#then two pages later is neapolitan

[soleilnomoon]

HEYYYY 2/20 REQUESTS!! LETS GOOOO

ice cream sundae, nougat, neapolitan rose, ice cream cake with honey and caramel!!! for trafalgar law as I'm a one trick pony

give us the pirate x marine angst!! the tension!! the forbidden love!! getting caught by Law and forced (not really, reader wants this badly but has an act to uphold) to play his lustful game where reader ends up throwing out the act in the end and just wants him, and he gives and makes them stay on his crew after!

"don't think I'll let you run back to your shitty marine corps, you're staying with me. but first, I need to punish you some more for all those times you've stopped my crew..."

"oki bb, whatever you say~💅✨😘"

let's pretend i didn't take 100 years to finish this request, however!!!! i had so much fun (i love enemies to lovers sfm, as u know ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡) so sorry it took forever, but it's here at last. i hope you enjoy bc i def had way too much fun writing this.

6.5k words (i know omg, i know shhh), fem reader, nsfw, 18+, mdni; angst angst angst, fluff? don't know her; she doesn't exist here. smut, obvy bc that's what i do ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა enemies 2 lovers, babey. feat. cutesy things like alcohol, public exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), pussy slapping, lil bit of nipple play, other stuff probably; idk law is a mean bitch bc he can't handle his feelings; reader is a marine who has zero self preservation obviously. both of them need to shuddup and kiss. (if u see spelling/grammar errors no u didn't; also the section in italics is a longass flashback i'm not sorry).

“because i am the kind of woman who leaves scars” — anaïs nin

ONE, TWO, THREE

when you received your promotion earlier on in the year, you assumed the higher ups would loosen their leash and let you do as you please. to your inevitable disappointment, they haven’t; you learn this the hard way when several thick stacks of documents are left for you to review on your desk one brisk morning. you scoff, fight the urge to set them on fire, and plop down on the cushioned chair. with your boots propped on top of the desk and feet crossed at the ankles, you close your eyes and sort through the running list of tasks you need to complete before you can set off for the new world.

it's never your intention to think about trafalgar law, but somehow he always finds a way to sneak into your thoughts throughout the day. agitation works its way slowly through your veins, teeth clenched as you grind them against each other. it’s even worse at night, where you find yourself twisted in your bed sheets, tossing and turning, plagued by dreams where his hand wraps around your throat almost too easily. instead of fighting him off, you’re always breathless and mesmerized, lips parted and wanting — his amber eyes holding you in place, seeing through all your thick layers and steel walls that you’ve erected to protect yourself.

no one’s ever penetrated them before and survived.

it's terrifying and unsettling that you always wake up panting, trembling fingers clutching the front of your shirt desperately, sweat pooling around your temples, curls frizzing from the humidity. you fear that your heart is beating hard enough to incapacitate you and you clamp your hand over your mouth as if it’ll prevent you from screaming out in frustration. if you keep your eyes closed, you can still feel his hands around your throat; if you keep your eyes closed, you can ignore the guilt that accompanies those dreams and tread the dangerous path towards impossible fantasies.

an unsteady tightrope that you tackle head on — one foot in front of the other, blindfolded and nervous, unsure of what awaits you at the end.

there’s nothing abnormal about a marine trying to figure out a pirate’s next moves, but your case is a little different. irritated at yourself, you kick your feet off the desk and knock the documents over; the pages float through the air and you laugh as you ignore the mess. you suppose you’ll sort through it all later. the transponder snail rings loud enough to startle you, but you take your time answering.

you pop a mint into your mouth and chew thoughtfully, not bothering with pleasantries as your voice denotes your irritation. “what is it?” you’ve never been one to be polite when speaking to other marines — no matter the rank; and since your mood still hasn’t lifted, you don’t bother pretending.

“oh, absolutely not,” you grit out, brows furrowed, a frown settling on your lips. the commodore refuses to let up, berating you for your past failures and reminding you that as a captain you need to be setting a proper example for your subordinates. right now, the commodore was not happy with you; and if he’d let you explain the situation, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so inclined to lecture you like a child.

“right but—” you’re cut off by another long diatribe of his and the longer he speaks, the angrier you get. “well if you’d listen, then i could—” again, you’re unable to get a word in; you try several times over to no avail. irritation swells inside of you, an itch you can’t quite scratch yet; you clutch the receiver tightly and end up hanging it up once more foolishness is spewed your way. it’s ridiculous that headquarters wants you to drop your current mission and focus on capturing law. they refuse to let you shirk any responsibility as you let him escape the last time you crossed paths. you knew the decision would come to haunt you, but you didn’t think it would be this soon. and while you had a very valid reason for letting him go, you still can’t forget the last thing he said to you before slipping away. it follows you around throughout every day, an unrelenting reminder of your incompetence.

weakness is not an option, even if the enemy in question tends to throw your world into chaos whenever he sees you.

FOUR, FIVE, SIX

you’re nursing your fifth shot of vodka when trafalgar law approaches you; the pub is dingy, overcrowded, but popular. you’re not much of a fan, but the alcohol is cheap — business is always booming. since you typically don’t wear a uniform regardless, no one seems to recognize you — it could be the fact that most of the patrons are drunk or exhausted or a combination of both. you’re too damn tired to make any arrests so you drink to your sorrows and ignore the ache on your face and shoulder.

he slides into your booth, opting to sit right next to you, leg bumping against yours without a care. you cast a sharp glance his way, scowling as you knock back the shot. there’s something off with him tonight; he’s much too relaxed — in all the years you’ve been pursuing him, you’ve never seen him with a devil-may-care attitude. until now.

“bold of you to assume i won’t take your head right here and now,” you say lightly, alcohol sitting heavily on your chest; you’re sure that that’s the reason why you suddenly feel out of breath, but you steel your features in his presence and trace the tip of your finger around the rim of your shot glass. you observe him through your lashes, eyes trailing along his jaw, admiring the distinct features that you can never tire of. if he was uglier, then you’d have no problem dealing with him. but he’s not. it pisses you off.

law pauses, mulls over your words, and tilts his head as he studies you. “that’s the thing,” he leans forward, crowds your space until you back yourself against the wall, wary and critical as you narrow your eyes at him. if he gets any closer, you might not be able to resist whatever nonsense he’ll tout your way. his voice is unnecessarily hypnotic, but if you voice that out loud, he’ll never let you live it down. “you’re not in a position to act right now.” how he knows that is beyond you, but you suck your teeth and roll your eyes.

“don’t test me, i’m not in the mood.” not that you ever are in the mood to deal with him, but he doesn’t need to know that. “now, leave me alone.” you’d rather ignore his presence altogether, but he’s doing that thing where he makes you squirm under his gaze; you try to hide it, but he catches the movement, eyes dipping lower as he takes in your appearance.

it's hot out and you opted for something breezy and short, sleeveless and stress free. you blame the vodka for bringing an uninvited heat to your face when he leans in again; and you blame the vodka for not giving you time to defend yourself against his sorcery. because that’s what it is — that’s what you keep telling yourself, anyway — why else would you inhale deep enough to commit his cologne to memory.

absurd. foolish. this sort of behavior will get you killed.

and yet—

he snorts — a surprise to you both — and coughs to clear his throat. “what will you do if i don’t?” you almost slap him, but keep your hands balled into fists, nails sinking into your palms to keep yourself grounded. it’s not the words that get to you, but the rich timber of his voice drips onto your skin, permeating through the layers, its huskiness mixing into your blood.

his is a voice you’ll never forget, and you hate that so fucking much.

frowning, you fold your arms against your chest, cheeks slightly puffed, that heat still lingering on your face as you try to steady your heartrate. his eyes are hawkish, raking over your body in broad sweeping motions; you watch his throat as he swallows, and suddenly you’re very aware of his proximity. you’re both silent for a long moment, but when you part your lips to speak, you choke on your words as law tugs on your plump bottom lip with his fingers.

you stare at him incredulously, but you don’t move; normally you tell him off, give him scathing words and go back and forth until you’re both too tired to continue. to make matters worse, your tongue darts out and briefly flicks against his finger. a harsh current of electricity shoots up the length of his arm, making him retract his hand quickly. he gives you a hardened stare, jaw clenched, eyes narrowing before muttering something under his breath. you catch the words, “ridiculous” and “unnecessary” and “how irritating.”

you want to point out that he’s the irritating one, but you’re still reeling from what you’ve done. shame settles onto your shoulders, makes it hard to move around. so you order another drink. you half-expect law to leave, but he doesn’t, which is strange. very, very strange. you don’t bother talking to him but find that you can’t ignore his presence any longer. his knee presses against your thigh and he leans against the palm of his hand while his elbow is propped on the table. always silently watching, crafting contingency plan after contingency plan — you’re a wildcard that needs to be dealt with. swiftly.

it must be an act of pure possession that forces him to snatch the shot glass out of your hand and chuckle darkly when you try to grab it back. the words that fly out of your mouth are tart yet welcomed; he’s comforted by that sort of behavior, because it’s predictable. and it’s your predictability that will allow him the chance to escape with his crew. when he brings the glass to his lips, you feel your annoyance reach its peak.

“don’t. you. dare.”

it's your drink, he needs to get his own. granted, you definitely don’t need to drink anymore; but you’re committed to wallowing and throwing a pity party that you don’t want law to interrupt. the vodka floods his senses as soon as its in his mouth, you watch in horror as he finishes your drink, a small smirk prancing onto his lips when he places the glass down. he’s testing your patience, you know that, however it doesn’t stop you from grabbing onto his shirt, fisting the fabric as you bring your face close to his.

“the fuck did i just say? what is your damn problem?” your anger is rolls off of you — lethal and toxic, spreading through the air — but it only furthers his interest in you, although he’ll deny that later on. he’s not sure why, but he grabs your chin roughly and runs his tongue along your lips. your breath stills, and you wonder if maybe this is all a dream; since you’re properly distracted, he releases your chin and grips your neck, long fingers pressing into the sides. firm enough to make you gasp, but not hard enough to cut off your breathing completely.

you can feel your pulse skyrocket, and while you try to keep calm, you can’t; not when he traps your bottom lip in between his teeth, not when his other hand runs along the inside of your thigh, and not when you inhale sharply and lean forward to kiss him impulsively. you completely take him off guard, as he fully expected you to fight him a bit more. law rubs his thumb along your neck before squeezing it again, slanting his lips against yours, tongue stroking hotly and licking inside your mouth. you were upset he took your drink, but you can taste the alcohol on his tongue — it’s more potent than the other five shots you downed previously.

his hand inches higher, fingers gliding underneath your dress, goosebumps pricking your skin mercilessly with every swipe of his tongue. you place your hands on his chest, the warmth from your skin nearly burning through his clothes. this is a mistake; he knows it, he should’ve left you alone — but he knows that’s easier said than done. besides, you’re one of the few constants in his chaotic life right now. he kisses you to sate his growing appetite, but it’s not enough; if anything, it only stokes the mania that he keeps locked away. ravenous and unyielding; he knows better than to open that door just yet.

your lips are softer than he imagined, plush and inviting, supple enough to stir certain feelings that he continues to ignore. his annoyance still lingers as his arousal builds inside of him; he didn’t think you’d be this pliant, didn’t think you’d allow him to squeeze and caress your thigh like that. in all honesty, you just aren’t thinking; he’s taken that away from you — all your logic and sound judgement — and when the tips of his fingers graze the front of your panties, you let out a soft whimper that nearly makes him forget himself.

he swallows all your doubts and worries, gives rise to a feverish madness that whirls inside of you; turbulent, accosting in nature, a force to be reckoned with. he only meant to tease you, but in return he set himself up for failure; his cock strains inside of his jeans, the front pressing painfully against his half-stiff length. if he doesn’t stop soon, if he doesn’t find a way to purge you from his system, he might never be able to stop touching you.

law’s fingers stroke along the front of your panties, the fabric growing damp as he rubs firm circles on your clothed cunt. you nearly leap out of your skin, whine pathetically against his lips, legs spreading as he applies more pressure. a small voice in the back of his mind reminds him that he’s wasting time, but when he tugs your panties to the side, when his long fingers work their way inside of your needy hole, he forgets himself. your walls are warm and tight, and squeeze around his fingers as soon as he starts to move them.

the pace he sets is slow enough to annoy you, but you moan against his lips, he plunges his fingers deeper — enjoying the way your pussy clenches around his fingers with each thrust. impulse coats your tongue, makes you kiss him wildly to gain control of the situation; your hips roll forward, desperate to chase the high that is just outside of your reach. he pulls away, chest heaving, eyes darkening as he keeps moving his fingers; you’re left in a daze, fury rising at your inability to resist his charm and at the shameless way you let him handle your body.

it's pride that prevents you from calling out his name, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you stifle the wanton noises that rattle around the back of your throat. because he’s determined to not let you have your way, he plucks his fingers out of you and admires the way your slick wetness drips slowly down the length of his fingers. appalled and embarrassed enough to want to hide forever, you look around to make sure no one is paying any attention.

“wipe them off,” you whisper loudly. law looks at you briefly, an idea forming as he pulls you close and swipes his fingers along your lips. they glisten under the dim lighting, and you can feel a flush take hold of your entire body. before you can say anything, he licks the remainder of your arousal off his fingers and then licks your lips again.

“sweet.”  he blurts it without thinking — more so an observation than anything else, but he berates himself internally for not keeping the comment to himself.

your thoughts scatter, a shiver gliding down your back as you watch him with widened eyes. it doesn’t take long for your brain to start functioning normally again, but the residual embarrassment will stay with you for the duration of the night. after smacking his hand, you scoot away in the hopes of ridding yourself of the moment. absently, you lick your lips, mind replaying that small series of events over and over, tipping your sanity over the edge.

“go away,” you say again, as you try to quiet the thundering beats from your heart. you squeeze your thighs together, ignore the way the ache keeps growing, and hope that whatever spell he cast on you disappears once he leaves. you’re surprised that you can formulate coherent statements, as you’re still trying to sort through the haze from your arousal and your rising anger. “you had no right—”

“relax, relax,” he says nonchalantly, shoulders loose as he grins devilishly at you. “you’re making quite the scene. i’m sure you’d like to keep your identity hidden in here, right?” you swallow back your retort, eyes roaming around the pub as you take in the various pirates that have gathered there. he makes a solid point. if you cause a scene, you won’t be able to fight them all; you’d certainly try, though. he can tell. brows knitted closely together, you consider your options, but ultimately decide to back off.

“fine.” it’s difficult for you to let things go, but you don’t need anymore broken bones; your subordinates are still resting, so you can’t risk putting their lives in danger all to shut trafalgar law up. “are you done? can you leave, now?” because it unnerves you that he still hasn’t moved away.

the issue is that he doesn’t know how to leave you alone; he hates the power you hold over him, the one you wield without trying. and then you have the nerve to act clueless; he’s certain you know exactly what you’re doing, and he won’t believe otherwise. still, he shouldn’t linger any longer, because if you decide to change your mind — which, he suspects, could happen if he pushes you hard enough — then he’ll draw more attention to himself than necessary.

he takes the initiative to slide out of the booth and regards you coolly, that stoic mask he’s infamous for returning in full force. with a tilt of his head, he says, “we’ll play again another time, firefly,” and strides out of the pub without looking back at you. once the night air hits his face, a burst of clarity follows; it takes a lot for him to keep walking, to inhale through his nostrils to calm himself completely. by the time he reaches the polar tang, he’s agitated all over again. his crew mates know better than to ask questions, and he motions for them to start preparing the ship for the next voyage.

if any of your subordinates find out what happened, you’ll be ruined. still, you can’t say you detested any of it — if anything, you feel more invigorated than before.

SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE

that memory drives you to act; reminds you that you have a mission to uphold, that as a marine you must prioritize the safety of the public over whimsical fantasies about a man who intentionally tries to catch you off guard whenever possible. if the commodore caught wind that you not only let law escape, but that you kissed him too. you gather the scattered documents together and sift through them quickly; you know what is expected of you. if you don’t catch law soon, they’ll demote you; and not that you care about promotions or titles, there’s a certain level of freedom awarded at your status as a captain.

you refuse to give that up.

it doesn’t take long, but you gather a small group to travel with you to the new world; they’re not the bravest, but they’re stealthy and creative. you don’t need brash idiots who will run into battle without thinking things through — not that you have room to talk, you’re much more reckless than you let on. it takes a little more than six days to reach your destination, a lovely island full of lush plants and flowers, with lively towns and villages. you reach the island before the heart pirates do and bide your time until they discreetly dock along the coast.

it's been two months since the last time he saw you and he’s yet to find some semblance of peace because of it. while law prides himself on being able to multitask, to be able to think several steps ahead of his enemy, he can admit that you tend to divert his plans without even trying. insomnia prevents him from properly resting, although that’s due to the way his thoughts are often haunted by the memory of your lips on his. if he closes his eyes, he can still picture the way you struggled to keep quiet, the way your pussy kept sucking his fingers back in; he should be disgusted and ashamed, except he’s not.

and even as fatigue settles over his bones, weighs him down, chaining him to his bed, his mind still won’t let up. it’s because he hates you, that his cock won’t let up. he hates how you can’t seem to take a hint, hates the way you insist on chasing after him, and hates how you defy his expectations every single time. it’s almost always late at night when he dreams of you — writhing underneath him, skin littered with bite marks and bruises courtesy of the brutish way he handles you — and he’s always startled awake, desire coiling around his legs, restricting his movements as he fists his cock.

it's out of hatred and annoyance, it’s what he keeps telling himself — even after he bites his fist to keep from moaning out loud — but the lie gets harder to tell as the days go on.

bepo takes note of law’s change in demeanor, confers with penguin before confronting their captain with his theories. law sighs loudly, irritation coming to a boil, festering underneath his skin as he tries to listen calmly.

“i’m staying one step ahead,” he says smoothly, flipping through a medical textbook and ignoring the pointed looks from shachi; he’s read this book before, but they don’t need to know that. “what do you think will happen if we don’t eliminate her soon?” his notoriety has caught up with him; there’s very few islands he can frequent openly without having to worry about the navy catching him. not that he actually worries about that, but still. it’s rich, though, coming from him — and bepo almost points it out but refrains when he catches the look on law’s face, the one that chills him to his bones, makes him shrink back and keep quiet for the duration of the morning.

law grinds his teeth together, ignoring the guilt that plagues him; it’s not bepo’s fault, but he’s on edge and doesn’t see a clear way out just yet. he instructs his crew to scope out the area and set up camp; he’s not too concerned with any navy interference, but one can never be too careful on the grand line. it’s intentional when law loudly announces that he’s heading to town alone, already discovering one of your subordinates before carrying on; he leaves his first catch behind for his crew to deal with, while he waits for you to find him.

you don’t know why you thought this would be easy; infiltration is your specialty, but with this lot you’re not able to be as discreet as you hoped. you’ve had to shush a few of them several times already, much to their annoyance — although, they don’t voice that out loud, instead opting to mumble under their breaths to one another instead. you don’t care, though; you’re focused on the mission at hand. you follow law as quickly as possible, going from street to alleyway — but when you take the wrong turn, you can’t find him anywhere.

it's suspiciously quiet around you, which is when you notice that the others are nowhere to be seen. great. just great. you’ll have to scold them later, but for now, you’ll just do the job your damn self. after an hour of searching, of combing through the crowds of people in the hopes of spotting law, you nearly give up. a familiar hand grabs onto your arm and pulls you into a nearby alley. you stumble and law uses the momentum to shove you against the wall — weathered bricks crumbling as you look up at him. anger courses through you, but before you can act, he smiles slyly and confusion takes hold of your face.

“before you say anything,” he starts, voice smooth and intoxicating, “your men are being held captive.” it’s not that he cares enough to tell you, but he thoroughly enjoys the way desperately try to steel your features to appear unaffected by his news. “they’re not your usual crew,” he muses out loud, eyes narrowing as he tries to figure out if he’s missing something.

you simply shrug, opting for nonchalance — even though you can feel your heart leap out of your chest when he moves closer to you. “what can i say,” you pause, lick your lips, mind racing as you try to buy some time, “i have a lot of men under me.” an unintentional slip of the tongue, one that simultaneously impresses and infuriates him; mostly because he now has an image of you fucking other men and he doesn’t like that. at all. jealousy prompts him to keep your wrists bound together, the restraints digging into your skin as he drags you back to the shore. he could’ve easily transported both of you to the polar tang, but he wants to teach you a lesson instead. you struggle to keep up with his long strides and curse at him behind his back; although it’s mildly entertaining to him. at the thought of running, you remember his previous threat — that he’d fuck you publicly, in front of your men and his — and behave. somewhat.

your skin flushes at that, your mind wandering as you consider your options; if you let law have his way, you’ll be proving the commodore right. you refuse to let that old bastard have the last word. you don’t realize you’ve made it to the ship until you see your men being held hostage by law’s crew. if you can slip away from law long enough, you might be able to help them escape — and, as if he can sense that very thought, he glances over at you sharply, dark brow raising, almost as if he’s challenging you to do just that.

you doubt you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hate him right now.

“two options,” he says suddenly, voice permeating the air, menacing and matter-of-factly, “i let you go and eliminate your men.” you make a face at that, the frown semi-permanent as you wonder if the second option is any better. “or, i let them go and keep you.” he hadn’t meant to say it like that, and bepo gives him a knowing look that he conveniently ignores. the answer is clear-cut, and, without hesitation, you tell him to let your men go. he smiles at that — every bit as devilish as they say — and while he half-expected your men to bargain, to plead for mercy, they don’t.

it rubs him the wrong way for some reason.

“that eager to get rid of her?” he asks them, and they remain quiet before voicing aloud the opinions they were only brave enough to tell one another. apparently, you rub people the wrong way with your polarizing views, contrary opinions on most political matters; you always need to have the last say, and while you do your best to fight on what you believe is the right side of justice, you only do so on your own terms. the men you chose for this mission never had faith in your plan, and it could be because the commodore manipulated them into double-crossing you.

is it pathetic that you didn’t see it coming? you can’t blame them for bailing, but a bitter taste seeps up your throat as you try to stay focused. law gives them three minutes to get out of his line of sight and they push one another as they scurry away. he’d threatened them earlier too, that he’d kill you if they breathed a word to headquarters. they believed him — he could tell from the way their eyes widened, from how their shoulders tensed, and from how their hands shook. he had no intention of killing you, of course, but they didn’t need to know that.

you watch them retreat and let out a humorless laugh; it’s cut short when law leans in to say, “checkmate, firefly. time to play.”

TEN. TEN. TEN!

aboard the polar tang, law endures endless questions about why you’re still alive, but law insists that he has a plan — he always has one, even though his current one is unraveling slowly. he hadn’t planned on you caving, but he assumes this is a ploy on your part so that he can lower his guard. even though he removed the restraints around your wrists, it doesn’t matter; you know you can’t escape him now. you’ll have to bide your time until you can find an opening.

it's rare for law to venture into his room before nighttime, but he makes an exception to interrogate you — or, that’s what he tells his crew. you know nothing good can come from the two of you being alone together, but you’re currently at his mercy, hoping whatever he has in store won’t be too painful. he leans against the wooden desk in his room, arms folded against his chest as he watches you — eyes hawkish, tracking your movements with precision.

