#however many more ship names these two have

[parag00n]

Lighting/background practice but it turned into my old middle school otp WOOOO

I picked up a johndave fic, blacked out for a week, and when I came back I found myself feverishly drawing a lot of johndave. art block is no more but im squarely in homestuck johndave brainrot rn 👍 strap urselves in for more pepsicola WEEEE (just bear with me I’ll be drawing ninjago in time for season 2 of DR)

[kaguya-muneuji]

i need to be stopped

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (1)

summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 14.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k

warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho

-> part two (wc: 15.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)

note: my not so little summer project <3 i thought i wouldn’t have the opportunity to dedicate this much time to writing again in the near future so here we are! finishing this story alone felt fulfilling but even more so that i get to share it with you. pls treat it with gentle care 🫂 reblogs and feedback r very much appreciated i love talking to you guys🥺 special thanks to my lovely rio for proofreading and being the sweetest friend :") ilyily

࿐ for those who yearn <3

—

“wait! wait for me! don’t close it yet!”

jungkook’s whole life has led up to this moment. 

from running away from his neighbor’s large snobby dogs during childhood— to participating in run for charity marathons mostly, only mostly, to appease his ex-girlfriend by being interested in her interests.

he successfully escaped from his uneventful class today by faking dizziness. half an hour later, he is racing towards one of the few places in this city where he feels something. 

his best friend’s face is still blurry given the distance, but jungkook doesn’t need to clearly see taehyung’s face to know that he is looking at him unimpressed. 

“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.

“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground. 

he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place. 

“what do you think i work here for?” 

taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”

he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease. 

unhappy faces with blank stares. 

he smiles at them cheerfully.

“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain!” 

“jungkook! sit!” 

“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung. 

“eh, more like the wind behind our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat. 

“what?”

his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying. 

the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.

he imagined he would be alone here again today.

but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship. 

the earth begins to move in slow motion. 

they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing. 

gone is the smile on his face. 

jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are. 

are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking? 

for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified. 

and why is his breaking too? 

your sobs and gasps for air are once more drowned out by the fear and adrenaline of the majority. nevertheless, the ache they caused in his chest stays. 

what could it be? the reason you’re crying like this at an amusement park? wouldn’t it be because you got stood up by your date?

lost in thought, he’s been unblinking. the wind blows as the speed of the boat picks up and he groans when dirt gets into his eye. he harshly rubs and rubs and he stops to check if it’s gone… he knows it’s gone because now he can see clearly— one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes upon.

the wind blows into your hair and it finally grants him a good view of your face. red, swollen eyes and mascara running. you wipe your tears away, distant eyes falling on your lap, and you take a sharp inhale. you’re a tragedy and so gorgeous still that the aching of his heart doubles due to its intensified pounding. 

there’s no way… he debunks his theory. there’s no way a man could ever waste the opportunity of going on a date with you. only a fool. 

slow motion comes to a full stop.

shit, shit, shit. 

why can’t he look away? 

you’ve made eye-contact and you’re not breaking it. 

he nervously swallows the lump in his throat.

“huh?”

the ringing of the bell snaps him out of… whatever that experience was. he looks around and it is revealed to him that the ship has returned to its neutral position. passengers are already hopping off, including you.

wait, including you… 

when did you get a cap?!

“fuck!” he curses, kicking his feet in annoyance.

he then proceeds to break the promise he swore to himself: never run after a girl again. 

“yah, jungkook! where are you going?! you need to clock in!”

taehyung releases yet another sigh as he loses his best friend among the crowd. nearly at the same time, he hears a thud that originates from the control booth. he blankly stares at the backpack that mysteriously fell off the chair. 

“does he have snacks in here at least?”

—

blue tube top and black baseball cap worn backwards. blue top and black cap. blue top and black cap. jungkook chants in his head like a maniac as he navigates the grounds, trying his best not to lose sight of your back. sweat has started to form as beads on his forehead. he squeezes one eye shut, wary of the sting, before wiping them away with the back of his hand. 

he ran with all his might, but now that you’re almost within reach, he’s suddenly nervous.

“miss- miss! you dropped this!” 

you turn around abruptly so his fingers end up only grazing your arm. the first thing he notices is your knitted eyebrows. he doesn’t know whether it mostly indicates annoyance or confusion. 

you merely glance at the handkerchief on his open palm. “it’s not mine.” 

you walk away from him and you are a magnet he is curiously drawn to. 

he stands in front of you, sweaty and stuttering like a student introducing himself to a class for the very first time. 

“but are you okay? i-i couldn’t help but to notice that you were cry- uh, uhm… you-you seem to  have troubles.” 

he clears his throat, turning his cheek for a second as to avoid melting under your intense gaze. he marvels at your beauty but he can’t pull himself together to admire it from a close distance. 

“sorry, i don’t mean to pry. i’m just concerned.” 

seconds pass and he doesn’t receive any sort of answer. no affirmative nod; not even a roll of the eyes. you stare at his face blankly as your feet become rooted into the ground. strands of your hair dance with gusts of the wind. it could be a haunting sight. your glossy eyes are reminiscent of deep, turbulent waters. there was a twinge of doubt on the accuracy of his words before, however, it now seems to ring true. 

could it really be because of a boy?

a bicycle enters his line of vision. 

a little too close not to cause an accident. 

“move!” he yells out the warning, but he still takes matters into his own hands by pushing you over to the side and using his own body as a shield. 

the bicycle speeds past and the rider screams something unintelligible. 

jungkook’s nostrils flare. “kid, that’s not allowed in here! where did you come from?!” 

the security guard running after the rule-breaker moves past him, but not before hitting his back with the baton. 

“jungkook! why didn’t you stop him?!”

“yah! what was that for?!” 

he scoffs, glaring towards the direction of the intruder and his co-staff, who has an entirely different job from him. why didn’t he stop him?! 

while he was distracted by the commotion, he was also unaware that you managed to swipe the handkerchief loosely hanging from his grip around your arm. 

his angry expression softens. 

you wipe away your tears that are freely flowing against your will. earlier, you were sobbing. right now, your face is devoid of any expression. he can’t decide which is more heartbreaking.

“are you okay?” he carries on to ask again despite the both of you knowing the answer, but he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

“i’m okay,” you say. “thanks for finding my handkerchief… and for saving me from the- the, yeah…” 

you’re about to walk out of his life until his mouth blurts out- “wait! take this!” 

he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. you blink at the small packet of sour gummies on his open palm and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. 

even he thinks this is ridiculous. he had a handkerchief in the left pocket of his jacket and now it’s yours. he had gummy worms in the right and for some reason he also wants you to have it.

“why?”

he has the same question.

“just because…”

no, that won’t do it.

“maybe it could make you feel better.”

oh my god.

“if you decide to ride the spinning top… it helps when you’re nauseated.”

still with the unreadable expression, you probe no further and accept his edible remedy. 

“thank you.” you politely bow before taking your leave.

he doesn’t run after you this time. after all, his pockets are empty. 

meeting you— this is probably the first and last time. 

he exhales through his mouth. disappointed. he turns around and tries to look for you again. 

blue top and black cap… 

there you are. 

leaving- 

wait. 

the spark of hope quickly fizzles out. you pull your hand out of your pocket, tossing something into one of the trash bins. he’s too far away to identify the item, but it couldn’t be… right?

he huffs in sheer disbelief.

“huh, she’s pretty and rude.” 

—

if he’s being honest, jungkook doesn’t like this job much. graphic design is there, and it’s been a pretty sweet gig especially when he’s desperate for extra cash. anyway, taehyung got this job first, which took away time from their regular hangouts, so he would often visit his best friend during his free periods at the university. long story short, one of the managers scolded them both for playing around throughout taehyung’s shift, and as a punishment, she employed jungkook.  

she is the reason why he is spending his sunday morning putting on strangers’ seatbelts and lap bars so they won’t fall off the rollercoaster and die. he was trained to double-check everything, but he is a bit more paranoid about lawsuits than the management, so despite the extra waiting time some passengers aren’t happy about, he makes that triple. 

as fast as he can, while maintaining meticulousness, he does his final round of checking. so far, everyone is safely strapped to their seats. until he reaches the last row and finds the only person there with their lap bar unlocked. how did he miss that? 

“ma’am, your lap bar isn’t secured. do you mind if i-”

the woman shakes her head without a word. as he gets to work, his eyes can’t help but to stray. most of her face is hidden by a face mask and sunglasses. it’s kind of funny because it’s actually been a gloomy day. 

“ah, there you go. safe and sound!” 

“thanks,”

he flashes her a bright smile. the last and apparently most important employee rule.  

“you’re welcome!” 

—

 

“why aren’t you eating?” taehyung asks with a mouthful of corndog. 

jungkook lifts his head up from the table, sends him a glare, then drops it again. he didn’t get much sleep last night studying for their upcoming tests. he’d much rather spend his whole lunch break with his eyes closed. he’d go as far as saying that moving his jaw to chew food sounds like exerting too much energy and he couldn’t be bothered.

“change shifts with me. i fucking hate sundays.” 

“depends…” taehyung pretends to be in deep thought. “will you buy me a meal everyday until our shifts rotate again?”

“do you want to die?” 

“no, but it looks like you will before me.” 

jungkook yawns, sleepy tears flowing down his temple. “you might be right…”

“were you up all night thinking of that girl?” 

“huh? no.”

“you’re lying.”

“shut up,” he groans, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. 

so a beautiful stranger has been plaguing his mind. big deal! happens to the best of us. 

taehyung cackles at his demise, thoroughly amused. “why? didn’t she throw away your gift?” 

“it wasn’t a gift.” he argues. “and i know, she’s exactly my type.” 

“bro, you’re fucking hopeless.”

“i know that too,” he calmly replies. “i kind of miss her.” 

“at least it’s not your ex anymore, i guess.” taehyung mutters before obnoxiously sipping on his strawberry lemonade. “want to sneak into the security camera room? i’m curious. i want to see her.”

“can’t you just let me sleep?!” 

“wow, you’re so grumpy today.” 

took him long enough to deduce.

“then should we go after your nap?” 

“i need to work!” jungkook snaps. he straightens his back, rubbing his face in frustration. “go- go do whatever you want!”

taehyung’s chewing slows down, appearing almost scared at his best friend’s outburst, but everything is a game with the two of them. “but i don’t know what she looks like.” 

jungkook sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“okay, fine!” 

in a state of exaggerated panic, taehyung gathers his things in one clean sweep, cradling them in his arms. 

“i’m leaving!” he dashes out of the break room as if he’s running for his life. 

jungkook huffs out a laugh at the comedic scene. as soon as his smile drops, so does his head. 

—

 

it’s past midnight, which means it’s already friday. jungkook has been glued to the computer for the past three hours, working on a brochure he was commissioned to make. this task would go along smoothly if only his client didn’t have such a long list of demands, but alas, he is desperate for a good review after his past client’s four paragraph-long criticism. a boomer’s opinions hardly matter to him, but he knows how a single bad review alone can negatively affect reputation. 

one thing’s for sure, everyone’s making it hard for him to fucking quit energy drinks. 

he tosses the empty can into the trash bin beside his desk. away with his anti-radiation glasses, too. it lands in an awkward position over his keyboard. he couldn’t care less. everything hurts. 

he keeps his eyes closed as he stretches his fingers, neck, and back with strained moans and grunts. the sweet relief causes him to slump lazily on his chair. at that moment, an internal battle starts. should he do the responsible thing and continue working? or should he just say fuck it and go to bed? 

“no but seriously! why would she throw them away?!” 

completely unrelated. 

a thousand miles away from the topic at hand. 

“jungkook!” taehyung growls from the bed, furiously pressing at the buttons of the controller. “it’s been two weeks! when are you going to move on?” 

jungkook spins the chair to face him with a deadpan expression. the ps5 hogger is too focused on the television screen to even notice. 

“you wouldn’t expect it but those aren’t cheap.”

“then maybe you shouldn’t have given it away to a stranger.” taehyung shrugs. “but that’s just me.” 

“that was out of my control.” jungkook defends. “you should’ve seen her.” 

“well, you wouldn’t let me.” taehyung mumbles, but he obviously wanted him to hear. “no thanks. crying at the amusement park? she’s got to have some real issues.” 

“so what? we all got issues.” 

“not me,” he sends jungkook a smirk. “if i don’t acknowledge them, they’re not there.” 

“and that, my friend…” jungkook has decided to retire from his work area tonight. he pats taehyung’s shoulder as a display of faux sympathy. “is your biggest issue.” 

wearing a childish grin, he grabs the other controller from the floor.

“now, shall we rank up?” 

—

 

it’s been a few days since summer vacation started. he normally comes home to busan during the school breaks for a temporary taste of childhood bliss. he spends the entire day watching television, eating home-cooked meals, and not thinking about requirements at all.

too bad his vacation is suspended due to his adult responsibilities. 

at least that’s the excuse he used. 

his family has been staying with relatives for the past month because their home is currently under renovation. and well, jungkook’s dorm is suffocating enough on his own. staying under one roof with nine other people? hard. pass.

he may or may not be regretting that decision now, however. all of a sudden, coming home from work with a bag full of ramyeon and beer feels too depressing. even more so that he has no one to share them with. all of his friends have gone home. taehyung, too. he found someone who could temporarily fill in his place and did not think twice about leaving jungkook behind. he can’t blame him.

jungkook enters the apartment building. as always, quiet and dim. he gets that the owner is trying to save money, but isn’t it a bit too early to start turning off the lights? he rolls his eyes despite the lack of a witness. 

they are very lucky that he has grown somewhat fond of this place.

jungkook allows himself to be roped in by the only source of warm light in the lobby. he finds himself incredibly silly for being entertained by goldfishes swimming around in an aquarium, but after a hectic day, this is where his brain cools down. 

“hello everyone,” he coos at them.

do fishes even react to baby talk? he wouldn’t know. the only pet that lasted him years and is still alive is their family dog, gureum. 

“how was your day? i hope it was better than mine.” 

—

 

on the other side of the aquarium stands you, watching a boy talk to the fishes while he is blissfully unaware of your presence. an endeared smile graces your face unbeknownst to you. 

eventually, there arrives a moment when most of the fishes favor a certain side and they clear out before his eyes. 

that is when he finally notices you. 

your heart begins to race, but he appears to be more shocked than you are. you stand up straight nearly at the same time. 

despite the dark, they’re impossible to miss. his breathtaking eyes— which were filled with pure wonder and adoration only seconds ago— growing in size as soon as they saw yours. 

“i know you…” 

a bucket of ice cold water is dumped over your head. 

“the girl who cried at the dreamboat!”

and while you do not appreciate the rather ungentlemanly pointing of finger, you’re glad to be able to breathe out a sigh of relief. 

well, and there’s also the crippling shame.

you didn’t want your first impression on anyone to be the most pitiful version of yourself. 

it’s been over a month for fuck’s sake. how does he remember your face so well?

“wow,” he gapes. “you changed your hair.”

you touch your hair, feeling a little conscious. 

is that a good thing or a bad thing? 

it’s your first time changing your hair color; plus, the last time you had bangs was in middle school. it’s been weeks since you had the big transformation, but you’re not quite sure how you feel about it yet. 

“yeah, light pink…” 

“it suits you well.” 

“thanks,” is all you manage to respond with. 

a gust of awkward silence passes by. there’s the instinct to run away— knocking at your brain, pulling at your limbs. but you can’t think of an excuse. your feet won’t move… eventually you stop minding that. the goldfishes are too beautiful to look away from. they work as the perfect distraction from the other soul standing across. 

“so, um- i’ve never seen you around here.”

“i moved in today.”

“oh, i see… that makes sense.” 

you hum to fill the quietness that follows, thinking of what else you could say, but he beats you to it.

“i live at the 13th floor.“ 

what did he say? do you live on the same floor? that’s impossible.

“how about you?” 

“hm, 10!” 

you blurt out the first number that pops into your mind. you quickly pretend like you’re not freaking out inside by shifting the topic.

“do they-” you gesture to the aquarium. “do they have names?”

“names?” 

the random question seems to catch him off guard.

“none that i’m aware of.” he shakes his head. “i don’t think so- no.”

“oh…” your shoulders sag in disappointment. “that’s sad.”

but then again, you should’ve lowered your expectations and reminded yourself where you are. they were not bought as pets. they were bought for display. 

—

 

the last time jungkook saw you was over a month ago. maybe your face is a tad different because you’re not crying. the new color of your hair compliments you in a way unlike before’s yet just as beautiful. the bangs make much of the difference too. he doesn’t know how old you are, but you look younger somehow. from his point-of-view, he could say that much has changed. but not the melancholia. 

he watches you gaze into the aquarium in fascination; the lights reflect on your eyes as little twinkling stars. you’re not crying, but why can he still feel your sadness? 

he once told taehyung that if you meet again, he’d give you hell for throwing his sour gummies away. 

funny enough, that plan went out the window the second he laid his eyes on you again. 

“do you want to feed them?” he offers. 

“i already did.”

“you did?”

“i did,” you look up at him innocently, nodding. “i asked the guard.”

“aish, he didn’t tell me.” he throws his arms up with a groan. “i almost overfed them.”

you perk up with interest. “do you always feed them?” 

“when i come home from work.”

“that’s nice…” 

the soft smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn’t know it yet. 

“sorry, um-” you begin smoothing out your clothes, also tucking your hair behind your ears. “i need to get to work. it was nice meeting you.”

“work?” he exclaims. “at this time?”

“graveyard shift,” you simply answer. 

pictures of the dark alleyways immediately flash in his mind. 

“but it’s dangerous to be roaming around here at this time.” 

his radar doesn’t detect crimes being reported around the neighborhood, but with the majority of the building’s occupants being young adults, the streets are often littered with drunkards who have many things to be angry about.

“oh, i don’t walk. i’ve got a bike.”

he hasn’t known you long, but this is the most enthusiastic he has seen you. your face lit up as soon as you mentioned your mode of transportation.

however, he is a tiny bit confused.

it shows on his face, apparently.

“the motor kind,” you clarify. 

“ah, the motor kind-” he claps once as soon as the realization dawns on him. he chuckles to himself. “of course!” 

it was important for you to clarify, jungkook concludes from your tone. the fact that you own a bike is sexy, but you look adorable right now and it is so amusing to him. 

“anyway, i need to go. it was nice to meet you!” 

your heels click against the floor as you head towards the same door he walked in from.

