the path at a fast walk. They’re close to the outskirts of Temeria; the proximity of the werewolf being why there was a contract in the first place. 

It had been killing a farmer’s sheep, but Geralt regrets coming here in the first place. Farm animals were certainly not a fair trade for Jaskier, who’s cool and clammy to Geralt’s touch, his breath coming in rapid wheezes. 

Geralt speeds his pace.

By the time he makes it to the walls of Temeria and shouts to the guards that he needs help, he needs their mage, Jaskier’s face is white and bloody covers Roach’s flank. It seems like the bleeding has slowed, so Geralt allows himself to take heart. “Go!” he shouts at the guard closest to him, who’s just standing there and staring uselessly.

The boy startles, because now that Geralt has taken a closer look, he can see that that’s what he is, a boy, and he’s probably never seen this much blood before. He turns on his heel and runs, and Geralt desperately hopes it’s for help and not to flee.

Geralt lifts Jaskier gently from Roach, who’s now prancing anxiously, and sets him flat on the ground. He takes a second to stroke Roach and murmur reassurances, and she settles a bit before he turns his attention back to Jaskier. He presses his hands over his hasty bandage, reapplying the pressure. He hears shouts in the distance, and he hopes Triss is on the way with her potions.

He looks back down at Jaskier, who has blood that’s starting to trickle out his mouth. He makes a wet gurgling noise, and Geralt wishes he could do more. All of his elixirs would be toxic to Jaskier and only make things worse, and he desperately hopes the metaphor doesn’t extend to himself, even though he thinks it does.

This never would have happened if Jaskier wasn’t with him. Geralt had argued with him, said werewolves were unpredictable, but Jaskier said he would be fine at their camp, thank you very much. Geralt could go and try to shove the potion down the werewolf’s jaws, and Jaskier would work on his latest ballad.

Jaskier had cut off his protests with a kiss, and Geralt found himself powerless in the face of that. The tangled threads between them had become even more twisted in the last month, with Jaskier finally getting fed up with Geralt and calling him an idiot before pulling him in and kissing him.

Geralt had been shocked. He had never dared to hope that Jaskier would ever return Geralt’s feelings, because who would love a mutant, but Jaskier had said that he’d say it however many times Geralt needed to hear it.

And now he might not ever hear it again.

All of a sudden, there are soft hands pushing Geralt out of the way, and Geralt resists until he realizes that it’s Triss, here to help Jaskier. Geralt slumps in relief and backs away, watches Triss hover her hands above the wound and pull small glass bottles from her satchel. He wraps a hand around his medallion, vibrating as Triss begins her work. He looks on helplessly while she mutters incantations and pours the contents of her bottles on the would until she takes a step back after what seems like an eternity. Jaskier’s breaths seem to be coming a bit easier. There’s no bloody foam around his mouth anymore, at least, so Geralt will take it.

“That should stop the bleeding and stabilize him for now. Let’s get him out of the street,” Triss says, pointing to the cart she arrived on.  

Geralt swallows hard and leans down, pushing some of Jaskier’s soft hair off his sweaty forehead before gathering Jaskier in his arms and lifting him into the cart, settling him on the straw. Geralt climbs in after him, sitting down and ignoring the way the straw scratches at his skin. Jaskier moans and clutches at Geralt’s hand.

Geralt’s heart clenches. “Hey,” he says, uncharacteristically soft, “it’s okay, all right?”

Jaskier squeezes his hand weakly. Geralt raises their linked hands to his mouth and kisses Jaskier’s knuckles. “You’re going to be fine.”

Geralt looks towards the front of the cart, and Triss jerks in her seat, caught staring. “I’m going to take care of him for you, Geralt,” she says softly.

The words get stuck in Geralt’s throat. He grunts and runs a hand down his face. Damn it. This is all his fault.

“What happened?” she asks.

“We were… fuck, we were trying to cure a werewolf. I should have never let him come with me, but I was going to make him stay well away from its hunting grounds, and it was supposed to be fine.” Geralt waves his hand, his eyes catching on the blood caked underneath his fingernails. “It was supposed to be fine,” he repeats helplessly.  

Triss puts a hand on his shoulder, and Geralt lets himself draw comfort from the touch. His heartbeat has finally started to slow again, but he can still smell the sour scent of his own distress, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. He slumps against the side of the cart.

By the time they make it to the castle, Geralt’s adrenaline is starting to crash, but he still gathers Jaskier in his arms again and carries him where Triss directs. He waves off the offers of help; his clothes are already bloody, anyway, no one else needs to ruin theirs.

He carries Jaskier up a spiral staircase before he reaches Triss’s chambers and settles Jaskier on the bed. “Can you undress him for me?” Triss asks, as she bustles around behind Geralt, her fingers flying as she mixes herbs and other ingredients together.

Geralt swallows hard. His fingers hover over the buttons of Jaskier’s shirt, but it feels wrong. They haven’t got this far yet, and Geralt doesn’t want this moment to be the one he associates with shedding Jaskier of his clothes.

He sighs and takes Jaskier’s shirt off, pinching the bloody thing between his fingers and letting it crumple to the ground. He’s going to burn it, if Jaskier lets him. Well, even if he doesn’t. Geralt doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to see it again without flinching, no matter how well of a repair job Jaskier does.

He undoes the laces of Jaskier’s trousers, so Triss can take a look at where the wound extends down his torso, but it stops at his waist, so that’s as far as Geralt goes. Triss hums her thanks as she starts to gently rub a poultice over the wound. “This will lessen the pain and keep him unconscious until his body regenerates enough blood,” she explains.

“How long will that be?” Geralt asks, resolutely not giving into the urge to fidget.

“A few days. Maybe a week. You’re lucky you got him here when you did.”

Geralt lets out a heavy breath through his nose. All his fault. “Hmm.”

Triss straightens up. “He’s going to be fine, Geralt. The wonders of magic, huh?” She nudges his shoulder. “He just needs rest, now.”

Triss leaves them, and Geralt takes a seat by the bed, looking over at Jaskier’s motionless body, save for the slight rise and fall of his bare chest. Geralt runs his fingers down Jaskier’s chest curiously, before jerking away like he’s been burned. He’d always wanted to know what Jaskier’s chest hair would feel like under his fingertips, but this isn’t how he wanted to find out.

Jaskier might have expressed his enthusiastic support for the idea of them while he was still able to walk and talk, but Geralt thinks he might have changed his tune by now. Why would he want to be around Geralt when all Geralt’s brought him is suffering and pain?

Jaskier could have had a very comfortable life by now, but instead he insists on traipsing around after Geralt. And look where it’s gotten him.

Geralt stands up, thinking very hard. His eyes drift to Jaskier’s ruined shirt on the floor, but he lets it lie. It’s unfair of him to do this to Jaskier. He’s keeping Jaskier in a sort of limbo, stopping him from having the normal life that he deserves. Jaskier should have someone who can take care of him better than Geralt. Geralt’s been doing a piss poor job of it so far.

Geralt steps towards the doorway before hesitating. This is for the best, but… He’d like a reminder of this, something he can look back on and remember just how full his life was, once. He remembers what it was like before Jaskier came along, and it’s almost unbearable to think of going back to that, but he has to. For Jaskier’s sake. What if the next time he dies? Geralt wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Geralt steps towards Jaskier’s pack, which has somehow migrated here. He supposes Triss brought it; she’s good for things like that. He digs through it until he finds a doublet that Jaskier doesn’t wear very often but is Geralt’s personal favorite. Geralt reasons that it’s the tales of his adventures that paid for the shirt, anyway, so really, Jaskier owes him this one small thing.

Geralt brings it up to his nose. It smells like Jaskier.

-

When Jaskier wakes, he’s alone. He tries to sit up, but there’s a sharp pain in his side that feels like someone tried to carve out his spleen. It gets even worse when the door opens, and there’s no sign of Geralt, just a woman he doesn’t know. Generally speaking, these sorts of things don’t tend to work out for him.

“Where’s Geralt?” he croaks, and it comes out as an accusation.

She casts her eyes upward, before looking back down at Jaskier. “He left.”

“What? Without me? Why? When is he coming back?” The questions bubble out of him without his permission.

The woman hesitates. “I… don’t know.”

“Come, he surely must have said something.”

“Geralt? Say something?” She gives him a wry grin.

Jaskier shakes his head. She’s right. “He didn’t say anything about returning?” he asks again, just to be sure before his heart sinks all the way to his feet.

She shakes her head.

This is all Jaskier’s fault. If he never would have gotten hurt, they would have still been travelling together, and Geralt wouldn’t have thought he was too much of a burden to drag along any longer. Melitele's tits. What is he going to do now?

-

Geralt scuffs his boot against a tree trunk while Roach looks on disapprovingly. “I know, I know,” he grumbles. “You miss him. But this is for the best.”

He’s not sure who needs more convincing: him or Roach.

He putters around, setting up his camp for the night and trying not to think of what Jaskier is doing now. His brain decides to seize on the werewolf instead, and Geralt sighs, sitting down heavily with his back against the tree. The bark is scratchy, and there’s a stone digging into his ass, but he doesn’t move. It’s just the start of what he deserves, anyway.

The werewolf should have been cured, it should have been them that Geralt rushed to town for care, not Jaskier. But now, because of his ineptitude, the werewolf is dead, and Jaskier almost died. The cure that sits in his satchel mocks him. He had mixed it together hopefully, with the best intentions, but it was worth fuck all in the end.

Roach paws at the ground, and Geralt knows his distress is making her nervous, but he just doesn’t have the energy to sort out his feelings right now. He pulls his cloak over his head and tries to sleep.

He’s unsuccessful, of course. His thoughts won’t stop stampeding through his head, and his ears are picking up on every sound of the night. This is one of the times when Jaskier would do his best to distract him.

They’d barely been together for a month before it all went awry, and this, this is why Geralt doesn’t get close to people. There’s nothing but misery in his future, and he dragged Jaskier into it.

Geralt smells a storm on the horizon, and he sighs. Typical.