“strip.”

you blink at him repeatedly, even laugh and shake your head. “absolutely not.” you know you’re in no position to try and barter your way out, but you’d like to try anyway. law, however, doesn’t give you the opportunity. he closes his eyes, inhales sharply before repeating himself — the command latches onto your skin, burns you alive once he sets his eyes on you again. you don’t think you can refuse him the second time; not out of fear, but because he’s giving you that same heated look he gave you month ago in the pub.

you tell yourself that it doesn’t matter, that you can follow whatever asinine rules he’s set for this “game” and take your time undressing. it’s that audacity that makes him want you badly, the desire nearly taking hold of every rational thought in his mind as he takes in your hips and thighs. you inhale deeply, do your best to remain in control, but feel your nipples harden under his intense gaze, turning you into some blushing fool.

“get on the bed.” he’s never shared his bed with anyone, so this is all quite new for him, but he doesn’t voice that out loud and instead takes pleasure watching the way you comply without much of a fuss. you move to the center and before you know it, law’s pushed you onto your back, hand gliding down your stomach, fingers hovering over your pussy. if you inhale deeply enough, you’ll be forever consumed by him — and you’re having great difficulty trying to convince yourself to keep on fighting.

this isn’t exactly a part of his plan, but as he’s a quick thinker he’ll improvise on the way. you should have more self-preservation, but law flicks his tongue against your pert nipple before sucking on it selfishly. you let out a startled cry and place your hands over your mouth to keep from making anymore sounds. you refuse to let him have that satisfaction, but the longer he teases your breasts, teeth grazing over your skin, the quicker your anger fizzles out. you know better than to keep indulging, to stop this before it’s too late, but your mind grows hazy once he spreads your legs and instructs you to grab onto the backs of your thighs.

despite not being a connoisseur of the fine arts, law admires the way your slick arousal glides down your slit; he wonders, briefly, if you still taste the same. you’re much too aware of your own breathing, and when law’s mouth hovers over your pussy, you almost lose your mind. “don’t move,” is all he says before running his tongue in between your folds, making your hips buck against him. “what did i just say?” he glances at you, his cock stiff beneath his pants, making it difficult to concentrate. you swallow hard and nod at him, steadying your breath as he slowly crafts a very crude love letter on your pussy with his tongue.

in between strokes of his tongue, he tosses questions your way, fully expecting you to answer as you keep holding onto your legs. in the span of two minutes, he’s already extracted a few deep confessions from you — ones that he pockets for later, to investigate further — but you’re beyond caring at this point. your body burns as you try not to move, chest heaving, teeth biting down on your lip hard. it becomes impossible to pay attention to his words, and your wetness clings to the insides of your thighs as law continues to antagonize you in the best way possible.

you’re not sure how long you last like that, but when you sift through his dark hair with your fingers and tug hard, he pulls back to give you a look before slapping your pussy. the shriek you let out quickly turns into a moan when law pinches your clit. “don’t be a brat,” he warns, voice gruff and husky. your legs shake when he slips two fingers inside of you, tongue circling and swirling around your throbbing clit, as he thrusts his fingers in and out. your stifled moans annoy him, he tells you as much before sucking harder, fingers scissoring as your walls squeeze tight. his erection is partially to blame for why he's acting irrationally, but it’s also very much your fault too.

the last time he had his fingers this deep in your pussy, you had to keep quiet, but now? he’s interested in hearing what other sounds you can make.

“don’t close your mouth, i want to hear you.”

if you weren’t so captivating and alluring, he wouldn’t have any issues; but there he is, slurping on your pussy like the delectable piece of fruit it is. it’s a rush, really, and he doesn’t stop you when you roll your hips again, enjoying the shameless way you buck against his mouth. you’re not sure if it’s the way he holds onto your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin, or if it’s the way he moans against your cunt, that insatiable hunger raw and feral, turning him into a man possessed. you tug on his hair again, harder this time, crying out as your orgasm brings a deep shudder through you. law doesn’t let up, tongue lapping at your wetness, not bothering to wipe it off his chin.

you watch him through your lashes, face growing hot as you watch him take his clothes off too. you’re not sure what comes over you, but you pull him down for a sloppy kiss, tongue brushing against his as he rubs the thick head of his cock in between your folds. he knows that if he doesn’t fuck you soon, he might just die. or, something close to it. the kiss is all tongue and teeth — fervent and sensual. you taste yourself on his mouth and completely forget that things have gone a little too far.

and just when you think you’re close to having the advantage, he bites your lip hard enough to draw blood and flicks his tongue out; it’s a sharp, coppery taste that fuels him to kiss you all over again — a euphoric delirium, deadly and carnal. you drag your nails down the hard planes of his chest, taking your time to commit each dip and curve of his muscles to memory. rather than let vulnerability catch him off guard, he grabs your face and runs his tongue down the length of your throat.

that lust-filled haze guides you onto your knees, ass playfully rubbing against his stiff length; he grabs you roughly, teases your entrance, and inches his cock inside of you before snapping his hips against yours. law burrows his cock into your puffy pussy, your soft, gummy walls clenching as he pulls out and slams into you all over again. your moans bounce around the room, swirling around his head, making him light-headed.

his girth is every bit as imposing as he is, but you take it without much issue, hips rocking against his, fingers grabbing at his bedsheets as you arch your back. law slaps your ass before fucking you harder, watching the way his cock disappears into your pretty pussy with every stroke. you feel another orgasm approach, his thrusts brutal, but delicious, making your toes curl as you shamelessly moan his name. if he was a better man, he’d take his time with you, let you get acclimated to his size, and hand you the reins.

but he’s not; he’s a pirate, after all.

he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you towards him, leaving behind open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck and jaw. his hips stay close to yours, strokes getting faster and rougher, pussy squelching loudly, but you don’t ask him to stop — if anything, you keep chanting more, more, more. he dips a hand in between your thighs and rubs your clit, making your body convulse, voice growing hoarse from how loud you’re being.

when you cum you’re nearly incapacitated, eyes rolling back, cunt fluttering around his thick cock, squirting as his hips knock against yours. a merciless, unrelenting tempo, one that has you melting under his touch. he doesn’t last much longer, his cum thick and hot as it pours into you, dripping down his length as his hips slow down. you can hardly move, legs completely giving out, body like jelly as you plop down onto the bed. he runs a hand down his face and looks at you, a warmth invading his chest, making it hard to breathe properly. to combat that ridiculous feeling, he tells you that he’s far from done with you and that he has no plans on letting you return to the navy. if you had more sense, if you weren’t as obsessed with trafalgar law as he is with you, then you’d find fault with his words.

he tells himself he’s doing this to teach you a lesson, to punish you for all the times you’ve interrupted his journey, but he knows the truth — and, after seeing this side of him, the one where he’s completely tossed aside that mask he wears, you also know too.

#fic request #i finally finished omg #i feel like i say that every time lmao #500+ followers event #milestone event #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭 #one piece smut #one piece angst #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #trafalgar law #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law smut #law angst #law x reader #law x y/n #law continues to remain an absolute menace *washes hands* #i just need u to know this was a labor of love (◍•ᴗ•◍) #‘i can change him’ 🥴 #real clown girl shit on reader’s part but that’s just how it is #ottersdeservelove

[northernmariette]

A quick biographical sketch of Murat

This is my fifth post regarding the Marshals listed in an article about Napoleon’s ability to spot talent. The article is taken from the September 2019 issue of Historia magazine, bearing on its front page’s the title “Napoleon, les secrets d’un chef de guerre”.

After Berthier, Davout, Lannes, and Masséna, Murat is the next Marshal on the alphabetized list of the eight highlighted Marshals:

Murat, the man of the attack

If there ever was a marshal with a sense of panache, it is Murat, perhaps even too much so. On a battlefield, he was the one to draw all eyes. His garish uniforms even earned him some derision from Napoleon. But when on horseback leading a charge, he earned nothing but admiration. During the Prussian campaign in 1806, he vanquished everything in his path. At Eylau, a year later, at the head of more than 10,000 horsemen, he thwarted a vigorous Russian attack. Eight years earlier at the second battle of Aboukir in Egypt, he had captured the enemy leader almost single-handedly, wielding his sparkling oriental sword. Murat was the leading man, the one born for the first attack. A brilliant cavalryman, he was less adept at politics; he committed himself to a failed alliance with Austria in 1813. He was not at Waterloo. He was executed by firing squad at Pizzo in Italy on 13 October 1815, aged 48.

Murat was one of three Marshals whose absence was deeply detrimental at Waterloo; the other two were Davout and Berthier. Berthier, of course, was already dead; but it was Napoleon’s mistake to exclude Murat and Davout. 

I don’t know enough about Murat to comment on his political abilities; were they lesser than those of his siblings? An aspect of his life I am curious about is how he was perceived by his Neapolitan subjects, and how he is perceived in contemporary Italy.

I do question how Napoleon treated Murat, if he wanted more compliance from his brother-in-law: it seems to me that Murat was more responsive to praise than to the kind of upbraiding he so regularly received from the Emperor.

#napoleon #napoleonic history #napoleon's marshals #joachim murat

[harangularspectacular]

Recent Reading

- Once again I have failed to keep a record of my thoughts soon after reading each book, so here I am, almost a year later in some instances, trying to remember how these books have affected me. I am trying something new this time, listing the books in the order that I finished reading them:

Jonathan Franzen - Crossroads

Having grown up within an evangelical Christian environment, this was an uncannily-familiar story world to me. Needless to say, I couldn’t put this book down. I found Franzen’s engagement with ideas surrounding faith really compelling and refreshing, presenting complicated characters within a social milieu that could easily be flattened and made two-dimensional. I was a little miffed by the way the story seemed to sort of end abruptly - but I soon learned that this is the first book in a forthcoming trilogy. Needles to say (again), I look forward to reading Franzen’s next two books, whenever they are published.

Terry Pratchett - Witches Abroad

Read this one in preparation of teaching The Crucible, knowing members of my class would likely have read it as part of their curriculum the year beforehand. It was nice to revisit Pratchett’s work; I hadn’t guffawed aloud reading a book in some time (possibly not since I read The Light Fantastic, when I was sixteen?), but there was joke early on in this one that killed me. Overall, I thought this story was cute, though it is probably not among my top five favourites of the Discworld series. 

Tony Birch - Dark as Last Night

By the end of the first story, as I sat crying on a park bench, I knew that I would be reading all the short stories in this small collection. The compassion that Birch has for his characters is astounding, and deeply affecting.

Emily Brontë - Wuthering Heights

Some of the passages within this book burn on the pages with a searingly white-hot intensity of passion that I didn’t realise was possible (with the exception of some of my favourite moments from Shakespeare). What a book!

Joan Lindsay - Picnic at Hanging Rock

Taught this one for the first time, having never read it before. Three chapters of action and then a dozen-or-so chapters of miasma - the structure of this book is unlikely anything I had read. I particularly love the way that Lindsay implicates us as readers as being just as guilty of trying to impose order and narrative as the ostensible villain of the story, Mrs. Appleyard; mischief and mystery are afoot, though not necessarily in the ways one might expect. 

Elena Ferrante - My Brilliant Friend

Elena Ferrante - The Story of a New Name

Elena Ferrante - Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay

Elena Ferrante - The Story of the Lost Child

I had only planned to read the first book of Ferrante’s Neapolitan saga, but then realised at the conclusion of My Brilliant Friend that it hadn’t really concluded (practically a cliff-hanger!) - and that the four books intended as one long narrative that would otherwise be too largely to physically bind together with paper and glue... so I kept reading, trusting that it pay off eventually. (Spoiler alert: it did!) My feelings towards the four instalments, respectively: very good; kind of slow, lots of time at the beach; can’t really remember, but considering that I kept reading, probably felt that it was cooking with gas; brilliant.

Lesley Chow - You’re History: The Twelve Strangest Women in Music

bell hooks - The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love

Where to begin? I know people read this book, or other works from hooks, and then proselytise about it all the time... I get it! But you would sing, too, if you read this book. It is essential, life-changing reading. There are so many ideas and passages that have stuck with me, although the phrase “the everyday traumatisation of boys” is one that will linger with me for years to come as a haunting reminder of what I and many others have survived, and what I hope we can aspire to recover from - with (you guessed it) the will to change.

bell hooks - When Angles Speak of Love

After hearing the news of her death - unbelievably (or perhaps not, considering her influence and impact on culture) on the same day I was attending a book club meeting to discuss All About Love - I wanted to spend time with more of hooks’ writing.

Mariana Enriquez - The Dangers of Smoking in Bed

A student recommended this one to me - and I was shocked! And I am so grateful to have been shocked - it had been a long time since I had read something so engrossing and terrifying. I particularly loved the story Meat, which is about a charismatic popular music performer and their fans. 

Mariana Enriquez - Things We Lost in the Fire

Somehow, this collection is even more macabre and disturbing than the one above - and I think I liked it even more. These two books have rekindled my interest in reading translated literature from around the world; gratitude, again. I find myself often thinking of the stories The Dirty Kid, The Inn, and No Flesh Over Our Bones, all of which I loved.

Carmen Maria Machado - Her Body and Other Parties

Another collection of Gothic-horror short stories, also recommended to me by a student. Would I have found - or have read - these otherwise, in another version of my life? I don’t know; I am grateful for the ways in which my teaching work facilities new discoveries, thanks to students who are passionate about reading. I particularly loved The Husband Stitch and The Resident - the latter is vaguely reminiscent of The Shining. (Not that I have read The Shining, mind you; King’s work always seems undercut by such a strong current of misogyny that I haven’t known where to start with reading horror fiction previously.)

Angela Chen - Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex

Another where-do-I-start? book. I wish so much that this book had been written - and that I had read it - a decade ago. I found it to be so wise and enlightening; my thinking about my own body has been transformed, as has my thinking about love, relationships, sexuality and sex in general - with the minimum about of hyperbole: this book is a gift.

Kae Tempest - Let Them Eat Chaos

Helen Garner - Stories

I started reading these stories in the bath and could not stop - most of a Saturday went by as I stood in the (eventually) empty bathroom, with the afternoon light streaming through the window, unable to move to put clothes on or go about my day. I particularly treasure My Hard Heart, Civilisation and Its Discontents, and What We Say - I find myself thinking about these stories often.

Jeanette Winterson - The Passion

Lynda Barry - One! Hundred! Demons!

I think Nick Hornby is quoted on the back cover of this book as using the word ‘soulful’ to describe this autobiographical collection of comics by Lynda Barry - and yep, that’s the word that comes to mind for me, too. There is such soulful feeling in these vignettes.

Yoko Ogawa - Revenge

I haven’t read many short story cycles before, although I am becoming increasingly interested in the form. I particularly enjoyed the eponymous story fro this collection, Revenge.

William Shakespeare - The Tempest

Homer - The Odyssey

Claire Louise-Bennett - Checkout 19

Carmen Maria Machado - In the Dream House 

Intan Paramaditha - Apple and Knife

I particularly liked the stories Apple and Knife, The Blind Woman without a Toe and... another one that I have forgotten the title of, and I have since returned this book to the library.

Etgar Keret - Fly Already

I particularly liked the stories Fly Already, Tabula Rasa, and Ladder.

Bora Chung - Cursed Bunny

The first story (The Head) is very memorable, and, for perhaps the first time in my memory, my favourite story from this collection was the longest, a dark fantasy story titled Scar.

Bradley Somer - Extinction

Authors need to be banned from simultaneously writing in the present tense and from the third person perspective — what an ungodly combination! Especially if your protagonist’s name is something mind-numbingly prosaic… Anyway, I thought this was a very flawed but nonetheless interesting book — the first eco-thriller I have experienced. A colleague actually recommended this one as a book that might be worth teaching sometime in the near future.

Yukio Mishima - The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea

You know how sometimes sentences can be really beautiful, but the story is totally fucked up? This is one of those, although the disturbing subject matter is perhaps less disturbing than the pro-facist allegory it seemingly represents; this is a reprehensible little book that I really enjoyed reading.

J. L. Carr - A Month in the Country

Chelsea Watego - Another Day in the Colony

Chris Flynn - Mammoth

Those final lines! (Reminiscent of the ending of his short story 22F - another stunner)

bell hooks - Teaching to Transgress

Julian K. Jarboe - Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel

I loved this short story collection - too many favourites to single any out.

Sam J. Miller - Boys, Beasts & Men

*************************************************************************

I will hopefully keep adding annotations for most of the above over the next few months - I feel overwhelmed thinking about some of them, and am not sure where I would start...

*************************************************************************

I also read selections of short stories from collections - some more than others, mostly privileging the shorter stories where possible - by Kelly Link, Silvina Ocampo, Samanta Schweblin, Julia Armfield, William Faulkner, Grace Paley, Mirandi Riwoe, Chris Flynn, and Anton Chekhov.

*************************************************************************

I have currently started reading, all the same time (a terribly slow, hazardous, and unfocused approach) the following:

Homer - The Iliad

Herman Melville - Moby Dick

James Joyce - Dubliners

Eka Kurniawan - Kitchen Curse

Chinua Achebe & C. L. Innes (Ed.) - African Short Stories: Twenty Short Stories from Across the Continent

Saadat Hasan Manto - Mottled Dawn

Robin Wall Kimmerer - Braiding Sweetgrass

Wellcome Collection (ed.) - This Book is a Plant

#Reading #Books #List #Reading Journal #Recent Reading

[redbeanboi]

How different is Sicilian, Neapolitan and regular Italian? I don’t know much of any dialect so I’m guessing it’s probably the spelling and pronounciation? 🧐

HNNGbdhhs there are so many things..... you are about to unleash the knowledge I have accumulated in the past 22 months for my writing—

Disclaimer: I’m not a native speaker. Just learning! I’m including some notes/charts I’ve made for myself.

All three languages share Latin origins. Standard Italian is readily available to study so I won’t focus on that too much. Neapolitan, on the other hand has Greek, Spanish, and French influences, etc. Sicilian has massive influences of Ancient Greek, Spanish, Arabic, Catalan and French. That being said they are all rather different from one another, not only with pronunciation but grammar too! 

Anyway I could go on and on about the differences for like years. I’ll just point out a few things I’ve noticed and learned as I’ve (sort of) independently studied these languages.

You most likely won’t encounter full-on Sicilian unless you go into the smaller villages or rural areas. Cities generally use Standard Italian at work, etc., though it will definitely be spoken with a Sicilian accent. Same goes for Neapolitan: people won’t really speak it outside of social settings and will not speak it to a tourist/”foreigner.”

Neapolitan 

Word endings are usually cut off (usually a vowel), so you’ll get stuff like omm’ a merd’ (’man of shit,’ if you’ve read BBP Ch. 8) or a phrase like Ssì brutt’ quant’ 'o ddébbit’ (meaning ‘you’re as ugly as debt/you’re ugly’). 

Non-stressed vowels → “uh.” These vowels take on the schwa sound that you see pretty often in English. Capa, or head, is pronounced with this schwa sound, so it sounds less like the “Kah-pah” you’d hear in Standard Italian and more like “Kah-puh.” 

“Gi” → “J.” So giornata becomes jornata, and because j’s sound like “y,” you would pronounce it “Yor-nata.” ( I like to think Don Elio pronounces “Giorno” as “Jorno” instead, just to be extra rude. )

Plural forms are pretty much the same for nouns, regardless of their gender. (’a and ‘o endings → ‘e)

Pronouns are different:

The same goes for conjugations! Very different. I’ll use the present indicative tense for the verb èssere (“to be”)

Some of my favoriteeee Neapolitan phrases/sayings include:

“Stongo chino ‘e suonno” — literally “I’m full of sleep” which I think is cute

“Ttiene ‘a capa ppè spartere ‘e rrecchie“ — literally “he/she [only] has a head to keep his/her ears apart,” i.e. very rude way to call someone stupid. Can be considered a funny way of telling a friend to be careful.

Sicilian

This one’s got a lot of interesting little things I’ve noticed as I’ve (attempted) to learn it.

Same non-stressed vowel rule applies (see above). Stressed “a” will make an “ah” sound and an unstressed “a” will make an “uh” sound.

Sicilian has some consonant sounds that do not occur in Italiano or Napulitano, the most famous example being the double D or “dd.” Generally this occurs when there is a double L in Italiano. One of the many retroflex consonants unique to Siciliano (there’s more in the Phonology section on this page if you’re interested!) 

Example: bello and cavallo → beddu and cavaddu

There are a number of Greek and Arabic influences on specific vocabulary, including: sciàbaca or sciabachèju, (“fishing net”) from sabaka (Arabic). Likewise, the Sicilian word for ram is “crastu,” from the Greek kràstos and cufinu (basket) comes from kophynos. There’s plenty more but if I kept going I wouldn’t be able to stop. Wikipedia actually has an extensive list of Sicilian words by their origin.^^

Again, Pronouns are different from Italiano:

Same goes for conjugations; for the purposes of comparing to both Italiano and Napulitano, I’ll show the conjugations (present tense) for essiri (”to be”):

Some of my favorite Sicilian phrases include:

Chiù nniuri ri mezzannotte nun pò fari — “It can’t get any darker than midnight”

Vidi Palermu e gori, vidi Napuli e poi mori — “See Palermo and enjoy it, see Naples then die” (lol I feel like this is something everyone in the Signora’s family would say before the events of BBP)

That’s really just the tip of the iceberg, but I hope this was helpful!! I’m enjoying every second I spend trying to learn these three, and getting to make a little post about it was very fun lol.

There’s actually more where that came from so please dm if you’re looking to sprinkle this into your VA fics and want a study buddy

#anon #answered #this got long but uhhhhh yeah #thank you for sending this in!! #I like talking about these things :-) #research.notes #lowkey nice to have this all in one place lmao i have not been good at keeping my notes on this together.... #my italian notebook is a mESS #one page is standard italian #then two pages later is neapolitan #and then the next page is sicilian lmao #this is very handy for me and i hope its interesting to read... if youre bored or anything lmao #i might self rb this again tomorrow bcos.... whoA language stuff !! #v neat #lol but in all seriousness you guys seem to really enjoy the little nods i give to these three diff languages in the fic so :-D #hope you enjoyed getting a peek at my notes ! #fic:notes #notes

[xpeachesncream]

how many drinks? | one shot (jjk)

summary: the question is - how many drinks would it take for you to sleep with your bestfriend?

pairing: jjk x reader

genre: (18+) college au, dance group au, bestfriends/bestfriends with some benefits au | fluff, smut, sprinkle of angst

words: ~12.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, kind of crack-y, dancer!jk to fulfill my needs, unprotected sex, sprinkle of dirty talk, fingering, sprinkle of a handjob, slight biting, nails digging into skin, oc almost gets taken advantage of/forced into doing things she doesn’t wanna do, rough handling, song kang is in this too because i’m also a hooch for him but he’s an ass here, alcohol consumption, intoxication, mentions of blunts/smoking, house parties, cuddling, kissing/makeout sessions, straddling, breast/nipple play, hickeys, fucking on the edge of the bed, multiple orgasms, fingering, licking/neck kisses, oral (f. receiving)

note: one shot title is taken from miguel's song ‘how many drinks’ + a couple of things--

both hoseok and jimin’s piece mentioned below are inspired by real-life pieces my old dance mentor has choreographed and taught. this is the inspiration behind hoseok’s couple piece; this is the inspiration for jimin’s piece

i’m a hooch for all three of them in this video

enjoy imagining koo and oc dancing part of their couples piece like this 🥺

"Y/N." You picked up Jungkook's call as you sat at your desk in your dorm room. You had been finishing up your bio homework until the interruption came blaring through on your headphones.

"Yes?"