“see you around!” he yells, still wearing a wide grin. 

he remains standing there even though you’re already gone from sight. 

hit with a useless yet concerning epiphany, he blinks.

“she rides the motorbike wearing heels?”

—

 

jungkook’s misery has been pushed to the back of his mind, replaced by an overwhelming giddiness that causes him to drop everything on the floor and jump on his bed. he buries his head into the pillow, but it does nothing to erase the happy grin that’s threatening to make his cheeks sore.

what a small world, huh? 

what is this if not fate?

he flips over and stares at the ceiling as if it’s the starry night sky.

this might just become the best summer of his life. 

—

jungkook comes out fresh from the shower clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts. he hangs the towel he was drying his hair with over his nape, heading to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. he rips the lid of the cup ramyeon halfway, and as he pours hot water into it from the electric kettle, your face appears on his mind again. 

wait, there’s something wrong…

he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to figure out what it is he forgot.

“ah, i’m so stupid!”

he totally forgot to ask your name! 

“shit!” he shouts in higher volume when he realizes that the water has overflowed and is now dripping to the floor. 

he puts the kettle down, taking a few steps back from the mess he made. praise heavens the water wasn’t hot enough for his toes to suffer anything more than a first-degree burn. 

he starts to look around for anything he can wipe the floor with, his tongue poking his inner cheek. 

“still having a bad day.” 

—

but a bad day isn’t enough to break down jungkook’s spirit. he knows there will always come a tomorrow, so he seizes that tomorrow and comes home from work as fast as he can. there’s a big chance that you leave for work around the same time, right? 

so he sits down on the sofa facing the aquarium, and he waits. 

his head turns to the elevator each time it dings.

he taps his foot on the floor.

he checks tomorrow’s weather forecast on the app. clear skies. no chance of rain. high humidity levels.

he goes through the magazines laid out on the coffee table. he learns five ways to get over heartbreak. according to the quiz, he has a sweet and passionate personality based on the flavor of his lip balm. he thinks it’s pretty accurate. strawberry, he strokes his non-existent beard. could never go wrong with it.

next thing he knows, the clock strikes twelve. 

he can no longer control his excessive yawning but his stomach is just screaming for the pack of jjajangmyeon in his cupboard. 

he presses the elevator button with a tight-lipped smile. he’s disappointed that he didn’t see you at all today, but he was raised to have a positive outlook in life. you live in the same building. you have to run into each other again one of these days. 

—

what does jungkook hate more than normal sundays? sundays when he didn’t get enough sleep. 

for some reason, he’s still tragically stuck with working on the worst day of the week despite his repeated objections. the only upside to this particular sunday is that he is assigned to the ferris wheel. in exchange for thrice the amount of his daily wage in discreet tips, what happens in some of those cabins are none of his business. 

if he ends up getting reassigned, he would be pretty fucking pissed off. 

he’s restless as the elevator descends to the ground floor. he’s munching on a protein bar, jogging in place as to warm up his body for a race to the bus stop. 

he can’t be the one manning the bump cars. bump cars are the worst. those kids hit you on purpose, he swears. 

the elevator dings and he runs.

until an eye-catching color forces him to pull the brakes. his sneakers squeak against the tiled floor. 

your back may be facing him, but he can recognize you from that cotton candy hair even from a mile away. you’re right where he was hoping you’d be last night, conversing with one of the janitors. this really isn’t the best time for your paths to cross again, given the reasons he was just grouching about, but his feet refuse to move. 

you go on your tiptoes to sprinkle fish feed into the aquarium. you’re so adorable in your pajamas; you’re almost drowning in the black and white checkered cloth. are those yours in the first place?

“everything you need to know is written here… how much- how often you should feed them depending on the seasons, depending on how big they’ve gotten… jungkook worked really hard in researching. impressive, don’t you think?”

“i see…” he is finally granted his wish to hear your soft voice. “but why don’t they have names?”

the janitor scratches his head at your question. “they look too alike to have names.” 

“hello! i heard my name!” jungkook pops in without a warning, causing mister park to flinch and slap a hand over his chest in shock. 

“jungkook! i’m 71 years old! you could’ve killed me!” 

“oh, that’s right-” he gasps. “grandpa, i’m sorry!”

jungkook attacks him with a bear hug, playfully rocking their bodies back and forth hoping that would calm down his vulnerable heart. for a brief moment, he feels like a child again. 

“this is jungkook.” 

the introduction was already made for him. that’s one less thing he has to overthink. 

“____ here wants to feed the fishes every morning from now on. i told her it’s perfectly alright with me.” the janitor laughs. “with my age, you know how forgetful i’ve become.” 

“really?” he breaks away, surprised by what he just learned. “that’s so nice!” 

“it’s nothing. i’m happy to do it.” you smile and make eye-contact with him, but you soon break it, opting to glance at the aquarium. 

you must like fishes a lot. he only felt bad for them because the janitor on night shift doesn’t give a single fuck about them; that’s why he did all that research hoping it would help with committing to the responsibility, which jungkook ended up shouldering in the end anyway. but you… you’ve been here for what? two? three days? 

“tell you what…” he brings out the pen he keeps in the side pocket of his backpack. “this- this is my phone number. if you need anything, or incase you need someone else to feed them, contact me!” 

he scribbles down his phone number on the notepad grandpa was showing you before his rude interruption. 

“by the way, my unit is 1311. you can also just-” he knocks on the thin air, clicking his tongue to mimic the sound. “knock on my door.” 

jungkook’s watch beeps twice everyday, once at 8:50am and then at 11pm sharp. the sun is burning bright and his shift starts at 9am. yes, he is nervous infront of a girl who is drop-dead gorgeous, but he should also be very much nervous about the (unfair) deduction from his measly salary. 

“okay, i need to run to work! goodbye!” 

—

so, his name is jungkook…

you crane your head to watch him rush out of the building. the uncomfortable sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor makes you grimace. 

the page he wrote his number on is ripped off from the notepad and handed to you. 

“he’s a good kid.”

you force yourself to smile, and it slowly fades as you tilt down your chin and stare at the string of numbers in blue ink.

long after the janitor has left to fulfill his long list of tasks, you remain standing by the aquarium. 

“you do have someone taking good care of you.” you whisper to the clueless fishes, caressing the glass. a genuine smile appears when two of them swim towards you, beady eyes trying to make sense of the stranger loitering around their homey cage. “you can breathe well and you’re warm in the winter. that’s a relief.” 

after feeding them, next on the agenda is to cook your own breakfast. you head for the elevator, tossing the crumpled up paper into the trash bin before pressing the arrow pointing towards north. 

—

“hyung…”

“why?” 

jungkook sighs. “can you text me?” 

“text you what?” seokjin’s forehead creases in confusion. 

“anything. i just need to make sure my phone still works.” 

thursday has been a slow day at the amusement park despite the school vacation and no one has tried to win a teddy bear since the place opened. seokjin is more than happy to spend his free time playing games on his phone in his own little corner at the amusement park. 

well, that was before jungkook got bored at the ping pong toss booth and decided to hang out at the other side of the wall. 

he shrugs and texts his younger friend the word ‘anything’ just to get him off his back. he goes back to playing his game, not curious enough to interrogate him with additional questions. 

jungkook’s text tone rings at max volume. 

“it does work!” he yells in exasperation, flopping down at his seat. “why hasn’t she texted me?”

“you were whining about the same thing the other day.” seokjin muses as his car crosses the finish line. second place. “you fool, just text her first.”

“i don’t have her number.”

“what do you mean you don’t have her number?”

“i gave her mine.” jungkook says quietly. “we live in the same building and i told her to contact me if she needs anything.”

“then i guess it’s safe to say that she doesn’t need anything from you.” 

“seriously, why can’t i have friends that are nice to me?!” 

seokjin bursts out laughing, definitely not a stranger to jungkook and taehyung’s bickering at the break room. 

“you did this one to yourself! jungkook, flirt better!” 

“easier said than done,” jungkook pouts. 

you make him nervous. his brain goes blank when you’re around. in addition to that, he doesn’t know what you’re going through and he’s scared that you’d end up pushing him away if he oversteps. 

“i gave her candy when we first met and she threw them away.” 

“oh, that’s right,” seokjin loads a new game, snorting. “taehyung told me about that.” 

jungkook’s jaw drops. “is he backstabbing me?”

—

jungkook enters the break room with yet another item from the lost-and-found. it’s been over two weeks since he found this orange beanie on the ground. must’ve fallen from the rollercoaster, that’s his best guess. 

since no one has claimed it— “finders keepers,” he grins as he stuffs it into his backpack. 

“thief,” seokjin jokingly accuses him from the other side of the table. “that’s how you were raised?”

“says the one who took the sony headphones yesterday.” 

“i won it fair and square!” 

he’d argue with the older man again, but his phone vibrating has stolen his full attention. he is hit with disappointment at the same moment that he snatches it from the table. it’s his mom, again, asking him when he’s coming home. 

“you need to stop doing that. it’s getting sad.”

he sighs, hugging his backpack to hide his pitiful face. “i am sad.” 

—

his walks home from the bus stop have always been a period for reflection and pondering. the streets of seoul are scattered with his indecision, worries, and anger. since his mother has been asking him for months, should he just go home and endure their living situation? maybe it’s better to be annoyed with the presence of people instead of being blue with a lack thereof. 

so much for being independent. he spent most of high school anticipating the day he gets to move out, now he wants nothing but to go home. he can’t help but to think that life is but a vicious cycle of wanting and losing. 

too lost in thought, he fails to realize right away that he has entered his apartment building’s vicinity. it’s the smell of cigarette smoke that brings him back to reality. the alley is dark, but he can make out the silhouette of a figure crouched down on the ground. assuming that it’s one of the guards hiding to smoke, he soundlessly enters the confined space with mischief up his sleeve. 

when he gets close enough, the first thing he sees is the tip of the cigarette still burning red as the smoker takes a puff.

a car with blinding headlights zooms past.

it becomes unmistakable then— the identity of the person ten feet away from him. 

there’s no one around here with same hair color. 

none that he knows of anyway. 

he is motionless; clueless as to what he should do. he should probably turn his back and leave. pretend this never happened. he never saw anything. 

he can’t even be hung up on the fact that you smoke. if he thinks back on his past experiences with dating, this would’ve been a turn-off, but he loses the ability to care. the smoke in his lungs is negligible when your wounded sobs are breaking his heart. it’s ridiculous that the urge to also cry is spreading fast in his system, but he had a long day and he feels really fucking shitty. 

you were going to notice his presence eventually. 

he doesn’t know what he was expecting. 

you lift your head, and eye-contact is made. none of you chooses to speak a word. 

you’re as beautiful as the day he first met you.

you stand on your feet and you step on the cigarette, on the emotional connection he swore you had, crushing it under the weight of your boot. 

he blinks away the tears threatening to escape his eyes. he should say something; offer an apology for intruding on a vulnerable moment, but you walk past him before he could form the words, shoulder harshly bumping against him. 

could have it been on purpose? 

“____!” he says your name for the first time, for what sounds like a plea. he follows you home like a lost puppy. “i’m sorry, i-i wasn’t… i thought you were another person… are you okay?”

“what do you think?” you spit out. the delicate voice he knows isn’t there, gone harsh and hoarse. 

“is there anything i can do?”

no response. 

he tries again. “anything at all?” 

“oh my god, can’t you take a hint? leave me alone!” 

your sudden outburst sends him stumbling backwards, the sensation of your hands on his chest still lingering despite the distance that was forcefully created between the two of you. 

“i don’t know you! stay away from me!” 

your infuriated voice echoes throughout the lobby. he is shocked. dumbfounded. his eyes, out of focus, seek your face, and he finds you heaving with tearful eyes. 

he makes an attempt to speak, something to defend himself with, but in the end, he still says, “i’m sorry.” 

a woman walks out of the elevator, and you immediately enter without looking back. jungkook remains standing where he is, with strangers’ eyes on him as if he has committed a grave crime.

—

you slam the door shut, hand still covering your mouth shut despite no one being around to hear your cries. you don’t bother turning on the lights. your shoulder bag falls somewhere on the floor and you collapse on the bed, still in your jeans and your heels hanging off your feet. 

nothing matters anymore.

you’re suffering the punishment of somebody else’s crime. you’ve been casted out, stripped away of your dreams and your dignity. your life is over and you’ve accepted that, but maybe you haven’t. all is unfair. you’re so fucking angry but you’re too tired to feel it. and you’re alone. so alone. no one is on your side and it’s not fair. 

you try to scream out, anything to release your pent-up rage, but it doesn’t happen. apparently, that’s what happens when enough people tell you to bite your tongue raw. 

they say we curl up into the fetal position as a natural response to stress and anxiety because it mimics the sense of security we had when we were in our mother’s womb. the way you see it, your body will always be yours and it is the only one that you need.

so you curl up and you put your arms around yourself. you pat your own back until your wrist falls limp from exhaustion, and you keep your eyes closed until you fall into a deep sleep.  

you pray to god that you never wake up.

—

you fail to achieve peace even in your dreams. in what is supposedly an imaginary land, you were being chased by faceless agitators with torches and pitchforks. you were crying and screaming, running on bare and bloody feet, tripping on branches and the stones they were throwing. 

you open your eyes to darkness.

just as you predicted; nobody listens. 

you feel nothing anymore and you hope it stays that way. if you can’t escape it, then perhaps, you can be desensitized to its horrors. 

you force yourself to sit up on the bed, spending an unknown length of time staring into the void. 

the first coherent thought formed in your head… no, not a thought… a person. 

your bare feet brave the cold floor. the switch of the desk lamp is flicked as you sit at your desk. you grab a pen to write something on the free space of your opened journal pages. 

under those numbers, you note down the name of the owner in cursive.

—

after the shitshow that transpired earlier, sleep became impossible for jungkook. 

he doesn’t quite understand how he feels about you. however, it’s currently clear that there’s a part of him that’s pissed off. you made yourself very clear. he should maintain distance from now on. that’s the sensible, respectable thing to do. at this point, attempts at initiating any form of relationship with you appear to be futile. you’re a stranger to him, as you emphasized. this shouldn’t be as complicated as it is in his head… but fuck, the memories of your tear-stained face is corrupting his ability to rationalize.

it’s 2:33am. he’s been playing the guitar infront of the camera for an hour and a half already. the comment section is flooded by sleep-deprived people like him, sending song requests and questions about his personal life. 

yes, he’s about to be in third year college. 

no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. 

no, he can’t mention where he lives… but sure, he can sing ‘beautiful’ by crush. 

“what do you mean? i just finished playing it ten seconds ago!” he squints as he scrolls through the new wave of comments. “sorry, art commissions are still closed. i’m behind on my workload… no, i’m not sleepy! don’t send me to bed yet… knees by iu? i love that song. should i play that next?”

his phone vibrates with a new text message, nearly causing it to fall from the stack of books he set it up on. 

“oh- what was tha- what do i do? wait, everyone. i need to check on something!”

the live is temporarily put on pause. 

“who is this?”

his eyebrows knit in confusion when he is greeted by an unregistered phone number.

  2:45am

hi, jungkook. this is ____. i wanted to apologize for my behavior at the lobby earlier. i understand you were only concerned. i’m so sorry. i’d love to buy you coffee some time to make it up to you, if that’s ok. 

this is real, right? he’s awake. he’s not hallucinating. the text message indicates your name and it says that you’d love to buy him coffee some time. 

a gasp leaves his mouth, his hand flying up to seal his lips. 

you texted him. you finally texted him.

he was starting to get convinced that you also threw away his number, but you didn’t! 

he weakly sets down the phone, brain still processing the message you sent. does this make sense?

“i shouldn’t reply right away… maybe in the morning…” he nods to affirm myself. “that’s right.” 

he begins chuckling out of nowhere. soon enough, those chuckles become chortles. he must be going insane. he picks up the phone and reads the message again. 

“she sounds pretty even in chat. how is that possible?” he spins on his chair, so carefree. “but honestly, is one coffee enough for what she did?” 

he shakes his head with a click his tongue. 

“i don’t think so…”

hold on…

it feels like he’s forgetting something…

“ah, the live!” he jumps on his seat in panic. 

he swipes out of the text message to go back to the app where he abandoned his thousand viewers.

“sorry, i made money.” he mumbles to himself. “i should end it now.” 

—

his mood has done a 180. his routine consists of feeding the fishes dinner, and then himself, but he decided to skip the second part earlier for reasons that he has forgotten by now. 

his stomach growls at his selfish decision. 

given the time, he considered food delivery, but the fee made him exit the app immediately. he hasn’t gone to the grocery store as of recent either. the fridge has been wasting electricity, but his pride won’t let him turn it off. 

how did people live without convenience stores before? that is what jungkook marvels about as he crosses the long hallway to reach the elevator. 

a door ahead opens, and he would ignore it if not for one of the two people who comes out from the other side of it. 

there is a man in his late 20’s, and then there is… you. 

you are the deer and jungkook is the blinding headlights. 

—

the coffee you originally offered jungkook has turned into a full meal. when you arrived at the convenience store, he knew what he wanted right away. he grabbed the biggest cup of ramyeon and tteokbokki, an egg, sausage, and cheese. he refused to let you pay for them at first, but there was nothing left to do after you handed the cashier the money. 

the action was done out of obligation rather than will, but seeing how much he’s enjoying the food, you’re a little less displeased with the circumstances. 

“is that all you’re eating? we can share mine.” 

“it’s okay. i’m not that hungry.” 

with the money you had left, you were able to afford a roll of gimbap. maybe it’s not enough to make you full, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. you slowly chew the food in your mouth, an effort to hide your smile as you discretely observe jungkook devour his rabokki. 

“the man from earlier, is he your brother?”

your chewing is put on pause. “how did you know?” 

“how? it’s easy!” 

he cheekily points at his nose using his chopsticks. 

“you have the exact same nose.” 

“ugh,” you grimace. “i’m tired of hearing that.” 

your list of similarities ends there. he’s the golden child and you’re the black sheep. if your parents find out that he comes to visit you and he sends you money, they’d only see you in worse light.

“i know,” jungkook scrunches his nose. “i have an older brother too.” 

cute. 

“so… why did you lie?”

he’s seriously asking you like this? so casually?

you awkwardly set down your food on the table and you take your time sipping at your coffee to buy yourself some time.