-

Jaskier watches the rain outside, running his fingers over the droplets that race down the window. Triss had left him a few hours ago, telling him he could stay until he felt fully healed. He traces his fingertips over the wound; it’s hard to believe that it was life threatening with how well it’s looking now. Pink and tender to the touch, but a far cry from gushing blood like Triss had told him it was.

Triss had also told him that he woke up not fours hours after Geralt dumped him on her and fled. Triss didn’t put it like that, of course, but Jaskier can read through the lines well enough. He racks his brain back to the last thing he remembers. He can dimly recall teasing Geralt, sneaking Roach a sugar cube, and then things start to get blurry. There was a...snarl? He knows they were looking for a werewolf, but Jaskier wasn’t supposed to get anywhere close to it in the first place.

No wonder Geralt didn’t want him slowing him down anymore, if Jaskier’s intestines are just going to spill out of him at the first sign of danger. His side throbs at the reminder, and Jaskier gets up to rustle through his pack and find a shirt so he can cover his wound.

He’s looking for a particular shirt, one Geralt had always liked, because Jaskier’s not above a bit of self-flagellation when a breakup is still so fresh, but he can’t find it. Great. He had always saved it for special occasions, because life on the road tended to not be great for the longevity of his clothing, and now he’s gone and lost it.

It’s probably for the best anyway. He doesn’t need to dwell on the memories. But, it’s too soon for him to completely move on. Heartbreak is the best muse, and all that.

Jaskier unties his bundle of parchment and pulls out a clean sheet, along with his quill and inkwell. He dips his quill in ink, but no words come. He wants to write something scathing about Geralt, for leaving him behind like he’s worth nothing at all, but the lyrics don’t come as easily as the other ballads he’s written singing Geralt’s praise.

Jaskier stares at the page for a few more minutes, but all he manages to write is The. He scratches it out and sighs, pushing his paper aside.

-

Geralt drums his fingers and looks skeptically at the paper that’s just been slapped in front of him.

“There’s a pack of ghouls, right along the path to town. We’ve lost two supply wagons trying to pass through already!” the man tells him.

Geralt looks up at him, raising his eyebrows. “How do you know they didn’t just pocket your coin and disappear?”

The man throws up his hands in exasperation. “Are you going to take the job or not, Witcher?”

“Fine. I’ll look into it.”

In the end, it turns out not to be ghouls, but a graveir. Similar to ghouls, but larger, nastier, and venomous. Geralt rustles through his satchel, looking for the elixir that will cure it. He was off balance and too slow the entire fight, and now he’s paying for it. Geralt downs the elixir and yanks his fingers through his hair, trying to get rid of some of the guts. He attempts not to think of Jaskier.

When he makes it back to the inn where he’s staying, he takes a bath before he makes his way outside to the stables to check on Roach. He gives her a solid pat along her flank before he rustles through her saddle bags, where Jaskier’s shirt lives.

He brings it up to his nose. It smells like both of them, and now Geralt finally knows what it would have smelled like if he had let Jaskier get close enough for the scents to meld together. They’d been on their way there, for sure, but Geralt had had too many hang ups for it to truly go anywhere in the short amount of time they had where they both knew how the other felt before it all went to shit.

He takes it back up to his room and puts it beside his pillow, letting the scent soothe him to sleep.

-

Jaskier looks down at the ruined shirt in his hands. Money has been tight since Geralt left and all Jaskier’s inspiration followed him. He hasn’t written any new songs in months, and he thinks the crowds can pick up on his melancholia no matter how many cheerful songs he performs, because his takes have been pitiful. He supposes part of the problem might be the fact that he refuses to sing about Geralt, and those had always been his most well liked songs. Jaskier always skirts around any requests for them.

He scrubs at the shirt, trying to get the last traces of blood out of it. Once he’s successful, he pulls out his needle and thread. It’s so tattered that he’s going to have to patch it, but he’s always been good at starting new fashion statements. He replaces the ripped off buttons and pokes his tongue between his teeth as he selects the fabric for the patch.

-

Geralt’s not sure how much time passes before he allows himself to bring the shirt out again. Time seems meaningless, and he’s taken as many contracts as possible, trying to keep busy. Roach hasn’t been happy with him, and he knows he should let her rest, so that’s why he’s packed it in for the night. The break will do him good, as well, he supposes. Assuming he can actually manage to fall asleep, which is by no means assured.

He stares out at the swamp for an hour before he breaks down and pulls out the shirt. He takes a deep sniff. It smells like him. Only him. He flings it back down in disgust.

He gets up and pauses for a second before stooping down to pick up the shirt and stuff it back in the saddlebag. He ignores Roach’s snorts of displeasure as he gets her ready to move on.  

-

Jaskier walks along the road, trying not to cough as carriages pass him, kicking up dust in their wake. It’s not good for his vocal cords, but he hasn’t been doing much singing at all, these days, so he doesn’t let himself worry about it.

He trudges along, lyrics swirling through his mind, but the urge to stop and write them down doesn’t come to him. His toes throb from where they’re trapped in his shoes, adding to his body’s cacophony of complaints against him. He’s not sure what the next town is, but he’s more than ready to arrive.

Jaskier squints into the distance as he sees a bit of dust somewhere farther down the path. It’s moving towards him, but it’s not big enough for a caravan or even a singular carriage. It’s someone else walking alone, and Jaskier’s immediately put on guard.

His hand slips into his pocket, where he keeps his knife. He keeps his hand on it as he’s just able to make it the outline of a person dressed in all black in the distance. It feels like someone’s turned his knife on himself as it makes him think of Geralt.

The person is leading a horse, and Jaskier’s breath catches in his throat.

It can’t be… but as he gets closer, Jaskier can tell it is. He smooths his hands down his clothes uselessly and resists the urge to tame his hair into something that doesn’t look like a squirrel’s den.

He debates what to do. Geralt’s the one who left, so he must not want to see Jaskier, must be upset at this unhappy little coincidence, even if Jaskier is desperate for any sight of Geralt he can get.  

Jaskier’s set to walk past him, his eyes on his feet, just a fleeting glimpse up to satisfy his curiosity—it’s plausible to say he didn’t recognize Geralt, right?—when a hand lands on his elbow.

“Why in the fuck are you wearing that shirt?” Geralt asks, and it’s such an odd question that it stops Jaskier in his tracks.

“What?” He looks down at himself.

He’s wearing the shirt he patched, and he huffs in offense. He thought he did a fine repair job. He shoulders Geralt out of the way and keeps walking.

“Wait, Jaskier,” Geralt says, and it’s the closest to a plea he’s ever heard Geralt get. He stops.

“How are you?” Geralt breathes.

Jaskier just stares at him in confusion. He’s not sure what Geralt’s aim is. How is he? “How do you think I am?” he snaps.

Geralt looks cowed, and Jaskier feels bad for a fleeting moment before he remembers Geralt is the one who should be contrite. It was Geralt who left him high and dry when he needed him most.

Geralt swallows hard, and Jaskier follows his line of sight to see that Geralt’s focused on where the scar in his side is.

He lifts up his shirt so Geralt can see, forgetting to be angry for a second. “It’s healed up very nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Jaskier looks back at Geralt, but Geralt’s just staring at the scar with a haunted look. “I’m fine, Geralt,” he says in exasperation. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have been dead.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you would never have been in that situation in the first place.”

A realization starts to dawn on Jaskier. “Did you—is that why you left?”

Geralt glances down.

“Geralt, if it wasn’t for you, a cuckolded husband would have most definitely done me in before then.”

“But—”

“I’m serious,” Jaskier says, putting his hands on his hips. “You don’t get to make choices like that for me. We make them together, okay? I’ve been miserable.”

“Me, too,” Geralt grumbles, and Jaskier’s surprised at the admission.  

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled, then. You didn’t have to drag it out for so long, you know.”

It seems like Jaskier shouldn’t be letting Geralt off the hook this easily, but he’s been nothing but desolate since Geralt left. He’s sick of waiting.

His magnanimity only extends so far, though, so Jaskier brushes past Geralt to pet Roach, trying to contain his smirk at the look on Geralt’s face. Jaskier pets the soft velvet of Roach’s nose, and she bumps his hand when he stops.

He rustles around in Roach’s saddlebags, looking for a treat for her. His hand brushes past some soft fabric. That’s odd; Geralt doesn’t keep any of his clothes in this saddle bag. He pulls it out, gaping at what’s in his hand. “What’s this?”

Geralt scratches the back of his neck. “I wanted a reminder of you,” he admits in a small voice.

Jaskier’s grin turns smug. Geralt was always saying how impractical his clothing was. “I thought my shirts were foolish?”

If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d say there’s a blush on Geralt’s cheeks right now. “I never said that.”

“You absolutely did. Do you take it back?”

Geralt grunts, stepping into Jaskier’s space and wrapping him in a hug. “No.”

Jaskier pouts, and the resulting laughter from Geralt is something that he wants to keep hearing for the rest of his life. He hopes Geralt gives him the chance.  

thank you @witcher-and-his-bard for the idea and the read over! <3 it is definitely your fault that this got so angsty, i take no responsibility

[featherfall-tarot]

What gifts are coming your way

* And what barriers are slowing you down

Pile 1 Pile 2

Dolphin Squid

Pile 3

Starfish

————————————

Pile 1

So for those of you who have chosen the dolphin, congratulations, y’all are the lucky ones. You guys are very special, and I don’t mean that to toot your horns, or butter and if your biscuits. I mean that in terms of gifts, you guys are the gifts, for many people, at least you will be. You all have the power to create the life of your dreams, but your holding yourself back from success.

I’m seeing that you’re someone who’s talented in a certain or multiple fields, good enough to possibly even share what you know. You could be super creative or even a dancer or artist. Either way you are your worst enemy in this particular situation.

I see that your lack of trust, both in yourself and of the universe is contributing to your blockage of success. You need to let go of useless and self-sabotaging thought patterns and behaviors. There’s nothing you can’t handle, take a leap of faith and trust in your abilities and believe in the possibility that the impossible can be made possible.