"Can I nap in your room?"

"The fuck I look like? A hotel?" You snorted.

"Yeah, a 5 star at that with how good you take care of me." He tries to butter you up, causing you to roll your eyes.

"You're lucky I like you."

"Yesssssssss!" You hear him faintly exclaim on the other line. "Be there in a sec."

"You know my doors are always unlocked." Which, it was true. So many of your friends had decided to live off campus that you and your other bestfriend [and beloved suitemate] were probably the only few left on campus. And that meant people were constantly in your room, hanging out or using both of your rooms, [with permission] or the couches in the shared living room space of your suite as a place to nap. College, amirite? Why the fuck would you lose your parking spot to go back to your apartment when you have friends who lived right on campus? You weren't just good for smuggling free food from the cafeteria to your broke ass, struggling off-campus friends.

Sooner or later, you're greeted by a fluffy, black-haired Jungkook, looking like his shit must have air-dried with how wavy and voluminous it was. He swings your door open so aggressively that you jump a bit in your seat, swinging off your headphones like you weren't even expecting him. You watch as he flings himself onto your neatly made bed like he hasn't felt a bed in years.

"Ugh, yes." He moans as he belly flops onto your bed and stays in that position.

"When's your next class, you little baby?"

"In like an hour or so, I don't know." He says sleepily. "Wake me up, please?"

"Sure." You realize it's Wednesday, and he definitely has Ecology lab later at 3:00PM. You figured you'd wake him up by 2:30 just to give him enough time to groggily walk his ass back over to the science building.

You and Jungkook weren't really close before college. It was moreso that you knew of each other since high school because of mutual friends. You'd see him at parties and he'd see you, but it was never more than the casual hi and bye and small talk. Maybe the occasional comments on facebook pages and the likes on pictures on instagram. But foreel, other than that, that's as real as your friendship got for awhile. You didn't mind it though, you were good with your set of friends and he was good with his. A lot of your friends attended the same university as you two and then your groups intertwined even more. 

But, it wasn't until the past couple of months or so where you both unexpectedly got really close - simply just by talking more and being around each other more. You both had similar interests and Jungkook wasn't the most vocal in his group, but with you, he seemed to talk endlessly. He loved comics and he loved raving to you about Marvel and DC superheroes. He loved to draw, and he'd draw you things every now and then - his most recent being you as a scientist superhero saving the world from overgrown malaria-infected mosquito monsters. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you tacked it against your cork board near your desk. Then, small things like that turned to bringing you food or boba, being stuck at the hip where he'd only go to a certain place on campus if you were there; texting each other inside jokes and funny ass tweets all day turned to facetime sleepover calls and then late hangouts eventually turned to actual sleepovers in your bed, where he'd drape his arm around while you both slept but it never escalated into anything more than that in bed. Although he did fucking hate your medium-sized Olaf plushie that took shelter on your bed - he'd always hike it across the room and talk about how annoying he is and how he's always taking his spot. You never understood it, really.

And then soon, it turned to small displays of affection behind closed doors, where Jungkook would hold you close. Hold your hand if you two were in the room watching a show, or movie. Small kisses exchanged. Big kisses exchanged, making out sessions. But, that was literally it. Nothing else. No sex. No pressure. Lots of unspoken feelings, obviously, but you weren't gonna be the one to bring that up. Because you were comfortable, and if anything, you didn't wanna ruin what you guys already had going.

Like, is this a friends with benefits thing? Maybe? Maybe not? It was hard to label it because it's not like you both determined so, it kind of just fell together that way. And there was really no pressure to fuck every single time you got affectionate. It was cute, sweet. And no one really knew it was like that behind doors - possibly your suitemate Kass and her boyfriend, Jimin, but that's only because you shared the dorm suite with her. Jimin was also one of Jungkook's roommates and his really good friend, so whenever they had slept over on the same night, it was pure and utter chaos. But honestly, if Kass and Jimin hadn't been around you two much, they most certainly wouldn't have the idea.

Whatever it was, it was a comfortable closeness that you both experienced and appreciated. However, the both of you were afraid of discussing what this really was, afraid it'll ruin the dynamic. The atmosphere. Having to come to terms of what it might, or might not be. Neither of you can fully admit that you like the other. Although, it got hard. People did lightly tease you two because you both always looked for each other and were stuck by the hip out on campus.

Oh, well. Bottom line is that you liked your relationship where it was at, but it doesn't mean you haven't thought about the what if's. Jungkook was insanely attractive, and it's no lie that girls swarmed him left and right on campus, but he didn't give a shit [either he didn't give a shit or he was dumb as hell?]. Okay, rewind — to be fair, he would have a fling or two, flirt once or twice. He'd tell you so and so was cute and that they've hung out or texted, but that's it. He just wasn't necessarily looking for anything cause he too enjoyed where he was at with everything.

It doesn't take long before Sleeping Beauty is snoring face down on your bed, looking like Patrick Star with the way he's sprawled out. But, you continue to do your work until it was time to wake him. You gently shake him, his puppy eyes looking back at you after being face down all nap.

"Class time."

"No." He groans. "Can't I just stay here with you?"

"No, dude. Get to class." You chuckle. "You already skipped last week."

"Yeah, but this is a new week Y/N."

"Jungkook." You almost say in a scolding manner.

"Fiiiiiiine." He whines as he shoots up and hops off from your bed. "Are you going to our party on Friday?"

"I said I'd think about it right?"

"Yeah, like on Monday. It's Wednesday."

"And I'm still thinking about it." You snort, making him pout.

"Just come for a little bit."

"Why? You know parties aren't my thing and you'll be too drunk anyways. I'll end up wanting to go right the fuck back home as soon as I step outside."

"I'd like to be drunk and have you there. It'll be more fun!" He pouts as he holds your hand and swings it back and forth.

"I mean, to be completely honest, I'll probably end up going because of Kass anyways."

"Because of Kass." He rolls his eyes. "Oooookay. Not because of you, Jungkook, no." He says sarcastically, brows furrowed.

"Ew. You're such a fucking whiner. Leave." You laugh, throwing an empty water bottle at him.

"I'm kidding." He chuckles. "Wanna grab dinner with me after practice?"

"Sure. If you pay." He groans

"Fine. I'll see you later." He puckers up his lips to blow you a kiss, which you automatically reject by giving him a look before turning your attention back to your homework. You were hoping he'd offer to go to In-n-Out because you were craving that #2 with animal fries and a neapolitan shake, plus there was a Target in the same plaza that you wanted to drag him to for new pens and clearance sale shopping. And you wouldn't even warn him about it. He would tag along, no question.

Hoseok stands in front of the mirrors in the studio, pacing back and forth as your dance group learned a couple of 8-counts from this new piece he had been brewing up. Apparently, it was supposed to be a couples piece but he wasn't sure if he was going to keep it that way. He watched to see if this would be better as a group, or if he should stick to his original plans.

Your college dance group was a small group formed by people with pure, genuine interest and love for modern hip hop choreography. Hoseok was the dance lead, with Jimin being the back up lead. The group came together, taught each other pieces, taught workshops for those interested on campus and performed at the various talent shows and productions the school had throughout the year. It was just your group's way of showcasing your talents, something you all purely enjoyed, and it was nice to see the love and support given by the audiences.

"Okay, run that from the top one more time please. We'll take break after, swear." Hoseok chuckles and gives Jimin the cue to start the song back at the starting point. Jungkook makes a funny face at you as he huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath from the last time you went through the counts.

"Ew." You giggle, slightly pushing him aside. Miguel's How Many Drinks begins to blast through the studio speakers, Jungkook doing his best to sing along and match his tone all while focusing on his steps. Once you're done going through the counts, the music continues to play, Jungkook twirling over to you just to sing—

"Cause I ain't leavin' aloneeee, I feel like I could be honest, babe." He spins to your other side. "We both know that we're grown, that's why I wanna knooooow - how many drinks will it take you to leave with meeeeEEeeeE?"

"You can give me all the drinks in the world and I swear I still wouldn't." You snort, making him frown and click his teeth.

"Too bad that's not really how you act when I ask to sleep over, though." Silence as you stick your tongue out at him. Cause, yeah. You really do tell him to sleep over without hesitation. You loved his company, you can’t lie. "Yeah, fraudulent as hell. I never taught you that." He jokes.

"Shut up, Jungkook—"

"Okay!" Hoseok says, clapping his hands. "This'll be a couple piece. I honestly think it'll work better that way, just like I envisioned it. I'll work with the couple to clean this up before the performance, but to whoever isn't casted for this, Jimin still has a piece to teach the rest of you, so don't feel discouraged!" Hoseok chuckles a bit, giving the rest of the group a small smile. "So with that being said - Y/N, Jungkook, I want you two to do this piece."

"Ouuuuuuuu." Jimin teases you from the sidelines, causing you to put up your middle finger.

"We won’t let you down, cap." Jungkook swings his arm around you.

"I'll teach you the rest of the piece next practice so we can start polishing it up and making it clean before the talent show."

"Sounds good with me." You flatly say, even though 100%, you're pretty excited for many reasons. One, you had been wanting to do a solo or couples piece for awhile, and two, your partner was Jungkook. Your best friend, your ride or die, the dude you've spent so much time with and gave your affection to behind closed doors. It made you giddy just thinking about it, even if you'd blatantly lie to his face later on when he'd tease you. And Jungkook felt the same. You missed the way he subtly bit on his bottom lip when you were named his partner, just so he wouldn't smile too big in front of you.

After practice, you egg him on enough to agree to take you to In-N-Out, without hinting at the plan you had drafted out in your head earlier.  The plan that says you're gonna drag his ass to Target afterwards and he had no choice but to come along.

"Y/N, you liar." He groans. "You said you weren't gonna go to Target." He pouts as you follows behind you anyway.

"Kook, I literally just need to get one thing."

"What's the one thing that you couldn't get on your own time?"

"I don't know, I'll have to find out when we get in there." You giggled, causing him to groan again. "Plus, we're here already. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Ah shit, I suppose I can get some bottles for the party."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook, aheh." He mocks your tone and does that really weird and ugly ass laugh that dudes always do when they try to mock girls, however, you ignore it because you've just stepped into Target and bitch, this was Disneyland to you. Heaven. Paradise.

"Hm, what are we drinking on Friday?" He says his text outloud as he follows you around the dollar section where you begin to pick up really unnecessary items that you're probably just gonna store away in or around your desk somewhere.

"Should be holy water because you all need it."

"Mmm, I don't know, I don't think they have that but we can check." He responds ever so seriously, causing you to chuckle.

"How many people are you expecting?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. We said we'd keep it to close friends only. I don't really have any friends, so that's all on them."

"Ah, makes sense as to how the entire class was invited." You fire back sarcastically. "Your upstairs neighbors are really gonna have a blast."

"They're invited too."

"You guys are so dumb." He laughs when you hit him against the chest. After walking a bit, the two of you head towards the alcohol aisle, Jungkook grabbing what his arms will allow him to grab since alcohol is a little cheaper here than other grocery stores. "Isn't there a limit as to how much alcohol you can buy?"

"I don't see anything anywhere." He hauls about 4 big bottles back to the cashiers. "Besides, I'm giving them business compared to Safeway and those other grocery stores."

"Grab the coupon at least, genuis. It could save you some money." You take off the coupons from the three bottles.

He looks down at the coupon attached to the 4th bottle. "Sign up today and get 2% cash back on every bottle you buy." He snorts after reading the coupon outloud. "More like sign up today and get 2% cash back turnt." He looks at you. "This doesn't sound like a coupon, miss. Where's the ‘get 5 dollars off’ bullshit?"

"2% cash back turnt? Really?" You furrow your brows at him and hand the coupons to the cashier. "Here. God, maybe you shouldn't be hosting parties with your roommates."

"Maybe not." He holds his bags, even grabbing onto yours as you both walk out to his car. He turns up the radio, the both of you singing along to the songs coming through. When he pulls up to the lot of Edgehill Village, he parks in someone else's marked spot only because it's technically next to your door and he doesn't anticipate to stay long. But honestly, that never goes as planned. He grabs your bag from the trunk, silently following behind you as you unlock your door to an empty suite - just as you expected. Kass was most likely at Jungkook’s, spending the night with Jimin, and you'd be alone for the night. It didn't matter to you though, the peace and quiet was always nice.

"You sure you're gonna be okay here alone?" You nod.

"Yup. It's kind of nice actually." You lean forward onto your bed since it's raised a little higher than usual with bed risers, and open up your laptop. Jungkook sets your Target bag down and wraps his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your cheek and on your jawline.

"You sure you don't want me to sleep over? Cuddles sound nice."

"It sounds like you want to."

"Only if you want me to." He nuzzles his head against your neck, waiting for your response.

"Kook, please." You chuckle. "If you wanna sleepover, then go ahead."

"Yesssss! I do."

"Well you need to find parking, or else the person that owns that parking spot will be highly upset."

"You got it, captain. Pull up a movie!" He says, dashing out of your room to move his car. He's most likely going to come back in another 5 minutes, being that the only free parking at this time of night is probably on the other end in the gym's lot, or somewhere on the streets [if he got lucky].

And so that 5 minutes sure does go by before Jungkook is breathing heavily when he walks into your room, duffle bag swung over his shoulder with a big, dorky ass smile on his face.

"I'm back!"

"I see." You snort, still going through the movies.

"Hey, let's run through what Hobi taught us first."

"Ugh, I'm so tired though."

"Cooooome on, just once." He pulls you by the hand, his body pressed against yours as his his other arm wraps around your waist. "Please." His puppy dog eyes look down at you, causing you to push him away because fucking hell, that shit makes you weak. Makes the pussy throb just a lil, you know? Christ.

"Only if you watch 10 Things I Hate About You."

"Sure, I don't mind." He pulls up the song on your laptop. The both of you face the mirror in front of you, careful not to hit each other since you had such limited space to fully move around. Running through it once was a full blown lie, being that you both are doing it for almost 5-6 times before you're laughing at how out of breath you already are. You're so out of it and winded by the last time around that you accidentally hit Jungkook in the face, causing him to whine and stumble off to the side.

"Oh shit!" You laugh. "I'm so sorry, Kookie!" You run over to cup his face. "Are you okay? You good?"

"Shit, Y/N. You have a heavy hand." He keeps his hand against his cheek.

"I'm sorry." You lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but Jungkook being Jungkook, he looks to the side to have his lips meet yours instead. He picks you up in one swift motion, your legs wrapped around his torso as he sits you on your bed, your hands still cupping his face. And honestly, you really wanted him. You've always wanted him since this whole thing started. God, he was attractive to you - every little thing about Jungkook was a fucking weakness, but you weren't gonna let up first. Not tonight. The scar on his cheek, his soft, fluffy hair, his toned body, his muscular ass arms, the way he held onto you when you both slept, the way he kissed you.

Lord, he was truly going to be the death of you.

Before the kiss could get any deeper, you smile into it and back away, keeping your gaze on the small, dazed smile Jungkook has on his face.

"Can we watch now?" You ask, subtly biting onto your bottom lip.

"Yeah, good idea."

"Actually, after all that, I need to shower first."

"Can I join?" His eyes light up.

"Sit your ass down. You can go after." You laugh as you hop off the bed, grabbing your pajamas for a quick shower. You literally take 10 minutes, walking back into your room with wet hair and an oversized shirt and shorts underneath. Although you had been completely comfortable with Jungkook, the both of you have never really seen each other fully naked like that. Whenever he slept over, you were both always fully clothed. You've seen him hop out of the shower and come in shirtless, but that's probably about it. You start to brush your teeth as he rummages through his emergency duffle bag full of shit that he holds in the trunk of his car, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes to change into after his shower. You already know his ass is gonna use your shampoo for everything because he loves the smell of it and always talks about how good your hair smells.

While waiting for him, you slip yourself under your covers and pull the laptop closer to you, scrolling through your phone aimlessly to see what's new on instagram. Which, is absolutely nothing, so you let out a dissatisfied sigh.

"Ready!" He comes in, tossing his towel aside and shutting off the lights to crawl into your bed with you.

"You smell just like me." You chuckle.

"It's great, isn't it?"

"Your hair isn't bothering you?" You run your hand through his incredibly wet hair as he shakes his head.

"No, I'll be good."

"Okay." He wraps his arm around you to pull you onto his body, the movie already off to a start. As the movie goes on, you find yourself getting sleep as both of your bodies sink deeper into the sheets, Jungkook still not letting you go. The laptop rests on his belly, while your head is on his chest, his heartbeat the one thing putting you to sleep pretty quickly. He's comfortable, just as you are. He's warm, you're warm. He's content, you're content. You drift off to sleep while he continues to watch, knowing your bodies will be pressed tightly against each other in the morning.

"Kook there's so many fucking people here. The cops are gonna come and shut this down quick." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh well, wasn't my idea." He snorts. "Shot?!" He hands you a shot that you take with ease, feeling like you aren't drunk enough for all this shit and all these people. "Atta girl."

"Yuck, though." You slightly make a sour face as you feel the warmth trickle down your throat and into your stomach.

"Heeeey, whyyyyy do you look so FaMiliaR?" This girl asks Jungkook in a weird, flirty tone, where every other consonant goes up and down. She's obviously really fucking drunk and out of her mind because for one, she definitely goes to the same school as you two, and she has definitely been in class with Jungkook before.

"Oh uh, my name's Justin Bieber. I used to sing from time to time." He says nonchalantly with you furrowing your forehead at him because what kind of response did he just give her?! What did he just tell her? You're so embarrassed that you slowly turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen as you hear him sing One Less Lonely Girl hella out of tune, with the girl completely smitten over his drunk ass.

"Where's Jungkookie?" Kass asks as she sits on Jimin's lap.

"Over there, pretending to be Justin Bieber apparently."

"Oh, nice. You don't come across that often." Jimin says sarcastically. "Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, stay here tonight, with Kookie." Kass wiggles her eyebrows, her cheek resting on top of Jimin's head. "It's not like that's anything new."

"Um, I'd rather much be back in the dorm."

"That cold, lonely place? When you could be here, in such a pretty apartment with such a pretty boy?" You shake your head at her.

"Unbelievable." You mutter. Suddenly, an incredibly tall man walks into the apartment, reaching about 6'1 and almost hitting the ceiling with his tall ass. You've never seen him before, but he walks in with Hoseok and Namjoon and for whatever reason, you can't peel your eyes off of him. "Woah, who's that?"

"Who's what?" Jungkook finally comes to your side after being Justin Bieber for a good minute or so, his eyes following yours. Who was he and why were you looking at him so intensely?

"That's Kang! You've never met him?" Jimin says, doing a slight nod to greet him as he passes by. Kang and his fine self looks up at you, a small smirk creeping up at the corner of his lips as he continues through to the kitchen behind Hoseok and Namjoon. "He's a transfer and on the basketball team."

"He's fiiiiine." You and Kass swoon over him a bit, Jungkook giving you a look.

"He's alriiiight. I've seen better."

"Shut up, no one asked you." You lightly punch him on the side, making him lightly groan while Jimin and Kass laugh. The rest of the party, you suddenly have a goal to find out more about Kang and see what he's about because you and Jungkook weren't official. You both didn't really know what this was, but one thing you knew for sure was that it wasn't anything exclusive. You wouldn't bring it up, so wouldn't Jungkook - so was this really something all that meaningful?

Whatever, you didn't wanna keep going in circles about it.

Jungkook fucking hates it though, and he's honestly really jealous that you're suddenly trying to be all cute and woo the new, tall, handsome [but he's not really that fucking handsome to Jungkook for christ's sake] basketball player. Jungkook almost wants to mock his every move and how suavé he is, almost looking like a try hard with the way he's leaning against the wall and talking to you.

Wait— he's talking to you?! You were literally right next to him 2 seconds ago.

"What the fuck?" He squints, trying to make sure he's actually looking at you.

"You're so full of shit." Jimin laughs.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you just admit that you like her and stop being childish about it?"

"I don't like her. She's just my bestfriend."

"Um, okay?" Jimin snorts. "When you sleep at her place every chance you get and vice versa? When she has a ton of your shirts and hoodies in her own fucking closet? When you always get so affectionate with her in the dorm? Sure, you don't like her."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, you've done it in front of me and Kass before but you both tried playing it off. I don't understand you two."

"Well, I don't like her. She obviously doesn't either with the way she's trying to be all up on him." Jungkook glares at you, his teeth biting the rim of the cup harshly as he brings it to his lips to take a sip.

"Whatever, I'm just saying dude. Probably better to be straight up about it than not."

"Kaaaaaaay." Jungkook responds sarcastically, trying to play off how butthurt he was right now. Cause yeah, he did fucking like you. He was just scared to admit it though because of reasons like this - the fact that you possibly didn't like him back killed him. The fact that you could possibly be using him to feel wanted, needed. It made his stomach turn.

He just really liked you, and god, did he want to be the one in your bed tonight. Whether or not that ended up in sex, whatever. He just wanted to be the one to touch you, be on you.

Meanwhile, Kang was attractive as hell and ouwee, were you feeling him tonight. You were, you really were - except, you could literally feel the holes Jungkook was burning through you from across the room. You'd occasionally glance over due to how distracting it was, Jungkook literally have no shame with eyeing you, almost glaring at you, from across the apartment.

"Is it too forward if I ask for your number already?" Kang licks his lips, his teeth lightly piercing his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

"No." You smirk at him, taking his phone to put your number in.

"We should kick it soon. I'd love to hang out with you and get to know you better."

"Yeah, just let me know when." You blush, until you're suddenly pulled out of your daze by a loud 'ahem,' the loudest throat-clearing you have ever heard in your life. You turn to see Jungkook making his way back over to the shots, knowing damn well he's calling you over. "See you around?" Kang winks before he tips his cup to you and gives you a single nod.

"Sure thing, cutiepie." You bite onto your bottom lip, making your way over to Jungkook at the shot station, instantly pinching his arm.

"What the fuck?"

"Nobody was calling you over." Jungkook smirks.

"Shut the fuck up, yes you were. I know that was you clearing your throat like that."

"I'm sorry, does it bother you?" He blinks cutely, tilting his head to the side. "Besides, why come over here when you're too busy with your man?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Why in the hell would I be jealous, Y/N? Do you." The words sting you, even though part of you still wants to believe that Jungkook may actually like you. All you can do is sigh and brush it off, placing your cup down in front of him as he pours himself another shot. "You sure?"

"Just give me the damn shot." You say, making it your 7th.

And the 7th turns into 8, 8 turns into 9, 9 turns into 10. And at 10, you're pretty fucking drunk even as the party is starting to die down by the time it's close to 2am. All 10 were a good combination of shots and mixed drinks.

10 drinks.

10 drinks is what it took for you to lay in Jungkook's bed at the end of the night, hands tangled in his fluffy hair as your makeout session intensifies by the minute - all due to this sexual tension, frustration, whatever the hell it was brewing between you two after all this time. The both of you are drunk as hell, and it's pretty evident with the way you can still taste the alcohol on his tongue, both sloppily touching up on each other, kisses getting wetter, clothes coming off like there's no tomorrow.

"Wait, are you sure?" Jungkook says, about to unhook your bra.

"Jungkook, god, just fuck me." You plead drunkily, the room spinning around you. He continues to unhook your bra, tossing it across the room where your other clothes lay, peppering kisses along your neck before licking up a stripe to meet your lips again. He hooks his fingers across the band of your panties, tugging them down and letting them get lost within his sheets. You take this as leverage to tug his boxer briefs down, already stroking his hardened member the moment you come into contact with it. The sad thing is that you both are so fucking drunk, you can't even appreciate the fact that you both are naked in front of each other for the first time ever.