—

“i was embarrassed with what happened before… me crying at the boat and everything…”

you’re having a hard time looking at jungkook in the eye. sensing your discomfort, he wants to punch himself for being so careless with his tone. until moments before, he felt too offended to consider the fact that you never owed him an explanation. 

“you don’t have to be. it’s okay.” he reassures you. “we all have bad days.”

it doesn’t work the way that he thought it would. when you start laughing, he is lost. 

“did i say something funny?” he chuckles along nervously. 

“that quote, ‘it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.’” 

“yeah?” 

“it’s the opposite for me. it’s not just a bad day; it’s a bad life.”  

you speak with such endearing humor and it works like a charm in making the atmosphere lighter. he’d pass it off as a self-deprecating joke, but based on your few yet impactful encounters so far, he doesn’t think you’re stretching the truth far. if he’s being honest, if your first meeting happened differently, he’d assume that you’re living a perfectly comfortable life based on your appearance alone.

“even now, i’m too embarrassed to show my face to you. but we’re neighbors, so i’ll try to get over it.”

“tell you what, let’s start with a clean slate.” he eagerly makes a proposal. “you can erase all the embarrassing memories of you from my brain.”

“h-how do i do that?” 

“flick my forehead!”

you blink, eyes darting around as you try to make sense of what he said. “i was expecting some sort of stupid hypnosis.”

“or that,” he switches up, slapping the table as if you just came up with something revolutionary. 

why did he say flick his forehead anyway? he knows you gotta have an overwhelming amount of pent-up emotions. you could go deku on him and blow his head off. 

“let’s do that!”

“no, i like it.” you almost interrupt him. “i’ll flick your forehead.” 

but he did suggest it… and you act so gentle and sophisticated. he doubts that you would make it hurt. 

“here i go!”

he gets his bangs out of the way. “okay!”

he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for impact. “please have mercy.” 

son of a bitch. that hurt. 

“ow!” he rubs the affected area, face twisting in pain. his eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “you didn’t hold back, huh?!” 

you smile at him sweetly. “did it work?”

  —

“you fed them, right?”

“of course i did. you?”

“yes, this morning.”

“okay, that’s good.”

you and jungkook sit in silence after that, eyes twinkling with wonder as they follow the stunning movements of the goldfishes. 

deep inside, he’s feeling restless. you make him nervous, and he’s also nervous about you noticing that he’s nervous. it’s been a tireless cycle. 

he sneaks a glance at you.

perhaps he’s overthinking again. it seems like you don’t even care that he’s less than an arm’s length from you. 

he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. 

he sighs without a sound, comfortably leaning all of his weight on the couch. 

“it’s called the dreamboat.”

“what is?” 

the boat you cried in— can’t say that. you might flick his forehead again. 

“at the amusement park.” 

“oh…”

it falls silent. 

jungkook is thankful when you have a follow-up question because he hasn’t thought of a new topic yet. 

“i wonder why they called it that.”

“oh, because the owner’s daughter loves boats!” he shares one of the few fun facts he learned over the past year. “that’s why it was designed like it came from a fairy tale too.” 

a mirthful smile forms on your face “my guess was too far off.” 

“what was it?” 

“mhmm,” you hum, folding your arms over your chest. “dreamboat is a word used to describe a handsome man, right?”

jungkook nods his head like he knew that all along. no, he didn’t. 

“so i imagined the owner met their handsome partner on a boat- no, or a ship,” the epiphany hits you in the middle of your sentence. “they have to be rich since they built an amusement park.”

a romantic. you imagined a love story based on a word alone. jungkook’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he tries to tame his wide grin. 

“that does sound like a good theory.” he casually bends over, resting his elbows over his spread thighs. “i think i like it better than the truth.”

“how did you know that though? the truth?”

he shrugs. “i work there.”

“you work there?” your voice goes up a pitch. “i didn’t know…”

“you? do you study or work?”

“call center,” you answer to get it over with. to his surprise, your body language shifts and you’re now facing him. “what’s it like working there? is it fun?” 

apparently, a job at the amusement park is now joining his very short list of your interests: after motorbikes, smoking, and fishes.

“it has good days and bad days…” he trails off. he hasn’t truly given this much thought, so he’s also learning about himself. “but i didn’t expect it to be as fun as it is. sometimes it’s boring, but when it’s fun, it’s really fun.”

you scoot closer. “do you get to ride for free?”

ah, yes, the deciding factor when he was offered the job. 

“there’s an employee discount, actually! but i do it for free anyway…” he shyly scratches his head. “don’t tell anyone i said that.” 

“i don’t have anyone to tell.” 

his heart skips a beat when he hears your laugh genuinely for the first time. quiet and delicate and airy— you grace this blue summer night like a spring breeze that takes away with it everything that burdens your mind and heart. 

once again, the aquarium becomes the most interesting collection of atoms in the building. as for him, he is still unable to keep his eyes off you. 

“did you have a pet fish growing up? you really like them a lot.”

“no,” you reply. “i didn’t care about them until now.”

“really?” his eyes grow wide. “wow, i seriously thought you were a marine life enthusiast, or something like that.” 

you give him a look. “i thought you were a marine life enthusiast.”

“we were both wrong.” he shrugs. “but what made you care about them so much now?”

“i don’t know. i just thought of something when i was looking at them.” 

he feels your hesitance to continue. your eyes connect briefly and he communicates that he’s listening with an open mind.

“they’re different from other pets, you know, like cats and dogs. they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.” 

in the dark room, he sees the melancholy seeping from the cracked edges of you. although you act relaxed, your spoken thoughts paint the picture of a person whose sensitivity and sympathy touch upon everything. 

“there should at least be somebody who cares enough to check up on them and make sure that they’re alive and well.” 

“…and you wanted to be that somebody for them.” he concludes with a hushed voice, more to himself than you. 

“but it turns out they have you already.”

“it’s not just me now.”

he mirrors your soft smile. it’s nice to see your frown turned upside down for a change. what was weighing down on him has become lighter, and he hopes it’s the same for you.

“the sun is about to rise.” you announce after a peek at the grandfather clock. “we should go home.”

jungkook isn’t a big fan of comfortable silence, but he can get used to it. he maintains a respectable distance from you in the elevator, engaging himself with the ascending number of floors on the screen. when the door opens, you’re the first to step out and he follows suit. 

your destination isn’t far. you pause in front of unit 1303.

“uhm, this is me.” 

yup, the same door he saw you come out of. 

“i’m not far, just at the end of the hall. 1311, if you ever need anything.”

your eyes trace the direction of where he’s pointing before you nod in understanding. with a hand gripping the door handle, you offer him one final smile.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

—

if others cheese over good morning texts first thing after opening their eyes, then jungkook’s case is one of a kind. 

he rolls over to his side, puffy eyes from sleep forming thinner crescent moons as he zooms in on your reflection on the glass. 

  10:08am

[attached image]

they’re happy and fed :)

10:10am

[attached image]

babies are getting bigger

this is how his mornings have been going for the past two weeks. he wakes up and he checks his phone for fish breakfast updates from you. in return, he sends fish dinner updates to you at night. he was the first one to send you a picture following the night you awkwardly bumped into each other. he didn’t want to wait around anymore.

were his palms sweaty? did he throw his phone on the bed after? 

no longer relevant. 

he now knows that your favorite color is blue and you have wednesdays and fridays off for the next month. that’s pretty cool. 

another thing he’s taken notice of is that you don’t use emojis or emoticons aside from the smiley face. 

although, there was once a miracle.

he scrolls up until he reaches your conversation from four days ago.

  11:59pm

LOL i’m actually allergic to seafood ㅜㅜ

😭😭😭

“ah, i’m annoyed!” he kicks his feet; half of the blanket falls to the floor. “she’s so cute!” 

things are indeed going great, greater than he imagined, but if he has to complain, he wishes he could see you in person more. he’s at work when you’re home and vice versa, so you don’t cross paths despite living on the same apartment floor. that 3am encounter was a rare phenomenon, it turns out. he chanced upon you a few times while running to work and you were feeding the fishes breakfast, but those conversations were barely conversations. 

‘i just thought of something when i was looking at them… they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.’

he hasn’t stopped thinking about that. 

—

“when are you asking her out on a date?”

taehyung is on a mission to tease him for life even from daegu. he’s only thankful that his best friend isn’t video calling him from the toilet again because he’s currently having his lunch. 

“i don’t know.” he grouches. “it doesn’t feel like the right time. i don’t want to scare her off.” 

“when’s that ‘right time’?” 

“i’ll figure it out…” he sighs, setting down the half-eaten sandwich on the table. “how do i say it…? i feel like- hm, she’s no- she’s not in the best emotional state right now.” 

“so you admit it,” taehyung raises an eyebrow, smirking. “she has issues.”

that didn’t sit right with jungkook at all. he feels obligated to defend your honor. 

“hey, stop being rude. you haven’t even met her yet.” 

“come on, bro! i’m only looking out for you.” 

the atmosphere shifts into a more serious tone.

“i don’t want you to get hurt trying to fix another person again. it was hard to watch.”

he moved on and learned his lesson— he wants to spit out as a rebuttal, but his best friend gave him much to think about. would it make sense to say that he’s moved on but he hasn’t healed? 

“i know,” is what he ends up saying absentmindedly, distracted by thoughts that he isn’t keen on sharing. 

and as if he’s been slapped back into reality, he fixes his posture and picks up his sandwich. “so, what’s up? have you even slept yet?”

“no,” taehyung responds nonchalantly. between the two of them, he absolutely has the more fucked up sleeping schedule. “i’ve been awake since 12am.”

“didn’t you say you’d spend the entire vacation sleeping?”

“this vacation was a trap.”

the camera darts to the abandoned mop on the floor.

“my mom makes me do all the chores everyday. this is worse than my actual job!” 

a devilish grin is drawn on jungkook’s face. ah, the grass is always greener on the other side.

  

—

“mondays stay to be a pain in the ass.”

does it look like he’s exhausted and dirty from chasing around children all day? jungkook is stressed as he checks himself out on his front camera. he’s walking home from the bus stop after clocking out of work. 

the street is mostly quiet, until a roaring engine approaches and he cringes at the raucous sound assaulting his eardrums. he’s already at the sidewalk for his safety and in accordance with the law, but he feels compelled to stay further back and wait for the vehicle to pass by. 

seconds later, a black harley races past.

jungkook is dumbfounded as he tries to piece the puzzle together. 

the lights are bright, and your pink hair blowing with the wind is even brighter. 

“w-was that…?”

—

he was going to bring it up over text last night, but he decided to reserve it for physical conversation because he wants to see your face light up again. 

you’re so fucking cool. 

he’s both amazed and envious. 

also, he’s pretty damn sure that you’re rich. he doesn’t understand why you’re living in this place and enduring the graveyard shift at the call center. 

a foolish smile is permanently plastered on his face as he sketches a commissioned digital portrait. he really should focus, or else he might end up drawing you instead of his client. 

he spins on his chair, pushing the wheels towards the bed, where he comfortably extends his feet over. almost missed it. the power has been out for an hour and he doesn’t expect it to come back until dawn. he was pissed about this being a normal occurrence during the first year of his stay here, but he’s gotten quite used to it. invested in a powerbank that almost looks like it can charge a car’s battery and he’s all set. 

the aggressive pounding at the door drowns out the pop ballad he’s listening to.

“what? who could it be at this hour?” 

he pauses the song, turning up the brightness of his ipad to use it as a makeshift flashlight. 

the last person he expected to appear at his door says the last thing he expected them to say. 

“jungkook, i think there’s a ghost in my apartment.”

—

jungkook sets down a hot cup of tea infront of you. in his mind, he thanks himself for keeping everything his mom sends him, even the things he do not like. 

“thanks,” you mumble, picking it up by the handle. 

he patiently sits on the other side of the table for two, giving you the time to calm yourself down from the horror that you witnessed. he has his emergency light propped up on the kitchen counter. he was saving it for when he finds himself in a grave situation, like a total blackout or an apocalypse. he didn’t imagine he’d end up using it for an unusual night like this. 

“are you feeling better?” he asks worriedly.

you nod. “yeah, i just don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“i’m here. you can stay until whenever you want.”

“thank you.”

you sigh with your eyes closed. you look like life has been drained out of you. 

“i’m really scared, jungkook.”

“are you sure about what you saw? i mean, it’s dark. your mind could’ve been playing tricks on you.”

“i saw him. i really him saw him!” you frantically defend yourself. “i was washing my hands then i turned around and i saw him, sitting at the edge of my bed! he looked at me!” 

his heart drops to his stomach when your chin begins to wobble and he sees your eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“and his skin was burnt off, jungkook.” you enunciate the words to emphasize the severity of what you experienced. “it’s so horrifying, i had to run.” 

“hey hey hey- it’s okay. i believe you.” he squeezes your cold, trembling hands. “you’re safe now. it’s only us here. no spirits- i promise.” 

he’s losing his mind a little bit. he’s holding the hands of the girl he likes and her pinky is wrapped around his. you’ve been putting him through a rollercoaster that, for once, he is terrified of. he wants to bask in this moment… but the specific detail you revealed is bothering him.

“and you said… he was burnt?” 

“yeah, why?”

he presses his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “no, it’s nothing.”

“there’s something.” you stop crying. “i see it on your face.”

“i swear, it's nothing!”

“you’re lying!” you accuse him. “what is it?”

“forget it, ____.”

“jungkook,” you say his name sternly. “tell me.”

shit, he’s done for. you can’t do this to him when he’s trying to protect you.

he swallows nervously. “but i don’t want to scare you.” 

“i saw a ghost. what else can scare me?”

“the truth is…” he pauses, still weighed down by hesitance. but he realizes he has reached the point of no return. also, you’re squeezing his hands a little too tight. “this building had to be restored. it burned down a decade ago. people suspect there was foul play, but the firemen said it was faulty wiring.” 

he’s the one telling the story, but he also feels chills run down his spine. 

“oh… so you’re saying…”

“i… believe so?” he winces with a mix of guilt and fear. “but it’s the first time i’m hearing of a ghost story here. i haven’t had any encounter either.” 

“i need to move.” you declare, not an ounce of humor in your voice. 

“don’t!” he protests. 

perhaps a little too passionately. could he be any more obvious? 

“what do you mean? you need to leave too!”

“i can’t,” he fakes a pained expression. “who’s going to take care of the fishes?” 

that works like a charm. 

you untangle your hands and lean against the chair, transforming into a pensive state. 

if he wasn’t going to convince you to stay, the fishes would. 

“fuck,” you curse in a low whisper, sipping on your tea. 

—

“i’m not the spoiled brat you think i am.” you frown, dangling your feet from the bed. “i sleep on the floor too.” 

“i’d be rude if i let you do that.” jungkook insists as he fluffs his pillow. “i’m comfortable right here. i’m used to it.” 

he was relieved that you weren’t stubborn enough to go back to your place and force yourself to sleep there. after seeing how terrified you were, it would’ve been impossible for him to close his eyes and shut down his brain from worrying. he hasn’t seen a ghost, but they have to be real. he likes to believe that we do not cease to exist and we have some place to go when we die. however, that does co-exist with being alarmed by a ghost of a burnt body sitting on your bed. he isn’t going to let you go back in there tonight. no way.

“you should get some rest. just tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“thank you, jungkook.” 

“it’s no problem!”

his name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips. he can’t help but to feel giddy every time he hears it. 

you lie down on the bed, facing the portable fan strategically set up on jungkook’s gaming chair. on the other hand, the emergency light is at the nightstand, acting as a night lamp. 

he checks the time on his ipad: 1:48am. his battery percentage: 55%. he’s not yet sleepy, so he decides to continue working until he gets the low battery warning for 20%. 

sitting down without back support becomes too uncomfortable after a while, especially when drawing. he doesn’t realize it when he changes positions, too focused on drawing the intricate floral patterns on the client’s blouse. 

“is that your girlfriend?” 

jungkook turns his head towards the voice and your face is only inches away from his. the word stops for a moment.

“is she okay with me sleeping here?” 

he scoots a little further away to grant his racing heart some mercy. “u-uhmm, no.”

“no…?” you repeat slowly, sounding concerned.

“no, as in she’s not my girlfriend!” he further elaborates in distress. “i don’t have a girlfriend.”

“okay, cool. you scared me.” you huff out a chuckle. “i don’t like being the girl who causes problems.” 

“no, you’re safe.” he manages to also laugh. “no one’s coming to pull your hair.”

“then who is she?” you point at the screen with your pouted lips, particularly the reference photo that’s been burnt to his memory. 

“a client. people pay me to draw them.”

“oh, so she’s one of your french girls?” you crack a humorous remark.

the reference catches him off guard, even though he should’ve totally seen it coming.

he squints. “mhmmm, i guess? kind of like that… except they’re not, you know, naked.”

“i see,” you hum in interest. “you don’t like doing nude drawings?” 

“honestly? i don’t know. i’ve never done it before.” 

“no one’s asked you?”

he shakes his head. “no one,”

“would you do mine if i ask you to?” 

he secretly pinches his thigh to prove that he’s not dreaming. 

what the fuck?

did he hear you right? 

it sounded like such a genuine and casual question in the name of art, but the worst thing he could do while his crush is sleeping over is to imagine her naked. he feels the warmth spread across his cheeks, possibly reaching his ears. 

“hey, breathe!” you giggle with a push of his shoulder. “you don’t have to answer that. sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“sorry, i was just surprised.” 

he forces himself to laugh and act like the question isn’t putting him through a crisis in so many levels. 

“i’ll let you finish your work.” you smile at him, pulling up the blanket. 

please do and stop shaking up my heart. 

“goodnight.” 

“goodnight, ____.” 

—

jungkook is still flustered by the conversation. since you opened up the topic, he did give it some serious thought. he thinks he wouldn’t mind if someone asked him to do it. he makes all of his negotiations and transactions online so everyone so far have been a stranger. as for the people he personally know, unless it’s his significant other, wouldn’t it be awkward? 

anyway, the chances of it happening are low. stressing over it is pointless.

he needs to finish this commission and move on to the next, or else he’d be encumbered by the pile of deadlines. he’s making the most out of this vacation so he can save more money and work won’t have to interfere so often with his studies. 

sometimes he doesn’t understand why he works so hard either. his family isn’t struggling financially. in fact, he’s studying to take over their businesses. his parents have been nothing but kind and supportive, but he is never compelled to ask them for money. he feels this strong and all-consuming need to prove himself as capable and independent. nothing compares to the gratification of buying his wants and needs with the money he sacrificed his blood, sweat, and tears for. he can’t stop himself.