You’re meant to be a leader of some kind, guiding others through the actions that you take. Think of the phrase “Do as I say, not as I do”, however in your case actions far exceed the weight of words pile 1. You guys got this, you got the power, believe in the best version of yourself and create him, her or them. The sky isn’t the limit for y’all, it’s just a pit stop, good luck. 😁

————————————

Pile 2

If y’all chose the squid, I’m sorry, ur not gonna like me for this, so again sorry I’m advance. However y’all chose this pile sooo…..

I’m seeing here that you guys have a MAJOR problem with people pleasing and codependency and may potentially have an addiction to relationship hopping. So obviously the solution as well as the gift here is to to become more independent.

You may be suffering from a lack of a father figure or may be dealing with cheating in your relationships; And dude look out for toxic friendships as well. Honestly just review your entire circle, there’s too much dirt surrounding your life.

You need to trash toxic people out of your life and realign with what it is you really want and who it is that your are. Spirit isn’t saying that it’ll be easy, or that it’ll be quick, expect this to take time, expect this to be lonely and expect this to hurt. But it’ll be worth it in the end when you can enjoy being in your own skin and enjoy being around people who enjoy being around you.

Don’t give up y’all

————————————

Pile 3

Pile 3, guys, we really need to talk. Do you want some tea, a cookie, a hug? Are you sure, cause I think ya need it. Are your shoulders sore? They must be from all of the weight your carrying around. You can let that go, it’s perfectly fine to let people drown in their own mistakes and problems. The only person you are responsible for saving is yourself, and your children if you have any, but even then only to a point.

This reading could last a lifetime but let’s get into it. You come from a background of strife and chaos and constant arguing and betrayal. This forced you to shrink yourself for protection and become different versions of yourself depending on the environment. This caused you to become a peacekeeper.

I see here that you’re ready to let go of this energy and walk away, but you’re reluctant. It’s OK, it’s not your fault, you don’t know how, you were never given the right tools. I get that you feel as though you can’t see a clear way out and you feel as though it’s out of reach. Others may have noticed that you’re thinking of changing and may try to bully you into submission, but don’t let them.

Spirit is guiding you to create a new beginning, but to do this you have to release the old and the negative, and that which no longer serves you in reaching your highest goals. You really need to protect your energy from this who seek to steal it from you; Call it back. Let go of any negative self beliefs you’ve been programmed with and connect with who you are. This will be the beginning to the end of the cycle you came from and show you the light at the end of the tunnel.

BEST WISHES PILE 3

[waffles-for-brunch]

This project began as an indirect response to a few negative tweets in the days following the Valentine's Day Destiel wedding. During such time that “certain sources” chose to speak against the impromptu "wedding" and state that the direction of the show never included sexuality or romance. Since this argument has sparked a bit of discourse as to the validity of Dean Winchester and Castiel's relationship and sexualities, I began this edit as an exploration of observations throughout the entire 15 season run of the series. (That's not to say that Sam does not also have his own impactful romances throughout the show -he does have several notable ones- but in his case they are never debated upon or erased.)

There are three complete edits linked below. The differences are explained in their descriptions. (I also recommend downloading for best quality rather than simply watching in the browser, but it’s your choice)

BiDeanEdit: (Click here to download)

Runtime: 18:04:44

File Size: 10.0 GB (10,741,415,805 bytes)

Series long compilation edit (in sequence) of Dean Winchester and Castiel’s relationships and intended expressions of their sexualities (ie interest in both genders). This edit focuses on their relationship as it develops with one another, their other notable relationships (DeanxBenny, CasxMeg, DeanxLisa, etc), and the framework around their sexualities with small scenes of expression (ie Dean in ‘Playthings’ or ‘Everybody Hates Hitler’, or early seasons Dean & his transgressions with women, or Cas in ‘Caged Heat’)

BiDeanMLMEdit: (Click here to download)

Runtime: 14:40:57

File Size: 8.05 GB (8,649,798,685 bytes)

Series long compilation edit (in sequence) of Dean Winchester and Castiel’s relationships and intended expressions of their sexualities. This one is the same as the last but with only MLM content (Otherwise referred to as ‘only the gay parts’). We focus on this more repressed side of their sexuality and see these clues laid out altogether in one fluid edit (these examples are also available in the previous edit, however are just not aligned beside any heterosexual content). DeanxCrowley, DeanxBenny, DeanxLee, DeanxCas, etc. 

DestielOnlyEdit: (Click here to download)

Runtime: 13:08:49

File Size: 7.17 GB (7,709,560,696 bytes)

Series long compilation edit (in sequence) of only Destiel related content. The same as the above edit, just simplified even more to only focus on Dean and Cas’ relationship over the years. 

Keep reading below to find my full analysis of the complete edit regarding these guys sexualities, relationships, and the parallels we can draw. 

To understand why it is that so many queer fans of Supernatural and other similar shows read queerness in characters and their relationships, we should look at the hays code established in 1930. At this time this certain code was established to monitor what was allowed to be depicted outright on film. Within the margins of what was to be stifled, was homosexuality. As such, filmmakers had to plant “queer-coded” seeds into the writing and subtext so that queer audiences watching could interpret these characters and relationships in this manner without the words and actions stating so outright. (At this time homosexuality could be depicted on film as long as said gay character was either a villain, caricature, or met an untimely end- feeding into the blossoming of the kill-your-gays trope. But that’s another topic for a later time.) 

As film changed over the years and times became more accepting of lgbt characters portrayals on screen outside of simple coding, this did not make the code obsolete. Queer-coding and queer-baiting are often used in media in present day as a way to pull in viewership. Networks are able to garner the best of both worlds, in a sense. They can draw in heterosexual audiences that may not want to watch queer media, whilst also drawing in queer audiences by coding some characters and relationships just enough to pull those viewers in. This works simply because there is such a lack of queer representation in most media that we’ll take what we can get. 

This is where Supernatural comes in. There is a reason that Supernatural and thus “Destiel” is known by some as “The Great American Queerbait.” This twelve years long gay slow-burn between one overly masculine character and his awkward angel best friend did not begin with the intention of romance or baiting, as many of these things generally don’t. However, once fans realized the chemistry between these two particular actors and characters, it became something blatantly written into the show. Sometimes jokingly, other times as legitimate moments of emotional intimacy between two characters. So to say that the show’s direction never included sexuality or romance is, to put it bluntly, bullshit. Just because something is not written in clear and concise wording right in your face, does not mean that it is nonexistent and that the writers did not know what they were writing into the show. (Not even to mention the actual love confession in 15x18, but I digress). 

We know very well that queer content has been written subtextually into media for the better part of seventy years. It is a language in media just as much as lighting is a language, just as much as certain camera angles, color design in costumes or set decor, and music design are languages. All of these, outside of the simple words said on screen, make up our media and these characters and our shows. Tv is a world of color, not black and white.

[[ further readings on the above topics: X X X X X ]] 

I decided upon this full edit encompassing both the female and male aspects of Dean Winchester and Castiel’s relationships & sexualities because oftentimes when we’re looking into potentially queer characters we tend to focus on the same sex attraction and neglect the opposite sex attraction. Both are very important to acknowledge and compare, if at the very least to view where they may overcompensate, where toxic masculinity may come into play, compulsory heterosexuality, trauma responses, etc. Sometimes what a character doesn’t do is just as important to interpret as what they do do. 

For instance, Dean Winchester. If we are to operate under the assumption that he is bisexual, any repression we witness throughout the series as to his male attraction is likely to be a result of his difficult upbringing, similar to most queer identifying people with childhood trauma. His father is a marine, the picture of manliness in which Dean himself blatantly embodies in an effort to impress and make his father proud in any way he can. Dean is already unlikely to seek out activities in any aspect of life of which might make John look at him in a different light (ie, in an every day setting, even simply watching Finding Dory- this is not something S1 Dean would have admitted to liking, but we see Dean in later seasons standing up for himself and his appreciation for it). 

Is it perhaps for this reason that we see Dean as an overly blatant and flirty ladies man in season 1 when John is still alive, while this side of him steadily declines as the series continues? It even becomes established in season 3- in light of Dean’s fears surrounding going to Hell, he enters an attitude for coping that Sam recognizes- hypermasculinity, promiscuity, deflection. Heightening the idea that this caricature of himself that he embodies is a mask that he wears in order to cope with something else. He is donning the image he assumes others think he should fit into. Sam calls him out on this through the years, and eventually this becomes something we see in him less and less as he feels more comfortable simply being himself. 

If we take into account the time of which this first season is filmed, this is 2005, a time where gay jokes were still funny and an overcompensating character was a joke attached to it. We see Dean built up in these first couple of seasons through this lens of jokes about a hyper-masculine character being mistaken for gay, however instead of this building up the masculinity to encourage a raging heterosexual characterization, this overcompensation is exactly what inadvertently sows the seeds of queer-coding. To queer watchers this reads as a deeply repressed character with childhood trauma who overcompensates when faced with observations of gayness and uses hypermasculinity to counteract these accusations. 

It is through circumstances such as “Bugs” in S1 or “Playthings” in S2 that we first see these ‘jokes.’ The brothers are mistaken as a gay couple. Dean being the more “masculine’ of the two characters has a blatant reaction to these situations (Overcompensating), and Sam’s lack of a reaction is what solidifies his own straightness all the more. Neither brother is homophobic (this becomes established as time goes on) so why would either have a problem with this mistake? Sam wouldn’t care because he’s clearly not gay- in fact, he usually just laughs it off. Dean would care because he wonders what about him looks gay? Do other people see it too? Do they know? What’s wrong with him? 

We also see another blatant example of this type of freakout in season 8. “Everybody Hates Hitler.”