You can't even come to terms with the fact that you both are about to fuck each other and cross that boundary completely.

But, hell, what do you care? You were drunk. You got a cute guy's number. You're getting dick at the end of the night.

"Oh shit, Y/N." He moans into your mouth as he feels you stroking him. "Need to feel you." He quickly runs his finger down your fold, slipping in two digits to pump them in and out, quickly prepping you for his dick.

"Hnnng--Kook." You bite onto your bottom lip as your eyes shut close momentarily, your head digging deeper into the pillow the more he tries to stretch you out. "Want you inside of me."

"I got you." He says. You almost whine at the loss of contact until you feel his tip poking at your entrance. He slowly continues to slip himself inside of you, Kook letting out a small groan while your mouth was left open, a soundless moan releasing before you hiss and take in all of him. He fills you up so well, so completely. He was so big that you felt full, bloated, with him being inside of you the way he was.

"Ohhhhhgod." You whimper as he starts to steady his pace, the lewd noises of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy filling his room - god forbid if Jimin or their other roommate Yoongi heard this right now. It would be nothing short of pornographic.

"You're so wet. Is that all for me?" He says, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he begins to aggressively thrust into you.

"Y-yes." You whine.

"Say it again."

"All for you, Kook."

"I fucking thought so." He drunkily responds as one hand grips onto your hips tightly, the other in your hair as he digs his head back into the crook of your neck, his tongue messily licking near your jaw before he nibbles onto your earlobe.

"Hmmmmgggh, Jungkook. Fuck." You moan as you start to work your hips upward into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, causing the pleasure to pool quickly within the pit of your stomach. It causes goosebumps to pierce through the surface of your skin, your hands gripping tighter on his hair. "You're-you're gonna make me cum. Faster." You plead. He does just so, hammering into you, the sound of his hips slamming into yours bouncing off of the walls.

"Ahhh—Y/N." He groans.

"Just like that, just like that, just like that!" You repeat, your clit feeling incredibly stimulated by the way it rubs against his skin while he fucks into you. "Oh shit! Jungkook!" You moan loudly, biting his shoulder as you feel yourself trembling hard in his grip, your orgasm taking over your entire body.

"Shit, shit, shit—Y/N, Shiiiit." He says into your neck, followed by more curses and groans as you feel him coat your walls warmly. He stays inside of you until the both of you come back down to normalcy, your breathing becoming more regulated. He slowly slips himself out, plopping next to you on the bed, but doesn't welcome you into his arms.

The night goes on, the both of you sleeping on your own sides of Jungkook's bed, not really saying a word to each other. Because the both of you, although still pretty drunk, are more aware by the time it's over and it's become so clear how fucked up this got.

You were hurt. Completely hurt. Because you didn't expect Jungkook to just fucking ghost you after that night. You wanted to talk about it, maybe come to the conclusion that you two should just distance yourselves from each other to figure this out, even if it would hurt you a lot to do so.

No.

That morning, Jimin and Kass had to take you back to campus because Jungkook had darted out of his room, nowhere to be seen until later that night. The next week or so, there were no texts, no calls. No visiting your dorm, no asking to sleepover.

Nothing.

Just radio silence, white noise, if you will.

The one thing he could come up with was a stupid response to your text when you finally caved and asked what you did wrong mid-week.

Something along the lines of 'what do you want me to say, Y/N? do you want me to force myself to feel a certain way?'

Followed by a 'i'm sorry, fuck. that came out really wrong' even though you thought it came out perfectly fine. You understood loud and clear.

Even though this wasn't really an exclusive thing, or even a 'thing' if we wanna be straight up, you still couldn't help but feel like Jungkook had just dumped your ass with no explanation and you were still waiting for that explanation to come, whether it would or not. And because of this, you started to see Kang, hangout with him more often. He even took you out on a dinner date and you really enjoyed his company. He seemed genuine, caring, supportive - even if a lot of the basketball boys were the complete opposite. He was different, you liked to think.

And so you stand in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, you and Jungkook awkwardly running through the piece with Hoseok watching, confused as to why all of a sudden the two of you have this weird tension going on. It hasn't entirely ruined the couple piece, but it hasn't brought it together, either. The both of you could barely look at each other, barely get into the movements, the emotions behind the motions. Hoseok had to correct a few things, his 'pah pah pah's' echoing in the room constantly with how many times you and Jungkook had to be set straight for your sloppy steps today.

"Okay, I'm not saying it's bad, cause it's not. But can you both please act like you at least like each other or something? What's going on with you two? You aren't normally like this." Hoseok says, coming down to a crouch in front of the mirrors.

"Nothing, we'll do better. Don't worry." You brush off the entire question with your quick response. Jungkook looks at you, his hands on his hips, lightly frowning at how much you're distancing yourself even though he knows its entirely his fault for running from his feelings and not being honest with you.

"Okay, let's do it from the top." The music starts, you getting into the piece without making any eye contact with Jungkook. Even the steps that cause you to be close and near Jungkook, you look anywhere but his eyes, and your touch is light, trying your hardest not to let any feelings pass through the motion. Hoseok is a little more pleased this time around, but it still doesn't sit right with him, so he lets you two take a break while he heads to the other studio to check on Jimin and the rest of the group.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Jungkook, you don't get to ask me that." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, not sure if he should continue on or not.

"Y/N—"

"Save it, and let's just get this over with, okay? I don't wanna be here just as much as you." Your words cut him deep because dear, you have gotten him completely misunderstood and yet, he still can't speak. He still can't talk about his feelings. He still can't save this even though he wants to, even though he loathes seeing you the way you are with Kang.

"I never said—"

"Kay, ready? Let's run this full out and make it a good one so we can call it for today." Hoseok says, clapping his hands to hype you two up somehow. The music starts and you're finally able to get into the steps. The emotions. And god, it's only because you're so hurt by your own bestfriend. You're hurt that he fucked you so good, and then dipped. You're hurt that he couldn't even face you the day after. You're hurt that after all this time, he made it seem like you still didn't matter enough - at least enough for an explanation, for some kind of reasoning, conversation, behind what just went down between the both of you. Between what has been going down between the both of you.

Besides the stupid ass responses he gave you through text.

You get so into your feelings that you don't even realize you're tearing up by the time the piece is over, and Jungkook catches it even though you face away from him as soon as the music cuts out.

"Nice, okay! That was so much better! Let's pick it up next session, yeah? We'll keep cleaning it up. Thanks guys!" Hoseok says. You immediately head towards the wall, grabbing your things to avoid any confrontation from Jungkook, but he grabs your arm as soon as you slip through the door.

"Y/N, wait. Stop."

"Let me go." You yank your arm from his grip.

"Why are you crying?" He stops in front of you, his hands placed on your arms to prevent you from moving any further.

"I'm not." You blatantly lie while you aggressively wipe away the stragglers coming down.

"Really? Just gonna lie like that?"

"Why do you care? You haven't said shit to me all week." You snap back, and Jungkook is taken aback from the tone in your voice. You remove his hands from your arms, and take one last look at him before shaking your head and walking off.

Next mistake? He doesn't come after you.

This was a waste of fucking time. If he truly cared about you, he wouldn't let you hurt like this.

You let out a deep sigh before clutching onto your things and walking back to your dorm. The walk from the gym/fitness center was damn near on the other end of campus compared to your dorm. It would be a good 10 minute walk if you really took your time. A good 10 minutes to ponder on your thoughts.

Yes, you liked Jungkook. You really liked him. Having sex with him solidified those feelings even more. How could you not have feelings for your bestfriend after all the moments you've shared? Was it your fault for assuming that? Was it your fault for walking through that door when it seemed to be completely open for you?

"Sup." Kang comes out of nowhere, pulling you out of your thoughts. He swings his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to his body.  "Just got out of practice?"

"Sure did." You give him a toothless smile. Yes, he was attractive as hell. He always will be. But, even with the time you spent together, the date he took you on, he still couldn't make you feel the way Jungkook has been able to make you feel.

"How was it?"

"Um, it was alright. Nothing new really, just cleaning up the piece before the show. You're going right?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He smiles down at you. "Listen, I don't know if you've heard, but there's another party tonight."

"A party? It's Wednesday." You snort.

"Yeah, I mean, one of the boys on the Lacrosse team is throwing it at his family house because his parents will be gone. Wanna come? I'll pick you up. We don't have to stay for long." You looked at your watch.

"What time is it at?"

"Like 9ish?" Enough time for you to shower and get a quick dinner in your belly. Why the hell not? You were caught up for the week. You didn't have any pressing assignments that were due asap.

"Sure. I'll come."

"Cool. See you later then?" He says, about to part ways with you. You simply give him a nod before walking deeper into Edgehill village. You hoped you wouldn't regret this tonight, and you really hoped he meant it when he said you two didn't have to stay for long. You drag yourself into your room, seeing Kass' door wide open, revealing her packing up her duffle bag.

"Hey, where are you headed during the middle of the week?"

"My two classes got cancelled for tomorrow so me and Jiminie are heading out for a mini getaway for our anniversary." You cross your arms and smile. "He's just gonna catch up on shit when we get back I guess." She laughs.

"That sounds cute. I hope you have loads of fun this weekend, babe."

"What are you gonna do?" Kass and Jimin were obviously aware of everything happening between you and Jungkook being that they had to be the ones to take you home. They never pressed on it though, knowing you both were still pretty upset about how things were playing out. They figured you two would eventually work it out, but until then, they would just sit back and keep their mouths shut. You two were being completely stubborn, but it wasn't their relationship to fix.

"Well, there's this party Kang wants to take me to tonight."

"The Lacrosse party? Messy." She laughs. "Be careful, but also have fun, yeah? I still don’t know if I trust him.”

"Yeah I know."

"Tell me how it goes!"

"I will." You wave her off as you head into your room and shut the door. You figured you would just grab dinner on campus to avoid spending more money than you should; after all, dinner seemed to be pretty bomb tonight. You didn't mind going alone, sometimes Namjoon would join you, asking for you to bring him a plate of food while he does the hard job of sneaking inside the cafeteria through the back door. He usually waits for you at a free table and ends up staying there to have dinner with you, updating you on how life has been, how school has been. Sometimes Hoseok would join you, too. Either way, you didn't mind if no one joined. It was nice to have dinner by yourself from time to time.

You get there on time to be able to grab some food, eat quietly and head out before the cafeteria gets way too busy for your liking. You slip into the shower and throw on a mini skirt, a crop top and a denim jacket, lightly fluffing your hair in the mirror and adding a dab of lip gloss to your lips before Kang is calling you to tell you he's outside your dorm. He's wearing something similar to your color palette, however, you don't make much out of it since this also wasn't really an exclusive thing and you sure as hell weren't going around telling people you and Kang had a thing going on.

To him, you two might be a thing. You've definitely overheard people talking about you two in passing.

To you though, you two definitely weren't. And it was a big fuck you to Jungkook for that.

The house is packed from end to end already, and you're surprised being that it has barely hit 10 minutes since the party was expected to take off. Kang is having to park down the hill, allowing you to hop onto his back for a quick piggy back ride up until you reach the front of the house. There's people already fucked up out on the lawn [you figured they fucked themselves over during their pre-game session cause that shit really happens from time to time], either laying there drunkily or yacking on a free patch of grass.

Gross.

Messy, indeed.

Some people are posted, smoking blunts and offering it to people who were passing by. You and Kang both pass up on it, the idea of not knowing where it has been not sitting right with you. You both head straight to the bottles, taking shots and downing mixed drinks to chase it with so that you can catch up with majority of the crowd. Kang has his arm around your shoulder throughout the night, keeping you close to him, even when he's getting pretty drunk. You realize he's a little more handsy than usual, a little more touchy than you expected him to be. It doesn't bother you for a minute, until he really tries to hike up your skirt while you sit on his lap. You gently shoo his hand away, playing it off while he nuzzles his head against your neck.

"Let's go upstairs, babe." He says, the pet name sounding incredibly off coming from him. Maybe you were drunk, maybe you really just weren't in the mood. It just didn't sound cute, if that even makes sense?

"Okay." You respond stupidly, not wanting to cause a scene at a lacrosse party. You intertwine your fingers with his as he leads the way up the stairs, eyeing the doors as they come into view. He leans forward towards each door, making sure it's clear before opening it. You assume he finally finds one that he's satisfied with when you catch the small smirk that grows at the corner of his lips when he turns the door knob and brings you inside. He pulls you into a deep, rough kiss, one that doesn't even allow you to breathe and process what the fuck is even going on. You can't get into it for the life of you, no matter how hard you try to back away. "Wait, wait."

"What's wrong, baby? Isn't this what you wanted?" He says, kissing down your neck as he drops his jacket to the floor. He gently pushes you onto the bed, his hands traveling up your skirt as you lay there trying to push him off.

"Wait, stop." He doesn't listen. He continues until his hands are literally hooking onto your panties, his finger swiping down your clothed folds. You try fighting him off, but he's way stronger than you. He continues to be aggressive, forcefully trying to shove your panties down until you muster up all the energy you have to finally push him off of you completely. "Stop!"

"What the fuck? I thought you wanted this?"

"Who the hell said that?"

"Are you serious? The way that you're dressed and the way that you look at me. The way you approached me at your friend's party - isn't it all because of this? Because you wanted me? Why are you backing out now?"

"Jesus, get over yourself." You stand, fixing your skirt back down. He furrows his brows at you before his hand grips your arm tightly, shoving you against the wall.

"The fuck, you can't just leave without giving me anything. I brought you here to this party."

"Let me go! You're fucking sick. No one even told you I wanted this to go down. I don't know who you think you are, but you need to get yourself together and stop assuming every pussy is yours to take." He attempts to pin you, his hand holding up both of your hands against the wall while the other tries to pull up your skirt. Someone accidentally opens the door, distracting him and giving you leverage to shove him off and get the fuck away. You dart down the steps, fixing your skirt as you head outside and away from the house.

Fuck, you're far from campus. And Kass and Jimin aren't around.

God.

You groan and run your hand through your hair as you continue to walk down the hill and into the neighborhood to get as far away as possible from that house and that gross ass dude. He was literally just like the rest of the basketball team. You've heard stories and they weren't nice. Looks like he was trained well already, and that shit was sad. What a waste. A beautiful human being with such a nasty, sick mindset. You hoped other girls hadn't fallen for his shit.

Ugh, it sends shivers down your spine. Bad shivers.

"Hello? Y/N?"

"Kook, can you come pick me up please?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Where are you?"

"I'll drop my location. Please hurry." You say, looking back to make sure your coast was clear. You drop the pin into your text thread with Jungkook and sit on the curb until his arrival. It's getting pretty chilly out, and the denim jacket you're wearing fails to provide you with the warmth you're looking for. Sooner or later, Jungkook is pulling up, damn near hopping out before he can shift the gear into park.

"You okay? What happened?" He says, opening the door for you before rushing over to the driver's seat.

"Nothing, can we just go back to your place?" He nods silently, and doesn't press any further after hearing your tone. He watches from his peripherals how you fiddle with your fingers and constantly reach to pull your skirt down even though he doesn't think there's any other way you could pull it down even more. He watches as he parks the car on the curb in front of his apartment how you simply undo your seatbelt and hop out to walk straight into his apartment. He watches as you welcome yourself into his closet and pick out some clothes for you to change in.

You were hurt, and his blood boils thinking about who could've done this and what they could have possibly done.

I mean, no. He knows who did this, but the question was what exactly did he try?

He hears the shower turn on, then quickly get turned off after a good 5 minutes. You had stepped in for a quick body shower, using Jungkook's bodywash just to rid yourself of feeling gross. Feeling gross from being shoulder to shoulder all night long, people breathing down your neck. Kang touching you inappropriately. You slip into Jungkook's clothes, his scent wrapping around you entirely. When you head back into the room, Jungkook has his headset back on as he faces his computer, logging back onto his game of League of Legends. You silently toss your dirty clothes to the side of his room, making a mental note to grab it tomorrow morning and toss it straight into the laundry.

Straight into a fire, perhaps. But you loved those clothes so much, it was unfortunate it'd have such a horrible memory to go with it.

Jungkook slowly removes his headset again and removes himself from his game before he heads over and sits on the edge of his bed. You simply look at him, pursing your lips tightly together to prevent yourself from crying.

But he can tell.

"What happened Y/N?" The question triggers you, making you cry into your hands as he sits there, dumbfounded and worried at how he can fix this and make you feel better. "Look, you don't have to tell me all the details but please tell me how I can help. At least tell me if I need to beat Kang's ass." He says, pulling you into his arms.

"He tried to fucking take advantage of me." You mumble as you remove your face from your hands.

"He did what?" He manages to ask even though he has a hard time swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He already assumed you had placed him in the same category as Kang even though he never intended to take advantage of you. He really took that night as something special [even drunk], and he never meant to make you feel like you were a used object. Not like Kang.

"He-he," You sniffed. "He tried to force me into having sex with him. He took me upstairs at that lacrosse guy's party or whoever the hell it even was, and he started to aggressively kiss me. And then he tried to force my panties down and touch me there, and—"

"Okay, please don't go on or else I'll literally go over there and tear his ass apart right now. I promise you." He says sternly, his jaw clenching tightly. "God, fuck. I'm so sorry Y/N. I can't apologize on his behalf but fuck, you didn't deserve that." He uses his sweater to wipe your tears.

"I don't even know why I'm crying, this shit isn't even worth it." You groaned. "It's just overwhelming to process, I guess."

"That's okay." He says, letting out a sigh as he brushes his hand through your hair and continues to wipe the stragglers falling from your eyes. "Anything I can get you right now?"

"No, I'm probably just gonna go to bed." He nods. "Thank you for picking me up."

"Of course. You know I'll always be there." He says. You slip yourself into his sheets, watching as he makes his way back to his desk. But fuck, the only thing you needed right now was him. You didn't want this distance anymore, and you just wanted to be comforted in true Jungkook fashion.

"Wait."

"Hm?" He hums as he has a hand placed on the  head of his chair while he turns to you.

"Can you just lay with me?"

"Yeah." He says, shutting off his computer before making his way over to you in the dark. You feel him slip in next to you, his arm snaking around your shoulders so he can pull you close and onto his chest. "Better?"

"Yeah." You say, shutting your eyes as you listen to his heart beat.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"I never meant to take advantage of you, or make you feel like I used you that one night." Silence. "It was dumb of me, but I just— I had trouble coming to terms with my feelings. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same way, but I thought fuck it, at least you would know, right?"

"What are you talking about, Kook?" You ask, close to a whisper.

"I'm saying that I really fucking like you, Y/N. No, that's not right." He curses himself. "I-I uh, I'm in love with you. And I don't know if I messed this up already with the way I acted, god I hope not, but you at least deserve to know that I truly do value you and that you mean alot to me. That night, even though we were pretty plastered, it meant a lot to me. It was more than just sex and I'm sure you felt that too." He waits for your response as his fingers rake through your hair. "Please say something, anything."

"I feel the same way, Jungkook. You're an idiot for running off, but I couldn't even stay mad at you. You just know how to hit my soft spots and I can never say no to it. Can never turn my back on it." He presses a kiss against the top of your head.

"Fuck, I'm really glad to hear that cause I don't know what I would have done besides cry if you rejected me." You playfully hit his chest.

"You're annoying." You jokingly say as you chuckle.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's okay." You look up to press your lips against his before laying back down.

"And Kang better be fucking glad you're pressed against my body right now because I'm still looking to beat his ass."

"He's not even worth it." Is the last thing you say before you find yourself drifting into a deep sleep, in the comfort of Jungkook's arms.

"You two feeling okay? Nervous?" You and Jungkook shake your heads. "Good, you guys got this. You've been looking amazing during practice, the audience will love you two, no doubt. Just remember to show emotions through expressions and hit every beat sharply." Hoseok nods in unison with the both of you.

"Got it, thanks Hobi." You smile at him toothlessly. You and Jungkook patiently waited for your turn backstage, the talent show already off to a wild and fun start. So many students came by to showcase their talents - from beatboxing, open mic, freestyling [like Yoongi did], dancing, singing, you name it. It was always a fun time at the talent show, and it was always nice to see people getting love for the shit they loved to do.

"You're up next." Hoseok says. "I'll be in the front row. Kick ass and have fun!" He says as he rushes off towards the opposite end to head back out to his seat in the theater.

"Ready?" Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take.

"I think so." You playfully respond as the backstage crew is rushing out the previous talent and rushing you two in to take your places on stage. The lights pick up as soon as the music starts, Kang's big ass head already in full view for you. He's definitely not smiling, no, he has a look of pure disgust because he simply couldn't get what he wanted from you.

And boy, who's fault was that? Not yours, no sir. It was his fault for thinking he had it like that.

But anyways, you're feeling the music, you're feeling the piece because you're dancing with your bestfriend and there wasn't this grey area anymore. It was easier to get into the motions, to get into the feeling, especially when things felt right between the two of you.

And God, what else is more attractive than Jeon Jungkook hitting his 8 counts so smoothly, with just enough umph to make it pop but make it pop cleanly.

Yo, please. I beg. Send some help. You could literally melt on stage.

The moments where Jungkook has to be close to you, where he has to touch you - you let him, and you touch him with meaning. You don't stray away this time because you have no reason to. The crowd is cheering, lots of 'ou's' and 'aw's' erupting from various places in the theater.

"Pretty lady." Jungkook whispers in your ear as the move requires his hands to be placed on your hips for a quick moment. You hear him slightly singing along to the song as he parts from you, causing you to blush.

Sooner or later, the couple piece is over and the song is transitioning to Jimin's piece, you and Jungkook rushing off the stage so the next group can take their positions. Jimin wanted to test his limits, creating a piece a little different than his usual taste - Chris Brown's Came to Do begins blaring through the theater speakers. You immediately jump into Jungkook's arms once you both reach backstage, the both of you immensely happy and pumped that you got through the piece without messing up one step or beat. It went so smoothly that Hoseok was standing in the front row, clapping and cheering in typical Hoseok fashion. You intertwine your fingers with his, slipping through the side door to catch Jimin's piece on stage. You and Jungkook are cheering them on, always impressed by the shit your friends can come up with. You both loved dancing, but you couldn't even imagine coming up with your own pieces to teach people.

That night after the show, everyone heads to a nearby restaurant for dinner with everyone. You all take up almost an entire section of the restaurant, splitting two long tables to accommodate the entire group with doubled the waitresses to take your orders. You settle for water, splitting an abnormally huge and filled deep dish pizza with Jimin, Kass and Jungkook. It was a good day, a good night, everyone at the table happily eating and chatting it up over dinner. You turn down any drinks because to be honest, drinks lowkey make you queasy just from the thought of how much you drank at Jungkook's apartment, plus the added bonus of that party Kang took you to. Jungkook declines as well, knowing he has to drive you back safely.

Jimin and Kass head back to the apartment because Yoongi says he's gonna hang out with Joon And Hoseok for a bit, and they warn you and Jungkook that things may get loud so the both of you decide to really stick to the plan of bringing you back to the dorm. Jungkook does his usual routine of dropping you off first before finding parking around campus. You hop in the shower and come out in Jungkook's oversized crewneck that he left in your closet, forgoing the shorts because you certainly thing that at this point, he'd love to see you in his sweater and panties.