“i can’t sleep…” a quiet murmur reaches his ears. “may i watch you draw?” 

oh, he thought you’ve fallen asleep twenty minutes ago. 

“of course,” 

he is more than happy to move closer to give you a good view of his progress. 

if there’s one thing he isn’t ashamed to boast about— it’s this. 

it’s silent except for your breathing and the taps of his pen on the screen. he’s a tad self-conscious with the presence of engrossed eyes, but he would describe the atmosphere as peaceful. 

“you’re such a great artist.” you whisper in awe. 

jungkook can’t recall the last time he felt this simple yet profound type of joy. 

—

true to your words, you did move as morning came. 

jungkook wakes up to an empty bed and a commotion outside. 

“____?” 

he knocks on the bathroom door, not expecting it to swing open from the action. he takes his chances and peeks inside with another call of your name, but you’re still nowhere to be seen. 

did you really leave without saying goodbye? 

he sighs in disappointment. he was planning on buying you breakfast, too. he knew it. he should’ve made the invitation last night. 

a series of loud thumps prompts him to scratch his head in irritation. he’s tired and sleep-deprived and he didn’t see his crush’s face first thing in the morning. the day has barely started and it’s already a bad one.

he opens the door with a considerable force, mouth running before his eyes could perceive his surroundings. 

“could you guys turn it down? people are still slee-”

“jungkook! you’re awake.” 

you jog over to him with a more cheery expression than last night’s. there’s no windows but the sun is shining over his face.

“sorry about the noise. i’m moving to a new unit.”

he can see that, but his brain remains in a muddled state. how did you make the arrangements overnight? he gapes at the men hauling your things to your new apartment.

“1309?” he exclaims.

“yeah,” you shyly reply. “it’s the only vacant one left.” 

almost but not quite. does he have the right to complain? you’d be one door away. 

he’s fucking ecstatic. 

if he just sets aside the fact that it took a ghastly ghost encounter for the stars to align. 

the wrinkles on his forehead disappear and become crinkles by his eyes, accompanied by an excited beam. 

“should we feed them together then grab breakfast after?” 

—

time passes by too fast for jungkook’s liking. summer vacation ended a month ago and he’s back to busting his ass off at the university. he misses the days and nights when the only thing he was going insane about is you. 

what’s taking you so long to reply? did he say something stupid? does he look nice? smell nice? are you crying again? that ghost isn’t bothering you again, is he? 

now that he needs to focus on something less interesting, say studying taxation and business law for subsequent long quizzes tomorrow, he’s back to crushing cans of energy drinks. 

fuck, he misses you. 

your purple hair tie is still wrapped around the knob of his bathroom sink faucet and he keeps forgetting to give it back to you. you make him nervous but he forgets he ever felt that way after five minutes with you. he craves to be connected with you on a more intimate level. he wants to be more than just a neighbor you make small talk with, over text. he wants to be more than a friend you sometimes eat with, on your days off. but he likes you so much that he can be content with the way things are, so long as it means you won’t go further away. 

he’s absolutely pumped to hear his friends berate him for being stupid enough to enjoy the bare minimum from a woman. 

an email notification interrupts his intense cramming session with his ipad and his illegally downloaded ebooks.

No Name

Subject: IMPORTANT! READ ME! 

snack break at the aquarium? 

he already has a strong inkling on who the sender could be; he clicks the email address and unsurprisingly, it says that it’s you. 

did you seriously go out of your way to email him because he told you that he was going to keep his phone turned off while studying? 

ridiculous. 

so cute and ridiculous. 

—

“i brought your favorite.” you meekly present your gift to jungkook. “uh, actually i’m not sure if it’s your favorite. but it’s become mine since you gave it to me.”

jungkook gapes at the bag of his favorite gummies sitting on his lap. just for comparison, the packet he gave you that day you first met came from his pocket. this one is almost as wide as his thighs slightly spread apart. 

but most importantly, what did you just say?

“y-you didn’t throw it away?”

“what are you saying?” you pout, a little hurt by the question. “why would i throw it away?”

“you should’ve. you can’t just accept food from strangers!” 

he was being pretty before. he humbly admits that. he just wanted an excuse to bring you up so he whined about it for weeks, but he was never genuinely upset. not specifically about that, anyway.

“why are you so upset?” you match the rise of his voice. “i’m fine and we ended up being friends. now say ‘thank you’ and open it!”

“ah, sure-” he panics, fumbling with the zigzag edges of the packaging. you were kind of hot for that. “thank you! this was seriously so thoughtful of you.” 

you nod in satisfaction, stealing a gummy worm the second that the plastic is torn open. “you’re welcome!”

—

  “i should stop eating.” jungkook mumbles to himself, chewing the other half of his nth gummy worm of the night. 

“yeah,” you agree, pulling your hand away from the bag with an impressive show of restraint. “we should.”

the two of you probably look bizarre in the eyes of strangers, particularly those who have seen you one too many nights admire the golden creatures like you’re being hypnotized and nothing else in the world matters. jungkook never knows what’s running in your head, but to him, these moments are all about being beside you. the loud beating of his heart could be attributed to the caffeine, or the bare skin of your knees touching and no one daring to move. 

“the tank feels…” there is a delay as you search for the appropriate word. “dull. can’t there be more variety of plants?” 

“i tried,” he laughs at the funny memory you evoked. “when i came back the next day, two of them already ate everything.”  

you gasp. “everything? is that normal?” 

he opens his mouth to speak, but you unknowingly interrupt him with a raise of your hand.

“okay, i’m searching on naver.” 

jungkook behaves for the fifteen minutes that follow, sneaking a peek at your phone screen every now and then with squinted eyes. you read fast, and your knees shake when you have to think hard. they’re small things. they don’t matter that much. but they’re still parts of your entirety which he is to be well-aquainted with. 

“according to this person, we can try giving them marimo moss balls to play with… and hmmm-” you hum, lips puckering into a pout. “then for plants, anubias and java ferns?” 

“i still know the address of the place i bought the plants from before. we can go when you’re free.” he offers, jumping on the opportunity to spend time with you outside of this building. 

“you free sunday?” 

“is the afternoon alright? i have to go to uni in the morning.” 

please say yes.

“sure, that works.”

he breaks into a triumphant smile. 

yes! 

—

jungkook has been looking forward to this day all week. he breezed through work and college, motivated to finish all his tasks so he could enjoy his time with you without any worries. he knows it’s not a date, but anyone can be excited to meet up with a friend.

“you look pretty.” he smiles, breaking the silence in the elevator. 

“you can barely see my face.” 

“i see it!”

your nonchalance slowly fades, seemingly replaced by unease, which confuses jungkook. you put on a white face mask from the pocket of your hoodie before facing him. 

“now you don’t!” you banter with him playfully. 

“too late,” he sticks his tongue out. “i can draw it from memory.” 

this is your usual day outfit, a basic classic. a hoodie paired with shorts and sneakers. the face mask is part of it too. in a crowd, you could be anyone, even him, if only your hair doesn’t stand out among the neutrals. he likes it. he likes how you match outfits without trying to. you get more dressed up at night, which makes sense since you go to work. 

“so you can draw me even if i flash you just once?” 

scandalized, he almost chokes on his own spit. “____!”

“i’m joking!” you giggle.

“no, please do it.” he encourages you in jest.

that earns him a slap on the face. he touches the affected area. it didn’t hurt at all, you did it with a light hand, but he gapes at you dumbstruck. 

“you can joke about it but i can’t?!” 

you only laugh at his reaction. he also imagines that he looks funny. not long after, the elevator opens and you drag him out by his hand.

—

the cashier pushes back your extended hand. “sorry, we don’t accept card payments.” 

while you pout sadly at the rejection, jungkook rushes to grab the wallet that you made him hide because this was your ‘idea.’ 

“here,” he puts down the paper bills on the counter.

“i’ll pay you back.” 

“no, it’s fine. my treat for the fishes since they’d probably eat them anyway.” he jokes to comfort you.

“yeah, okay,” you respond listlessly. “then i’ll buy our dinner. samgyupsal?”

“call!” 

jungkook guesses you have come to know him well too. 

“okay, let’s go.”

he invites you to leave after the cashier gives him the paper bag. as you walk out together, your shoulders brush, and for a brief moment, he assumes that you would cling to him. he doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. you never do. he continues walking and he doesn’t even notice that he has left you behind.

the door is half-open and he’s stood in place, eyes scanning the store like he just lost a child at the mall. 

of course, he finds you hunched over infront of an aquarium inhabited by a betta fish. 

“do you want to get it?” he whispers, mindful of scaring away the little creature. “i don’t think i’ve seen a purple fish before.”

not even in art or television. it’s strange. 

he feels your eyes glued to him. persuaded by curiosity, he turns his cheek. 

his breathing stops when he sees your face so close. 

he doesn’t know you removed your mask. you’re staring at him so intensely with those beautiful  eyes, sparkling with the reflections of light. you’re dazzling, and intimidating, and it’s doing dangerous things to his heart.

a little nudge and he’d give you an eskimo kiss. 

if there’s a perfect romantic moment to kiss your lips, he’d say it’s right now. 

“it’s not the fish i want.” 

he doesn’t hear you. 

do you see how entranced he is by your lips? 

“the shipwreck, it’s beautiful.”

his eyes chase the sight of them when you return your gaze to the aquarium. 

“like you,” the words slip out without thought.

—

a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. you blink away the tears and you stomach the heavy in your chest. you know jungkook is still staring at you with those bedroom eyes and there was no deep thought behind his compliment. will he still find you beautiful when he sees who you are beyond the surface? 

“like me…”

— 

after dinner, you and jungkook planted the plants and installed the shipwreck you wanted. it was not cheap, but it was worth it, if it meant seeing your priceless joy. he carries around more cash than necessary when he goes out with you. he’s praying that you didn’t see his sigh of relief when the waiter said the restaurant accepts card. he doesn’t know much about your circumstances, why you stopped going to school and why you opted to work instead, but he knows you lead a lifestyle different from his. he’s not ignorant. he estimates your bag is five times more expensive than his ipad. but with how you’re soundly sleeping on his shoulder, he can say that it’s justified. 

he learns that you’ve been working straight for fifteen days, with 10-20 hours of overtime per week. you practically live there. he can feel the weight of your shoulders on him, which is why he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up despite his bladder’s need of the bathroom. this is probably the closest he will ever be to you. he can’t be the one to walk away in this memory. 

the humming noise of the aquarium’s filter fills the silence.

it always feels like he’s dreaming when he’s with you.

“after all that money we spent, we should really name them now.” 

you release the yawn you were holding back while speaking, head dropping on his shoulder. jungkook stiffens at the suddenness of the physical contact, but then relaxes thanks to the tranquilizing scent of your shampoo— it has to be coconut, with some sort of flowers that perfectly compliment it.  

“have any ideas?”

“yes,” he hears the smile in your voice. “you know those two who have similar hues?”

he hums, body vibrating underneath your soft cheek.

“tangerine, and then clementine for the smaller one.” 

“those are cute names.”

“you like them?”

“yes, they really sound like siblings!”

“okay, i won.” you shrug your shoulders as far as they can go, as if you’re so pleased you could burst. “that’s settled. your turn!”

“hmmm…” 

he unconsciously bounces his knee as he racks his brain, which you swat with a disapproving noise, mumbling “making me dizzy!”

“sorry,” he winces.

your giggles are infectious, bringing tickles somewhere deep inside of him, butterflies in his stomach coming alive like spring only arrived. 

“shouldn’t we at least have one named after a flower?” he suggests. “hold on, i’ll search for good ones.”

“let’s give the flower name to the yellow one. she stands out, like a flower.”

you blink wearily, a soft smile amidst the haze, sent to the yellow fish who swam closer as if it heard itself being called. 

he reads the list of yellow flower names out loud.  

“sunflower, daisy, azalea… for-forthysia? lily, cosmos, dahlia-”

“dahlia-” you quietly repeat the name in awe, clinging to his arm to steal his attention.

“dahlia it is!” 

“i wish dahlia would live forever.” you sigh, haunted by the inevitable. 

“dahlia will outlive us.” he chuckles. 

“i’ll protect her from the afterlife.”

he squeezes your hand tenderly. “i’ll be right there with you.” 

and with unspoken mutual understanding, your fingers intertwine. neither one of you wants to let go, he feels it strongly and he is sure of it. his cheeks may very well begin to ache with how elated he is. 

“that’s three… you know, i saw someone on youtube who named their fish coral. i thought it was a very pretty name. how about that?”

“i like it,” you chirp. “i kind of wish it was my name.” 

“should i just give it to you?”

you lift your head a little, sleepy eyes connecting with his. “do you know someone who has the same name as me?”

“no,” he slowly shakes his head. “you’re the only one.” 

“let’s give it to the one with the longest tail.” 

your head drops on his shoulder, as if it’s where it belongs. 

“i like being the only one.”

you fell asleep seconds after that.

he found entertainment in watching as much as the goldfishes playing around with the shipwreck. it’s a wooden ship split in two, with cracks and holes big enough for them to swim in and out of. even the sails have holes. the drawings on them are unrecognizable beyond his imagination. 

it’s quite charming, but he doesn’t understand what’s special about it the way you do. 

a teardrop drips from the tip of your nose and crashes on his arm, but he doesn’t feel it. 

eventually, it dries, and is erased from history. 

[bekkathyst]

BEKKATHYST Autumn 2023 Giveaway!

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Please read thoroughly before entering!

Hello lovely Tumblr folk! It’s that time again- I have a giveaway for you all. 💜

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All the pictured crystals, plus a $100 gift card that can be used for our online store or our Tumblr sales. Pictured crystals: rose quartz freeform, nellite sphere with stand, kambaba jasper sphere with stand, purple labradorite freeform, silver moonstone freeform, polished chevron amethyst, thullite sphere, lizardite sphere, Mongolian black quartz crystal, amethyst rainbow amethyst druzy cut base, blue labradorite pebble, and a polished amethyst point. I wanted to pick some more unique stones for this giveaway!

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[letteredlettered]

Went to a panel about slash fanfic at a con. Moderator said, "Welcome to the panel about erotica." The words "slash" and "erotica" were used interchangeably throughout. Panel was great.

There was a Q&A at the end so I raised my hand and said these terms seemed conflated. Moderator explained she'd run this panel for 10 years and it started out being about slash but drifted into erotica and she never changed the name. (She also said she was glad I brought it up and would keep it in mind for the future of the panel.) The guy on the panel who writes original m/f erotica said that slash and what he writes are basically the same thing. I said I had no complaints about the name of the panel or the panelists, I was just curious about what slash meant to them, and whether slash by necessity had to include sex scenes to be considered slash.

Two panelists answered that slash was romance between men but usually had sex. Eventually one of them did make clear that slash didn't have to have sex but that it was what they wanted to read. Another panelist said that to them slash really just meant dude romance but people wouldn't read their fic unless there was sex so they felt they had to put sex scenes in.

Person came up to me after the panel. Said they felt I didn't get my question answered. Then they explained that since the 70s, 'slash' has been used to mean m slash m romance, meaning explicit and sexual. Then they said it sounded like what I wanted to ask about was shipping. They explained to me that shipping is just wanting the characters to be together but slash meant sex. They explained that since the invention of AO3, people had begun to use the ampersand to mean the fic had two characters who were friends and that the slash was used to denote ships, but even though that punctuation just meant romance, the word "slash" in the last twenty years had become synonymous with explicit fic. I explained I had been in fandom longer than twenty years and this was not necessarily my experience. They said, "Bye!"

Though they seemed confused as to whether what they personally defined as slash had been mainstream since the 70s or since the last twenty years (the person was 24), they were well-meaning. The panel was great. I'd recommend it to anyone, though I'm not stating the name of the con here because I don't want anyone involved to feel this is really a critique of the panel itself. The moderator in particular was superb.

I think that this conversation just brought up a whole lot of feelings for me. I think it bothers me that people still think that all fanfic is smutty, that all slash requires porn, and that all fic must have porn in order to be read. I am familiar with this conflation and feel perfectly fine going to a panel that I think is about slash fic and finding out it's about erotic lit, some of which is fanfic. After all, I like both, and I recognize that fandom mushes these things together and teasing them out into separate strands isn't something everyone--or possibly even most fans--have any interest in. I recognize that I am pedantic to a degree that most people find uninteresting.

I have a little bit more of a problem with the idea that slash is "basically the same" as het, but this was said by only one of the panelists. If your panel is actually about straight up erotica and not slash, then the problem is just the name of the panel.

What I found the most frustrating, however, is that whenever I have this conversation, I feel like the default assumption most of my interlocutors begin AND end with is this: smut is why we're here. And I just don't understand that. Away Childish Things has 44,800 kudos, and it has no smut in it. My next most kudosed fic has almost 15,000 kudos and tons of smut. My next most kudosed fic has almost 14,000 kudos and it doesn't even have a kiss.

I'm not talking about kudos to show off how many I have, or because I think kudos make a point about quality of a fic. They have nothing to do with quality. But they do have to do with popularity, and the truth is, sex doesn't sell. It's something else. It's not good writing. It's not a great plot. It's not in-character characterization. IT'S SOMETHING ELSE. What is it?

I've had people say to me, "Well, you're lettered; it works differently for you." DOES IT??? Maybe they meant that because enough people know me as fic author, people will read my fic anyway, but let me tell you, it's always been this way for me, long before my fic was really popular. The ones with smut did not get more praise and attention. The ones that PEOPLE LIKED got more praise and attention. Do people like fic that has smut in it more than fic without smut? Some of the time! Does there have to be smut for people to like it? NO.

Have I had people tell me they didn't want to read something I wrote because it didn't have smut? YES. But the point I'm trying to make is, there are people who want to read fic that doesn't have smut in it. THEY are your audience for the fic you want to write that doesn't have smut in it. Fic does not have to have smut to be fic; it doesn't have to have smut to be read.

I think part of the reason I get so upset about it is that slash as we know it today didn't just emerge because some people weren't getting to read smut and they wanted to. It emerged because women and queer people and other marginalized communities were not getting to see what they wanted to in mainstream media. They weren't getting sex scenes, but they also weren't getting queer content, they weren't getting stories about sensitive men that defied patriarchal stereotypes of male toxicity; they weren't getting stories about disabled folks and people of color and folks who are into kink and folks who have different lifestyles. To reduce fanfic to porn is to remove the rich history of why it exists and who it exists for.