(Images: “Playthings” S2xE11)

(Image below: S8 “Everybody Hates Hilter”)

We frame these situations in early seasons around girl of the week scenarios and brief bar flirtations. Have to make it clear that our manly straight character looks as manly and straight as possible. Dean is also in his 20s, he’s more carefree/not as traumatized yet, and he is a sexual man so he does sleep around quite a bit. What is notable, however, is how much this drops off in later seasons. As time goes on Dean seeks out less and less the fleeting encounters of one night stands, in favor of genuine connections- even if he himself frequently doubts his own ability to ever have a settle-down type of relationship or life. Lisa is the only long-term female romantic relationship Dean ever has throughout the series run, and this tentatively begins in season 5 and ends in season 6. 

Dean and Lisa’s relationship is founded more in a dream of something that Dean wants to be rather than who he actually is. Although he loves her, their bond is made through trauma and their relationship overall is reminiscent of a soldier who returned home from war with heavy PTSD and begins to burden the family that he will come to realize he doesn’t quite fit within anymore. 

Outside of this, his closest relationships from thereon out are between Benny, and Castiel. 

Let’s start with Benny. Throughout season 8 Benny is framed as an ex and his relationship with Dean directly parallels Sam and Amelia’s. Both brothers must confront their relationships with their ‘significant others’ and decide whether to cut them off or proceed. Both brothers found these people under circumstances in which they did not get along with them at first but were pushed together. Another person comes in the middle of their relationship (Amelia’s husband for Sam, or Cas/Sam for Benny). The brothers each resent the other’s significant other or the circumstances surrounding the relationship. Sam hates Benny because he is a vampire and Sam does not understand why Dean continually trusts him (which is a circumstance inherently queer-coded in itself for comparability to an unaccepting family). Dean does not care for Amelia simply for the fact that Sam chose her over looking for him in purgatory.

Other instances we see parallels between Sam’s romances and Dean’s:

“Sex and Violence” S4 siren: Nick(Siren)/Dean parallel to Sam/Dr Lady

Season 4: Ruby/Sam and Cas/Dean teamup parallels

S1 Dean pulling Sam from the fire away from Jess vs S12 Sam pulling Dean away from Cas who may die approaching Lucifer to fight

Season 8: Dean/Benny vs Sam/Amelia. Dean and Benny, since they’re essentially going through a breakup, are directly paralleled to Sam and Amelia and their breakup. See “Larp and the Real Girl” for Charlie and Dean’s conversation about Sam’s recent breakup and Charlie picking up on the fact that Dean might also be going through one. 

1x05 vs 8x07: Sam seeing Jessica on the sidewalk as they drive down the street vs Dean seeing Cas on the side of the road as he drives down the street

S11: Perhaps this one can be interpreted loosely and not necessarily romantic (esp on Sam’s end), but “O’ Brother Where Art Thou” both brothers are drawn to forces they actively fight against being drawn to. SamxLucifer and DeanxAmara. 

S11: “Beyond the Mat” not a relationship but with crushes/infatuations. Dean with Gunner Lawless and Sam with Rio. 

S15: Cas telling Dean that “We Are” real. vs Eileen being unsure what’s real and Sam kissing her and saying “I know that was real.”

S15: “The Trap” Dean loses all hope following the death of their friends and primarily Cas. Sam loses hope after Eileen’s death. Directly paralleled in the episode. (We also see Sam lose Eileen in 15x18, where Dean also loses Cas)

Additional parallels between Dean/Cas with anyone else:

Season 9/10: Cain/Colette vs Dean/Cas. “She only asked for one thing. To stop.” vs Cas asking Dean to “Stop”. Both circumstances referring to the Mark of Cain.

S12 “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets” Lily (human)/Isham (angel) vs Dean (human)/ Cas (angel)

Led Zeppelin: This music means something within John/Mary’s relationship, which Dean directly acknowledges in 12x01 with Mary. We find out Dean has gifted Cas a mixtape of his “Top 13 Zepp Traxx” in 12x19. (the implications of Dean having made a mixtape for Cas, being its own point in a different discussion)

When Lucifer contacts a person to try and get them to open up to him, he uses their dead lover as a ploy. SamxJess, NickxSarah, VincexJen, DeanxCas - 15x19 when Lucifer calls Dean using Cas’ voice. 

The parallels of unreciprocated love/infatuation. DeanxCrowley and CasxHannah. Dean likes Crowley but clearly not the way that Crowley likes Dean. Cas likes Hannah like a friend or sister, but she keeps putting the moves on him for awhile and he appears deeply uncomfortable and has to shoot her down more than once. 

Parallels between Dean’s own relationships:

Dean in “Let it Bleed” torturing demons to find the location of Lisa and Ben vs Dean in Purgatory torturing monsters to find the location of Cas “The angel”

“The Rapture” opens in Dean’s dream which Cas visits and says he’s in trouble and gives Dean an address to go to immediately. “The Song Remains The Same” opens in Dean’s dream which Anna visits and says she’s in trouble and gives Dean an address to go to immediately. 

S6 Dean dodging calls from Lisa vs S12 Dean dodging Cas at the beginning of “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets” (notable also how Sam treats both circumstances the same)

S11: “Into the Mystic” 11x11 Mildred tells Dean the key to living a long and happy life is to follow your heart. Later in the season “All in the Family” 11x21 When Casifer is still captured by Amara, she puts her hand to Cas’ heart and is able to connect with Dean to contact him. Hinting at the link between Cas and Dean’s “hearts.” 

Not necessarily a parallel but an observation. 7x01 when Cas is loaded up on God juice, and Dean has given up but Sam hasn’t and wants to talk to ‘the guy’, Dean says, “He’s not a guy, he’s God.” But in 11x18 Dean refuses to give up on Cas and let him continue to be possessed. Sam keeps speaking about Cas like he’s just a vessel and Dean says, “It? It’s not an it, Sam. It’s Cas.” Mostly this shows the development of their relationship and Dean’s willingness to continue to fight for him. 

Dean’s dream world with Pamela in S14, she says to Dean “How come you only want what you can’t have?” and in S15 during Cas’ confession scene he says to Dean, “The one thing I want, is something I know I can’t have.”

Before we delve into Dean and Castiel specifically, let’s explore a few more things regarding Dean. 

Let’s start with Cassie. This is Dean’s first romantic relationship we see on the show, and is arguably his first love. What is notable about her is her characterization and Dean in relation to her. We haven’t seen him in a relationship before, and thus this is the baseline to which we can draw how he is in this type of vulnerable state.

We see here that he is drawn to strong individuals. Cassie is a very strong willed character and can hold her own. She has a boldness about her. Dean appreciates that. We see similar in his next framed love interest: Jo Harvelle. Jo is another strong character, and though Dean sees her more as someone he needs to protect because she doesn’t have as much experience under her belt, he respects her intellect and strong will all the same. They connect through a love for hunting and mutual daddy issues. Personally, this is a relationship I view more as a little sister dynamic in a similar vein to Dean and Charlie, however this pairing is still worth noting because as it was written it was intended to potentially flourish into a romantic relationship. This did not pan out, though the seeds are still there. 

Next up is Anna. Again daddy issues are a solid connection these two hold, and while this relationship is more of a one-night-stand than anything else, there are still important points to be taken from this encounter. The first is just how much Dean cares. We don’t see very many sex scenes with Dean throughout the series, but of the ones we do see, it is apparent that he is a gentle and tender man. He cares. About even a single night with a woman. (Cassie, Anna, Lydia ’The Slice Girls”) This is a contrast to Dean’s general persona of the masculine straight promiscuous lady’s man. He has all the bravado of a man who ‘loves em and leaves em’, but in reality that is not who he is. This is another example of the faces Dean wears in front of certain people (and what he thinks they expect of him), and the person he is once he lets that mask fall. 

It may be important to note as well that Anna, (it is rumored) was originally meant to be more to Dean than this simple one night stand and connection. She was intended to become a romantic interest but, as it turned out, Dean and Cas had more chemistry so the arc that Anna was meant to follow was instead given to Castiel. 

It is another year until the apocalypse comes along, Sam dies, and Dean falls back into Lisa’s lap. While Lisa is another strong-willed woman who rolls with the punches, her lifestyle deviates from Dean’s usual romantic interests simply because of her offering of a normal life outside of everything he’s usually known. A life with her is dipping his toe into a life he could have had if he didn’t hold the weight of the world on his shoulders and hunt the things that go bump in the night.

This is Dean’s last “official” relationship of the series. After putting Lisa and Ben in danger by being someone that he cares about, Dean accepts that he’s simply not a guy that can have a normal life or a normal family. He cares about people and they get hurt. This is a weight he holds on his shoulders for the remainder of the show. He loves someone, or more accurately, they love him, and they’ll get hurt. End of story. It doesn’t help that immediately following this, Castiel “dies” too. 

Maybe it’s Lisa, maybe it’s Cas. Maybe it’s a combination of the two at this point in time, but Dean is never again the same when it comes to relationships after these events at the end of season 6. He becomes more cautious, tries to keep people an arm’s length away, and we even begin to see less and less promiscuity and flirting with miscellaneous women from this point on. 

Let’s talk about Castiel.

Although Dean has had various queer-coded moments throughout the beginning of the series and up to Castiel’s entrance in season 4, his minimal relationships up to this point have all been with women. Simply exploring the evolution of this relationship from Dean’s side of the picture, Dean doesn’t start to truly warm up to Castiel until perhaps the end of season 4. He begins the season unsure of the angel, perhaps even a bit afraid of him, before the two garner a sort of mutual respect as Dean begins to see that there’s more to him than simply an agent of heaven.

They’re friends in season 5. The quirky, strange angel that doesn’t understand social cues, stands too close, stares too much, and says things like “we’re making it up as we go” and “tonight you’re my little bitch.” He’s a far cry from the ethereal entity that showed up in Bobby’s kitchen just a year ago and threatened to toss Dean back into Hell. What really turns the curve, however, is “The End.” 

5 years in the future in the midst of an apocalyptic war, Cas is still around. He’s human and he’s stuck by Dean’s side through it all, even though this Dean is just a shadow of his former self. Then again, so is this Cas. But still, they stuck together. Dean isn’t used to that. He has very few people that have stuck by him for this many years. Could probably count them all on one hand at this point. Bobby and Sam at the top of the list. Everyone else either dies or leaves. And in this future, Bobby and Sam are dead, but Cas is still there.  