And he does. He smiles as he pulls you close, his hands traveling up your sweater, only to find out that you literally don't have shit on besides some cute little boyshorts. He feels himself hardening in his pants quick because he's incredibly attracted to you and everything about you, always has been, always will be.

"You did amazing tonight." He says, gently kissing your forehead.

"You did too, partner." He gives you a slightly shocked look.

"Is that all I am to you? Your dance partner?"

"Yeah, why? Were you expecting more?" You joke as you smile up at him.

"Yeah, I was."

"Oh?" He gently swoops you up into his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he sits you on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs while you continued to hold him around the neck. "Care to tell me what you were expecting?"

"Well, you know, my best friend—" He presses a kiss against your lips, thumbs gently rubbing circles against your hips. "My girlfriend."

"Hm, say that again?" Your fingers are gently playing with the ends of his hair, your lips barely grazing his.

"My girlfriend." He says closed to a whisper, kissing you softly. The kiss deepens quick, Jungkook's tongue lining your bottom lip as his way of asking for permission to take it further. You gladly take it and let him in, your tongues instantly fighting for dominance. Your fingers travel up his hair, tugging ever so slightly just to let him know you want more. That you need more.

And he gets that.

His fingers hook onto the band of your boyshorts, tugging them down and letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor. He breaks the kiss momentarily, his brown, puppy dog eyes looking straight into yours.

"Hey." He says, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hm?"

"I know I said the last time was special, and it was. It is." He corrects himself. "But, I wanna do right by you this time around. So, is it okay if I keep going? Are you comfortable?" He asks properly, since the two of you are both sober and perfectly coherent, aware of your surroundings and the fact that you'll be seeing each other fully naked in a few minutes.

"Yes." You respond. "Yes, I want you to keep going. I want you. This." He simply nods, bringing his lips back onto yours. His hands climb up your sweater and gently gives your breasts a good squeeze, earning a small moan from the both of you. His other hand begins to travel down to your pussy, two long fingers slowly probing your entrance and causing your breathing to hitch.

"You okay?" He asks lowly. You nod, biting onto your bottom lip as you tilt your head back and rest on your hands, no longer able to keep up with the kiss due to all the pleasure starting to pile up deep in your core. Jungkook starts of slow, his head now buried into the crook of your neck as he works his digits upward, tickling at the right spot.

"Ohhhh, Kook." You mewl as his tongue swipes across the surface of your neck, biting gently beneath your jaw. He begins to pick up the pace, the sounds of him finger fucking you filling up the room entirely.

"Fuck, you're so wet baby." He groans into your neck.

"I'm gonna cum." You whine, teeth almost piercing through your bottom lip in between your whimpers.

"Need to taste you." He removes his fingers and sinks down in between your thighs, gripping onto them and pulling you just a teensy bit more off the edge of the bed so he can get a good angle. The sight of his eyes looking up at you in between your legs is to die for, and the sight alone is enough to make you cum. But, you hold on, you ride out for a little longer - feeling Jungkook's tongue swipe in and out of your folds before he's sucking endlessly on your clit.

"Ahhh, fuck, wait, Jungkook!" He slightly smiles while eating you out, signaling that he's not stopping even if you beg him to. "Hnnng—shit!" You moan loudly as you feel yourself toppling over the edge, your body shaking in Jungkook's grip. You twitch every time he continues to suck gently on your sensitive nub, letting you ride out the rest of your high. He comes back up to your lips, the taste of your own cum lingering on it as you kiss him deeply.

"You taste so good." He says, back to twirling your nipples in between his fingers.

"Wanna feel you." You fiddle with his jeans, undoing his belt and sliding the rest down as much as you could. Jungkook gets out of his shirt and tosses it aside before helping get the sweater above your head. His eyes glow at the sight of your bare body in front of him, wanting to do nothing but please you and please you well.

"God, you're so perfect." He places kisses down your collarbone, to the surface of your breasts before quickly swirling his tongue around your perked buds. You moan as you tug down onto his boxer briefs, immediately stroking his hardened member while he tended to you. Jungkook was a fucking beauty himself - his soft hair, his perfectly toned body, his long 'thick in all the right places' dick.

"Please." You plead. "I want you inside of me." You whimper, causing Jungkook's breathing to hitch when you slightly tighten your grip at the base of his shaft. He gently pushes your hand aside to take over, lining himself up at your entrance. He inserts the tip, watching your eyes roll to the back of the head as he slowly sinks into you.

"Mmmmmgod." He moans. "So tight for me, baby. So fucking wet and tight." He repeats, close to a growl. Your moaning begins to pick up, matching the pace of his thrusting. You're still on the edge of the bed, Jungkook keeping you steady by gripping your thighs tightly. He marvels at the sight of your titties bouncing up and down with every thrust, hissing and shutting his eyes momentarily to keep himself grounded and to prevent himself from coming too quickly. Cause god, he can literally blow any second now.

"Jungggggkooook, yessssss!" You moan loudly, whining even at this point with how good he feels fucking into you at such a fast pace. You're feeling slightly sore already from him hammering into you, but nonetheless, it builds more pleasure for you and you want nothing but to reach your high again. "I-I'm coming!" Jungkook moans in unison with you when he feels your walls pulsating against his cock.

"Such a good girl for me." He says, slowing his pace. The creamy sounds of Jungkook's cock slipping inside and out is music to the both of your ears. He finally gains the courage to remove himself, sitting next to your spot on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. You swing a leg over, your hands resting on the nape of his neck while you sink yourself lower onto his length. Your mouth opens to let out a moan, but the best you can do is let out a hiss. It feels too fucking good that you can't even process it thoroughly. Jungkook pushes your lips down onto his by grabbing your neck, his other hand guiding the movement of your hips as you roll into him.

"Mmmggg—Jungkook." You whimper in between kisses. "You feel so fucking good, god. You're gonna make me cum again."

"Yeah, cum for me. Cum all over me. It's yours." He grunts, his hands guiding you to work him faster. Your movements are getting sloppier, and you feel your wetness starting to coat his pelvis. He doesn't give a fuck though, and neither do you. This shit feels too good for you to worry about the mess you're making on him.

"Cum with me please." He moans at the sound of you whispering into his ear.

"Faster, baby." He says, almost making you cry at how awfully close you are to unraveling. You tug onto his hair, your head buried deep into his neck as you try and suck onto the surface, trying to find an outlet, some kind of release, until you let go. You suck harshly as you coat his cock with your cum, leaving a purple mark right at the base of his neck. You continue to ride out your high, rolling your hips sloppily as Jungkook finally lets himself go, his moan bouncing off of your walls as his seed fills you up warmly.

You stay in your position, slowly raising your head to cup his cheeks and kiss him deeply once more.

"Fuck, I love you." He says slightly pulling away.

"I love you too." You giggle.

"Didn't actually need any drinks to do this now, did we?" Jungkook jokes, softly pinching your hip.

"Shut up."

"Damn, you both couldn't even at least try to be quiet?!" Jimin yells from outside the door.

#bts #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kook #jeongguk #bts jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook one shot #bts jeon jungkook one shot #bts jungkook one shot #bts au #bts au fic #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jjk x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook one shot #writing #xpeachesncream

[imaginary-wanderer]

Last year, Martin Eden was released in France. At this time I didn’t know Luca so I only discover French reviews now and the very first one I found, from one of our biggest national (and most serious) media/newspapers, is just some kind of prose about him and his role lol Also a bit weird because it’s an Italian journalist who met Luca for the French media in Bologna... and it’s like a short movie in itself. The beginnning is just so cute!

It’s a bit long so there’ll be a cut. (also sorry if the translation is not perfect...)

Luca Marinelli, the transformist and inhabited actor of Martin Eden, star in Italy

Beginning of autumn, in the center of Bologna. A handsome man comes hurtling on a bicycle. Screwed to the front wheel, a box carries something precious. He has the gestures of a seasoned craftsman, bends down to retrieve the cargo, grasps it with a firm hand: as soon as he’s out from the crate, Mino shakes himself in his master's arms. Luca Marinelli adopted the mutt on the set of Martin Eden, by Pietro Marcello, in Naples. Thanks to this adaptation of Jack London's novel, the 34-year-old actor has gleaned more than a canine: on September 7, the jury of the Venice Film Festival awarded him the prize for male interpretation for his stunning role of a sailor-writer, right under a clown’s nose (Joaquin Phoenix, Joker) and a cosmonaut’s (Brad Pitt, Ad Astra).

Out on the lagoon, the confidence with which he received his reward made the emotion barely visible, tinged with dread, that was his when he took the plunge. "In 2016, I cried at the sight of Bella e Perduta, Pietro's previous film," says Marinelli. The Roman seems to regain his sailor's dizziness: the ring he has in his right ear is trembling feverishly, his sandals dance the tarantella, on the ground. “I started to project an energy towards this director, I wanted to work with him. It turns out that London is, along with Stevenson, one of those adventurous writers that fascinate me… So when, a year and a half later, Pietro called me, I was in heaven. This experience moved me deeply."

A Daring Chameleon

The actor gives himself entirely, a whole year, to the project. Before filming, didn't he meditate in Oakland in front of the statue of the Californian author? “I was on vacation with my family. The sentences written on the monument moved me. This one, for example: "I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them””. Luca Marinelli devours the 300 pages of screenplay. With the same appetite, he swallowed up London’s story, until he no longer knew "where the book ends and the film begins".

By dint of interacting with the strange fauna with which Marcello surrounds himself, he tames the Neapolitan language, its eruptive musicality, its ashy fumaroles. For months, he hardened his body, from weight training sessions to boxing halls. Then suddenly ceases all effort, scribbles in gray his hair, his teeth, his skin: "You had to physically mark the cesura between the two parts of the film, which see Martin rise through literature, then let himself go.” One was shot when the fine weather arrived, the other when the first frost came: Marinelli, like a good chameleon, has tuned himself up with each season.

#luca marinelli #martin eden #pietro marcello #my favorite part is his earring trembling feverishly #and his sandals dancing the tarantella #i mean 😂 #poor nervous and shy boy #also of course they chose the pic with his bubble butt #he worked hard to get this sailor's butt

[terradisirene]

Recently I saw an essay about how Hima’s portrayal of the Italy brothers was racist and xenophobic, in addition to being poor and one dimensional, and I couldn’t agree less.

Link to google docs version

Also although I prefer Romano I honestly think North Italy  is a interesting and well developed character  although that is easy to miss for some. Both of them are developed and shown wonderfully in canon and I continue to be eager to see more. In this essay I will show why I believe their portrayals are well done and how they are accurate to the situation in Italy as well as to it’s history and culture (That being said if you prefer a different interpretation that’s fine, there can be many different narratives)

North Italy does seem at first glance to be more talented, kind, and politically inclined. However this is not the entire story. Likewise Romano seems more rude and undesirable, but this is not everything in canon regarding him. In one strip Romano is noted to have a good deal of potential by Prussia and Germany, showing that he can be hard working and talented if he makes the effort. In the strip where Romano goes to America he also is quite confident in his cooking talents which America is actually impressed by. In another strip America even calls his cooking the best, and Romano himself is in later decades proud of his cooking, showing that yes he is good at things, and yes he is talented.

The problem is is that Romano does not have to motivation often to use his talents and work ethic. There are many reasons for this that Himaruya both states and alludes to. Firstly Himaruya states that being owned by various powers had a negative effect on Romano and that mismanagement by his rulers lead him to seem lazy since their mismanaged ruling rubbed off on him. Basically political control, corruption , and mismanagement stymied south Italy’s growth, which is true depending on the era and time period and  true regarding modern day. Also in one strip after Romano makes an effort to work hard, but all his efforts come to nothing and he eventually grows resigned. I believe this is a reflection of the fact that there is an attitude among some south Italians of resignation towards politicians and things improving for themselves,  such as shown in the song La Citta di Pulcinella (translation). Himaruya also touches on this when he notes the harmful affect the Mafia has on south Italy in his notes and even laments that fact.

Basically Romano has the potential  to be just as good as north Italy but is unable to be because of historical circumstances and due to the harmful effect of corruption. Romano’s rudeness and lack of evident kindness and cynical worldview is also a result of this as he has been at the mercy of the mafia both in real life and in canon. Hima notes his cynicism is due to the harmful effects of the mafia and how they have hurt him . Romano in my opinion has reason to be rude, he has reason to be unkind, he has reason to be cynical, the mafia continues to be a serious  issue and was even worse in the past, and thus his world view has been affected by how he has suffered at their hands. He also has to deal with the fact that he feels he is compared to north Italy, and openly  feels and says he is not good enough or talented enough compared to him. This is based in reality. The north is often seen as better than the south and indeed it is more wealthy, does have better infrastructure, x does have more industry and renown and Romano is clearly sour because of this. Himaruya showing someone reacting negatively towards adverse circumstances i think is not a negative stereotype but just showing the harmful effects of the situation of the south. Romano is not totally unkind either. Despite their conflicts he does care about his brother, he  often  shows  a lot  concern  for  Spain  and worries about him, he is kind to women generally , and has some nations he is friendly with like Japan  Netherlands and Belgium . So in sum hima does not show Romano as unkind, but as a complex being who can be both kind and unkind like many people.

The south is seen as a land of little opportunity, dirty, unclean and full of crime by the north that is true, however sadly that perception has some  perception in reality. For example many southerners leave the south to find work up north and stay there. This even happens to one of the protagonists of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels and it is seen as escaping Naples to make a better life for herself while the other protagonist  stays stuck in Naples, stunted by the lack of opportunity and male oppression that she struggles against all her life. Naples also  sadly has a serious trash  problem as does Rome, there is even a facebook page titled “Rome is disgusting” in Italian showing the trash  problems of Rome. The mafia also   dumps  toxic  waste  around Naples, leading to high rates of sickness and cancer in the population compared to other parts of Italy due to the fact that the toxic waste seeps into the ground water and the plants grown around the area.

Romano feels interior to North Italy and seems so at first glance because that is a reflection of the sad situation of the divide between north and south. However again note I said ‘at first glance’, because while many write off the south at first glance there is a richness and beautify behind that with its rich culture and the beauty of it’s people, as there is with Romano, which I note with his hidden and subtle  kindness in canon .

Romano’s Arabic blood and darker appearance is due the fact that Arabs from north Africa invaded Sicily, ruled there for about two hundred years, and left a lasting cultural legacy behind there. It makes sense he has Arabic blood, as well as the fact that some, though not all, southern Italians do have a darker complexation (some also have red hair, blonde hair, hazel eyes, or blue eyes, due to Norman influence too). However that doesn’t mean they are poc (in Italy persone di colore is used instead) and even though Romano does have some Arabic blood frankly he would not be seen as non white in Italy. I don’t really think it’s right to bring up a poc argument in regards to him given that. In addition to that Italy also has a problem regarding xenophobia and  racism in regards to African immigrants and Romani and many suffer and are marginalized there, something Romano would not experience in that regard. Romano is also noted to have a “Darker” nature, but this is again because of the mafia. He is affected and blighted by them, it’s not a reference to his coloring but to his cynicism and how they have drained him and his people of the prosperity they could have had otherwise. He is also noted to be “dirtier” not in the sense of being messy or unclean but in how his image looks, and the expressions he makes, this is a reference to the south’s rougher and more intense nature. It’s often said that the more  south you go, the more intense and more of the nature of Italy you get and indeed the south of Italy is often said to be a love it or hate it place.

There is also additional canon reasons for Romano’s bitterness and darker personality like how he feels Rome favored north Italy  (There may be historical reasons for this but I am limiting this essay to what is stated openly or alluded to more obviously in canon) and how he seems to feel haunted by his legacy. And as for other nations favoring North Italy over him, some do not like Spain and Belgium, and the the fact that some seem to is also sadly reflective of reality as many people only pay attention to or visit the north of Italy, neglecting or avoiding the south and only looking at the cities of Venice, Florence and Milan and not Palermo, Naples, or Caligari.

While the two brothers did not meet in Rome’s lifetime there is no indication this lasted until the Italian wars during the 1500′s portrayed in the canon strips . In fact during Spain’s rule of south Italy shortly after Romano is shown mentioning he is going to travel to visit his brother so they clearly had met by this point. Due to the nature of canon himaruya jumps across time periods often and so we do not always see everything that occurs within or before a certain time period. Sometimes he returns  later, and sometimes he does not, though he could in the future. As for North Italy’s reactions to his struggles people have different reactions to hard situations, and that is not wrong, not everyone will struggle in the same way. It’s not something that indicates a lack of character but just a personality facet. Not everything has to contribute to development and that doesn’t mean a uninteresting or uncomplex character. Some people are simply affected differently by traumatic events. That being said I find it interesting he seems to hold a deep fear of angering others as well as some fear of abandonment .

We will turn to North Italy again. Yes he is cute, but that is not all his character is. He is far more than that. He is kind , he is intelligent , he is noted to be good at business, he is also fashionable  and knows how to get what he   wants out of people, he also can  be a bit  vulgar sometimes. He also was good at warfare when he was a child, and if one looks into the time period of the strips it seems he lessens in his ability the longer he is under Austria’s domain. He is also good at art, he is good at cooking, and he is  even also not exactly the nicest person .

I have noticed that many people miss this but sometimes he is actually a little sneaky and mean . This is most evident with Romano actually. In one of their first appearances together when Romano asks Italy to complement him Italy outright refuses, backs away, and as a result makes Romano cry more than he had before and he flies off. In another comic Italy goes up to Romano, seems surprised he is working, and Romano is visibly hurt by this, he also seems to even doubt Romano’s ability to even do so, offering to do work for him which Romano is bothered by . Finally Italy has been shown to get outright angry at Romano at times, in one drawing he is yelling at Romano over the Venice independence referendum, saying Romano doesn’t want him around anyways . While North Italy does love his brother he clearly is not the nicest person to him at times which does little to motivate Romano to do much of anything, and sadly North Italy does not treat him as a equal really given how condescending he can sometimes be. He also is a little rude to Japan at times, like when they are in the bath, sort of hinting he thinks Japan has a small dick.  In addition to this he is pretty sneaky and sometimes even flirty in regards to Germany and is able to really get Germany to do whatever he wants, though this is more evident in World Stars  .

As for everyone liking him in the past he and Turkey were antagonistic, with Turkey stating he hated kids as a result of him (And Greece), and Austria was often angry and frustrated with   him. In modern times Belarus has shown aggression to him when he  tried to feel her chest and was visibly angry with good reason to be. The other girls didn’t allow him to do so either, but all had various reactions. From Monaco and Belgium not taking him seriously and gloating over their superior gambling and waffles respectively  to Wy giving him rather done look and telling him to buzz off, to Taiwan being upset and telling him off, Vietnam having none of it and glaring at him, to the most surprising of them all, Ukraine openly flirting with him and giving him a seductive gaze he is a little intimidated by . His relationships are clearly not predictable but are interesting and fun to see and clearly not everyone thinks he is cute or is willing to put up with him especially the girls ironically. Switzerland too shows little tolerance for Italy’s antics, but is willing to spend time him civilly as long as he behaves himself , Russia too has gotten impatient with him at times, and so has Japan. And as for France he’s a interesting case, since at times he can be brotherly towards Italy  but at the same time is also willing to tell him off, like when he actually hit him for asking for the Mona Lisa back. People like Italy, but not everyone does and even those who like him don’t like him all the time.

Frankly I think their characters make perfect sense. Romano’s anger and resentment is rooted in many things. In how people compare him and his brother, on his brother’s lackluster treatment of him, in the oppressions of the mafia, the years of being ruled over by other nations, and by poverty, neglect, and corrupt politics. North Italy for his part is frustrated by Romano and often doesn’t understand him and thinks his brother his weighing him down, though he fails to see how he is also contributing to his brother’s resignation and lack of self worth. He instead tries to work hard and do his best, while sucking up to others and making himself seem charming and pleasing to get what he wants and not make others angry at him. In fact he seems to have a deep and pressing fear of others being angry at him.

In sum I think canon does a good job with both of their characters. It shows them in a humorous nature in accordance with the genre of the strips while still leaving room for character complexity along with historical and cultural references and allusions, as well as reflecting both aspects of the historical and modern situation of north and south Italy depending on what time period the strip is set. Romano is shown to be rude, difficult, sometimes violent, and darker, however these are only traits that come as a result of the abandonment of Rome, the poverty and corruption of his land,  and the malign influence and harm of the mafia affecting him. In addition to this he is also sometimes kind, fun loving, emotional, sensitive,  a hard worker when he tries to be, is shown to be a talented cook, someone with a good deal of potential, and someone who has people who like him like Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, and Japan. On the other hand Italy is shown to yes, be kind and cute, but canon also shows him to be  flirty, sneaky, angry, resentful, intelligent, and even a little rude at times. Many people like him, but not all do, for example Belarus, or many do not like him all the time and show impatience with him like Wy, France, Romano, and Switzerland. The difficulties he has experienced have not affected him in the same way they have Romano but that’s to be expected, for the two did not go though the same things and it’s only normal for people to have different reactions to trauma, some handling it better than others. This does not denote a lack of character complexity or development but just a different kind of person and temperament. I think that this shows that both Italy and Romano are interesting and complex characters and that himaruya in my opinion has done his work and research in trying to develop them and do strips for them. He does not indulge in colorism or xenophobia but merely seeks to show the good and bad of both sides of Italy and the complex reality of the south today and in history which has it’s bad and good points.

As a side note in Valentino strip is unfinished and Germany and Italy never discuss their respective feelings or misunderstandings and Italy is less uncomfortable and more confused and worried that Germany is angry at him.

#hetalia #aph romano #aph south italy #hws romano #hws south italy #(i'll be back soon btw just revamping some blogs)

[new2677867things]

Adam Hochschild Says Books Can Change the World. He Has Proof.

(When you need something great to read, ask a bard.  As The New York Times Book Review found recently, this certainly holds true with regard to Adam Hochschild, the author of wonderful nonfiction works including King Leopold's Ghost: A Story of Greed, Terror, and Heroism in Colonial Africa (1998, 2006), a history of the brutal conquest of the Congo by Belgian King Leopold II, and Bury the Chains: Prophets and Rebels in the Fight to Free an Empire's Slaves (2005) about the antislavery movement in the British Empire.)

Adam Hochschild Says Books Can Change the World. He Has Proof.

The historian, whose new book is the Rose Pastor Stokes biography “Rebel Cinderella,” treasures his first-edition copy of “The Jungle,” by Upton Sinclair: “This one gave us our pure food and drug laws.”

The New York Times Book Review

March 12, 2020

  BOOK REVIEW:  What’s the last great book you read?

HOCHSCHILD:  Joseph Roth’s “The Radetzky March,” for the second time. Such a multilayered portrait of the vast, creaky, fragile Austro-Hungarian Empire on the eve of collapse. All those ethnic and class tensions simmering under the surface while shiny-booted hussars parade through sunlit streets.

BOOK REVIEW:  Are there any classics that you only recently read for the first time?

HOCHSCHILD:  Kafka’s “The Trial.” He fully foresaw Stalin’s show trials 20 years before they happened. Somehow he sensed the potential for such madness in the war-crazed Europe of 1914 and 1915 — and in the life of his tyrannical, guilt-inducing father.

BOOK REVIEW:   What’s your favorite book no one else has heard of?

HOCHSCHILD:  “The Gypsies,” by Jan Yoors. As a 12-year-old boy in Europe in the early 1930s, he ran away with a band of Gypsies, lived with them on and off for 10 years, and, decades later, wrote this luminous memoir.