I asked earlier what makes a fic popular, and to me, it's exactly this. It's when you read a thing and you feel, "this is really satisfying to my id in a way that I am not getting from mainstream media." And sometimes what is satisfying to your id is very horny anal sex. Other times what is satisfying to your id is Bucky Barnes getting a blanket and facing his trauma. Sometimes it's Harry Potter being trans. Sometimes it's Naruto and Sasuke getting to just hold hands as the sun sets. I have no idea who those two people are but boy howdy do I know they just fucking need to hold hands.

But the other reason I get so upset about it is I'm so fucking tired of reading a great fic that devolves into mediocre mechanical porn that is there due to the collective brainwashing that states that this is the ONLY reason ALL of us are here.

Discuss.

[cutiekaijumuseum]

A little trivia for those that just got introduced to Ultraman thanks to Ultraman Rising

You know that part where baby kaiju Emi is shown a kids cartoon with an earworm of a song?

That cartoon is real!! It's called Kaiju Step Wandabada and it stars cute kid versions of different monsters from different Ultraman series (mostly the original from 1966 wich Rising is also based on). The opening shown in the movie is in stop-motion while the cartoon itself is in 2D.

The Ultraman heroes don't appear in person, but bizarrely enough they seem to exist as fictional superheroes in-universe, with the kaiju kids having toys and dolls of them. It's no surprise Emi liked it so much! She would be right at home in this show!

The episodes are 5 minutes long, there are two seasons of 26 episodes each for a total of 52. The official Tsurubaya channel has the first episodes of both seasons uploaded...

...but the rest were sadly only up for a limited time cuz gotta sell the dvds. What is officially available online right now is a series of educational shorts.

Some years ago Marvel Comics got the rights to make Ultraman comics and made a mini-series called "The Rise of Ultraman" (no relation), and these Kaiju Step designs got to appear as part of in-universe instructional videos about dealing with monsters and aliens:

So let's have a quick rundow on the little monsters and where each comes from:

Pigmon or Pig-chan is the main protagonist and new kid in town (forest). This coral-looking guy is one of the most iconic and recurring ultra monsters and the go-to kid-friendly one, as he stood out among the original set of kaiju for being friendly and heroic (as well as human-sized). He has the bad habit of dying in many of his apperences but fortunately that's not the case here.

Kanegon or Kane-chan is the second member of the protagonist trio, and the most energic and simple-minded. A coin purse monster that eats money, and usually a human kid under a curse. He actually pre-dates Ultraman, appearing in the black-and-white anthology series Ultra Q wich had monsters but not superheroes. Fortunately this one doesn't need to eat money and was born a kaiju.

Alien Dada or Dada-chan is the reliable but temperamental inventor of the trio, he dreams of building a rocket ship. One of the most iconic villains from the original 1966 Ultraman (and that's saying a lot), it's a weird alien with weird powers looking for human subjects for his weird experiments, like testing his shrinking ray. He really earns the name of a weird art movement.

Gomora or Gomo-chan is probably the most iconic ultra kaiju of all. Remember how in Ultraman Rising there is this whole sequence where the dad omniously talks about fighting him? There is a good reason for that. Gomora had the only two-parter in the original 1966 series, and was able to actually defeat Ultraman in their first figh. He's essentially Godzilla if he lived underground rather than underwater (He's even been a good guy and had a robot counterpart). Here, however, Gomora is a chill guy who's passionate about agriculture. (btw, you can also spot Gomora in Rising on a screen around an hour and eight minutes into the movie).

Red King or just Red is another iconic ultra dino, that looks like corn. In the show he's brute but well-meaning, and has a friendly sport rivalry with Kemur-chan. But in the Ultraman series he's a sadistic and murderous bully who beats up weaker monsters but gets his butt kicked rather easily by Ultraman (although more recent incarnations have have been more positive, both in his fighting ability and sometimes even becoming a loving father). (and yes, you are right, he's not red).

Jamira or Jami-chan is a passionate archeologist and fossil collector in the show, whereas in the original Ultraman he was a human astronaut that got infected by a virus. He hasn't appeared much beyond his debut... but doesn't need to, as his episode was very memorable in how sad and tragic it was. I can't imagine the target audience's whiplash seeing this cute creature one moment collecting fossils and the next having a horrible sad death. I guess one could say the same for most of the characters, but this one takes the cake.

Miclas or Mic-chan is the youngest character, a baby, and loves bugs. He was one of the "capsule monsters" from the second ultra series, Ultra Seven. Sometimes the titular ultra wouldn't be able to fight himself so he would summon up to three very loyal monsters from little capsules to do the fighting instead (or at least buy some time, they weren't very strong). One was a triceratops, another was a robot bird, but the most iconic had to be Miclas because really, what even is he? Some kind of bull toad hybrid? (By the way, fun fact, the capsule monsters were one of the inspirations for Pokemon).

King Joe (yes, that's his name) or Joe-chan is a robot controlled by alien invaders and is to Ultra Seven what Gomora is to the original Ultraman: he's the subject of a two-parter and was able to beat the hero to a pulp at first, made harder to fight by his ability to divide into three flying parts. Fortunately this Joe is very shy and very friendly.

Eleking or Ele-chan from Ultra Seven is another of the "mascot" ultra kaiju. If two ultra kaiju have to appear in anything, chances are they will be Gomora and Eleking. In fact, in Ultraman Rising you can see Eleking in a monitor right next to Gomora (around an hour and eight minutes in). It's a dinosaur-like eel monster with (of course) electric powers, and the enforcer of an all-female bug-like alien species set to conquer the earth, that are nonetheless very affectionate towards their pet-weapon dino-eel. The fact that Eleking's masters are always women may explain why the Kaiju Step one is a very femenine and elegant girl despite having King in the name, though no less dangerously electric.

Alien Guts or Guts-chan here is a very little alien bird child who can multiply into three separate individuals to cause all the destruction in their sincere attempts to help out. The original duo from Ultra Seven meanwhile are ruthless alien invaders that are infamous for freaking crucifying the aforementioned hero, leading to decades of japanese media having christian imagery for the sake of looking cool, most notably Neon Genesis Evangelion, because these birds did it first and it looked so cool.

Alien Kemur or Kemu-chan is a very agile alien that comes from the distant future of 2020 to consume humans and extend his lifespan. Here he's a friendly but competitive ninja from the present, and has a rivalry with Red King being the speed to his strenght. Like Kanegon, he pre-dates Ultraman, being from Ultra Q.

Motokureron or Kureron-chan originates from the whimsical, fairy-tale like Ultraman Taro. A kid found him as a baby and fed him until he grew to giant size, but when the kid couldn't feed him anymore he turned destructive; fortunately he was easy to pacify with food, including the kind that made him shrink. He retains his glutonny and clumsiness in Kaiju Step, often doing the bad thing (tm) so the others can teach the kids in the audience why you shouldn't do the bad thing (tm).

Nova or No-chan originates from the surprisingly dark Ultraman Leo. This creepy and bizarre ghost-like alien created a red mist that made people go crazy, and manipulated a kid with illusions of his deceased family, and under his cloth there are lots of tentacles and a scythe. So of course, in Kaiju Step she's a happy and energic little girl that loves to sing.

Mugera or Muge-chan is by far the most obscure kaiju of the cast. She's from the 2001 series Ultraman Cosmos, the one where the titular hero protects monsters instead of fighting them. Mugera is an ET-like cryptid that lives in an amusement park that only kids can see, with the ability to fix toys and heal wounds with her magic. After the amusement park closes down she phones home and the protagonists have to protect her from the goverment wich is a little too eager to shoot down the UFO that came to pick her up. In Kaiju Step she likes reading and plants.

And that was your daily dose of kaiju sugar, that may be overdose because you probably already met Emi. Cheers!

[coco-loco-nut]

Oblivious

pairing: Pierre x Reader

summary: sometimes it’s nice to hide in plain sight

masterlist requests open

———————

Maybe it paid off to be two of the more overlooked drivers in the paddock. Good enough to get points and renew your contract when it expires, but not the getting stalked by media level.

Truthfully, you and Pierre never tried to hide your relationship, it was just that no one cared to notice. They never paid attention to when you walked a little too close together, or how you looked at each other differently than the other drivers, or how you spend more time together than you should and shared rides at each other’s home races. Everyone simply assumed you were friends, and never thought of it again.

“Je t’aime, Pierre,” you squeeze his hand before letting go. He walked with you from your car to your motorhome, always wanting to be heard you.

“Je t’aime aussi, mon amour,” he smiles, watching you get into the motorhome safely.

It was finally the last race of the season, and both of you were ready for the winter break. After a smooth race, you jetted off with Charles the return home. Maybe not everyone was oblivious. Charles, Yuki, Daniel, and Lewis know, but that’s because they care enough to actually pay attention.

“I will see you in Greece,” Charles hugs both of you, excited for the next time he will be with you again.

“Can’t wait! I’ve been counting down the days,” you look up at Pierre who has an arm wrapped around you, tiredly smiling at you.

“I have too,” he leans down to quickly kiss you. Charles says one last goodbye before leaving the two of you to your drive home.

The time passes quickly and your wedding arrives. It’s a beautiful ceremony, and incredibly intimate, having only invited close friends and family. The reception, however, was wild. The party lasted last when you and Pierre left, but the videos and photos told stories.

You and Pierre didn’t waste time leaving for your honeymoon, you left the next morning for a month on various Greek islands. Simply enjoying each other and the free time before next season was everything to you.

y/username 🤍 end of a season, start of a lifetime 🤍

charles_leclerc so happy for you

y/username best month of my life

lewis_hamilton white is your color 🤍

y/username thanks lew 🤍

y/nfan the white 🥵

yukitsunoda0511 don’t be shy, post the party pics

pierregasly noooooo 😭

danielricciardo yesssss

y/nfan2 what do these men know 🤨

pierregasly a month to remember 🤍

yukitsunoda0511 how much of the first night do you even remember 😅

y/username not as much as he should 😂

danielricciardo pierre gaslllllyyyyyyyy

charles_leclerc an epic month 👊

alpinef1team admin feels like they are missing something, but hope you had a great trip 🤗

pierregasly we did 😊

user we??????

user so many drivers going to the beach during winter break

Of course, you and Pierre noticed that your relationship flies under the radar, so it is fun for both of you to not be as subtle with things.

“Mon Amour, I was thinking,”

“A dangerous thing,” Pierre smiles, his face inches from yours as you cuddle.

“I want to officially take your last name, like change my Super License. I already did legally, but I want everyone to know,” you tell him, but he just looks a little confused. You are getting tired of people not knowing and being shipped with other drivers.

“I don’t think you should change your Super License. Your accomplishments should be your own, and while I obviously am your biggest supporter, people will equate your successes to me because you share my last name,” Pierre disagrees.

“I know, but we are partners in life and everything we do,” you pout, a little sad he isn’t on board.

“I am proud to have you as my wife, but I don’t want people to think less of you for driving under my last name,” Pierre tries to back himself up but you just stay quiet. You get where he is coming from, but you are prideful.

“What about changing my social media?” you try another route.

“That I can agree to,” he moves his head slightly so he can kiss you. You are content to lay all day in his arms, but you are supposed to meet Charles later that night for a couples vacation to a ski resort. After another hour in bed, you drag yourselves out to get ready to travel.

“Look at that newlywed glow,” Alex hugs you when you board Charles’s jet.

“I call it pos-“ you cut Pierre off with a look that threatens divorce.

“Settle in, we will take of shortly,” Charles changes the topic, handing you a water bottle.

“Where’s my water bottle,” Pierre pouts at his best friend, wrapping an arm around your waist to hug you from behind.

“I like Y/n more,” Charles shrugs with a small grin on his face, causing you to laugh.

“Quit flirting with my wife,” Alex gives Charles a weird look, dragging you away from Pierre so the two of you can catch up.

The trip is amazing, you watch the boys wipe out and have fun before testing starts.

You and Alex are pro skiers, but the same can’t be said for Charles or Pierre. Pierre only fell a couple times, but Charles wiped out probably once a day.

On the last night you sit by the fireplace in your shared cabin, snuggled under a blanket with Alex as the guys finish dinner. Well, Charles is making some pasta dish while Pierre keeps the wine flowing to everyone.

“Sometimes I wish that the season never starts,” you rest your head on Alex’s shoulder, watching the fire burn in front of you.

“The peace that comes with the off season is nice,” she hums, understanding your sentiment.

“There is rarely time for things like this during the season, with Pierre and I both being on different teams, and it isn’t always easy to plan trips with you and Charlie,” you sigh. You love your job, and you have no plans of retirement yet, but the constant travel is demanding.

“Screw Pierre, I’ll be your WAG,” Alex squeezes you as the boys bring in dinner and more wine. You stand up to help them out, taking a couple plates from Charles.

“Mon amour,” Pierre lifts the edge of his fuzzy blanket for you to join him. You happily join him, his warmth enveloping you.

“Charles, this is heavenly,” you groan as you eat the dinner.

“When Ferrari signs you, you can have as much as you want,” Charles winks as you scoff.

“Please, Pierre is -as if not more- likely to rejoin Red Bull than for me to sign with a top team,” you shake you head, feeling Pierre lean away from you a little.

“Uncalled for,” Pierre says, a hint of laughter in his voice.

“She has a point,” Alex says and you turn to her, mock offended.

“Are you saying I’m not a good driver,” you gasp, she looks at Charles, unsure what to do.

“Y/n, you are a great driver, you just were in the wrong development program and are doomed to stay on midfield teams. Pierre, you might’ve chosen the wrong words in support of your wife,” Charles steps in, ending the playful fight.

“I’ll do the dishes while you talk shop, it’s my turn anyway,” Alex says, grabbing various plates from the living room and heading to the kitchen.

“Have you told your teams yet?” Charles asks, smiling to himself as he observes you and Pierre cuddling.

y/username hitting the slopes before testing 🎿🤍

alexandrasaintmleux best couples trip 🤍

user couples trip 🤨

danielricciardo where was my invite???

y/username my wifie, my WAG 🥰

charles_leclerc 🤨 MY WAG, you have your own

user alex and y/n skiing while charles and pierre probably kept falling down

charles_leclerc thanks for not posting the pics of me falling 😅

pierregasly thanks for getting my good side 🤍

y/ngasly every side is your good side 😘

landonorris what-

maxverstappen1 hold up, why’d you just change your username?

carlossainz55 i think we missed something…

lewishamilton you are just now realizing that they are together?

yukitsunoda0511 they literally got married???

pierregasly we never tried to hide it…

y/ngasly y’all are just oblivious af

user wait, they are so cute together, the otp we didn’t know we needed

user agreed, but I’m gonna need a timeline of their relationship

danielricciardo they’ve been together since 2018, engaged last season, married shortly after the end of this season

maxverstappen1 did all of our gossip sessions mean nothing to you???

[writingoddess1125]

How Strong the old men Genes are!

Funny little Headcanon for the Old Men!

Enjoy!

Support me on Ko-Fi

Buggy

• Buggy has a curse of twins. No matter what if he gets a women pregnant It will result in him having twins.

• Due to the fact his first few sexual acquaintances were 'Paying Lovers' he does collect his kids and either has them apart of the crew or finds them a very nice homes if they aren't interested in being a Pirate.

• His kids do look like him but it's a healthy mix- His eyes and Hair Color seemingly to be his strongest genes since each of his kids has at least one of those unique characteristics.

• When he gets with his S/O who he also has twins with he is open about it.

• Has only gotten a few people pregnant but due to the twins curse- it's a lot of kids.

• Buggy much to everyone surprise is very good with kids. Especially babies.

• Maybe it plays on his power trip but having a little being that loves you unconditionally and needs you 24/7 plays well for him.

• Will buy nice clothes, dress them, feed them, play with them and even teach them everything he knows.

• His S/O is proud to see how good he is with kids. Proud of such a development. Will press him to collect/find the rest of his crotch goblins

• Gets a message from a old flame saying they no longer want their kids due to their line of work. How they are 4 and he needs to get them before they are in a orphanage.

• Hauls ass to go to Chi Chi Town to get his last batch of Twins before he got with his S/O

• "Let me guess- Twins right?" He said blandly to the madame of the brothel house, who nods in surprise. "Why yes- How did you know?-"

• "Lucky Guess. Now go get them" He says blandly as the Madame goes to the nursery area and retrieves the two twin toddlers, He doesn't even need to confirm as he sees the headful of blue hair.

• Takes them without a fuss and walks off to add to his growing collection of kids.

• Has a total of 12 Kids, all twins and he's done. No more for him-

Shanks

• Ah Poor Shanks- The Players Curse! Only Girls, He has just an ungodly amount of daughters.

• He doesn't even know we're they are till he walks through a village and sees a girl that looks a lot like him.

• All of them have red hair- No matter what. Curly, straight, Wavy but their hair is always red.

• "I'm your father! Goodness you look so lovely!" He gushes about each daughter and treats them individually. Spending as much time as he can with them and will buy them things they are interested in.

• Still prefers his single players life so doesn't settle with anyone. However running into old flames often means meeting new kids.

• Surprisingly remembers all his kids names, will write them letters constantly.

• Will he thrilled if any of them ate interested in pirating- his oldest of kids may already be working on another Pirates ship.

• Surprisingly large amount are actually Marines! So he gets special privileges of his daughters using their political power to not get him arrested-

• Introduces every daughter he has to the crew.

• The crew Secretly has a tally-board of how many kids Shanks has in the crews quarters

• "Hey Ben! How many does this new girl make?" Lucky Roux called out as he tossed the chalk to Yasopp

• "28nd girl-" Ben says calmly and smirks as Yasopp adds another Tally to the board.

• "28 Girls and 1 Boy. Good on you Luffy" The crew laughs at the stupidity of it all.

Mihawk

• Mihawk will never say it out loud but- He was a man-whore in his youth. A Massive Man-Whore.

• Knows he has a lot of bastard kids. But will at the moment only focus on the one he has with his S/O.

• When his permanent S/O finds out that Mihawk has a lot of illegitimate children they urge him to meet and even help his kids.

• At first he begrudgingly agreed- Only because his S/O asked him. Assuming he only had a good handful-

• He was wrong- So very very Wrong.

• It wasn't until he went out to collect them did he realize it was a good Idea what his S/O had suggested-

• Many of his children were in less then savorable situations. Some in orphanages, the streets picking through trash, even others working as servants or worse.