Dean has abandonment issues. His mother died when he was four, his dad was in and out emotionally and physically his entire upbringing, Sam left for Stanford the first chance he got. He’s got strings of dead friends and lost relationships surely in tow for years at this point, and half the time Dean has become accustomed to pushing people away before they have a chance to push him away first. (Ie Cassie, Lisa, often even Sam too at times). Cas won’t make these issues any better during their run together, but up to this point Cas hasn’t let him down. The simple fact that in this one future universe Cas had stuck by him, I’m sure that makes a big difference to Dean and actually may be imperative for their relationship going forward and the trust that forms between them. 

Something that becomes a large part of their relationship is Cas and Dean’s ability to have conversations with just their eyes. This is a shorthand that Dean is known to have with Sam on occasion, especially during times of combat. It takes a certain amount of intimacy and knowledge of the other person to be able to have a shorthand like this. The first instance we see this between them is quite possibly “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester,” when Dean convinces Cas that they can save the town. We see it again in the ‘beautiful room’ when Cas slams Dean up against the wall and Dean seems to understand what’s happening. Another instance, “The Song Remains the Same.” In a way, it’s a locking of eyes that just seems to say “trust me,” and they do. 

Sam wonders if Anna may be right. If killing him and scattering the pieces will stop this whole Lucifer vessel business. Sam asks Cas, Cas looks to Dean, they share a look, and Cas shuts Sam down. In all likelihood that plan could have worked, but Cas wouldn’t do that Dean. He wouldn’t do it to Sam either but at this point he’ll do anything at all for Dean. 

If we take a moment to consider Dean and Cas’ relationship here, it is unlike any of Dean’s previous ones. Dean never has this same kind of shorthand with any of his other relationships, save for possibly Benny to a certain extent. Cas is an odd guy, and Dean frequently describes him as such, but he finds it endearing (if “Free to be You and Me” is any indication this early in their relationship). The previous women in his life all had the same thing in common, that they’re strong willed, brave, and don’t put up with Dean’s shit when he’s being a shit. Cas does fit all this criteria, but he’s also someone that Dean has a hard time reading. Cas is so literal sometimes that Dean can’t tell what’s literal, what’s deadpan, and what’s just Cas’ personality as an angel. But at the end of the day, simply put, he likes him and he trusts him. Getting Dean Winchester’s full trust as quickly as Cas gets it is an anomaly all on its own. 

Dean’s female relationships are fairly surface level. They’re easy and fairly uncomplicated. Boy likes girl, girl likes boy. Girl gets mad at boy, relationship ends. Easy. Expected. His relationship with Cas isn’t easy. But the big endgame relationships seldom are. There’s blood, loss of trust, rebuilding, and there’s a pull that at the end of the day always brings them back to one another no matter how incredibly messy things get.  

And boy do things get messy. If we touch back into the end of season 6 where things end with Lisa and blow up with Cas, Dean is at an all time low in the relationship department. 

Dean takes Cas’ betrayal hard. Breakups are one thing. Leaving Lisa was expected. It was bound to happen eventually. Dean always knew that somewhere inside. He mourns leaving them, but knows it’s for the best. But with Cas’ betrayal at working with Crowley, he’s devastated all over again. 

Dean never expects his relationships to last forever, but again there’s a choice few people in his life he lets take up space on the list of those who might stick around. Bobby, Sam, Cas. I don’t think Lisa was ever on this list, as much as Dean wishes he could tell himself she and Ben were. But they weren’t. That relationship was a ticking time bomb. And when they nearly die because of his life and the creatures surrounding him every day, that’s the end of it.

Fast forward, season 7 is a time of mourning. He’s lost Lisa and Ben, he gets Cas back for all of 30 minutes before losing him all over again and never being able to repair that relationship. But he keeps the trenchcoat. Fishes it out of the lake, bundles it up, and keeps it in the back of every single car that he and Sam drive that year. 

Dean doesn’t keep mementos. Not of Cassie, not of Jo, Not of Anna, or even Lisa and Ben. No pictures, no items, just memories. You know what he does keep? He keeps his dad’s leather jacket, Bobby’s flask, pictures of he and Sam and his mom. Is keeping the trenchcoat in the back of the car for a year similar to those familial keepsakes? Maybe. But it’s also more than that. It’s covered in blood and lake water, and I’m sure Dean would explain it away that Cas was family and that’s why he kept the coat. Probably even believes that too. 

Then we have purgatory. 

Dean prays to Cas every night. He could get out of that place just on his own, but he stays there for months in full combat just to look for the angel and get him out with him.

“First we find the angel”

“Cas, we’re gettin’ out of here. We’re going home.”

“Cas, buddy, I need you.”

“Let me bottom line it for you. I’m not leaving here without you. Understand?”

“Cas, we’re gonna shove your ass back through the eye of that needle if it kills all three of us.”

“It’s gonna work. Nobody gets left behind.”

When we meet Benny, Dean’s only other primary male pairing of consequence, he is not trusted. This team-up is one of strategy and a mutual goal only- at least at first. Dean and Benny fight well side by side, but the trust only runs so far. That is, until during one particular fight with leviathans in which Cas nearly bites it, Benny saves the angel’s life. This is the main turning point for Dean’s entire trust in Benny from here on out. 

“Benny has never let me down.” Dean says later to Sam. And he never did. He saved Cas, got Dean out of purgatory, and then later on he gets himself sent back to purgatory just so he can help Dean’s brother get out of there. 

Dean and Benny’s relationship was “pure” in purgatory. They didn’t have to worry as much about the fact that Benny was a vampire and Dean was a hunter, they were just brothers in arms who earned one another’s trust, respect and love. There’s no way you let a man kill you and send you to purgatory to save his brother if you don’t love him. 

 Their relationship once they broke out of purgatory is where things began to sour, not because of anything either of them did to the other, but more the space they let grow. Regular Earth was different from purgatory and these men had to go back to their roles and say sayonara. “What happened in purgatory stayed in purgatory” and all that. Benny was a vampire and Dean was a hunter. That kind of thing mattered here despite the fact that they did care for one another. 

Dean and Benny’s tumultuous relationship in relation to the people in Dean’s life could be reminiscent of a queer experience in itself. A lack of acceptance from Sam, Bobby, Martin- Dean’s family. Not because of who Benny was, but what he was. Pair this with the already established fact that Amelia and Sam were a direct parallel to Dean and Benny, Season 8 has been one of the most blatantly queer-coded seasons as of yet. 

Which brings us to “Goodbye Stranger.” It is established early on this season that Dean feels that there’s something wrong with Cas, something off about him. The fact that they don’t know how he popped out of purgatory is just one part of it. It’s in the way he acts, how spacey he is, the fact that he doesn’t answer Dean’s prayers. “I always come when you call.” Cas once said. And he did. Until now.

This is another aspect of their relationship which is simply there and not spoken about much- similar to their staring and eye communication thing they do. Dean started their relationship unable to read all of Cas’ quirks very well and unsure of the guy. Now, he’s fluent in the language of Cas. He knows by tone of voice, by shiftiness, by his expressions- when something is up. Maybe he started paying more attention after the whole Rafael situation until he could read Cas like the back of his hand, or maybe he just started paying attention just to pay attention. 

He’s known something is wrong for months while Cas has been under Naomi’s control. Just the same as years later, he knows something is up when Lucifer is taking a ride in Cas’ body. And he knows in 12x15 just by the way Cas speaks on the phone that something is off with him. 

They come upon the angel tablet in the crypt, and Dean does fight back when Cas starts in on him, but he spends even more energy trying to get Cas to come back to him and fight whatever force has him under control. He never once stopped to think that this was just Cas. “This isn’t you! Fight this!” Dean would repeat over and over as Cas beats him nearly to death. 

There was a moment he certainly thought that Cas would kill him, and it seemed like he was more bothered by the fact that it was Cas that would do it more so than the thought of dying. 

Cas breaks through the mind control, heals Dean. Then he leaves. So, again, Cas leaves. He keeps doing that to Dean. I stated before that Dean’s abandonment issues come into play in this relationship, but unlike at the beginning where Dean saw a future that Cas stays in, this Cas keeps coming and going. This makes it difficult for Dean to trust him fully, to rely on him. But the fact of the matter is that he does still trust him completely, and that’s what bothers Dean. 

When Cas does come back again, collapsed and bloody in the middle of the street, Dean puts up a wall. He’s hurt and he’s tired. He doesn’t want to trust him as much as he does and he definitely doesn’t want him to keep coming and going without a thought. (What’s interesting to note here, though, is Dean’s change in character as this occurs through the years. Because while here he may simply give Cas the cold shoulder and not talk much about his hurt in this situation, we see later on in 12x19 after Dean has been fretting for days about where Cas has gone off to, and Cas finally does return, he voices his side of things. “With everything that’s going on, you can’t just go dark like that. We didn’t know what happened to you. We were worried, that’s not okay.”)

Naomi hits the nail on the head when she visits Dean after Castiel disappears and she notices Dean still hasn’t warded the boat against angels. It is moments like these that we realize just how much everyone else around these two also notice their chemistry and their deep devotion to one another, always seeming to fall back to one another. 