BOOK REVIEW:   What book should everybody read before the age of 21?

“The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” for its sense of justice as something deeper than the law. Although Huck believes he’ll be doomed to hell for doing so, he still decides to help Jim, Miss Watson’s lawful property, escape from slavery. I tear up when reading that part aloud to my grandchildren.

HOCHSCHILD:  Whom do you consider the best writers (novelists, essayists, biographers, journalists, poets) working today?

Ben Fountain’s novel, “Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk,” dazzled me with its evocation of the madness of the Iraq war, all seen through the prism of the halftime show at a Dallas Cowboys game. I’ll read anything he writes. One of the few nonfiction writers I’d say that about is Katherine Boo.

BOOK REVIEW:  Which books by contemporary historians — both academic and amateur — do you most admire?

HOCHSCHILD:  Two historians in the academy who write splendidly are Jill Lepore and Simon Schama. But since I never went to graduate school, I also appreciate others who practice history without a license. Richard M. Watt, author of an excellent book on the French Army mutinies of World War I, was a construction company executive. The peerless Barbara Tuchman had no advanced degree or university post. And the former book and newspaper editor Claire Tomalin is the finest historical and literary biographer alive.

BOOK REVIEW:   What do you read when you’re working on a book? And what kind of reading do you avoid while writing?

HOCHSCHILD:  Since I mostly write history, I have to wade through a lot of raw material. Currently that includes informers’ reports to the Bureau of Investigation (predecessor of the F.B.I.) during the Red Scare of 1917-20. I also have to read a lot of scholarly monographs. Since the prose of neither undercover agents nor academics has much sparkle or suspense, when I’ve finished work for the day I’m hungry for something that picks me up and carries me along, like one of Ben Macintyre’s real-life World War II or Cold War spy tales.

BOOK REVIEW:   What’s the most interesting thing you learned from a book recently?

HOCHSCHILD:  In the harsh crackdown on dissent kicked off by American entry into World War I, some 75 newspapers and magazines had entire issues banned or were shut down completely. And this sweeping censorship continued for more than two years after the war ended. Imagine which later president would relish just such powers.

BOOK REVIEW:   Which genres do you especially enjoy reading? And which do you avoid?

HOCHSCHILD:  I admire novelists who can build a whole world and keep me in it for several books. My favorites: Paul Scott’s magnificent Raj Quartet on the last days of British India; Pat Barker’s trilogy on World War I; Doris Lessing’s Martha Quest quintet. Elena Ferrante’s four Neapolitan novels may also rank with these; I need to let them sit a little more since finishing them to be sure.

A superb nonfiction trilogy is Patrick Leigh Fermor’s stunning account of walking from Holland to Istanbul in 1933. A zestful 18-year-old’s experience told, thanks in part to his lifelong writing block, with the dazzling style of a far older man. The last volume was still unfinished when he died in his 90s.

BOOK REVIEW:   How do you organize your books?

HOCHSCHILD:  Fiction, nonfiction and then sections for the various subjects I’ve written about. Plus a vast “To Read” set of shelves where some volumes, alas, have sat waiting for decades.

BOOK REVIEW:   What book might people be surprised to find on your shelves?

HOCHSCHILD:  I was an antiwar activist in the 1960s, and have written, in parts of two books, about the brave pacifists of 1914-18. But my shelves hold many volumes of military history, and of Patrick O’Brian’s Napoleonic War maritime novels. And every single volume of stories by John Updike. I have mixed feelings about his novels, but he was our finest writer of short stories since Hemingway. I can easily forgive him for being a Vietnam War hawk.

BOOK REVIEW:   What’s the best book you’ve ever received as a gift?

HOCHSCHILD:  A first edition of Upton Sinclair’s “The Jungle.” Who says books can’t change the world? This one gave us our pure food and drug laws.

BOOK REVIEW:   Who is your favorite fictional hero or heroine? Your favorite antihero or villain?

I’ll let others pick the good folks; I enjoy villains more. Take, for instance, Robert Moses of “The Power Broker,” the devastating biography by Robert Caro. Perhaps you have to be a native New Yorker like me to read all 1,344 pages of this searing demolition job on the man who laced a great city with ugly expressways and had nothing but contempt for people too poor to own a car. But the book is an extraordinary achievement that should shame the hundreds of reporters and editorial writers who naïvely glorified Moses over the decades.

BOOK REVIEW:   What kind of reader were you as a child? Which childhood books and authors stick with you most?

My favorites were the “Freddy the Pig” series of Walter R. Brooks. Heroic detective, pilot, poet, magician and victor over all bullies and humbugs, animal or human, Freddy remains a model to us all. And in his First Animal Republic it was one animal, one vote — a great improvement over our Electoral College.

BOOK REVIEW:   How have your reading tastes changed over time?

Not enough, perhaps. Although I have moved on from Freddy the Pig.

BOOK REVIEW:   What book would you recommend for America’s current political moment?

Trollope’s “The Way We Live Now,” the story of a financial con man who goes into politics.

BOOK REVIEW:   You’re organizing a literary dinner party. Which three writers, dead or alive, do you invite?

HOCHSCHILD:  E.L. Doctorow, a friend and mentor whose encouragement early in my writing life meant more than he could have imagined. George Orwell, to make sense of an era that seems to be following the script of “1984.” And Ryszard Kapuscinski, who specialized in writing about demagogues even before we had a world awash in them.

BOOK REVIEW:   Whom would you want to write your life story?

HOCHSCHILD:  I already wrote much of it in “Half the Way Home: A Memoir of Father and Son.”

= = = = = 

  Check out this episode!

[alexandjacqui]

Graph Paper

Summer afternoons were spent nestled on a foam tri-fold mattress wedged between two towers of white plastic bottles. Undoubtedly, this was the coziest place in the world. I peer around the corner of the left shelf to a familiar scene: ông perched atop a cracked leather stool, intently focused on pixelated poker cards displayed across a washing machine-sized monitor and bà in her white coat, thumbing through the prescriptions she needed to fulfill that day. She caught me staring. I duck back into my nook in an attempt to feign sleep. Too late. She approaches with a knowing smile, motions for me to get up, and swiftly hands me four neatly photocopied sheets of paper. 

I plop down at my makeshift desk with these new worksheets and begin to slowly trace her cursive letters line by line down the page. In a triumphant finish, I drop my pencil from my cramped hand for a momentary reprieve as I preview the next page. An audible groan. It was her handwriting still, but this time numbers were stacked over each other in oppressive columns. Double digit multiplication. After some time, bà walks over, glances at my answers and with quick calculation, starts to mark things wrong. With her pen and a new page, she crafts problems of her own design before photocopying them again. I receive them earnestly. I am determined this time. Maybe one day I’ll match her skill. 

I continue to work diligently until the door chime interrupts. As if signaled to the start of the race, I dart through the “Employees Only” door, just in time as bà greets the customer. Nose smushed against the counter edge, I press up on my toes and peer over the edge. Yes! My time to shine. I rummage around the low shelves until I find it. Orange? No that’s yucky. Maybe brown? No, no, too boring. Oh! Red! She’ll like red! With a step stool this time, I stand tall, stretch my arm across the counter, and unveil the selected prize to its lucky recipient. A girl, maybe only a little younger than me, eagerly accepts the Tootsie Pop. “What do we say?” pleads the mother. “Thank you!” she beams. I look to bà for some kind of approval of a job well done. Wordlessly, she nods. Satisfied, I return to my station, as she continues to explain something to the woman about her fancy vitamins. 

Later that night I am rewarded for my heroic duties with a feast: sugary iced tea, Costco rotisserie chicken, and a small glass of neapolitan ice cream (heavy on the chocolate, light on the everything else). Ông reclines, alternating between sipping beer and shifting a toothpick between his teeth. Bà places another sheet of paper in front of me, this time lined with squares. A game of 6-in-a-row-tic-tac-toe ensues. X’s and O’s decorate the page and I am nearing the end. Black ink spears through six unsuspecting circles. Despite my best efforts, somehow she always wins. Still, she smiles and nods, placing her pen in an isolated spot on the page. And we start again.

[menswearmusings]

Free Product Review—Spier & Mackay Custom Shirt (+Giveaway Announcement)

Spier & Mackay is best known to my readers for their excellent-for-the-price Neapolitan-style jacket cut. But actually, their roots are in custom shirt making. The tailoring, the accessories, the trousers, that all came later. Founder Rikky Khanna (who goes by Rick) asked me if I wanted to give an honest review of their custom shirt program. Intrigued by their multitude of collar styles and what I’d heard was nearly infinite flexibility, I said yes (for my policy on free products and reviews, see my disclaimer page here). With that said, let me dive straight into my thoughts on the shirt and the process.

Pattern is key

I’ve got several online custom shirts from other companies, which I usually make by measuring a shirt I like the fit of and copying the measurements. Over time, I’ve tweaked the measurements here or there to dial it in, and I’ve been happy with the results. But this shirt has changed my perspective a little bit. While none of those shirts fit poorly, something about the cut of this shirt makes it feel like it fits better—using nearly identical measurements. I can only assume it has to do with how the pattern is drafted. I asked Rick about this, and he said that they have a third-generation tailor whose entire career has been in making custom shirts drafting each pattern. He is also apprenticing two younger tailors to take over for him when he retires. Considering the price of these shirts (as low as $80), that’s remarkable.

Collar designs for everyone

While they can make any collar you want based on specifications, their standardized collar designs cover almost all the bases. From point collars to super tall Italian wide spreads, there’s something for everyone (though someone recently did ask in their Styleforum thread for short collars for casual use—a blind spot of mine, since I never wear those). I opted for the large wide Italian spread (“C21” on the website), and then specified a slight increase in front collar band height. It is identical to my favorite dress shirt collar, the Eidos Marcus collar (which is why I chose it of course).

By default, the collars all come with a stiff, fused interlining. Instead of that, I asked about un-fused collar linings. They have four stiffness options: 1) Light (a single layer of un-fused interlining); 2) Unfused lining bonded to a fused lining (which is sewn in; there is no fusing to the shirt fabric); 3) Unfused bonded to a medium fused; 4) Unfused bonded to a stiff fusing. I opted for the second-lightest option and am happy with it. Given that the fabric I chose is a dressy, business-appropriate fabric, it does very well with a tie as well as without a tie, standing up under a jacket. I’m considering doing a super light fused on future shirts (which is how my Eidos dress shirts are made), and will likely also try the lightest unfused option. For sport shirts, such as a washed denim I intend to do at some point, I’ll go completely unlined.

Unlimited possibilities

For customization and even designs, the sky is the limit. For instance, as mentioned above, I requested a small increase in the front collar band height and about doing an un-fused collar lining. But I also talked to Rick about other details like the shirt sleeve attachment angle (a detail Ratio exposed to me as a possibility) or pleated shoulders (a detail found on Neapolitan shirtmakers’ goods, like G. Inglese), and he said it’s all posible. I even asked if I could send him a shirt to just copy all the design details on, and he said this was doable.

I am not a fan of secret menus, so this would be kind of a turn-off for me if I were new to the style game—I wouldn’t know what I don’t know, and would be afraid I wouldn’t think of some critical detail that would take my shirt to the next level. However, the options that Spier does offer by default in their step by step process are enough to make an excellent shirt for most people. And in my opinion, besides a good fit and fabric, most of what makes a shirt special is the collar shape, where they’ve got most bases covered. So, I say if you’re worried about missing out on some secret knowledge, don’t. Just design a shirt with the tools available and you’ll be able to make something special. (I’ve listed exactly what I requested below if you’re interested).

Fast turn-around

The high water mark for quick custom shirt turnaround is Proper Cloth, who has shaved it down to 2-3 weeks. However, I was glad to find out that Spier’s turnaround was only about 4 weeks from the time of my order to delivery.

Some negatives

Not that it’s all roses with the Spier & Mackay online custom shirt program. My biggest gripe is that the fabric selection and descriptions are pretty lame. Their images can sometimes make it hard to know exactly what you’re getting. Maybe I’m just spoiled by Proper Cloth—which has gratuitous fabric images, a full paragraph of copy written about each one, and consistent information like opacity, weave, origin and more—but it feels to me like somewhat of a leap of faith to select a fabric. On top of this, they do not offer the ability to order a swatch (which again, Proper Cloth does). Rick says that’s something they might do in the future, but since their fabrics are all stored overseas in their factory, it is not currently feasible.

I asked Rick what their remake policy is if the shirt fits incorrectly, or you end up hating the fabric. In the event of an issue like that, they will remake the shirt for 50% off, which he feels is fair given the already low prices they’re offering. Compared with Proper Cloth or Ratio, which do free remakes, this makes for a higher barrier to entry for those hesitant to try it out.

As for my shirt in particular, one detail came out wrong: it came to me with the collar cut with curved collar leafs, instead of straight-cut. Some of Spier’s off the rack shirts come cut this way, and other companies do them as well, but I’ve never liked it. I assumed that’s how it was designed, and told Rick I wish I had thought to request it with straight leafs. He told me actually the collar is supposed to have straight leafs, and this was a mistake by the factory. To rectify that, I sent the shirt back, he had a new collar made at their factory in the same fabric, and their in-house tailor attached the new collar to the body of the shirt. It was back to me within two weeks. So, my advice is: if you get a shirt and you don’t like something, definitely ask about it, in case it was an error on their part.

Shop the Outfit: Brown tweed Eidos jacket (similar); Spier & Mackay custom shirt (see details below for fabric and design); Spier & Mackay charcoal flannel trousers (other options from Berg & Berg; SuitSupply; Brooks Brothers; Drake’s).

A couple of things I’d change about the design of my shirt: 1) I’d make it with a one-piece yoke (I didn’t think to ask, and their design tool didn’t offer either. Can someone tell me why the split yoke even exists?). 2) A wider forearm/more pleats at the cuff. They have you measure the bicep and arm hole size, and then you specify the cuff. I copied my favorite shirt for all three measurements, but there are only two darts in the sleeve at the cuff, which means the pattern of the sleeve decreases in width more dramatically than the shirt I measured. It’s a bit tight in the elbow (I’ve never had a shirt blow out the elbow, but this could easily be the first one that will). I’d probably just request they make my shirt with four pleats at the cuff to rectify this.

Overall, however. I’m very pleased with the shirt. I give Spier & Mackay high praise for their superior pattern making, great selection of collar shapes and extreme flexibility in customization. They need a major facelift on their website, and need to make options like collar linings, cuff linings and forearm fit more accessible in the typical step-by-step design process (instead of being special requests in the comments box). But, all in all, I highly recommend giving Spier & Mackay’s custom shirts a try.

My custom shirt specs

Fabric: “BLUE PENCIL STRIPE – TESSITURA MONTI – 2 PLY 160’S”

Collar: C21 “Large Italian Full Spread Collar”, with the following special instructions specified in the comments box:

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[tothewordgarden]

From the greatest sea voyage of all time to mischief in Algiers, this is what I read this month.

1. The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim

Four diverse Edwardian women rent an Italian castle and spend a magical month on the sunny shores of the Mediterranean. This novel is a delightful read that has beautiful and humorous moments in equal measure. Think along the lines of E. M. Forster’s figure of the ‘Englishwoman Abroad’ but written by a female writer. Going South for the English means shedding the trappings of northern society and allowing the passions and vivacity of the South to work upon them and open them to life. The enchanting effect of the South on people of a Northern constitution is a well-known trope but it is interesting to note the warmth which this cliché is dealt with in the hands of a female writer. I highly recommend this to those who’ve enjoyed Forster’s A Room with a View.

2. The Days of Abandonment by Elena Ferrante

Every once in a (long) while, one comes across a novel like Elena Ferrante’s The Days of Abandonment. Its prose delivers such an intensity of raw feeling, that the words seem to burn on the page. This novel is about a 38-year-old woman, Olga, who is abandoned by her husband and left to take care of their children, Gianni and Ilaria, and their dog Otto. Told in the first person, this novel takes you into the darkest depths of Olga’s despair. Ferrante’s female characters are unarguably my favourite in literature — they know they live in a world that is kinder to men than it is for women and they’re haunted by past women and their pain, be they mothers or female figures in their childhood. This book is subtly about a woman living with the shadow of another woman from her childhood, who was also abandoned and had a tragic fate. Ferrante’s writing style is flawless, as always, and some sentences beg to be marked in the margin. One of the best books I’ve read this year so far! If you’ve read and enjoyed the Neapolitan Novels, you’ll also love this one.

3. Hideous Kinky by Esther Freud

I read Hideous Kinky by Esther Freud in a day -- it’s a quick, consumable read. This is a memoir, thinly disguised as a novel, about a mother in search of an adventure, who takes her two daughters to Morocco. The novel is narrated from the point of view of the youngest daughter and it is about living hand to mouth with a single mother in a foreign place. I quite liked its depiction of childhood and the diverse Moroccan people they encounter, with their eccentricities and their kindnesses. The mother is probably the character I liked the least — she can be quite problematic. It’s not a must read, in my opinion, but it’s still a sweet memoir-like novel that recreates the beauty and challenges of childhood.

4. The Lost Daughter by Elena Ferrante

The Neapolitan Quartet is brilliant but Elena Ferrante’s shorter fiction is something else. Imagine the raw emotion, the psychological characterisation, the violence, and the magnetic voice of the narrator of the Neapolitan Novels distilled in under 200 pages, rather than spread across four books. That’s Ferrante’s short fiction. ‘The Lost Daughter’ is a perfect book for those who’d like a ‘beach read’ that is intellectually engaging, a book set in summer on the shores of the Mediterranean that can be read in a day or even a sitting. The narrator, Leda, is a scholar of English in her late forties, who is drawn to a 23-year-old mother and her young daughter playing with a doll at the beach. She is driven to do an explicable thing that takes her to depths of her past and her relationship with her daughters and her mother. Out of all of Ferrante’s characters that I’ve encountered so far, Leda is by far the most enigmatic and the novella at times almost reads like a character-study because Ferrante creates such a psychologically complex woman. I found the ending a bit rushed but I think this is the first Ferrante that really made me want to reread it as soon as I finished it. There is just so much to unpack, so many complex thoughts about being a mother and being a daughter and the bond between the two that deserve to be revisited.

5. The Odyssey by Homer

The Odyssey needs no introduction. This was my first Ancient Greek epic and it was just what I expected. Some parts towards the beginning and the end dragged a bit, but Odysseus’s narration of his travels in the Mediterranean were very quick to get through because they’re such iconic tales and entertaining, too (although the misogyny was irritating). Robert Fagles’s verse  translation, published by Penguin Classics, is a great translation in my opinion, but at some point I’d like to check out Emily Wilson’s new translation too. Overall, I’m glad I finally got around to reading this and it inspired to pick up more epics, which I could read alongside other novels. I’m now particularly interested in reading Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Virgil’s The Aeneid.

6. The Mischief by Assia Djebar

Assia Djebar is an Algerian writer that I don’t hear about often. Her debut novella The Mischief (originally La Soif) was published in 1957, just three years after Françoise Sagan’s Bonjour Tristesse and the influence of Sagan on Djebar’s debut novella is palpable. Coming-of-age, body consciousness, sexuality, passion, and death converge on the Southern Mediterranean seascape in The Mischief just as they do in Bonjour Tristesse, with the added themes of the Paris-Algiers binary and race. Nadia, the narrator, is practically the North African equivalent of Sagan’s Cécile -- a carefree and indolent young woman discovering herself and her sexuality, and creating tragic mischief. Although Djebar drew heavily from Sagan, her debut is still wonderfully executed and distinct enough, plot-wise, to be worth reading in its own right. I was specifically astounded by how unlikeable Nadia is, and yet, how masterful of Djebar to still give her an alluring voice that compels the reader to read more. In fact, I read this in a sitting. I’ll definitely read more of Djebar in the future, although her later  work seems very different.

7. Tangerine by Christine Mangan

Remember that familiar phrase in book reviews that goes along the lines of ‘the setting is almost a character in itself’? Well, Christine Mangan’s Tangerine truly earns it. This novel is set in 1950s Morocco, Tangerine evokes the mysterious  and alluring atmosphere of Tangier. A psychological thriller unfolds in this city’s heat spell: Alice, who was swept away to Tangier by her husband John, one day finds Lucy on her doorstep, a friend of hers she had completely cut ties with. Their past is slowly unfolded through flashbacks and meanwhile, things start taking an ominous turn in Tangier. What I love about this book is that the setting is present in every page; it’s what, I feel, makes this novel so immersive. The chapters alternate between Lucy’s and Alice’s point of view, and the foreignness of Tangier serves to bring out their respective characters. Towards the end (I won’t spoil anything), I was particularly intrigued by how Tangier becomes almost a presence within the characters rather than an exterior space. Since Tangerine, received mixed reviews, I did not have high expectations for this novel, but the setting almost made me completely disregard the predictability of the plot -- although, there were a few good surprises -- and the wordiness of some descriptions of actions -- although the writing style generally flows and is a pleasure to read. Since Mangan provides both the main characters’ perspectives, the reader is always one step ahead of the characters and know what they’re about to face. I guess this puts emphasis on the psychology of the character rather than the unfolding of the plot, which I think works but I can see why some readers demanded more from the plot of a ‘psychological thriller’. The nuance is in characterisation and setting, rather than in plot. I think this was a great debut novel with a gripping opening and a satisfying ending, particularly for someone who is interested in relations between setting and character, rather than plot, although I consumed the plot too!

FAVOURITE BOOKS OF THE MONTH: The Days of Abandonment and The Lost Daughter by Elena Ferrante

Thank you for reading this July wrap-up! By clicking on the titles of the novels I mentioned above, you will be redirected to my Book Depository affiliate link for each novel, enabling you to also read the blurb.

#books #literature #book reviews #read #reader #reading #book lover #bibliophile #bookworm #book stack tag #tangerine #christine mangan #elena ferrante #the lost daughter #the days of abandonment #hideous kinky #esther freud #the enchanted april #elizabeth von arnim #the odyssey #homer #the mischief #assia djebar

[redorblue]

Those who leave and those who stay, by Elena Ferrante

I’ve already talked about the second part of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Novels, but now that I’ve finished reading the third (it’s called Those who leave and those who stay - and isn’t that just a beautiful title) I need to talk about it again because it’s so. Good! I know that it’s a four-parter, and my e-book version is almost 1800 pages combined, so... yeah, it‘s a lot, but I don’t get why it’s not at the top of every list of contemporary feminist fiction. I might be a bit biased because I recognize so many parts of myself in Elena (the protagonist) that it’s downright creepy sometimes, but honestly:

- the main relationship, and the center of the narrative, is a friendship between two women (although friendship doesn’t really describe it appropriately. The bond that Lila and Elena share meanders between co-dependent and emotionally abusive on the one hand and inspiring and even life-saving on the other, so it’s hard to classify. It even questions whether there’s a romantic or sexual component to their relationship a few times.The point is though, it’s complex, realistic and honest, which is more than you can say about the vast majority of fictional friendships, especially between women.)

- there are lots of other friendships, mother-daughter relationships, mentor-student relationships, frenemy dynamics, and also proper, unapologetic rivalries between women, which (again) is not always pretty, but it provides a lot of complexity and insight into the characters without even getting any male characters involved. Because women actually do talk to each other occasionally, you know.