• What started as a scoffing agreement turned into the biggest rescue mission of his life.

• Once done he had the grand total of 87 Kids.

• His genes being incredibly strong since his kids all looked like him- to at least some degree.

• The main indicator was the yellow eyes- Damn near every child had his eyes. Some had his dark hair or his stoic features. But it was mainly his eyes-

• Is quiet around kids and even a bit awkward. Especially when they are in the adolescent age and talk far too much for his taste.

• By the end the castle back on his Island was actually at full occupancy. Every room filled and some of the smaller children even sharing rooms.

• He ended up hiring a full staff as well to help care for the children, especially any younger ones.

• Cost him a fortune- His wallet screaming at him buying more food, clothes, staffing, medical care and toys.

• S/O is happy since now the castle is so alive and filled with life. Makes them happy

• Mihawk laying in bed before he gets jumped on by kids. Scrambling awake as he sees 5 of his younger children laughing at seeing his startled face and runs off like little imps-

• Younger children haven't figured out to be afraid of him yet so they will run over him. He will be sitting there trying to read while a 3 year old uses him as a jungle gym.

•Secretly loves it-

• Loves having his home so warm and oddly realizes He may have been lonely before-

• "Mihawk I'm only counting 85 in bed-" His S/O calls out. Having a tradition of telling all the kids goodnight, He raises his brow at this as he sets down his wine glass and book of the evening.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine having deep discussions with the Whitebeard pirates

Ace: Have you ever wondered why the world government opposes people so far away from them, doing what we do?

Marco: [mutters] I wish you would just stop saying odd shit.

Whitebeard: well we're breaking the law, obviously.

You: It's a little deeper than that. It's because what many pirates do, is the same thing the world government does.

Marco: We are not similar in any way.

You: no, think about it, what does the world government do? They lay out a bunch of rules and if you don't follow them, they use violence to force most of the world into following them. And if a nation elects not to join the world government, or can't afford to join, they raid and pillage those islands and take their citizens as slaves.

Izou: On the other hand, if a nation does join the world government, they have to pay heavenly tributes, because if they don't, the Marines will raid and pillage your country. But if they pay the heavenly tributes, the marines will protect their nation from outsiders, like pirates and non-world-government-nations.

Whitebeard: However, on top of paying the heavenly tribute, the average person also pays local and national taxes, so it's a heavy burden for some countries.

Marco: Oh my gods, it's like a protection racket, that common thugs run, just on a massive scale.

Whitebeard: and, like many pirates.

You: they don't like pirates, for the same reason they don't like common thugs, because you all are muscling in on their turf.

Thatch: so most governments are just organized, and socially acceptable, thuggery.

You: Not all, look at Alabasta for instance, King Cobra has a lot of social programs for his people. Food programs and affordable housing for the poor. Medical programs that put a doctor in every village and a bunch of other stuff. The people should receive something back from their government besides 'protection'.

Ace: I know a lot of nations that are in the world government have a large lower class that they exploit labor from and bleed them dry with taxes, tolls, and fines. I can never forget what I saw at the Grey Terminal out of the Goa Kingdom's Great Gate.

Thatch: That's because in "normal society" they value wealth, and look down on and take advantage of people who don't have it. Meanwhile, in pirate culture, we value strength and look down on and take advantage of those who are weaker, like how we raid other crew's ships because we can, and they can't stop us.

Izou: [sighs] That's an oversimplification If I ever heard one.

Thatch: [steps into Izou's space bubble.] You got something to say to me?

Izou: I've been to both world-government nations and non-world-government nations, and I can tell you that they value both strength and wealth. It's just different classes value one over the other. The upper and more privileged class values wealth, and daintiness because they can hire the strong. While the less privileged value strength, because it helps them survive, because they don't have money.

Thatch: I know that, did you forget I grew up poor as shit, mister little daimyo's vassal-boy.

Izou: And I was a wandering beggar minstrel before that, also keep Oden's name out of your mouth.

Thatch: how about you fucking make me?

Marco: [hops between the two men and dramatically claps his hands together like a clapperboard.] Aaand scene, that was a brilliant performance, gentlemen.

Ace: it was almost hard to tell that you two are actually friends.

Thatch: [huffs] Alright, I'll take it back, I'm sorry Izou.

Izou: I'm sorry too

You: you all are too fighty.

Ace: bitch, you're the most stab happy out of all of us.

You: I am not

Whitebeard: Just last night, you stabbed Vista's hand with a fork because he kept reaching over your plate.

You: ... I did do that, but only after asking him to stop three times. Which is more than reasonable, he's a grown-ass adult, and he, and his fuck ass mustache, should know basic table etiquette by now.

Ace: and then you stabbed me for no reason, with the same fork!

You: that was for good measure, just in case you got any ideas!

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[conarcoin]

So Elon bought Twitter. I'm honestly not gonna push away Twitter newcomers, but if you're in the MCYT fandom you need to understand that the social etiquette and expectations and culture here are very different than over on Twitter. So as someone who's been an active part of mcytblr for two years now, I'd like to offer some thoughts and advice!

One: Shipping. MCYT communities on Tumblr have always tended to lean more tolerant towards shipping of roleplay characters due to the idea that this is a space for fans primarily. The creators who visit or actively use Tumblr like Eret and Martyn understand that this is a fan space primarily, and don't bother us for the content we make, and we don't bother them with it.

The number one worst thing you could do is share shipping content with creators who have not asked for it. This is a huge social faux pas here. Secondly, on the other end — writing callout posts for shippers here isn't gonna fly. Even for RPF shippers and people who may ship boundary-breaking pairings, our default is usually to not engage with these people rather than publicly call them out. It makes the space a healthier place for everyone and makes it much less likely that CCs may come across content they are uncomfortable with. It's also considered a social faux pas to ask CCs their opinions and boundaries on shipping, since that's bringing it up when they didn't ask!

Speaking of shipping, people typically don't mind you maintagging ship content so long as you also tag it as shipping so people can filter it. For Hermitcraft the tag is hermitshipping, Life Series has trafficshipping, and the lesser known DSMP tag is dsmpshipping.

Two: Reblogging. This is something a lot of newer users tend to struggle with. There is no algorithm on Tumblr, at least not one that works, so content creators rely on you reblogging their work in order for it to spread. If you see a fic or piece of art you enjoy, please reblog it! I often reblog art for MCYT fandoms I'm not even personally in.

Three: Tagging (again). There are a wide variety of tags you can use for your content! The most common tags you'll want to use are "mcyt" and "mcytblr", and any relevant series, pairing/group or character/CC names. However, please don't use the tag "minecraft"! Minecraft has an entirely separate fanbase on Tumblr that we co-exist with and have some overlap with, but don't necessarily appreciate seeing MCYT content in their tags. Any tag with "minecraft" in it is also a no-no, such as "minecraft youtubers" or "minecraft championships". Please use shorthands!

Four: Opinions on MCYT drama tend to be very different here than they are on Twitter. For instance, you should assume by default that most bloggers here either like or are completely neutral towards "problematic CCs" like Schlatt. But also, we tend to be very against spreading anything originating from leakers, and we also tend to not be fond of making posts "holding CCs accountable" for things they did years ago. Generally, mcytblr prefers to be a more drama-free community, and if you do engage in discourse, many would appreciate you tagging it as such!

Five: CCs do not need you to babysit them.

Generally speaking you will see a lot of jokes and memes on mcytblr that wouldn't fly on Twitter, and it is generally looked down upon to try to speak on behalf of CCs personal boundaries — they are grown adults, and you are a stranger! Calling out or harassing people for "breaking boundaries" is mostly just going to get you looked at strangely, especially if you don't have a source for your claims. Most of us will stop doing something if asked, but we don't need stans to tell us to! CCs can speak for themselves when uncomfortable.

Six: Most mcytblr blogs don't want CC notices. There are quite a few CCs who are active here, but the community is chill with them as they don't tend to talk about us elsewhere and allow us to do our own thing. We do not, however, like encouraging CCs to join Tumblr or to follow us or reblog our posts — many people here actually prefer being out of sight of CCs and many of us consider it rude to seek out attention from CCs outside of sending the occasional ask.

Please treat CCs kindly and don't gawk at them like you just saw a celebrity on the street — the ones who are active here are just Tumblr users like the rest of you! Seeing Eret reblog fanart or respond to an ask isn't something to point out.

While we joke about Twitter users joining, we don't actually have anything against you guys, it's just that we've built a very different community here and ask that you respect it and the etiquette we've come to establish! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy your stay on mcytblr ^_^

[katerinaaqu]

The Humanity of Odysseus and the Importance of the Curse of Polyphemus (an Odyssey Analysis on Fate and Destiny)

I believe there is one thig that needs to be said about the Odyssey and Odysseus in particular and something I have rarely seen properly adapted. It is the importance of the unchangable fate in antiquity in general and homeric poems in particular. One can say this starts from the character itself; Odysseus name meaning "Anger Bringer" or "Furious" is an indicator that not only the character will be dusliked by many but that he would also cause anger which one can expect would lead to terrible consequences. However I believe the moment Odysseus was truly deprived of all his choices was the infamous Curse of Polyphemus:

In Rhapsody/Book 9 of the Odyssey, Odysseus describes his misadventure with the cyclops Polyphemus and when he revealed himself to him, Polyphemus prays to his father, Poseidon, giving Odysseus a double-curse (as it happens to most predictions that have at least two ways they can go) which goes like this:

"I call upon you, Poseidon, Earth-bearer with cyan/black/dark hair, if I am your son and you wish to be my father (you wish to be called my father), do it for me so that Odysseus the Sacker of Cities will never reach his home, the son of Laertes who calls Ithaca his home, but if fate calls for him to see his friends and reach his well-built home and his ancestral land, make it so it will be terrible (here return), that he will lose all his companions and in a foreign ship and find misery waiting for him at his home!"

(Translation by me)

So as you can see the curse has two different outcomes

He will never see his home again

If he does, it will be without his companions brought by a foreign ship and he will find misery at his own home when he arrives

At this point, given that the story is "in media res" aka "told from the middle", we know now that the second part is fulfilled, or almost fulfilled. Odysseus is in Scheria, he is alone, he is shipwrecked, there is no sign of any of his companions anywhere so we expect him to return at this foreign ship, aka a Phaeacaean ship to his home at any moment. However by the moment the curse is placed, Odysseus doesn't know which outcome is to befall upon him. And while the second part is weirdly specific (and in a way preparing us for the outcome) the first one is not nearly speficic enough!

Make it so he never sees his land again.

This could mean anything; does he get killed in the ardous trip? Does he get straddled to a place for the rest of his life? Does he somehow lose his...memory and never return home again (similarly to how his men ate the Lotuses at the Lotophagi land)? What is more, nowhere in this part does it say his comrades will survive the ordeal. Although the curse means specifically for Odysseus not reaching his home and one could assume his men would but not Odysseus, that is not guaranteed.

Both of these scenarios are terribly gloom for both Odysseus and his men. So what does Odysseus do? He does what every human being would have done;

He tries to change fate!

He tries constantly to lift the curse:

Even if he knows deep down is pointless, even if he more or less has realized they are off for an arduous trip that will cost them probably all of them their lives, Odysseus STILL TRIES to change the fate! He sails off to find help. He goes to Aiolus and asks for help. He gets the bag. At this point Odysseus is at the end of his wits. He has a chance, he thinks, to change fate, to change the curse. He remains awake for 9 days to make sure he will (see also my other analysis in regards to that) and yet it is all in vain. His men open the bag JUST A LITTLE BEFORE they reach Ithaca and pushed back.

At this point it becomes all the more clear that they are up for an endless journey or a settlement away from home at best case scenario and all to die at worst case scenario. Odysseus doesn't give up! He asks AGAIN, this time he is denied.

And then comes destruction...

They reach the idland of the giant Laistrygonians and here Odysseus suffers the worst loss he has suffered so far; he loses 11 out of his 12 ships in a single raid and barely manages to escape with the rest of his comrades resting on his ship. Right now is clearer than ever that the curse is taking place so the real question is; which of the parts shall it be fulfulled? And they reach the land of Circe. Plenty of his men turn into pigs. Eurylochus barely escapes doom and runs at him to tell him "LEAVE THEM AND GO". Odysseus knows in his bones they are doomed! He knows he either leaves them and fulfulles the second prophecy (for his men already perish little by little) or either way the first part of the prophecy is fulfilled. What does Odysseus do?

He tries AGAIN!

He sells himself to Circe, he requests his men's freedom. He ASKS Circe for advice, he descends the Underworld, asks Tiresias for a course; how he can reach his home, how he can save his men, how he can REVERSE THE CURSE. Even if he knows it is impossible to challenge fate (not even Zeus could transcend fate). In a way he comits a form of hubris hoping to change fate. And yet he is HUMAN! He cannot accept that his men would die that he cannot go home. He wants to TRY! So sure enough he gets a possible way out...

Tiresias gives him hope...

The prophet tells him he can save his men AND reach Ithaca IF they do not eat the cattle of Helios Hyperion. What is more Circe gives him advice for the trip; the course they can follow, the steps they can take and again the warning of NOT eating the cattle of Helios. Odysseus takes heart to those, he DESPERATELY GRABS on them! He thinks he has a chance. Maybe...JUST MAYBE he can reverse this terrible curse! He can MAKE IT RIGHT! He has a chance to change fate! He has a chance to reverse it!

Self-Fulfilled Prophecy

Little does he know though that the trip is already set for failiure. Skylla claims 6 of his best men (his men CONTINUE TO PERISH) and yet Odysseus thinks that this is a sign that he can make it, that the terrible sacrifices will pay off and that he is on his way to break the curse. He is following the instructions therefore it must go well. And come the Cattle Of Helios Hyperion.

An attempt to dodge fate...

Odysseus tells to his men that they should not stop at the island now. He is not ready to take another risk. He will not do the same as the sack of Aiolus. He wants to AVOID THE ISLE ALTOGETHER. If his men are not tepted, they will not break. He intends to keep going and it could have worked...but...

Sure enough his men are tired they need to stop

Odysseus has no choice. At this point he probably realizes there is no way to change fate. He sees it now that everything is up for destruction and he still doesn't know WHICH VERSION will be fulfulled! And even if every part of his brain tells him everything is lost Odysseus REFUSES TO GIVE UP! No, this cannot be the end! There must still be time and space to reverse it!

He makes them promise

Odysseus makes his men swear to everything sacred that no matter what they shall not touch the cattle. That they would survive only with the provisions given by Circe, that they will not be tempted no matter what. Sure enough he extracts the promise from them but of course the prophecy is now moving. Wind is opposite. There is no way they can go. They get straddled for WEEKS. Food is over. Odysseus sees the path is for destruction and yet...

HE TRIES AGAIN!

He goes to the island to pray! There MUST be another way! The gods can hear him...maybe pity him and release them from this! And yet he falls asleep from fatigue, stress and godly intervention. Now the clock is ticking! His men cannot withstand hunger anymore and slay the cattle. Now their fate is shielded. We now know they will die. We know also which part of the prophecy will be fulfulled; Odysseus will come home ALONE, just like we see him narrating alone (even if we might as well wonder whether Odysseus would remain in Scheria, it is pretty much settled that Odysseus returns to Ithaca). However Odysseus doesn't know...but what he fears the most has happened

One last desperate attempt.

Odysseus is human above all. He sees the slain animals, he KNOWS his men will die and even that time he REFUSES to accept it! He REFUSES to give up! He sets sail again, hoping to save them, to save them all (himself included) as they roam for 7 days in the sea

And doom strikes...

His men all perish, his ship is gone! Odysseus is left alone in the sea, fighting for 10 days to the brief of death. Right now Odysseus is no longer struggling to change fate...he is no longer struggling to save anyone but himself...he is struggling

...SO THAT AT LEAST THE FATE IN STORE FOR HIM IS HIS RETURN...

He now has suffered the ultimate loss. He needs to at least make it home! Even if that means without companions, even if that means to be home in misery...he just HAS TO GO HOME! He cannot just perish in the sea or be forever straddled outside Ithaca! And then Calypso happens. Odysseus is left in her isle for 7 years.

He now fears he will never see his home again

He cries every day on the beach. His rape every night is strong enough reason for him to do so but also the fact that he now FEARS that the first section of the prophecy is fullfilled; that he is never to see his home and friends and family again. That his fate was not to perish in the sea but to be forever held against his will away from his beloved home and family. And he is filled with despair. When he has lost all hope that he will ever roam about the sea again; with at least SOME HOPE that the second part of the curse would be fulfilled, he is ready to throw himself in the sea; give an end to his life since there is no point in hoping anymore. The worst scenario has happened for him. He has nothing else to expect...

And it is so...till Hermes brings the order to release him. Now Odysseus finds hope anew that he will return. And he struggles with all his might to survive! Even if he is days out in the sea in a small raft. Even when his raft is destroyed and he has to literally swim to Scheria. his mind goes "NO! I WILL NOT PERISH! I WILL GO HOME!" and sure enough he does and he does meet his friends again and he does find this misery at his home and yet now Odysseus can endure this misery, because he knows he managed to get home and he knows that he has left but ONE TASK according to Tiresias.

He tried to beat fate and he failed...but now he has hope...

So as you see, and forgive me for the long analysis, Odysseus is more human than anyone can imagine and always relatable character. Despite his flaws and mistakes one of the noblest mistakes he made was to think he could change fate and dedicate a large part of his trip trying to do just that; change the curse and save his companions which only ends up to a self-fulfilled prophecy but I doubt anyone can deny that we would all have done the same. I doubt any of us would just abandon all hope and sit tight waiting for the prophecy to be filled either way. He would all have tried to change such a grim outcome!

Because we are human. And so was Odysseus.

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (teaser)

sypnosis: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive

teaser word count: 0.5k / full fic word count: 30.8k :3

teaser warnings: is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? (full list of warnings to be released w the fic!)

release date: sometime in july (oh wait it’s july already)

spotify playlist ♫ (still in progress and will be open to recs after release hehe)

PART ONE AND TWO ARE OUT!

note: drop a comment/send an ask if you want to be tagged (pls make sure that you’re taggable 🥺) thank you and i hope you look forward to it <3

—

“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.

“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground.

he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place.

“what do you think i work here for?”

taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”

he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease.

unhappy faces with blank stares.

he smiles at them cheerfully.

“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain, jeon jungkook!”

“jungkook! sit!”

“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung.