“I think you have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trenchcoat who’s in love with you.” - Balthazar S6

“The stench of that impala is all over your overcoat, angel.” - Crowley S6

“Castiel? Oh, he’s not here. See, he has this weakness. He likes you.” -Uriel S4

(to Dean) “Go ask him, he was your boyfriend first.” - Meg S7

“I have tiptoed through all your little tulips. Your memories, your little feelings, yes. I know what you hate. I know who you love, what you fear.” - The Empty S13

“And then after a rousing speech, his true weakness is revealed. He’s in love... with humanity.” - Metatron S9

“I’m sorry, did you just say that you lost a Winchester? Because, one, that’s... interesting. And, two, how is it that you lost Dean? I thought the two of you were joined at the... you know, everything.” - Kipling S14

“And for what again? Oh, that’s right, to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you drape yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was about saving one human, right? Well, guess what? He’s dead, too.” - Metatron S9

“Don’t lose it all over one man.” - Hannah S9

“The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell he was lost!” - Hester S7

“Oh, sweet. Almost anything. Castiel? He’s dead. All the way dead. Because of you.” - Miriam S13

“And then you’d kill the angel, Castiel. Now that one, that I suspect would hurt something awful.” - Cain S10

“He should know this- Lucifer, his favorite, isn’t doing so well. Say nothing of the vessel, your friend Castiel.” - Amara S11

“I’m gonna cure you of your human weakness, the same way I cured my own. By cutting it out.” - Isham S12

Bonus: Dean to Sam about Garth’s baby Castiel- Dean: “This Cas keeps looking at me weird.” Sam: “So kinda like the real Cas.”

It is time and again that opposing forces recognize the relationship between Dean and Castiel, and it’s commented on and used against them frequently.

As we move forward to the angels falling and human Castiel, this season opens up with dean in the hospital with a very ill Sam. The first thing he does before contacting anyone else is pray to Castiel. There’s a moment in 9x03 where Castiel walks into a church and speaks with a woman there. He expresses his lack of faith and she says, “I guess that’s why we pray. You need something stronger than yourself.” Dean never prayed until he started praying to Cas. He prayed to Cas during the apocalypse, in purgatory, when Sam was sick during the trials, now in this hospital. Dean might not have faith in God, but he does in Cas. 

Castiel is human, and while Dean tears apart the grid trying to find him while angels are on Cas’ ass, he still watches him die, then has to kick him from the safety of the bunker the very same day. Up until this point, Cas has been a genuine part of their family regardless of their squabbles over the past months, but kicking him from the bunker damages that. Once the reasoning comes to light, however, Cas is forgiving immediately. He’d forgiven Dean even before that. That’s one thing about Cas that Dean never seems to get over either. Dean can get angry and take things out on him, kick him from the bunker, make stupid decisions and nearly kill himself, holler at him, blame him, but Cas comes back every time. He forgives him every time. It’s already overwhelming when Sam does this, but the ease at which Castiel consistently forgives Dean is a lot. 

Dean gets the Mark of Cain. It’s a means to an end, he says. When he becomes a demon as a result, this is when his relationship with Crowley is deepened. This relationship is an interesting one because it’s essentially an unrequited example. Dean likes Crowley, and when he’s a demon he has a good time, but Crowley’s feelings appear to go much deeper- even if he tries not to show it. 

 It is very possible that Dean and Crowley’s relationship is a formation more as a result of a joke than anything else- where the writers are concerned. But whether that was the intention or not, this is a relationship that continues to affect Crowley’s actions towards Dean for the rest of the series. He doesn’t let Dean kill innocents as he’s a demon, he saves Castiel from certain death as his grace drains, he gives Sam the information to find Dean so he can be cured, and he aids in getting the mark removed from Dean even as Sam attempts to kill him in the process. In return, Dean gives Crowley the benefit of the doubt more often, and they share a sort of mutual respect. What differs here, however, from Dean’s relationships with Benny or Castiel, is Dean’s actions. It is clear that Dean doesn’t feel as deeply as Crowley does, so this is an interesting relationship to compare side by side with the others. 

Not only this, but DeanxCrowley in these first few episodes can be seen as a parallel with CasxHannah. Two unreciprocated relationships which do not last long in this particular phase, but do result in a friendship within these pairings as time goes on. 

Still with the Mark of Cain, Dean and Cain have a few things in common. Cain had said that his wife, Colette, before she died had asked him to stop. Stop the killing. It’s several months after that that Dean is going off the rails and Cas, behind Dean as he’s walking away, asks Dean to stop. He nearly kills Cas then, almost fulfilling Cain’s words just weeks earlier: “And then you’ll kill the angel, Castiel. And that, I suspect, would hurt something awful.” This is a direct romantic parallel written into the show. 

When the darkness is released, Amara and Dean are immediately drawn to one another through some sort of connection as a remnant of the mark. This relationship is another interesting one, because it ties in to true desire and consent. Dean is drawn to her, yes, and she is sold as a sort of potential love interest this season, but Dean himself doesn’t want anything to do with her. He’s hypnotized when he’s around her, but as soon as he’s away this energy dissipates. 

So in light of this storyline let’s talk about consent and the sexualization of Dean Winchester for a second, shall we?

Dean is an often highly sexualized individual. He plays along more in his younger days, but the older he gets the more frustrated he becomes with the whole situation. I’m sure there are more but here are some tentative examples (This is also something that happens to Sam a decent amount as well.): 

Wendy at the psych ward in “Sam, Interrupted” kisses Dean

Pamela touching Dean’s inner thigh in “Lazarus Rising” 

Ezra in “Time After Time” kisses Dean without consent

Gets turned into a vampire because he’s “pretty”

Pamela in “Dark Side of the Moon” kisses Dean

Almost becomes a vessel for Sandy’s mate in “The Thing” because she “enjoys looking at his face”

Amara kisses Dean in “O’ Brother Where Art Thou”

Mildred gropes Dean’s leg in “Into the Mystic” and continually makes advances even tho he’s uncomfortable. 

Random girl slaps Dean’s ass in “The Last Call”

Ellie in S8 wants to sleep with Dean and even kisses him randomly

Meg kisses Dean as he’s being held against his will in “Sympathy for the Devil”

Granted, there aren’t a plethora of examples, but it’s still a lot and it is interesting to see how often Dean has been sexualized for someone else’s pleasure. It is bound to work into his characterization as well, and his sense of self-worth. He’s often described as the pretty one of the brothers, and seeing as he is the more promiscuous of the two, it is assumed that he welcomes all of or most of the attention that comes his way.

It is for this reason in particular that the situation with Amara is bothersome to me. Not only is Dean taken advantage of physically, but his mind is essentially hypnotized whenever she is near, not giving him total control over his actions or desires. Amara is in part meant to be sold as a romantic interest, but throughout the season Dean continually expresses his discontent. He’s even ashamed to admit these feelings to Sam and Cas, even though he knows it isn’t his fault he still feels responsible. (Which, if we think about it, this is could be a queer allegory too. The lack of choice, feeling shame, etc.)

What is notable, however, is the day that they attempt to capture Lucifer and speak to Cas to get him to expel Lucifer from his body. Amara makes a surprise appearance and captures Lucifer/Cas herself. Dean yells to Cas. This catches Amara’s attention and appears to confuse her, and even Lucifer, seeing as when Dean is around her he’s meant to have eyes for just her because of their “bond”. His link to Castiel appears to be stronger, however.  

Amara uses this connection between Cas and Dean when she wishes to contact Dean, simply by placing her hand over Castiel’s heart. She says to Dean, “If you should cross paths, if (god) should reach out to you, he should know this - Lucifer, his favorite, isn’t doing so well. Say nothing of the vessel, your friend Castiel.”

If we backtrack a moment, Dean finding out that Castiel is possessed in the first place is a very emotional time for Dean. He doesn’t want to accept that Cas would make such a decision, put himself in that kind of danger, and choose to leave once again. Sam, the arguably more rational thinker at this current time, tries to rationalize that Cas may not come back willingly since he chose to let Lucifer in. “Not possible.” Dean says. It’s simply not possible that Cas doesn’t want to come back to them. It’s not something he can accept. 

The next several episodes are begun with Dean either losing sleep trying to figure out what to do about Cas, or simply moping about. Sam has to comfort him each time. This is notable behavior as well, because Dean isn’t often one to wear his heart on his sleeve this frequently. Certainly he has his moments, but much of the time when he’s distressed he simply buries it all down and puts up a front. He doesn’t do that here. In fact, once they do begin to put together a plan with Crowley, Sam thinks they should still utilize Lucifer in the fight against Amara but thinks it’s foolish to move him into a new vessel. 

((I actually counted up the mopey Dean scenes- between finding out Cas is possessed, to getting Cas back.))

There are four convos with Sam (multiple episodes) where Sam has to comfort Dean and say something along the lines of “we’ll get him back.” (Just as an aside, I don’t think there has ever been a scene in the series where Dean comforted Sam about Cas, it’s always Sam having to comfort a freaking out Dean)

Then, of course, there’s the scene where Dean comforts a victim and she says “I watched the man I love die. There’s no normal after that.” 

There’s the “It’s not an ‘it,’ Sam. It’s Cas.” scene. 

There’s Dean trying to get through to Cas when they capture Lucifer. 

There’s the Dean yelling “Cas?” to Casifer when Amara is in the room. 

There’s two more scenes where Sam comforts Dean again. 

There’s “The Chitters” episode with the gay hunter couple. (This isn’t a direct relation, but more of an honorable mention because it seems abstractly relevant)

Amara connecting to Dean through Cas’ heart.

Dean freaking out about making it to Cas in time and again talking to Sam about it.

Dean asking “what about Cas?” as they’re planning the attack with God against Amara.

Someone has said once that you can tell that Dean is in love with Cas because Sam isn’t. It’s in moments like this that this becomes readily apparent. Yes, Sam cares about Cas, of course. But it’s just different than the way that Dean cares about Cas. When Dean cares about certain people, this love weaves into the very fabric of his being and he just feels it so completely and overwhelmingly, he can’t simply not fight for it. 

“Dean, it’s a strong vessel, it’s held Cas for years, and we know what he’s been through.” Sam says.

“It? It’s not an ‘it,’ Sam. It’s Cas.”

Dean appears almost shocked that these words would pass through Sam’s mouth. He’s confused that Sam wouldn’t fight for Cas just as much as Dean would. The type of love they each have for the angel is just different. Visually, action-wise, reaction-wise. This conversation in “Hell’s Angel” highlights that. 