- the story isn’t set in some all-female alternative universe, so there are quite a few male characters, too, and they play a big part in the story, but 1) we look at them exclusively through the eyes of the narrator (Elena), whose opinion on the male characters very much colours her portrayal of them, and 2) the main characters’ relationships with men are analyzed very thoroughly, which makes for some of the most intense passages of the books.

- so far the books had “themes”, issues that Elena and Lila struggled with and that related to their gender (and their age at the time) somehow. The first book’s theme is education, which is barred to Lila but (grudgingly) allowed to Elena, although both of them are very intelligent. The education issue is the root cause for their diverging paths in life later, and in my opinion also for many of the difficulties that they have with each other. It shapes their lives in a million ways and determines which vulnerabilities they have to cope with, what their self-image is like, where they see their place in life, how others (especially men) relate to them, and so on. The second book’s theme is romantic relationships: while Elena enters a few passionless relationships and secretly pines away for her old schoolmate, Lila has to navigate her marriage to an abusive and controlling man, balance dangerous admirers, and keep secret a passionate affair that throws her life violently off course. The second book’s focus also becomes increasingly intersectional, especially for the categories gender, class and ethnicity (i.e. which region of Italy the characters come from, so this is not related to physical appearance), but the way that the categories interact depends on the paths that were already set up in the first part. For Lila, within the limited world of her neighbourhood, class and ethnicity seem to be less of an issue since her marriage to a rich man, which makes gender the focal point of her oppression, but if she was financially independent she obviously wouldn’t have to stay with her abusive husband as long as she does. For Elena, who goes on to university, gender seemingly takes second place to class and ethnicity, both of which make her stick out in a predominantly northern, bourgeois environment, but as the academic success of her former schoolmate Nino demonstrates, being a lower class Neapolitan is less of a handicap if you’re a man. The third book’s theme is motherhood and family, and Ferrante seems to position this group of themes as something that connects not all women, but certainly all mothers. I have no idea what being a mother would feel like, but the vast majority of mothers in the book displays a mixture of giving everything to make sure that their kids will have a good/better life on the one hand, and the feeling of being trapped/held back by their children on the other. For the older generation of mothers, having children was unavoidable, and even for Elena and Lila’s generation, who in this book discover birth control for the first time, societal expectations are still strong, and the way they experience motherhood is shaped in large parts by the way their partners perform fatherhood - regardless of whether they’re educated or not. This is how Lila, who platonically lives with a poor childhood friend, is able to at least hold a (very shitty) job and be politically active, while Elena, who is married to a professor, is stuck at home with her children and household all the time, which smothers her creative abilities. While the second book was all about differences between women of different classes, educational backgrounds and ethnicities, the third seems to be looking for common ground again.

- I honestly don't know much about Italian sociopolitical history, so I can't check, but I think that the books also incorporate a lot of the zeitgeist of the decades that they are set in, especially in the ideological/intellectual movement department. The third book, which mainly takes place on the seventies (I think?), features a lot of ideas of second wave feminism, and the entire series is set against the background of escalating tensions between socialists, communists and fascists. This dual focus on women‘s rights and class struggle adds another level to a story that is already fascinating because of its very well-rounded characters and compelling relationships, and it makes the point time and time again that you can’t think about one axis of oppression as if it were neatly separable from others. It’s also useful to evoke some sympathy for Elena and Lila’s male friends, who can be awfully patriarchal sometimes, but still suffer visibly from their position as poor young men who have to keep themselves afloat with odd jobs here and there, and are expected to provide for assorted family members as well. I think Lila’s brother Rino is a good example of what poverty and patriarchal role models can do to a man: he starts out as a cheerful young boy who fiercely defends his sister’s right to go to school, and is subsequently crushed by the conflict between his own ambitions, the expectations placed upon him, and the opportunities that life actually allows him. In the end, he turns into an embittered man who is indifferent towards his children and regularly beats up his wife simply because she’s the sister of his old business partner. Thankfully, the narrative never tries to make the reader see him as anything but what he is, and it doesn’t excuse his actions, but it does a very good job of tracing the forces that shaped his life and personality, and I think that’s something that everyone deserves. 

most people anyway

#those who leave and those who stay #elena ferrante #the neapolitan novels #2019 #book review #feminism #intersectionality

[huntersc72]

La Cenerentola Rossini

Rossini’s music has an irrepressible quality, bubbling up effortlessly throughout this retelling of the story of Cinderella. The invention is unstoppable, from Cenerentola’s plaintive song about a king who loves a poor girl to the lavish coloratura of her final aria when goodness triumphs and all ends, for some at any rate, happily ever after. Angelina (aka La Cenerentola) is mistreated by her two sisters, Clorinda and Tisbe - as their father, Don Magnifico, looks on in approbation. Alidoro, Prince Ramiro’s advisor, arrives at the house, disguised as a beggar. Rossini: La Cenerentola. Teresa Berganza (Cenerentola), Luigi Alva (Ramiro), Renato Capecchi (Dandini), Paolo Montarsolo (Don Magnifico) London Symphony Orchestra, Scottish Opera Chorus, Claudio Abbado. Rossini's Cinderella is a fairy-tale without a fairy, but no less bewitching for that. In fact the replacement of the winged godmother with the. La Cenerentola Libretto English Translation. Characters: DON RAMIRO, Prince of Salerno (tenor) DANDINI, his waiter (baritone) DON MAGNIFICO, Barone di Montefiascone (bottom) CLORINDA and (soprano) TISBE, his daughters (mezzo-soprano) ANGELINA, under the name of Cinderella, stepdaughter of Don Magnifico (mezzo-soprano). La Cenerentola (Cinderella), Rossini’s nineteenth opera, was composed in a remarkable twenty-four days before premiering in Rome on January 25, 1817. The original story of “Cinderella” had been written by Charles Perrault, a Frenchman who lived in the seventeenth century.

La Cenerentola Rossini Synopsis

Cenerentola Dublin Annovazzi Dalle Molle

La Cenerentola Rossini Metropolitan Opera

Sources:

The famous fairy Tale Cendrillon, ou La petite pentoufle de verrefrom Charles Perrault's Les histoires ou Contes du temps passé(1697).

Nicholas Isouard's opera Cendrillon staged in Paris (1810) ona libretto by Charles-Guillaume Étienne.

Stefano Pavesi's opera Agatina, o La virtù premiata(Milan, 1814), libretto by Francesco Fiorini.

Rossini staged his

La Cenerentola Rossini Synopsis

Barbiere di Siviglia at the Teatro Argentina inRome in the year 1816. The first performance was sabotaged by the devoteesof Paisiello's Barbiere

Cenerentola Dublin Annovazzi Dalle Molle

, but it enjoyed growing success, and afterseveral performances it turned into a triumph. The Teatro Valle, a rivaltheatre in Rome, offered a contract to Rossini for an opera buffa to bestaged the following season: Rossini accepted, then returned to Napleswhere he had his primary engagement with the Teatro San Carlo.

His fulltime contract with Naples allowed Rossini to work for other cities,but he had to arrange these performances on very short time schedules.In December 1816 he went to Rome to write and prepare the new opera.The theatre proposed a libretto by Rossi, on the subject ofFrancesca di Foix (a subject later set to music byDonizetti in 1831), but thecensor vetoed it, a major setback because of the extremely short timeavailable. The theatre manager asked the librettist Jacopo Ferrettito help. Ferretti later wrote a detailed report of the creation of thisnew work (see the complete Italian text):

Two days before Christmas Day of the year 1816 I was invited by thetheatre manager Cartoni and Maestro Rossini for a meeting with theVatican censor. (..) (The existing libretto) could not be modified ina suitable way, so they begged me to find another subject and write anew libretto on the spot. I said «they begged», and so it was,because there were bad feelings between me and Rossini, due to a littlewrong he had previously done me.

(Rossini had refused a libretto by Ferretti the year before,preferring Cesare Sterbini's version of the Barbiere.)Ferretti, however, did not refuse this new opportunity to have a librettoset to music by Rossini: they all went to Cartoni's house 'for tea'and Ferretti began to suggest many subjects.

I proposed some twenty or thirty subjects. But one was too dramatic forthe carnival season, another too tricky, another required an expensivestaging or did not suit the singers (..). Sick of proposals and nearlyprostrate with weariness, I yawned: 'Cinderella'. Rossini, in order toconcentrate, was lying on his bed. He abruptly stood up likeAlighieri's Farinata and said: «Would you have the heart for writingme a 'Cinderella'?» - I replied «And you for setting it to music?», and he asked «when would the draft be ready ?»;and I: «despite my sleepiness, tomorrow morning!»; and Rossini:«good night!»: he wrapped himself in the sheets and fell asleep(..)

Ferretti discussed the financial aspects with a relieved Cartoni, thenwent home and wrote his first draft. Rossini was satisfied with it,but insisted on stripping all magical elements from the plot. Perrault'sfairy tale was the primary source, but it is easy to recognizethe influence of the then-famous Neapolitan opera buffa La Cecchina,ossia La buona figliola, by Piccinni on Goldoni's libretto.Piccinni's work is often cited as a milestone in the development ofopera buffa, and it was a source of inspiration for many other works:the latest of them (before Cenerentola) was Stefano Pavesi'sAgatina, o La virtù premiata (Milan, 1814), on a librettoby Francesco Fiorini. Pavesi's work must have been well-known to Rossini,for it was staged at the Teatro alla Scala in the same season as hisTurco in Italia and Sigismondo.In addition, Nicholas Isouard's opera Cendrillon, staged in Parisin 1810, on a libretto by Charles-Guillaume Étienne, must have beenknown to both Rossini and Ferretti, having been a major success inFrench theaters.

La Cenerentola did suffer some trouble when staged in Frenchtheaters. The substantial differences from Perrault's fairy tale, as wellas the popularity of Isouard's competing version of the same subject,led the French critics to be negatively disposed . Of course thefavourite argument of its opponents was the 'betrayal' of Perrault'sideas. An article in a Paris' paper (Journal des débats,10 June 1822), criticizes the libretto for the substitution of a braceletfor Cinderella's shoe, jesting that the substitution might have beenmade for a prima donna with a beautiful arm and ugly feet.Gertrude Righetti Giorgi, for whom the opera had been written, was notamused, and displayed her stage temper in an open letter to the press:

'You miserable people who soil paper to earn undeserved attention fromyour readers! On Roman stages, it is not permitted to display the same situations that are seen in France. It seemed that decency might be offendedby displaying a slipper, and since it was a musical comedy it was easyto substitute a bracelet. But Sig. Parisian Journalist should not thinkthat I say this to defend my feet: he does not know me, and if he didhe might say that I have more to gain by adopting the original slipperthan by clinging to the bracelet.'(Italian Text)

( Opera Information Page|Composer Page|OperaGlass Main Page)

Panda vpn pro. Characters: DON RAMIRO, Prince of Salerno (tenor) DANDINI, his waiter (baritone) DON MAGNIFICO, Barone di Montefiascone (bottom) CLORINDA and (soprano) TISBE, his daughters (mezzo-soprano) ANGELINA, under the name of Cinderella, stepdaughter of Don Magnifico (mezzo-soprano) ALIDORO, Philosopher, teacher of Don Ramiro (bass) CHOIR Courtiers. Damigelli. Paggi

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ACT ONE Sala earth in the castle of the Baron CLORINDA No, no, no: there is not, there is not Who is to chop so Lightweight shaved. TISBE Yes, yes, yes, it's okay there. Better there, no better here; Stand out more than it does me. CLORINDA, TISBE To this art, to this beauty Slippage each one. CINDERELLA Once there was a king, That he just got bored, Search, search, find again: But the volean marry in three. What does he do? He despises the pomp and beauty. And at the end he chooses for himself Innocence and goodness. There, there, there, there, there, there. CLORINDA, TISBE Cinderella finish it With the usual song. CINDERELLA Near the fire in a canton Go away let me sing. Once there was a king: One time .. CLORINDA And two, and three. A TWO Do you finish it yes or no? If you do not shut up, I will give you. CINDERELLA One time .. A TRE. Who will be? GOLD WINGS A tantin of charity. CLORINDA, TISBE Beggar! Out of here. CINDERELLA Shut up, shut up: pick up This little breakfast. Ah I can not stand up to the passion! What cruel fate! GOLD WINGS Perhaps Heaven is guiding Pria at night will give you. CLORINDA, TISBE Awaken sweet passion Nobody knows more than me. But what I see! still there! Even a bread? even coffee? Take, take: this to you. CINDERELLA Ah! rescue who gives me! GOLD WINGS You stop for pity. CHOIR Or amiable daughters - of Don Magnifico, Ramiro the Prince - or will come At his palace - he will lead you: We will sing - we will dance: Then the beautiful - among the other woman Dearest bride - for him it will be. CLORINDA, TISBE But then the prince? CHOIR Now it will come! CLORINDA, TISBE And the beautiful? CHOIR We will choose! CLORINDA, TISBE Cinderella comes here. My shoes, my baby. Cinderella comes here: My pens, my collie. In the brain I have a forge: I am more beautiful and I triumph. To a smile to a glimpse Don Ramiro has da cascar. CINDERELLA Cinderella comes here, Cinderella goes there, Cinderella goes up, Cinderella goes down .. This is really a scramble! Do you want to make me crepar? Who at the party, who at the solace, And I stay here to blow. GOLD WINGS A forge in the brain It's the crazy hammers: But ready, it's ruin, I want to laugh and squirm. CHOIR Already in the head a forge The women are hammering; The trial is approaching The great point to triumph. MAGNIFICENT My feminine scions, I reject you; I'm ashamed! A magnificent dream of mine You came to baffle me. How are mortified! Worthy daughters of a baron! Via: silence and attention, You are the dream to meditate. I dreamed of the gloomy and the clear A beautiful donkey; A donkey, but solemn. When suddenly, oh what portento! Over a hundred to one hundred shoulders The feathers stuck out, And on high he flew! And at the top of a bell tower With a pause he stopped. They are heard below The bells to indulge .. With the cì, cì, ciù ciù, of bang You made me wake up. But d 'a dream so hampered, Here is the symbol explained. Does the bell ring at a party? Allegrezza at home is this. Those pens? are you: That great flight? Plebs, goodbye. Do you stay the ass? But that donkey is me. Who looks at you sees clearly That the donkey is the parent. Fertilissima marries Both will become; And the grandfather a dozen Of scions will hug. Thirty dolls here, A thousand posterity from there, And my glory will be. CLORINDA Know that soon .. TISBE Prince Ramiro .. CLORINDA What are three days, that in the delicious .. TISBE Near half a mile Venuto is to live .. CLORINDA Choose a bride .. TISBE He sent us to invite .. CLORINDA And between moments .. TISBE It will come to get us .. CLORINDA And the choice The most beautiful will be. MAGNIFICENT Daughters you say! That principon! Although I do not know it .. Will choose! .. he invited you .. bride .. more beautiful! I fall faint. Cinderella early, Bring me my coffee. Viscere mie, Half of my building has already collapsed, And the other is to collapse. Do yourself honor. Let's put a prop. Daughters are in the brain. Speak in semicolon, For heaven's sake: think about dressing up: It is nothing less than begging you. DON RAMIRO Everything is deserted - Friends? No answer - In this Simulated semblance The beautiful ones I will observe - Does not come any? And yet he gave me hope The wise Alidoro, That here wise and charming Worthy of me finding the bride will know. Get married and do not love! Tiranna Law, What in the flower of my days Hard to choose condemns me! Let's see, let's see. CINDERELLA There was once .. ah! it's done. RAMIRO What's this? CINDERELLA What a heartbeat! RAMIRO Maybe a monster is me? CINDERELLA Yes .. no sir. RAMIRO A sweet I do not know that In those eyes he sparkled. CINDERELLA I would like to know why My heart palpitated. RAMIRO I would say them, but I do not dare. CINDERELLA I want to talk and I'm silent. A TWO A grace, a certain enchantment Par that shines on that face. How expensive is that smile! It comes down to the alma and gives hope. RAMIRO I ask the baron of the daughters. Where are they? I do not see them here. CINDERELLA Stan there in the other rooms. Now hopes will come. RAMIRO But of grace, who are you? CINDERELLA Who am I? Eh I do not know. RAMIRO Do not you know? CINDERELLA Almost no. What is a father is not a father .. Then the two sisters .. My mother was a widow .. But it was still mother of those! This father is full of pride .. You're going to see that I'm cheating. Deh! sorry, forgive To my simplicity. RAMIRO It seduces me, falls in love with me That simplicity. MAGNIFICENT, CLORINDA, TISBE Cinderella from me. RAMIRO How many voices, what is it? CINDERELLA To the west, and to the east, A scirocco is a tramontana, I have not a single moment's calm, Everything, everything, it's up to me. I come, I come. Goodbye, sir. Ah! I leave the core, This is not mine anymore. RAMIRO That accent, that semblant It is a human thing. I lose myself in this moment; Already more I can not find myself in me. What innocence! that candor! Ah! the core is in vain. This is not mine anymore. I do not know what to say. As in so rude spoils A face so kind! But Don Magnifico It does not appear yet. I would like to nunziar The arrival of the masked prince. Lucky advice! From a simple squire The heart of the females, Better to let you know I'll know. Meanwhile, Dandini Acting as a prince .. MAGNIFICENT I ask A million of forgives. Say: His Highness the prince? RAMIRO Or now arrives. MAGNIFICENT And when? RAMIRO In three minutes. MAGNIFICENT Three minutes! Daughters ah! Hurry up: be better Go and hurry up. Excuse me: with these Blessed girls A century is needed for toilets. RAMIRO What a fool! And Alidoro my teacher Sostien that in these walls It is the purest goodness. Enough, enough, vedrem. To his daughters Convien that you approach me .. What a fragor! .. I am not deceiving, here is Dandini. CHOIR Choose the bride, hurry up: Sen flies the age: Your sublime line If not, it will be extinguished. DANDINI Like a bee on April days It goes flying light and playful, He runs to the lily, then jumps to the rose Sweet a flower to look for itself: Among the beautiful m 'around and get away. I have already seen many and then many; But I can not find a judgment, a semblant, An exquisite morsel for me. CLORINDA Prence .. TISBE Sire .. CLORINDA, TISBE But how many favors! MAGNIFICENT What a flood, what an abyss of honors! DANDINI Nothing, nothing. Vezzosa! pretty! Am I right? All are daddy. RAMIRO Beast! careful, move away, go there. DANDINI For pity those lowered eyelashes, Galoppando sen va reason, And between the blows of a double cannon The breccia diggià is wide open. But at the end of our comedy What a tragedy - here it will be born. CLORINDA, TISBE He looks at me, sighs - deliriously, There is no doubt it is my slave diggià. RAMIRO Ah! because it does not come here With that air of grace and goodness! MAGNIFICENT It is already cooked, - overcooked, dried. For pride that he does not know. DANDINI Mostly, what a beautiful picture! What a mouthpiece, what eyelashes! You are the eighth and ninth wonder. Already tales patris, talem filias. CLORINDA Thank you. MAGNIFICENT Height of heights, That says? it confuses me: weaknesses. DANDINI True Etruscan figures. Am I right? RAMIRO You start telling her big. DANDINI I act great, and great being Big I have to shoot. MAGNIFICENT Nice prince! That you do not flee: watch out! DANDINI Now therefore, following that speech, That I did not start, From my long journeys, I have been repeating, And my dad found, Which among the quondam is tumbled, And expiring ordered, That in view of what change I am married, Or I am disinherited; Done I have an invitation to the whole neighborhood, And finding a delicate bite. For me, I designed it: I said, I said, and now I take a breath. MAGNIFICENT What a sublime eloquence! CINDERELLA Oh what a beautiful dress! And that other looks at me. RAMIRO Here it is. How the heart palpitates! DANDINI Beautiful girls, If you deign yourself to roll up your arm To our knights, wood is ready. CLORINDA Let us go. TISBE Dad, Excellence, Do not delay to come. MAGNIFICENT What are you doing here? The hair and the stick. CINDERELLA Eh! Mr. Yes. DANDINI Persue soon With respectful feet My magnificent royal quarters. MAGNIFICENT Mounted in a carriage and I come. RAMIRO And yet she I'll see you again. MAGNIFICENT But leave me. RAMIRO The scolding? CINDERELLA Feel. MAGNIFICENT Time flies. RAMIRO What will he want? MAGNIFICENT Do you want to leave me? CINDERELLA A word. Lord, one word; In that prince's house, One hour, one hour, Bring me to dance. MAGNIFICENT Hee! hee! the beautiful Venus! Vezzosa, pomposetta! Sguaiata, hatching - ash! Leave me, let me go. DANDINI What's this; here is the statue! RAMIRO Silence and we observe. DANDINI But let's go or do not we go? RAMIRO I feel torn. CINDERELLA But half an hour, a quarter. MAGNIFICENT But leave me, or crush you. RAMIRO Stop. MAGNIFICENT Serenissima! But go boldly! Servaccia ìgnorantissima! RAMIRO, DANDINI Servant? CINDERELLA That is .. MAGNIFICENT Vile. A very low extraction; He wants to do enough, The dear, the attractive, And it's not good for nothing. Go to the room, go to the room The dust to sweep. DANDINI My dear Don Magnifico, Do not overdo it. RAMIRO Now my anger I can not stop anymore. CINDERELLA Gentlemen, persuade him, Bring me to dance. Ah! always among the ashes I will always have to stay. GOLD WINGS Here in my code Of the spinsters, With Don Magnifico Stan three sisters. Now that the prince goes The bride to choose The third daughter I ask you. MAGNIFICENT What a third daughter Are you fucking me? GOLD WINGS Third sister. MAGNIFICENT She - died. GOLD WINGS And yet in the code It is not so. CINDERELLA Ah! of me speak: No, he did not die. MAGNIFICENT Be quiet there. Look here! If you breathed, They get you here. ALIDORO, CENERENTOLA, MAGNIFICENT Did she die? MAGNIFICENT Height yes. ALIDORO, CENERENTOLA, MAGNIFICENT, RAMIRO, ALIDORO In the ecstatic face Of this and that The vortex is read Of their brain. Which sways and doubts And it is uncertain. MAGNIFICENT If you are more murmuring Just a syllable, A cemetery Here it will be done. CINDERELLA Deh! assist me, Deh! do not leave me .. Ah! of me miserable What will never be. RAMIRO Come, console yourself, Mr., leave it. Already my fury Growing up. GOLD WINGS Via less noise: Shut up, Or some scandal Here it will be born. DANDINI I am a prince, Or am I a cabbage? I send you to the devil: Come here.