“eh, more like the wind beneath our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat.

“what?”

his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying.

the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.

he imagined he would be alone here again today.

but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship.

the earth begins to move in slow motion.

they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing.

gone is the smile on his face.

jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are.

are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking?

for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified.

and why is his breaking too?

—

[raguiras]

SKETCH COMIC: Deuce/Yuu at the beach

Reblogging is highly appreciated! 🥹🙏

AAAAA finally another Spade of Storms post! Today is their 150 days anniversary, so I just HAD to post!! More coming soon ^^

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NOTE: My Yuu is named Allen and primarily uses he/him pronouns. However, I tend to change this in comics for general insert purposes.

Part 3 of the relationship timeline (= how they finally got together) below the cut!

More ship content

Previous parts of my Deuce x Allen ship introduction: 1 // 2 // 3

Deuce x Allen blog: @spade-of-storms

Event where you can draw this ship & get art of your own ship back :3

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Relationship timeline (pt. 3)

♠︎♤ POST BOOK 7 ♤♠︎

By now, pretty much everyone at NRC knew that Deuce and Allen had a thing for each other, and many people even assumed that they were a couple already.

Nobody could blame them, though: the two boys were not only inseparable and constantly smiling at each other, but also extremely touchy nowadays. Having built unparalleled levels of trust and being incredibly comfortable with each other, Allen and Deuce did more and more together, eventually even cuddling in public on the regular.

One day when Deuce had done incredibly well on a test, Allen gave him a cheek kiss out of sheer euphoria. This absolutely made Deuce bluescreen and he later rambled to Ace about it — it was his first ever kiss!!! Did Allen like him back?! Did this kiss mean anything?! Would it be okay for him to give Allen a kiss as well?!

When they were watching a movie together in Allen's room, Deuce decided to spontaneously kiss Allen's cheek, too. The blonde boy got incredibly nervous as he had not expected this in the slightest — after all, he was "disgusting and unlovable" — and simply laughed it off.

Another time, Deuce was comforting Allen during one of his low moments. As Allen went on about how much he hated his body, Deuce was basically rendered speechless and could reply with nothing but sincere compliments on Allen's appearance. This warmed the Ramshackle prefect's heart a ridiculous amount... did Deuce really mean it? Was Allen actually beautiful to him...? Why was Deuce not growing sick of complimenting him and instead always sounded genuine...? After a quick gaze was exchanged, Allen suddenly found every area of his face other than his lips being covered in gentle, soft kisses. "I'm here for you. You're so beautiful."

These happenings caused them to occasionally kiss the other in various places (except for the lips) — yes, including their necks — which shocked everybody due to the physical distance both held with other people. However, it was still strictly "platonic" as neither Allen nor Deuce dared to say a thing. Everyone around them was losing their minds in the meantime — how could they act this lovey-dovey with the constant cuddles, gazes and kisses and STILL not be a couple?!

Deuce was convinced that he was way too average for someone like Allen. Despite the Ramshackle prefect's many flaws, he was the embodiment of perfection in Deuce's eyes. Allen would definitely want someone prettier and smarter, right...? Deuce surely couldn't compare...

Allen, on the other hand, still firmly believed that he was not only ugly, but unlovable, undeserving, and easy to replace. In his opinion, he had to be absolutely perfect in every way to be a worthwhile partner, and his crushing fear of rejection held him back anyway.

Both boys were terrified of destroying their friendship through a love confession. While they strictly avoided the topic of the rumors and of them potentially getting together in each other's presence, both Allen and Deuce secretly rambled to their friends and were desperately searching for advice. No matter how often everyone told them that the other one definitely liked them back, neither of the two teenagers could/wanted to believe it.

Sometimes, Deuce and Allen even talked about their crushes together, describing them to each other's face in hopes of them realizing that the other one was their crush. However, this backfired A TON: neither could believe that the described positive traits applied to THEM, and instead, Allen firmly believed that Deuce was crushing on someone else (and vice versa).

Ace couldn't stand it anymore and forced Deuce to gift Allen a red rose to test the waters. While the Ramshackle prefect did want to believe that the gesture was of romantic nature, Allen instead decided that it was a platonic souvenir from Heartslabyul's gardens — after all, Deuce had described his crush as "beautiful, kind and the most perfect person he had ever seen", which SURELY couldn't have been Allen...

Deuce didn't know what other hints to drop (outside of the fact that he regularly gave Allen gifts, complimented him a ton, got touchy with him despite hating it with other people, was eager to hang out with him all day, and literally KISSED him). Allen simply appeared to be oblivious to absolutely everything.

One day when they were cuddling on Allen's bed while watching a movie, Deuce yet again planted little kisses on Allen's neck and spontaneously decided to be bold, asking Allen if they could finally kiss on the lips. The Ramshackle student blushed and was taken by surprise, but obviously agreed. Their first kiss was innocent, loving and downright PERFECT — both felt as if they were about to explode — until Allen brushed it off as "practice" with a sad chuckle. Deuce's heart was broken within a second.

Allen was so heavily traumatized and convinced that he was unlovable that he genuinely thought Deuce wanted to use him as practice for his future relationship with the aforementioned "perfect, kind and beautiful" crush. Deuce thought the same about Allen — so this wonderful kiss was only practice for the blonde boy's upcoming relationship with his crush, huh...?

Both yet again talked to their friends in search of help, but all they got was further reassurance that the other one DID like them and that there was simply a massive misunderstanding.

At some point, Deuce couldn't wait anymore. He loved Allen more than anything and he NEEDED him, but Deuce knew full well that he'd likely get too nervous and stumble over his own words if he confessed to Allen in person. Instead, he decided to gift the boy another Shiba plushie, place it in front of Allen's door, and attached a letter to it.

Unfortunately, this also backfired. Allen was convinced that the letter was a prank; he was convinced that someone was impersonating Deuce and recreating his handwriting with magic in order to give Allen wrong hopes and possibly destroy the friendship he had with Deuce (however, Allen did keep the letter and plush Shiba). When Deuce heard about this, he was even more saddened — what did he have to do for Allen to realize that he was not only worthy of love, but actively loved by Deuce? What did he have to do for Allen to realize... that Deuce wanted him more than anything else in life? There was only one way left...

Deuce planned the confession in detail and even practiced in front of his mirror. He bought twelve red roses, two matching gumball machine rings, and another plushie. Additionally, Deuce also wrote a second love letter.

He then invited Allen to a blastcycle tour, which the Ramshackle student obviously agreed to. When it was time for them to go, Deuce showed up at Allen's window and blasted "Baby" by Justin Bieber at full volume, and once inside Allen's room, Deuce gifted him the bouquet. But this time, Allen couldn't just mentally brush it off as a platonic gesture — he saw the desperation, sincerity and love in Deuce's eyes, and took the flowers with a bright blush while nervously thanking Deuce.

The two teenagers went off to the beach, with Allen holding onto Deuce tightly as they rode the blastcycle.

When they arrived at the beach, Deuce's heart was pretty much beating out of his chest. After a short walk, the blue-haired boy gathered all his courage, breathed in deeply one last time, took the gifts out of his bag, and went on one knee in front of Allen.

Allen's heart was beating out of his chest as well. He couldn't deny it any longer, his insecurities couldn't deny it any longer — this was indeed a confession.

Allen opened the letter and teared up immediately upon reading Deuce's sweet words. It was another sincere love confession, this time handed to him directly by Deuce. There was no excuse and it couldn't be mistaken for a prank. The Heartslabyul student kneeled in front of Allen, looking up to him with the most desperate, nervous puppy eyes — Deuce wanted nothing more than to date him.

Allen couldn't believe it yet and started crying. Deuce actually loved him... Deuce genuinely wanted to be with him. All his life, Allen had been told that something like this was impossible... but here he was now, being confessed to in the sweetest way by the sweetest person he had ever met. He was loved.

Deuce slowly got up to comfort Allen, but instead, the Ramshackle prefect initiated a kiss. This time, it wasn't "practice" — it was their first genuine kiss as a couple, and it became one of their most treasured memories for both of them.

They were officially together now... and little did Allen know that they'd stay lovers for the entirety of their lifes.

"I love you." — "I love you, too."

Deuce and Allen had fixed the mistakes of the past; Allen's previous incarnation had died before Deuce's got the chance to confess. And in their next lifes, they'd be together as well.

They were destined to find each other in every universe.

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Fun fact: There are 3 Spade of Storms days.

22th March: The day when I first decided that I want them to be together in an old rp server. It was likely the first official confirmation of the ship, and it was 150 days ago.

20th May: The day when they got together in the canon lore.

27th July: The day that's exactly in between of their birthdays (3rd June & 20th September).

Thank you very much for reading! 🥹🥹

[plussizefantasia]

Unsure Hearts

Read Part One Here: Fluttering Hearts

Warnings: Reader gets grabbed, alcohol, I think that's it tbh

an: heyyyy... sorry I was MIA, lots of stuff going on I'll post an update about it soon. In the meantime enjoy part two of the Kili x reader fic from Flufftober. I think this will be a five-part fic including an epilogue and the next two parts are already underway. I've also got some requests ready to be edited and posted soon. Thank you for bearing with me, much love <3

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Thorin was getting worried, Kili had become somewhat of a ghost story over the past month. He had assumed that his nephew was simply doing his duty. Kili had volunteered to be the envoy between Dale and Erebor for the discussions of armament and training. However, that treaty was signed a week ago, and said envoy position was no longer needed. So why in all of Arda was Kili still going to Dale every day? The young prince left as soon as he was finished with his daily tasks and didn’t return to the mountain until well after the sun had set. Thorin was not worried for his nephew's safety, after all, Kili was an excellent warrior and could take care of himself, no, Thorin was worried for Kili’s heart. 

Fili had also noticed his brother’s absence but the blonde prince had always been a bit more perceptive than his surly uncle. Fili had noticed that Kili was missing, but he also noticed that every time he returned to the mountain it was with the most dopey grin that he had ever seen. A grin that he recognized, for it had also graced his face a few months ago when he met his beloved Alma. Fili would bet his beard on it, Kili was in love.

You on the other hand were getting more and more annoyed each time the brown-haired dwarf walked through the front door. He was charming sure, and polite. But he stared. At you. The whole time he was there. And he was there a lot. His attempts to engage you in conversation were far and few between, the few times he was able to grab your attention away from the bustling building he became tongue-tied the moment your eyes landed on his.

Kili didn’t understand why he couldn’t say more than a few words to you without choking on his words. Your eyes had to hold some kind of spell within them. They enchanted him and left him bewitched every time he caught their gaze. It left him frustrated, he had never had this much trouble with women before, why were you so different? Deep down he knew though, you weren’t just any woman. He was afraid though, afraid that naming what you were to him out loud would make it real. And when it is real, it can hurt you. 

There weren’t very many stories on One’s where the love didn’t end up requited, either because it just simply never happened. Dwarves were incredibly stubborn creatures after all, and it was entirely possible that they just wore down their other half until some sort of connection formed. It was also possible that those unfortunate few who weren’t able to woo their other half died of broken hearts. The former was unlikely as Kili kept having to remind himself, he couldn’t die of a broken heart. Right?

He was determined tonight though, to find out definitively if the sparks he felt for you were just interest in the handsome woman from Bree, or if you truly were the other half of his soul. To do that though he would need to say more than a few words to you. The problem with that was that you seemed exceptionally busy tonight.

Busy you were, Brant had told you last night that he was going to be leaving today to go to visit family for some type of emergency. 

“If the place is still standing when I get back, we’ll talk more about it becoming yours someday.” He had said. You were hoping that that ‘someday’ was sooner rather than later. Brant was getting up there in years. Just last week he had hurt himself trying to lift one of the barrels of ale that had been shipped in from the Iron Hills. You had been taking on more and more of his old tasks and to be completely honest, it felt like you did the job of an owner anyway, just without all the benefits.

You weren’t going to let the man down though, even if it did mean rushing back and forth all night trying to keep up with demand all by yourself.

“Another! Y/N,” was yelled in front the back of the room. Roland was a boisterous man who got along with everyone, he was only a year or two older than you and was currently on his eighth pint of the night. He had a large countenance and seemed to fill up whatever space he occupied, he was handsome but the more and more he drank the less his looks mattered. Usually, this is the point in the night where he starts bordering more on unruly rather than fun-loving. Nevertheless, he was a paying customer and as long as he could still walk on his own out the doors, you weren’t going to say no to his money.

You grabbed another pint glass and poured one for him, balancing it and several other drinks on a tray. You steeled yourself with a deep breath before running back out into the fray. 

Walking close to the stool he was sat on you leaned slightly over him and placed his pint down on the counter beside him. He was engrossed in the conversation between the large group of men, something about the best way to skin a buck, you weren’t really listening. As you grabbed his empty glass to take back to the kitchen to be washed, his large hand encircled your wrist none too gently.

“A pint is a wonderful thing, but it is even more delicious when served by a beautiful lady,” He whispered into your ear. You grit your teeth and roughly pull your hand back. 

“Now, Roland, what have we said about touching things that don’t belong to you? Huh? Touch the wrong thing and you might just lose your hand.” You spit back at him. Cutting your eyes up at the mounted swords that rest above the fireplace only a few steps from where the two of you are. “I’d hate to have to clean those swords, they are sharp.” You look back into his eyes, satisfied with the fear that you see within them. You stand back up and place your tray back upon your shoulder. 

“Anything else I can get you gents?” You question the other men scattered about the space. Silence reigned over the air for a few moments. 

“Alrighty then.” 

A pint here, a glass of wine there, and two hot meals delivered later, your tray was empty and everyone in the place seemed momentarily satisfied. 

 Letting out a breath you lean up against the counter.

“What did you say to him?” A somewhat familiar voice pipes up beside you. You turn your head towards the voice. It's the dwarf prince, and you are once again struck with just how handsome he is. You are also struck with the familiar feeling of annoyance, of course, he picked now to talk to you. Just when you had finally afforded yourself a break.

“Hmm?” You raise a singular eyebrow at him. “Who?”

“That large and very drunk man in the back, I couldn’t hear what you said but I could see the look on his face. It was similar to my brother’s when our mother would scold him for forgetting his manners.”

“That’s not too far off actually, Roland over there got a little too comfortable and touched something that didn’t belong to him, I had to remind him of the rules.”

“And what exactly did he touch that was so forbidden?” The prince smirks and laughs.

You smirk back and lift a glass to your lips before uttering one single word, “Me.”

All of the laughter drained from Kili’s face, “He touched you?” His voice had gotten much lower, his eyes darkened right before you.

 You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to stop you right there Your Highness, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t need some man, no matter how handsome he is coming to defend my honor every time I’m even remotely slighted. The trail of bodies will get far too long.” You stare into his eyes as you speak, putting all the righteous fury you’ve got stored inside into each word. 

Seconds tick by before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think that we have bigger problems if that is the only thing you got from that.” You took another sip.

“No, no, no I got the point, you don’t need a big strong man to come to your rescue. Lucky for you, I am not big.”

The laugh that sprung from the back of your throat caught you off guard, you slap a hand over your mouth in an impossible effort to catch it and shove it back inside. He was funny, he had never been funny before.

Kili liked your laugh even though it was closer to a snort than an actual laugh, and he would be foolish to ignore the way his heart picked up at the thought that he was the one who made you laugh.

“You- I- I have never heard of a dwarf who makes fun of themselves, in my limited experience your lot are very prideful.”

“Not as prideful as some other races, I should think.”

“No, you’re not nearly as prideful as the pointy-eared bastards who hole themselves up in that accursed forest.” Your words held a healthy amount of rage as well as teasing.

“I sense that there is a story there somewhere.” Kili raised an eyebrow, mimicking your face from earlier. He was desperately trying not to think about the fact that this was the longest conversation the two of you had had up to date.

“One that I’m going to need a lot more liquid courage before divulging, I’m afraid.”

“We can make that happen.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows and pointed at the bottles of liquor behind the bar that separated the two of you.

At that very moment, a shout from the rowdy bunch of men in the back rang out, calling for another round.

“Duty calls your highness, but perhaps I will tell you that story… another time.” You winked at him and grabbed for your tray again, beginning to load it up once more. If that is how conversations with the dwarf prince went all the time, you wouldn’t mind having them more often.  

You walked away before Kili could come up with a response, but he was more certain than he ever had been that your heart called to his. Why else would the very sight of you walking away feel like his heart was leaving too?

Read Part 3 here: Troubled Hearts

tags: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10

[vixen-tech]

HIII :333 first requester here....I should get an emoji can i be 🫧 anon :ooo anway here's my req!! the ais with a reader who is just SO DOWN BAD. WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THEM. RUSHES FOR HELP if they crash or something. Just PATHETIC reader.

Stupidly Smitten

Hello you two!! This is one of those requests that I think work well enough to be combined into one post. You are just so extremely, pathetically in love with your Ai <3

Includes: Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Auto (Wall-E), Wheatley (Portal 2)

Hal 9000

Hal was unaware that a person could have so much love in them, let alone for him specifically. It was overwhelming at first, baffling when he realized it was only for him and not for any other crew members.

However he handles it in stride, able to calmly respond to your paragraphs of praise with the gentlest "Thank you, I deeply appreciate your companionship as well." Expertly concealing any signs of fluster as you giggle and kiss his camera lens.

Of your long list of cheesy nicknames, prince or prince charming tends to be a go to. A good match for his ever polite, gentlemanly nature. He reminds you that he was simply designed like that, but grows fond of the name anyway.

He very much appreciates the amount you volunteer around the ship. There is a lot that he can't do without a human crew and he adores the diligence you show in your work and the care with which you handle his ship.

Edgar

You and Edgar make the sappiest little feedback loop. It's an endless cycle of "I love you more." "No, I love you more!". To any outsider it would be exhausting to witness, but it's just how you two get out all your feelings.

He goes crazy for all your terms of endearment. 'Songbird' is a pretty easy match for him, but he loves literally every word that comes out of your mouth. Flipping each and every one back at you.

It's not unusual for you to do the same song and dance around the chores. Generally, he'll already have them done by the time you get home, but when you get the day off you always offer to do them yourself. He rarely lets you.

You've told him the time you often have your lunch break so you can chat over the phone while you eat. You're sure your coworkers are sick of you being such a cartoonishly in love couple, but you don't care. He makes you too happy for that.

Auto

Auto has absolutely no idea how to deal with you. He was not made to interact with many people and certainly not someone so affectionate. He may as well have bluescreened the first time you clumsily tried to hug him.