You know what else highlights it? The fact that when they do trap Lucifer, it’s only Dean who gets through to Cas and talks to him to get him to come back and expel Lucifer. It’s Cas only seeking Dean’s forgiveness in S7 when putting the souls back in Purgatory. It’s Dean in S6 being the only one to defend Cas in “The Man Who Would Be King.” It’s Dean later in that same episode being the one to get through to Cas in the circle of holy fire. It’s “I did it, all of it, for you.” It’s Dean carrying around that trenchcoat for a year and mourning when Sam doesn’t. It’s Bobby checking in on Dean mourning Cas, but doesn’t check in with Sam about it. It’s Sam pulling Dean out of the apocalypse world in season 12 as Dean screams for Cas and physically fights against Sam to get to Cas. It’s Sam seeing Cas dead on the ground minutes later, but still able to walk away while Dean is frozen in place, frozen in shock. It’s Dean being the only one to wrap up Cas’ dead body. It’s Sam always having to reassure Dean that Cas is probably fine, whenever he goes missing for a little while. It’s Dean hardly able to function in S13 with this encompassing grief over Cas’ death and yelling “It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t.” It’s S15 when Rowena tells Dean and Cas to fix their quarrel before it’s too late, and later Dean in purgatory not sure of it is too late as he’s praying for Cas to be okay and crying against a tree. 

Sam’s reactions are important to take into account. Sam cares, yes, but Cas isn’t as wholly encompassing in his life as he is in Dean’s. If anything else is to prove that, it’s the way that Dean grieves (I mean, if you were to put Sam in Dean’s place in 15x09 in Purgatory and their fight, there’s no way that Sam would react this extremely). 

There are three different points to highlight Dean’s grief. The first is season 7 with the trenchcoat, which we’ve already talked about. The second is when Cas is possessed by Lucifer, which we have covered as well. The most damning, however, is Dean’s season 13 grief arc following Cas’ death. Dean also loses his mother during this time and a few other friends, but considering how he reacts when Cas comes back, a great amount of this grief has to do with Cas. Dean completely loses hope and faith in anything at all during this time. He hates Jack for giving Cas false hope and getting him killed. He doesn’t believe in their mission anymore. He doesn’t believe anything matters at all. “Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing.” Dean admits to Sam. When Cas comes back from the dead, however, he pulls a complete 180. He has hope again. He has faith. And all of it begins with Cas.

Lastly, Dean never hooks up with anyone again after Castiel’s final resurrection. We can go through an outline of the steady decline of Dean’s hookups and relations outside of Cas as the decade goes, but during this three year window specifically, Dean’s only pairing is Cas. Sure, he might flirt with someone every now and again, but this never goes anywhere. (Arguably the person he flirts with the most in any episode in these final three seasons is Daphne, but idk if that even counts much considering she is a cartoon.)  And as Pamela says once in Rocky’s bar: “Besides, you don’t want me. You just like to flirt. I’m psychic so I kinda know.” And that was just in Dean’s head anyways so it’s probably even more true than had Pamela actually said it herself. 

When Jack comes in the picture in season 13, and Castiel comes back from the dead, this makeshift little family is formed. All three men act as father figures to this half-angel kid at different capacities, and amongst this dynamic another is formed a bit further between Dean and Cas. They’ve already been acting a bit as an old married couple in recent years (Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets, anyone?) but this co-parenting scenario they’ve found themselves in has solidified this dynamic all the more as they collaborate on the issues that arise with Jack. In “Lebanon” when John Winchester comes back for a brief period, John even says to Dean that he’d hoped he would get a family someday and get out of hunting and such. Dean replies, “I have a family.” Sam, Cas, and Jack are his family. Cas has been family for a long time, but here and now Dean just isn’t looking for anything else or anything normal. He’s happy with himself and the people he’s surrounded by. He’s not looking for anything else or anyone else. 

For a change of perspective, let’s check out Castiel’s relationships over the years.

Unlike Dean, Castiel’s queerness and interest in Dean has been officially canonized. We can speculate all we want on the legitimacy of Dean’s love for Cas, but we can speak in certainties about Castiel. Castiel is in love with Dean Winchester. Speculation can come in when we consider, just how long has this love existed for him? Let’s start from the beginning.

Right off the bat when we meet Castiel, he’s a semi-emotionless soldier of heaven who works under strict orders and doesn’t have much free-will. Dean begins to change this. We can see even in their first couple encounters that Castiel is interested in Dean- in what he has to say, intrigue in the fact that Dean talks back to the angels (despite that these angels are unkillable beings and could smite him on the spot), the fact that he’s snarky and brave and questions everything. Where Uriel finds Dean annoying and blasphemous, Castiel finds the back-talk fascinating. Dean’s words impact Cas, and it’s not long before he starts to have doubts about Heaven. Following these orders blindly and unquestioningly starts to seem foolish when Dean puts things in a different perspective. 

Even after Cas undergoes what some have funnily dubbed “conversion therapy” in “The Rapture” (when Cas had finally decided on going against Heaven and to help Dean stop the apocalypse) it’s still not enough to stop him completely. A bit more time with Dean and he’s convinced yet again to help this one human man stop the apocalypse with his brother. He even dies for him and this new mission of his. 

Castiel throughout this first season is interesting because we see firsthand his struggle to understand beginning to feel emotions and accept thinking for himself. “For the first time, I feel...” He says to Anna. He wants her to tell him what to do. He wants orders because that’s all he knows, and he doesn’t understand why suddenly he cares. It hurts him to send Dean in to torture Alastair. It hurts him even later when in the beautiful room Dean dismisses him with a “What do you care, you’re already dead. We’re done.” 

It’s possible that in these first several months, or even these first couple seasons, that Castiel follows Dean around and does as he asks because he’s allotted Dean as the new being he serves. Because serving is what he knows. But it’s also through this that he begins caring more and more. He learns more how to express certain emotions, he learns more about humanity, he learns more about what is important in life and what is worth fighting for. As Cas will admit himself 12 years later, “Ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you.”

We start to see sprinkles of this especially throughout season 5 as Cas begins to come to terms with caring and adopting Dean’s mindset to care. Consider Sam for a moment. He and Cas don’t necessarily get along a lot and mostly just tolerate one another in these early days. However, as we see in “Abandon All Hope” when Castiel is captured by Lucifer, Cas gets visually upset at the concept of Lucifer taking Sam as his vessel. “You are not taking Sam Winchester. I won’t let you.” 

Sam and Cas don’t have much of a relationship at this point, but Cas cares because Dean does. In “The Song Remains the Same” not long later, he even refers to Sam as his friend.

By the time S6 rolls around Castiel is in the midst of a civil war in heaven entirely because he has adopted the Winchester’s all encompassing mindset on the importance of free-will. Castiel is making his own choices, and he does everything he can to protect the Winchesters from harm as he does so. He decides not to seek out Dean’s help while he’s raking leaves because Dean had already sacrificed too much in Castiel’s eyes. He raises Sam from perdition because he feels it the right thing to do. He re-sinks the Titanic to keep the boys from being killed by Fate. 

Personally, I think Castiel has been slowly falling in love with Dean this entire time, he’s just not aware what this feeling is. But this becomes even more plausible to me when we get Castiel’s perspective in “The Man Who Would Be King.” Cas cares what Bobby and Sam think of him, sure, but all he focuses on is Dean. Dean’s happiness and ensuring he not sacrifice more. Dean’s loyalty even as Cas seems to be guilty. Dean’s words when they capture Cas in holy fire. 

The problem is, their relationship this season is also rocky. Cas seems to think that he’s merely a tool at the Winchester’s disposal and not much else. But he doesn’t mind because he cares about them so much, so what do his feelings matter? He sees himself as their protector. Their guardian angel. A role he’s fine with filling regardless of how they feel in return. 

But when things get bad, Dean says to him “Next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family. You are like a brother to me. So if I’m asking you not to do something... You’ve gotta trust me, man.” and Cas seems genuinely surprised at this admission. Emotional, even. 

As time goes on, Castiel’s actions nearly primarily revolve around Dean

After Cas realizes his error and is sending the purgatory souls back to their place, he tells Dean repeatedly that he’ll find some way to redeem himself to him. That’s the most important thing to him then. 

When Cas smites the demons outside of the mental hospital in 7x17, all of his flashes of memories coming back were memories of Dean. 

Partially to aid Sam and partially to redeem himself to Dean, Cas takes on Sam’s Hell brain in the asylum and goes crazy.

Cas runs in purgatory to keep the leviathans away from Dean. 

Cas breaks out of Naomi’s mind control/brainwashing because of his feelings for Dean.

Let’s talk about that final bullet point for a moment. The Naomi chapter is damning in “Goodbye Stranger.” It isn’t copies of both Sam and Dean that Naomi trains Castiel to kill hundreds upon hundreds of times. No, it’s ONLY clones of Dean. 

“What broke the connection?” Dean will ask after Castiel heals him in the crypt and takes control back over his mind. “I don’t know.” Cas will say. It wasn’t the angel tablet. That may have unwound the last of Naomi’s control over him, yes, but he’d dropped that angel blade before that. It was Dean that broke that connection. Even if this remains unsaid, it doesn’t make it any less true. Maybe Castiel starts to have an understanding of what his feelings are and what they mean here, but he won’t be truly sure until he soon becomes human. 

Before we get there, though, we’ll take a brief pause to explore Cas’ heterosexual explorations and connections. 

First is Meg. Cas’ relationship with Meg is born of sexual exploration more than anything else at its conception. He’d just been watching porn in his downtime and when Meg kisses him, he goes with it enthusiastically. Later, he seems to have a certain infatuation with her in his “crazy” state, and seems to trust her perhaps simply because she had been watching over him in the institution. 

This is interesting because in his “crazy” state, Cas is a lot more raw and unfiltered and optimistic than he ever has been before. He compliments her, is concerned with her safety, and trusts her. On the contrary, with Dean, Cas is a lot more hesitant and even fearful when talking about certain subjects with him because of his past failings. He tries to keep the peace without directly getting involved because his direct involvement in the past had failed them all so spectacularly. 

He and Meg continue to have a sort of connection whenever they cross paths until her demise the next season, and he still holds a respect for her years later, continuing to use her nickname for him “Clarence” as an alias at various times. 

When Castiel becomes human in S9, he’s a bit lost and overwhelmed. April takes him in for the night. Although this is a short-lived romance considering she tortures and kills him the next day, for a brief enough time Cas starts to become acquainted with human romance and sexual desire. He loses his virginity to her. It is estimated by some that this is merely sexual experimentation on the part of a very confused newly human Cas, and others have used this to say that Cas is not gay but pan or bi. The conclusion in any regard, in my opinion, is purely up to the viewer. 

If I’m to offer my opinion, however, seeing as he has shown interest in both sexes, though remains unlabeled, I consider him simply an unlabeled queer person. Sexual identity and orientation has never seemed to matter much to Castiel, so I don’t see why it should matter to me. He loves who he loves, simple as that. 

When we get to Hannah, she provides an interesting foil to Castiel for a time, and an emphasizing expression on just how much he’s changed since his introduction to Earth and the Winchesters. Where Castiel has been open to a plethora of new emotions and experiences through the years which have made him a bit more human than angel at times, Hannah is still new to humanity and the range and movement of emotions that come with it. Just how little she seems to understand proves how much Castiel has grown and does understand by comparison. 

As such, he seems to pick up on the fact that Hannah has an attachment to him that appears to be forming into a romantic or sexual interest. He gently turns her down multiple times, not expressing interest in her behavior although he does respect her greatly as a person. Though this relationship isn’t considered romantic from Castiel’s perspective, its unrequited nature again is a good parallel to Dean and Crowley’s relationship at this same time. Angel x Angel and Demon x Demon. Both one sided.

Now, let’s get back to Dean. 

Up to the point that Castiel turns human, for however brief a time, he finally gets a look behind the curtain of human emotion. Now, we all know that Cas is in love with Dean already here- and probably has been for some time. Years, even- but it’s my personal belief that during this time turning human is when he actually realizes it and understands where these emotions come from.

Maybe it’s the heartbreak of Dean kicking him from the bunker, maybe it’s seeing Dean again when he shows up in line at the Gas n Sip, or maybe it’s somewhere in between when he sees two people on the street looking at each other and realizes “oh, that’s love. I know what that is. I felt that, too.” And every moment from then on he realizes what that feeling was in his chest when he looked at Dean for a little too long, or why it hurt so much to see the pain in Dean’s eyes at something Cas had done, or why hearing Dean’s prayers to him just felt different than they did with Sam’s. Why everything that he’d done since he rebelled from heaven was in the name of doing the right thing, muddled alongside doing the right thing for Dean. Caring because of Dean. Caring for Dean.

It’s during this time when he realizes what these feelings are, that he also must come to terms with the fact that they’re unreciprocated (or as he believes, anyway). This is for two reasons. The first, he still believes at this time that Dean kicked him from the bunker just because. And the second, if there’s anything that Cas took to heart from Dean’s example as strongly as the concept of free-will, it’s self-loathing. He doesn’t see himself worthy of love. Dean doesn’t see himself worthy of love either. They’re both messy piles of self-loathing that breeds into a blindness to the depth of care they hold for one another.   

Now that we’re on the topic of self-loathing, this leads into Castiel and his decision to become Lucifer’s vessel in season 11. Much like Dean, Cas has a consistent issue with seeing his own personal self-worth, so when the opportunity comes along to “be of service to the fight” and become Lucifer’s vessel, he takes it on easily. He considers himself expendable, and he won’t see just how much Dean struggles with this fact while he’s possessed. In fact, Cas never knows just how much Dean struggles with his absence at all, which is just one of the many divides between the two of them that could easily be resolved with communication, if either were ever good at that. 

Once Lucifer is shoved from Cas’ body, however, Dean makes a point to let Cas know just how important he is in his life. He’s said Cas was family before, but that was before the falling out at the end of season 6. Dean makes it clear that he and Sam both consider Cas family, once again, during a ride in Baby. “You’re our brother, Cas. I want you to know that.” 

Now, here, simultaneous heartbreak and love occur. Because while Cas is likely very much in love with Dean here, and very much aware of it, to hear that Dean simply thinks of him as a brother must ache a bit. However, we’re also talking about Dean Winchester, and for him to call someone a brother is an immense depth of love, probably the most the man is even capable of. Dean never says the words “I love you” to anyone, so this is about the closest anyone could get. Cas knows this, he’s well-versed in the ways of Dean Winchester by now. So, while it aches, his heart is also full. 

Comparable to:

“We need you, Cas. I need you.” 8x17

“We’re gonna shove your ass back through the eye of that needle if it kills all three of us.” 8x05

“Don’t make me lose you, too.” 7x23

“Don’t do anything stupid” 

The entire purgatory confession/apology prayer in 15x09

Cas returns this love just hours later, offering to go with Dean to die taking out Amara.

If we jump forward to the divorce arc of season 14-15, we can hit upon the next great heartbreak of Castiel’s sad little love life. While the Winchester brothers, Castiel, and Jack have all become a family unit, Castiel never wants to lose that. But two things happen. First, Cas’ deal with The Empty is made, and somewhere along the line, silently, he becomes aware that allowing himself to be happy, and that happiness, somehow involves Dean. The second thing that happens is Jack kills Mary Winchester, and Dean says Castiel is dead to him. 

So, The Empty won’t take him, but his family is broken apart. Castiel never gives up on a single family member, though. That’s the thing about Cas. The same way he consistently forgives Dean for all his behaviors over the years, he never loses faith in anyone in this family. And when they come to reunite, he’s happy simply in appreciating any and all time they have together, however brief.

Then, in true Castiel fashion, he sacrifices himself for Dean Winchester in 15x18. 

Their relationship has always left things unsaid, but I don’t think there’s ever been a question on whether Dean loves Cas or Cas loves Dean even if they don’t talk about it. You can’t look at Cas and Dean’s faces seeing each other again for the first time in weeks at the end of “The Last Call” and say that there wasn’t love and heartbreak there. On some level I think that Cas knew that Dean loved him back, but Dean was so buried in trauma at that point that it might take him years more to realize what he actually felt and what he needed. But Cas is such a selfless lover that he was absolutely 100% fine with just being around Dean for the rest of his life, even if he never got a chance to tell him how much he genuinely cared for him, and never got that reciprocation back. Castiel’s love for Dean is so pure and selfless it’s overwhelming to even consider, but for someone like Dean it would be a hundred times harder to accept or even fathom someone caring about him as much as Cas does. 

So Castiel never pushes Dean further, never suggests, barely even touches him. The only liberties Cas takes are small touches to heal him (even though he doesn’t need to touch a person to heal them), a few small hugs through the years, just sharing comfortable space inside the impala, small moments watching Dean’s favorite movies with him, or sharing a moment over beers in the kitchen. And Cas’ happiness was in telling Dean how much he loved him likely because then maybe Dean would actually see how much he was worth. Cas wanted Dean to know how much he loved him and how he viewed him, because Dean deserved to love himself and was worthy of it. 

The five types of love languages are as follows:

Words of affirmation

Physical touch

Gift giving

Acts of Service

Quality Time

One of the reasons Dean and Cas miss the mark with one another so often could simply come down to love languages. A lot of the time, what a person needs in love language is often what they also give. I don’t think this is the case where these two are concerned, though. They’re both so sacrificial that it’s difficult for them to accept this in return, even though this is what they each offer to the other and anyone else around them. 

Both Cas and Dean’s giving love language is “acts of service” which translates into sacrificial actions much of the time, though it can also be more domestic than that as well. It’s Dean grabbing an extra beer for Cas or making food, or it’s Cas healing Dean without any prompting, Cas loading up on pie and beer at the Gas n Sip when Dean’s mad at him. 

What they each need, however, is different. Dean needs “quality time.” He needs his people close, he needs them to answer calls, and he needs to know where they are. This clearly ties in to his abandonment issues, and it hurts his relationship with Cas significantly when the angel just keeps leaving, or disappears without answering his phone for days at a time. And when he dies, obviously. He always comes back, though. And half the time when he’s gone it’s because he’s trying to get a win for Dean against whatever issue the team is facing at the time. 

What Cas needs, best I can tell, is “words of affirmation.” Cas has a consistent problem with thinking that he’s worth less than he is, and is less important to the people around him than he is. Dean obviously has this issue, too, but with Cas it’s somehow infinitely worse, if that’s even possible. Frequently, what he needs to get him going in low points is a few words from Dean or encouragement in general. To name a few:

“Maybe to fix it.” 7x17

“I’d rather have you, cursed or not.” 7x23, Cas then goes with Dean to find and kill Dick Roman

“I’m not leaving here without you.” S8 in purgatory when Cas wanted Dean to leave him behind but Dean was having none of it.

“You’re our brother, Cas.” 11x23, after Cas was possessed by Lucifer and thought he was expendable. 

Over time, Dean does get a bit more vocal with Cas about issues he’s having or just with encouraging words as well. Cas, too, sticks around a lot more. They’re not perfect but they do begin to grow and work with one another in these later years to give one another what they need most to see how much the other is loved. 

In conclusion, there is a significant amount of romance and sexuality written into this show, and simply interpreted as well. And that’s the thing, when a queer person says that they interpreted a certain piece of media as queer, it’s not up to someone else to say that they can’t, or shouldn’t, or that they’re interpreting something wrong. That’s the thing about media, it can have so many different interpretations and meanings to so many different people. 

It’s my personal interpretation to see the queerness embedded in the text here. Maybe it’s not there for another person, and that’s cool too, just don’t tell me how I should see it. The fact is that it was written into the show to be interpreted, and interpret is what we did. 

I’d love to hear any feedback that others may have regarding this. Any other theories, different interpretations, things I may have missed. I hope you enjoy the edits, and the endings I put together for them. We all need a little bit of happiness after that ending, so I hope it leaves you with a lighter heart. :)

Much love,

Taylor