At first he resigns himself to just... sit still whenever you got in a lovey-dovey mood, letting you gush over him. Definitely not spending the rest of the day thinking about the way you said "See you later starlight!" when you finally let him get back to his job.

Over time he recognizes that he began to anticipate your visits, it's so different to how he's usually treated. He knew you had gotten to him when he went out if his to check up on you the day you missed one of your usual visits.

He usually rejects any help you attempt to offer him, his purpose is to handle the ship just fine all by himself. But after that episode he stops trying to push you away. If you're so happy tagging along, he might as well graciously allow you to do so, ignoring his complicated mess of feelings about you.

Wheatley

Oh the ego boost you give him is downright dangerous. If Wheatley was annoying before, now he is absolutely insufferable. Perfectly matches your energy though, you two cannot shut up about each other.

He makes your boundless affection everyone else's problem. "See, I reckon you're just jealous that you're not in a loving, committed relationship with such a lovely person like I am." He boasts. "My amazing romantic partner even calls me their sunshine. Cause I 'light up their life' as they say. Bet you wish you had someone like that."

He is always fishing for compliments, trying to show off for you in any way he psychically can to get some of those sweet sweet words of affirmation. To his delight you always do, grabbing him for some well placed kisses.

He'll even go so far as to reject any assistance you offer him so he can prove he's all cool and competent by doing it himself. Although it's never too long before he gives up and sheepishly asks for your help.

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ³

𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a ghost from your past makes a surprise appearance, dragging forth all the regrets and wishes you'd spent years trying to drown. and yet, some strange string of Fate keeps you and the future king of the pirates intertwined, for better or for worse.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, ANGST, alcohol, an existential crisis probably

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: the 1 (long pond), i want to live, son of nyx

series masterlist

If someone asked you how many years you’d been a marine, your answer would be uhm, well, less than ten, because the actual number was lost to you. But you knew it’d been less than ten. Being with the marines for more than a decade was a thought that shot nausea straight to your gut.

However long it’d been, things had reached a comfortable norm. You rarely saw Koby those days. Back when you were stationed on the same ship, you and he had grown close, finding something familiar in the soul of the other. Now Koby was a captain, you were just under him in rank as a commander, and the two of you were under different commands. 

You rarely noticed when a day passed anymore. It was all a numbing cycle of chores, reports, and arrests—repeat. Your cohorts had taken to a game they called Make-Y/N-Crack, in which they did everything in their power to draw any sort of reaction from you.

No one had won so far, your deadpan too seeped into your whole being that you’d near forgotten how to smile.

Your main indicator of a passage of time was the wear and tear of Luffy’s wanted poster, one of his very first, and certainly not his last. It was faded in some places and torn in a corner, but you held it close to you wherever you went, including the island your ship was stopped at for supplies. 

Given that the ship would be there for a few days, you and your fellows had one night to yourselves to roam the town and do as you pleased. 

“Commander—”

“We’re off duty, Nia. Call me my name,” you said evenly, cutting off the soldier girl. Nia burned bright red, mouth snapping shut. You sighed. “What do you need?”

“Well, I was just wondering why you’re going that way?” she asked, jutting her chin at the side street you’d been headed toward when she called you back. Behind Nia, a rowdy crowd of fellow marines waited for their friend to join, each casting you a contemplative kind of glower. “We’re all headed to the bar, if you wanted to come?”

They all hated you, for reasons you didn't bother to fathom. All except Nia, who was possibly too gentle to be a commissioned marine, in your opinion. “I’m fine. I know where I’m going.”

She nodded once and turned tail, jogging after her friends who nudged her shoulder with a tease you didn’t catch. You stood for a moment and watched them go; you watched their easy smiles and close camaraderie, and you missed that.

Koby flourished in this line of work, setting out everyday to make this world better. You felt you should be doing the same—that you were doing the same—but it all felt so useless. So mundane. Worthless.

You had yet to cross paths with the pirate Monkey D. Luffy. It hadn't yet been a decade, but what if ten years did pass? What then? Would you continue as you are, mindlessly walking a path you’d carved for yourself?

“I need a drink,” you muttered, turning back down the dimly lit street. 

You were somewhat familiar with the town, having been here once before around a year ago. Koby had been with you then, that being one of your last weeks together before he was promoted and moved to a different ship.

It was your intention to find the cozy tavern once again to maybe mull over some of your less-bitter memories. That thought had you running a hand over your face. What’s become of me?

Sometimes you forgot why you’d joined the marines, and then the poster tucked into the pocket of your coat burned with the reminder. Other times, you wondered why you stayed after all this time (you hadn't found a decent answer for that yet).

You found it was easier to get drunk than to wonder where your decisions had led you.

The moment you stepped into the tavern a wave of warm air hit you, along with the odor of sweat, alcohol, and bread. Not the most pleasing combination, but you trudged inside and beelined for the bar anyway. 

The bartender shot you a tight grin, stress lining her forehead. “What can I get ya?”

“Surprise me,” you muttered, setting some money down on the counter. She swiped it up and made to fetch a drink, but her eyes found your messy uniform first. She hesitated, glancing up at you, before warily continuing on her way.

You threw your head into your hands, heaving a sigh. You really should have changed before leaving the ship. Being a marine didn’t make you popular with a great many people. You liked it when town’s smiled at you even when they saw your uniform, but those occurrences were growing fewer and farther between.

If only you had Koby’s optimism. If only you had the guts to stand up. If only you’d gone with Luffy. If only, if only, if only…

He’d probably forgotten all about you, moved on with the sea in his hair and light in his eyes. 

“Here you go.” The bartender placed a drink to your right. You cast it a glance and pulled it closer, peering into the dark liquid. “Strong stuff. Ya look like you need it.”

You nodded through a huffy laugh. “Thanks, miss.”

After cracking your neck you tipped back your drink, grimacing at the sting and just plain awful taste. She chuckled as she walked away. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled into the cup, taking another swig and slamming it back down with a cough.

A figure plopped into the seat beside you, the ruffling of their coat meeting your ears. They let free a hefty sigh, and you swore you felt their exhaustion just radiating off their skin. 

“Brandy, if you please.”

You choked into your cup, this time not from the rancid burn. Stiff as a board, you stared daggers into the bar, hands tight around the cup. The bartender handed over a glass to the person beside you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” That voice was gruff with a sly tilt to it. You knew that voice.

You didn’t want to turn, but you did anyway, wide eyes landing on the profile of a one armed, red haired pirate you thought for certain you’d never see again.

Shanks swirled around his liquor before taking a drink, slamming the cup back down a moment later. Really, you should have fled the site and gone to spend a miserable night with the other marines. But your whole body was seized up, eyes locked on Luffy’s idol.

“I—” you squeaked, cupping a hand over your mouth an instant later as Shanks cast you a side eye.

Immediately, he was curious, wondering why exactly this kid looked so familiar. He turned his head, disturbed by how you stared at him like you’d seen a ghost. scrutinizing your face, it hit him like a punch to the gut; in his mind’s eye he shrank you down a few feet, gave you a set of buck teeth, and placed you next to a little curly headed boy.

“Y/N?” He laughed. “What—You’re so big!”

Though he smiled, you couldn’t help but picture his face in a wanted poster. Your uniform felt all too hot and heavy all of a sudden. “Uh…”

“What’re you doing here, kid?” He clapped you on the shoulder and nearly knocked the breath out of you. “Where’s Luffy? I never thought I’d see one without the other.”

You hated to spoil his excitement at the prospect of seeing the boy, so you avoided the question altogether. “I’m here for work.”

He saw right through you, his smile losing some of its genuineness. “And Luffy?” You turned and tipped back the last of your drink, and Shanks finally noticed your attire, particularly the familiar emblem. “Shit—the Marines? Really?”

Annoyance crept up your mind. You held your cup in both hands, gaze hung. “Commander Y/N, at your service.”

“Commander… wow.” He shifted to completely face you, a grin working up his face. “That’s amazing.”

You had expected a shout, maybe the retrieval of his pistol. Not whatever that was. You faced him warily, catching pride flashing in his eyes. “You’re not angry…”

“Why would I be?” He waved for the bartender to bring him another drink, motioning two fingers at her. “You’re successful. Always knew you would be, Worm.”

A childish part of you fluttered at the mention of that old nickname. Bookworm. Hah. You hardly read these days, always too busy. The bartender put down two shot glasses and swept away. “But… My job is to catch pirates like you.”

He scoffed, nudging your glass toward you. “No offense, Commander Bookworm, but you’re not catching me anytime soon.”

“I wasn't going to try. Just saying.” You picked up the glass and watched him reach to clink his to yours. Letting slide a scant smirk, you accepted the cheers and shot back the liquid in sync with Shanks. 

You nearly gagged again as you set the glass back down, laughing. “God, I hate liquor.”

Shanks nudged you as he called for yet another drink. “Can’t say the same.” The conversation fell short, and Shanks cast you a glance as you fiddled with the fabric of your coat. “Mind if I ask how you got here? I mean, I figured for sure you’d be with Luffy. You’ve seen his poster, right?”

“Of course,” you snapped back, your hand passing over your pocket. “I, uhm… A while back, Luffy escaped…”

His eyes held a misty sadness. “And you didn’t.”

You found yourself shaking your head, hands closing into fists. “I chose to stay behind.”

Shanks waited for you to elaborate, blinking blankly. And when you didn’t— “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Excuse me,” you startled.

“Why the fuck,” he enunciated incredulously, “would you stay behind? He’s gotta be beside himself.”

Straightening up, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Even if he was, it’s been years, Red Hair. He’s gotten over it—”

“Have you?” The question was instantaneous, no hesitation behind the dagger-like words.

“What?”

“Gotten over it. I doubt you have.”

You gaped at him. “You know nothing about me. Don’t think you’ve got me all figured out just because you ruined my life by giving Luffy all those stupid dreams—” You choked, huffed, and attempted to make a quick escape.

Shanks’ hand found your shoulder, gentle yet firm, and you plopped back onto your seat, eyes closed tight. “Let me go.”

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Okay? I’ll back off.”

Without asking or saying anything at all, the bartender set another glass of that awful drink in front of you. You took a sip, shaking his hand off and taking a moment to breathe. “It was for the best, all right? I would only hold him back. Look how far he’s come. He couldn’t have done that with me lagging after him.”

“Why would you be lagging?” When you didn’t answer, only turning your face away, he nudged you with his shoulder. “Worm?”

That name made it hard to take anything seriously, but somehow, you managed, hissing out a sigh through your teeth. “It’s much easier to read about other people being brave.” Chewing your lip, “I like to read about heroes, mostly to remind myself why I’m not one.”

“You’re a marine. Surely sometimes you’re a hero.”

“Sometimes.” Throwing caution to the wind, you drank your whole glass in one swig, letting the alcohol simmer through your blood and turn your mind hazy. 

“What did you mean,” he asked. “When you said I ruined your life?”

“Oh. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

You tried to slide off the stool again. “Goodbye, Shanks.”

He didn’t stop you this time, only shifting to watch you slowly trudge away. Shanks scoffed. “C’mon, Worm. What’re you so afraid of?”

Lots of things. You were afraid of spiders and falling, though not of heights themselves, and you quite liked the daddy-long-legs. You were afraid of losing, of failing, of being wrong. Of seeing Luffy again and having him be completely disappointed with what he saw. An all consuming fear that you can’t change what you are, that you’re too far down this road to ever think of turning back.

You hardly realized you’d stopped walking until Shanks was at your side, moving to catch your distracted gaze. “Kid?”

You swallowed thickly. “I was always content with my fate. Luffy wasn’t, and a lot of that has to do with you. The rest was his own passion.” That incessant burn resurfaced in your throat. “So I stayed because I wasn’t about to drag him down with me. He’s too good. I…”

Dammit. You’d been doing so well. You hadn’t cried in months. Trying to glare, you spat, “Goodbye.”

You made to walk past him and actually leave the building this time, but he caught your wrist. Whirling around, your curses were cut off by a quick and dangerous offer: “Come join my crew.”

Shanks was so sincere, nearly hopeful as he stared into your eyes. You wondered if this is how your father would look at you if he knew how to be kind.

Barely breathing, you shoved every word and every notion down to the pits of your mind, retracting your arm to wrap it around yourself. A singular tear fled your eye and was wiped away in an instant. Shaking your head, you backed away from him, trying not to stumble, and bolted out of the tavern. 

The worst of it was Shanks’ sad sigh you caught as you fled, like he’d expected this, like he was wondering why he bothered to ask.

Later, you found Nia and the others waltzing back up to the ship. Your face was dry and your expression a void, and Nia smiled as she raced toward you. 

“Commander!” She skidded to a stop, backtracking, “Sorry. Y/N.”

“What is it?” you said a little too harshly.

She wasn’t perturbed, grinning up at you. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Your heart held this odd numbness you had come to equate with acceptance. Luffy’s poster burned like hellfire in your pocket. “I think so.”

Nia invited you to join the rest of them in the ship’s galley, promising good conversation and cheap wine smuggled on board. You told her you’d think about it, and she chased her friends up the gangway and onto the ship. 

The sea licked at the wood of the docks and the wind bit at your skin. And you stood solemnly, watching that crumpled wanted poster become saturated by murky water till it sank out of view.

You regretted it instantly, a recurring theme for you, apparently. 

How easy would it be to walk away from the marine vessel and find Shanks again? How simple would it be it to ditch this marine’s coat and set off on your own? Your hands started to tremble at the very notion. Not easy and not simple at all. 

Casting a glance up at the starry sky, you bit back a sob, and you made a wish on the first star you laid eyes on. Please, please don’t hate me.

Stiffening, you set your jaw and cursed yourself. You had to get a hold of yourself. Being a marine was hell for you, but you’d been doing it for years. Seeing a ghost from your past and having him give you a chance shouldn’t be so crushing. Honestly, you should be cursing Shanks for giving you an offer you didn’t deserve. This was all his fault, all Luffy’s fault—

And you broke, breath seizing as a silent cry fled your lips. 

You loved him—of course you still loved him. You would until you died, you think. And that was the problem. With your arms wrapped around yourself, you thought back to the day everything changed.

Luffy’s little broken boat, disappearing on the horizon, Vice Admiral Garp leering at your shoulder. Your first moments entrapped by fear. You’d been proud of that day, once upon a time. Now you weren’t so sure.

Was there any room to turn back, with years of running from your past behind you?

“Oh, Luffy. What have I done?”

A cord in your heartstrings snapped, and your feet scrambled away from the marine vessel. A gasp ripped from your chest, eyes aflame, and your fists tightened desperately around this bout of courage.

Back down the road, back to the little tavern, you burst through the double doors, certain you looked insane as your eyes sweeped the dim room. The bartender’s eyes snapped up from where she was cleaning the many glasses you and Shanks had left behind. A fistfull of beri had been left in his wake.

“Keep going left,” said the bartender. “You might catch him.”

A thank you slipped past your lips as you raced outside, raising your hands in two L’s to pinpoint the right direction, taking off down the street that faded from cobblestone to dirt under your footfalls. 

Over twigs and leaves, under trees that grew thick further down the path, your heart thundered against your ribcage. The sloping road grew thin before it gave way to a secluded beach lit only by the moon. Your chest heaved as sand kicked up behind you.

“Wait!” you cried. “Shanks! Wait, please! I'll go with you! Shanks…”

A little lantern illuminated the dingy too far away to hear you as it rowed closer to the ship anchored out in the bay. A whisper of his name fell off your tongue, throat suddenly dry and stomach sick.

You hit your knees, fists grabbing at grains of sand that slipped through your fingertips. “Come back. Please…”

For the second time in your life, you watched a ship sail away carrying with it the chance of freedom, leaving you on the sand empty and helpless.

જ⁀➴

Luffy rarely dreamed when he slept. When he did dream, he never remembered it, the wild scenes fading seconds after he woke. 

Which is why he startled awake, hands clawing at his hammock, straw hat falling off his face and into his lap. He clung to the sound of your laughter, of your touch grazing his cheek, of the feel of your skin under his hands—

He didn’t dream often, but when he did, he often dreamt of you. 

He rubbed at his sleep crusted eyes and ached for the quickly fading memory. The finer details of the plot were soon lost on him, but he knew in this dream you were happy. Luffy liked those dreams much more than the more common ones where you cried, too far out of his reach to comfort.

“Luffy?” spoke Chopper, his voice hazy with sleep as he yawned. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Confused, Luffy realized he was gasping for air. “O–Oh, I’m fine, Chopper.” He glanced down from his hammock to offer the reindeer a trembling smile. “I’m good, really.”

Not buying it, Chopper huffed and stood from his own hammock, making quick work of climbing up to Luffy’s. He sat across from his captain, worry all over his furry face. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He reached over to ruffle the tuft of fur between Chopper’s antlers. “Sorry for waking you.”

He smiled softly. “It’s okay.” Chopper started to snuggle into the fabric of the hammock, obviously having no intention of climbing back down. “I was having a bad dream too.”

Luffy leaned back, doing his best to calm his nerves enough to go back to sleep. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Nami was angry at me. It wasn’t fun.”

The captain laughed, promptly shut up by a voice from the hammock underneath. “Shut up, would ya?”

Chopper squeaked, “Sorry, Zoro.”

The swordsman sighed and rustled in his hammock. “It's fine. Go to bed.”

Soon Zoro’s snores filled the mens’ quarters, and Chopper’s calm breathing soon followed. Sanji and Usopp snored in tandem as well, till only Luffy remained awake, staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to recall his dream.

You couldn’t be happy, wherever you were. How long had it been? Far too long, though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed since he last saw you on the beach of Foosha Village. 

Would he recognize you? Would you recognize him? Luffy had to hope the answer was yes, and he had to hope one day he’d have the chance to rescue you, to set you free just as you freed him.

“I’ll find you,” he threatened the silence. “You can’t hide forever.”

Miles and miles away, kneeling on the sand, you swore you heard a familiar voice in the wind, but it couldn’t have been. You were halfway near drunk. That must've been it.

Luffy turned his head to look out the window of the cabin, and you tilted your chin to stare at the stars. The stars twinkled down on the both of you, promises and threats hung on the wind and sea that separated you. 

Some endings are always meant for tragedy. Some loves are meant for doom. It was how Fate worked. 

But Fate favored you and Luffy—forever working to save the other, forever aching for the day that would bring you side by side once again. 

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