La Cenerentola Rossini Metropolitan Opera

SECOND ACT Cabinet in the Palace of Don Ramiro GOLD WINGS Look. Silence. Clothes, gioje You will have everything from me. Fasto, richezze Do not bother your heart. Dama you will be; You will not have to find out. Love only everything will teach you. CINDERELLA But this is history; Or a comedy? GOLD WINGS My daughter, Joy and sorrow Son comedy and tragedy, And the world is scene. Pure preserves your candor May the gentle heaven granted to you; In this case, it will be turbar The pure lily of your faith. The inestimable beauty, and the goodness Riches, amor, gioje, piacer, They are nothing but larvae, dreams of the heart. You are driving each Simplicity constancy and honor And your life will be like a flower. CINDERELLA Which grows expands soave odor. GOLD WINGS It will be what a growing flower Expands soave odor, Or daughter! Or daughter! Hall in the palace of Don Ramiro RAMIRO Shut up, shut up: slowly Without noise and noise. Which is the mood of both? Accuracy, and truth. DANDINI Under the heading, by thunder, In absolute confidence, They are a mixture of insolence, Of caprice and vanity. RAMIRO And Alidoro told me, What the baron's daughter .. DANDINI Eh! the teacher has a great head, Equal goose is not given. I know two real weather vanes .. But convien dissimular. RAMIRO If the spouses, even those who want, We continue to recite. CLORINDA Principino where are you? TISBE Principino where are you? CLORINDA, TISBE Ah! why are you abandoning me? You will make me despair. CLORINDA I want you .. TISBE I want you .. DANDINI But we do not give in bagatelle, To be married to two sisters All together we can not. A groom .. CLORINDA, TISBE And the other? DANDINI And the other I'll give it to your friend. CLORINDA, TISBE No no no, no no no, no; A squire! oibò oibò. RAMIRO Sister docile, loving, Tenderissimo of core. CLORINDA, TISBE A squire! no sir, A squire! This no. CLORINDA With a plebeian soul! TISBE With a cheap air! CLORINDA, TISBE It hurts, it hurts me Only to imagine. DANDINI, RAMIRO The scene is original: Really to be counted. CHOIR Ah! if veiled again From the bosom the heart has been taken from us, If you reveal that voice - What will be? CINDERELLA I despise those who pour Capricious luck, M 'offer, who I marry, Respect, love, goodness. CLORINDA, TISBE We will see the great miracle Of this rarity. ALL Ah! FOUR AND CHORUS Talking - thinking - I would like to. Talking - thinking - I do not know. This is a deception oh Gods! This is a charm oh Gods! That face landed me. GOLD WINGS Talking - thinking - would like, Talking - thinking - can not. Amar already should, The shot was not wrong. Ballet MAGNIFICENT Mr. .. Height on the table .. What .. co .. who .. yes, what a beast! When you say the likes! Does not it look like Cinderella? CLORINDA, TISBE It still seemed to us, But to look at it then .. Ours is clumsy and abstract: This is a little more well done; But then it is not a Venus To be scare. MAGNIFICENT It's the one in the ash, He has rags for clothes only. CENERENTOLA, ALIDORO The old man looks, and doubts. RAMIRO He looks at me, and it seems like you are beating. DANDINI But we will not do the statues, The individual suffers. Let's go early to the table, Then we will dance the Taice, And so the beautiful .. With me, he has to marry. ALL Come on, let's go to the table, You fly to jubilar. DANDINI Or that a good lunch happens For four I will eat. ALL It seems to me to be dreaming Between gardens and among groves. The streams whispering, Warbling the augelletti, In a sea of ??delights They make the soul swim. But I fear, that under the ground, Slowly, little by little, A certain focus develops, And suddenly unknown to everyone, Leaving an earthquake out Which collapsing - rattling, Smashing - disrupting, Then I wake up. And I'm afraid that my dream Go to smoke to disappear.

ACT THIRD Hall as in the first Act RAMIRO Ah! this beautiful unknown With that resemblance to the unhappy That struck me this morning, He is awakening in my chest Certain unknown concern .. Even Dandini He seems in love with it: Here they are: to hear them here I will be able to hide. DANDINI But do not flee for bacchus! four times You made me measure the gallery. CINDERELLA Either you change language, or I go away. DANDINI What? the talking of love Is it maybe a jab? CINDERELLA But yes, I'm in love with another! DANDINI And you tell me in the face? CINDERELLA Ah! my Lord, Deh! do not go angry If I speak sincerely. DANDINI And do you love? CINDERELLA Sorry .. DANDINI And do you love? CINDERELLA His squire. RAMIRO Oh joy! my soul! GOLD WINGS It goes wonderfully! RAMIRO But the degree and the richness Does not seduce your core? CINDERELLA My splendor is virtue, wealth is love. RAMIRO So you would be mine? CINDERELLA Plan, you must first Search for me, meet me, see me, Look at my luck. RAMIRO I support you, Dear, I'll fly. CINDERELLA Stop: do not follow me. I tel command. RAMIRO And how dunqne? CINDERELLA Here, Look for me, and on my right The companion will see; And then .. if you do not mind .. then you'll have me. RAMIRO Dandini, what do you think? DANDINI Eh! I say that as a prince I went on to act as a witness. RAMIRO »And then .. if I do not mind you .. then you'll have it.« What mysteries are these? ah! my wise man Venerable teacher. My heart is obscured Never tried love. What to do? GOLD WINGS What the heart recommends. RAMIRO Prince you are no longer, of so many silly ones You empty my building. Olà, my trusts! So I could have the wings of the winds. Ah how to hide The voracious flame, If in the chest this alma Smarita à la pace If love makes me a victim Of a raw duty. DANDINI So, then, am I a former? from all to nothing Rushed suddenly? Actually I did it A beautiful figure. MAGNIFICENT Excuse my concern. But those two girls Stan with fever on him. It could Solve the choice. DANDINI It's done, man. MAGNIFICENT It's done! Ah, pity, say, talk! It's done! and my shoots .. In these vegetarian rooms will they come? DANDINI Everyone will then know: Now it's a great secret. MAGNIFICENT And which, and which? And Clorinda, or Tisbetta? DANDINI Do not be in such a hurry. MAGNIFICENT Tell a daddy. DANDINI But silence. MAGNIFICENT You know, go ahead soon. DANDINI Do not you hear us? MAGNIFICENT Up in the air You do not see a fly. DANDINI It is a certain arcane That will make you dumbfound. MAGNIFICENT I'm on thorns. DANDINI Let's sit down. MAGNIFICENT Soon for charity. DANDINI You will hear A very bizarre case. MAGNIFICENT What did he want Marry with me. DANDINI I recommend. MAGNIFICENT But let yourself be served. DANDINI Be sealed How much now you will hear from my mouth. MAGNIFICENT I keep an answering machine in my body. DANDINI A secret of importance, An interesting arcane I owe you palesar: And something extravagant, It will make you trasecolar. MAGNIFICENT Without batting your eyelashes, Without even taking my breath, I ask myself to listen: I will stay here petrified Each syllable to count. DANDINI Wise, seasoned man It's always better to recommend us, If I married one of his daughters, Why do I have to treat you? MAGNIFICENT Consiglier is already printed. But what an excess of clemency! Therefore, let me be your Excellency .. Indeed, Height to listen. Always have them ready in the hall Thirty servants in full gala, Dukes, counts and marshals To invited guests, One hundred sixteen horses; A million of parrots, Always lunch with ice-creams, Then carriages, then landò. DANDINI I answer you without arcana, That we are very far; I do not use to have lunches, I always eat leftovers; I'm not near great lords, I always treat servants; Always on foot I'm going. MAGNIFICENT Not corbella? DANDINI I promise you. MAGNIFICENT So this? DANDINI It's a novel. The principality is a prank I am a masked man; But come is the true prince, M 'has torn the mask off, I return to my job, Son Dandini the waiter, Read beds, sweep clothes, Shave and comb. MAGNIFICENT Of this insult, Of this affront The true prince He will give me an account. DANDINI Oh! not uncomfortable, It will not be anything: But leave immediately At once. MAGNIFICENT I will not leave. DANDINI She will leave. MAGNIFICENT We'll see again, We'll talk to each other. DANDINI We'll see again, We'll talk to each other. MAGNIFICENT I will not leave. DANDINI She will leave. MAGNIFICENT I hold in the cerebro A double bass, What a low bass Whisk goes. From top to bottom, Power of the world! What a slip, What a great waterfall! Here it is, here it is, Everyone will say, They will make fun of me For the city. DANDINI Poor devil! It's a big mess, What high up Piombar does it. Our Excellence Have caution; If you want satinjo, Soap and comb, I'll know how to curl it, Unblock it .. Ah! ah! watch it, The tawny is there. Room on earth as in Act 1 CINDERELLA How expensive you are! and those Whose name is your partner? It's more expensive than you. That mister prince What do you pretend with those grimaces? Oh beautiful! I do not mind embroidery, and I only love it Beautiful face, and sincere heart, And I give preference to his squire. My sisters in the meantime .. But what are you looking! Pareano stralunate! - what noise! Uh who I see! what a joke! Back! I do not think he'll be back before the day. CLORINDA But I told you .. MAGNIFICENT But before him! Very similar they are by no means at all. That is the original, this is the portrait. You did everything? CINDERELLA All. Because that ugly mug Do you do me that? MAGNIFICENT Why why .. For a certain witch, What looks like you. CLORINDA On your shoulders I would almost give it away. CINDERELLA Poor shoulders! What do they have to do? TISBE Oh it's bad weather! Thunderstorm threatens. MAGNIFICENT Other than a storm! I wish lightning, What the waiter incinerated. CINDERELLA But say: What happened? you have Some secret punishment? MAGNIFICENT Silly, go there: go get dinner ready. CINDERELLA I go, I go. Oh what a bad mood! Ah! my squire is in my heart. DANDINI Friend, forgive me, The prince's carriage Ribalt .. but who did I see? MAGNIFICENT Uh! are you? But where is the prince? DANDINI Do you know him? MAGNIFICENT The squire! oh look .. RAMIRO Lord, forgive me, If a combination .. MAGNIFICENT That says? Imagine you, my master. Eh! not without why it came here. The bride, my daughters, will be among you. Hey! soon Cinderella, Bring the noble chair. RAMIRO No, no; a few minutes: another car Ready will come back. MAGNIFICENT What a! do you think so? CLORINDA He hurries you, Cinderella. CINDERELLA I'm here. MAGNIFICENT From the prince, beast, there it is. CINDERELLA This .. ah I see! Prince! RAMIRO It stops. What, the smaniglio! it's her: what a joy this is! Are you? .. CINDERELLA Are you princes you? TISBE, CLORINDA What a surprise! DANDINI The case is beautiful. MAGNIFICENT But .. RAMIRO Be still. MAGNIFICENT Goodbye brain. Self .. RAMIRO, DANDINI Silence. RAMIRO, DANDINI, MAGNIFICENT, TISBE, CLORINDA, CENERENTOLA What will be! This is a tangled knot, This is a traced group. Who develops, the more it envelopes, The more one groups, the more groups; And in the meantime my head Fly, fly, and then stop, Vo 'tenton for the dark air, And I start to delirate. MAGNIFICENT But in short of the sums, Height, what do you want? RAMIRO Plan: no more words; This will be my bride. A TRE Ah! ah! he will say to laugh. Do not you see, what are you barking at? RAMIRO I swear: mine will be. MAGNIFICENT Among my scions, It seems to me that I will believe .. RAMIRO For them it is not me. I have a plebeian soul. I have a cheap air. DANDINI Finally on the bracelet Here the pallon came back: And the master player He raised it in the air. RAMIRO Come to my sen; I impose it. CINDERELLA On this hand at least; And first to this breast .. MAGNIFICENT It moves you away. CLORINDA, TISBE He drives you away. RAMIRO Perfidious insane people! I will make you tremble. THE OTHERS The one grumbles, and mutters; This noise, and it is angry; That quivers, this swarm; Who threatens, who sighs; It goes to finish, that a 'pazzarelli They will have to drag us. RAMIRO, DANDINI Come come; amor guides you Envy to triumph. Hall with throne CHOIR Of unstable fortune The revolubil wheel, As it reaches the vortex For you it stops motionless, Pride in dust falls, Goodness triumphs. Ballet RAMIRO Bride .. CINDERELLA Mr., forgive The tender uncertainty That still confuses me. Poc 'indeed you know Between the filthy ash .. And noble Serto surrounds me. MAGNIFICENT Height .. you bow down. CINDERELLA Do not you ever hear me call your daughter? RAMIRO Those proud .. CINDERELLA Ah prence! I fall at your feet. The ancient insults I vanish from my mind. Great I get, and I want to Deserve this gift Surrendering me with forgiveness. Born to trouble, to tears, He suffered by keeping his heart silent; But for sweet charm From my age in the flower, Like a quick flash My fate changed. No, no; wipe the edge Why tremar, why? At this speed, Daughter, sister, friend, You find everything in me. ALL M 'softens and m' agita, It is a nume in my eyes, Worthy of the prize six, What data comes to you. CINDERELLA Father .. Spouse .. Friend .. oh instant! No longer saddened by the fire I will be alone in gorgheggiar. Ah! it was a flash, a dream, a game My long palpitar. ALL Everything changes gradually: He ceases to sigh. Fortunately, you were the game; It starts to jubilate.

[yorulun]

Sandy paws

Summary : Bury your enemy's pets to get back at them.

Inspired by this post

Jason is cackling.

He had seen the recent trend of burying one's dog in sand up to their neck and Jason thinks to himself, what better way to get back at the Demon Brat other than through his pets?

It didn't hurt that the dogs love the sand and they're well trained enough to sit still as they are buried.

So Jason had went through with his self imposed mission and proceed to do it after he had volunteered to walk the dogs since the Demon Brat is still grounded after his recent stunt that DaddyBat disapproves of.

Since Gotham is an island and are basically surrounded by sea and beaches, it wasn't hard for him to find a secluded one. Well not after he took off with one of Bruce's fancy car that is. Alfred handing him the key notwithstanding.

He took a selfie with the dogs lolling their tongue out at the open window while driving and sent it to the group chat without context. The responses he received are instantaneous but he ignored it in favour of speeding down the stretch of empty road.

If he gets a ticket for it, well serve Bruce right for owning cars that goes beyond speed limit and not expect for his kids to take it out for a spin.

He arrived at the destination soon enough with the speed eating away at the length of it. The beach is as expected, empty of people and let the dogs bound out on the sand.

He is not that cruel to bring them to the beaches and not let them roll around in it first before he bury them to get back at their master.

He is not that barbaric, thank you very much.

While he let dogs run around, he checked on his persistently buzzing phone to see the expected threats from Baby Bat and the disapproving one from Daddy Bat for using his phone while driving. He just replied with a middle finger emoji and stuffed his phone away.

He will not let Alfred dissuade him from this because of course the elderly butler already pieced together what he planned on doing. The man is scarily precise that way, not only with the big ass shot gun that he kept stored away around the mansion.

Jason lets the dogs enjoy their freedom for a couple of minutes before he called them over with a sharp whistle. Damian had trained them differently but the dogs are intelligent enough to discern the members of the family to know they're called by one.

Both bounded over toward him and Jason knelt down to give each a good rub down. It's not their fault their master is such a big asshole.

"Imma start with you first Ace. I'm still upset about that jacket. It was my favourite."

He ordered the dog to sit still and it obeys without question even when Jason began to dig holes around it and dump sand on it. It took him roughly ten minutes to bury Ace and ten more to do the same with Titus since both are big dogs.

He took a couple of pictures and some selfies with him between them before dumping it all in the group chat.

Damian's murderous threats filled the pages of the chat and he dismissed every call that comes to his phone. Let the brat stew.

Serve him right.

The dogs seemed to be content being buried and he let them enjoy it for a couple of minutes before digging them out. He let them play in the water for a bit and later on roll around in sand.

He owed them that much for cooperating with his plan.

Jason called them back to the car and felt vicious satisfaction when they tracked sand and salt water all over the fancy leather seat of Bruce's car. The man have more than enough money to have it cleaned Jason is not that worried about making the man do it.

If they stopped by a Big Belly drive-thru on the way back, well the evidence had been gobbled up by the two ravenous dogs before they reached the manor.

He so does savour the constipated look on Damian's face by the time he arrived and is not at all guilty when Alfred told the brat to get the dog cleaned up before the dogs can enter the manor.

That will teach the brat no one touch his Neapolitan ice cream and gets away with it.

No one.

Well except for Alfred that is because the man is his favourite.

#jason todd #ace the bathound #titus #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #batfamily #batbros #batboys #jason being a little shit #my fic

[suchagiantnerd]

28 Books, 1 Year

Well, 2020, amirite? Staying home with a 4-year-old and a baby really decreased my reading time, bringing me to my lowest total ever since starting this blog. Here we go!

1. Her Body and Other Parties / Carmen Maria Machado

I rarely feel stupid when reading fiction, but this collection of short stories left me feeling pretty stupid. Machado's writing is visceral and gorgeous but what she's trying to say is mostly beyond me. Overall, the collection (as evident by the title) looks at the ways existing in a woman's body is fraught. Sometimes we want to escape our bodies, often our bodies are harmed or taken advantage of against our will, sometimes our bodies fail us. But as for the more nitty-gritty takeaways, I couldn't get there. One story in particular is staying with me. In it, Machado invents new summaries of each and every episode of Law & Order: SVU, telling a tale of a living, breathing New York City that requires regular blood sacrifices and in which everyone has a doppelgänger. I liked it, but definitely didn't get it.

2. Moon of the Crusted Snow / Waubgeshig Rice

This wonderfully chilling read takes place on a remote reserve in Northern Ontario. Over the course of a few days, cell service stops, the internet goes down, and the power goes out. With no communication possible with other communities, the reserve's residents can only guess at what may be occurring down south. As autumn creeps toward winter, the snow piles up and panic sets in. Eventually, a visitor arrives via snowmobile and confirms the residents' worst fears about the state of civilization while also asking to stay on in the community. Can he be trusted? Will others follow? This was a tense page-turner looking at the importance of community, preparedness and leadership.

3. Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar / Cheryl Strayed

Dear Sugar's advice to a person who didn't know whether or not he wanted kids is what turned me onto her. The answer was perfect. For someone on the fence, there is no right answer, no wrong answer. But there was a simple beauty to the way she said this. In this advice column collection, Sugar answers questions about love, parenthood, friendship, loss, death, finances, education, hopes and dreams. She insists again and again that we open our hearts and give forgiveness a chance while still maintaining healthy boundaries. And through her answers (and anecdotes) she showers love and care on so many devastated readers who are often writing to her as a last resort.

4. Girlfriend in a Coma / Douglas Coupland

We start the action with a Breakfast Club-type group of teens at a party in 1979 Vancouver. One of them, Karen, ends the night in a coma and doesn’t wake up for 16 YEARS. Also, turns out she was pregnant, and gives birth while in the coma. Richard, her boyfriend, raises their daughter with the help of his parents and friends, and by the time Karen wakes up again, the world has gone downhill. Not long after she wakes up, everyone starts falling asleep and dying except for the original group of friends and Karen’s daughter. I liked this novel as I’m a sucker for everything dystopian, but I also had to ask WHY? Why this random group of teens out of all the world? Why did Karen have to be in a coma for so long? How does it tie into the apocalypse? I still don’t know guys. I still don’t know.

5. How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression, and Transcendence / Michael Pollan

Back in the 1960s, research on LSD was banned thanks to a moral panic. But today, scientists and therapists are starting to study its uses again. Pollan takes a deep dive into the future of LSD, psilocybin (certain mushrooms, and if I remember correctly, a substance that a certain toad secretes?!) and DMT, taking various trips himself with the help of trained guides. His vivid descriptions of each trip were the highlight of the book, and I find myself, someone who has never tried anything other than pot, wanting to try microdosing in the future.

6. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine / Gail Honeyman

The first of two contrarian reviews this year, I really didn’t like this book. I found Eleanor’s character and quirks completely unbelievable, and even discovered a little hole in the plot demonstrating that she can’t be as out of touch with pop culture as Honeyman claims she is (which I can’t reveal to you because it’s also a spoiler). I think my issue is that as far as I know, the author is not neurodivergent, whereas Eleanor is. I think this does a real disservice to readers, and would much prefer to read something like this by a neurodivergent author.

7. The Story of the Lost Child / Elena Ferrante

I finally finished the Neapolitan Quartet series! The fourth and final book finds Elena and Lila in their thirties and follows them until they’re in their sixties as they navigate professional successes and failures, new aspects of motherhood, relationship woes, and a fraying friendship. The dynamics of the friendship at the core of this series speak to me so deeply and captures so much about the passion, tension, tenderness, and competition that lurk within a longtime platonic relationship.

8. The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle / Stuart Turton

Dare I describe this as Downton Abbey meets Black Mirror? Aidan Bishop wakes up on the same date and in the same setting every day (Blackheath Manor on Evelyn Hardcastle’s birthday) but as a different guest or employee each time. Each night, Evelyn Hardcastle is murdered. Aidan quickly learns that his task is to find the murderer, using the different skillsets and vantage points he inherits with each subsequent body. The tension! The twists! The gorgeous setting! I loved this winding, wild novel.

9. You Were Born for This: Astrology for Radical Self-Acceptance / Chani Nicholas

If you are an astrology lover and don’t know who Chani Nicholas is, you’ve been living under a rock! Follow this woman! Her practice and guidance is so inclusive - feminist, anti-racist, anti-transphobic, body positive, and all about how to discover and lean into your gifts and talents while keeping in mind the greater good and working toward a more progressive society.

10. An Ocean of Minutes / Thea Lim

I started reading this dystopian novel about a pandemic right at the start of the pandemic! Maybe not a wise decision, but it didn’t matter, because this book is a beautiful, moving read. In the near future, young couple Polly and Frank find themselves stranded in Galveston, Texas, when a deadly virus begins sweeping across the globe. Frank gets sick, and the only way that Polly can pay for his expensive life-saving treatment is if she signs up as a bonded laborer and travels to the future (yes, time-travel exists!) The couple agree to meet up in 12 years (which will really be just a few short days for Polly). However, Polly is send an extra five years into the future, and Frank is nowhere to be found. The worry I felt! Polly’s loneliness and confusion in the future! Will they find each other again? Oh boy, this was an emotional ride!

11. Where the Crawdads Sing / Delia Owens

The second of my two contrarian reviews this year, I also really disliked this book, which everyone else and their mother seemed to adore? It was bad! The plot felt really contrived, the characters were two-dimensional, and I felt icky about the author’s two Black characters and how the protagonist, Kya, interacted with them. I don’t think Delia is informed enough about the realities of the Black experience, then and now, to responsibly write Black characters. Also, the ‘twist ending’ was a snooze fest. The one redeeming factor was the author’s palpable love of and knowledge about nature. I really did enjoy reading about the coastal habitat and sea life that the Kya loved so much. Oh, what’s this novel about, you ask? It’s a combo coming-of-age / murder mystery set in the 1950s and 60s.

12. The Skin We’re In: A Year of Black Resistance and Power / Desmond Cole

Cole is a Canadian journalist and activist shining a much needed light on racism in this country. In this book, he highlights one incidence of systemic racism in action per month during the year of 2017, focussing on police brutality, harm caused by school boards and educators, the Canada 150 celebrations, and unjust immigration policies. This book packs a punch and Cole’s writing style is really accessible. It’s a great entry point into learning about the realities of racism in Canada.

13. Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds / Adrienne Maree Brown

I absolutely loved this book, though I find it hard to pin down. At its core, it encourages us to think more deeply and holistically about nature, social justice, and community. Brown is heavily influenced by Black sci-fi / dystopian master Octavia Butler, specifically Butler’s ideas around “shaping change” while living through change. It’s full of gems of wisdom, like this quote, which is one of my favourites: “Imagination is one of the spoils of colonization, which in many ways is claiming who gets to imagine the future for a given geography.” As Brown also writes about, and which we can really see in this moment, we are currently living through the tail-end of a dying society, imagined by a small few. What could we create together if everyone’s imaginings carried equal weight?

14. From the Ashes: My Story of Being Métis, Homeless, and Finding My Way / Jesse Thistle

Thistle’s emotional and turbulent memoir begins with a loving memory of his time as a little boy at his maternal grandparents’ home. Not long after, his parents moved the family away from their Métis community and Jesse and his two brothers soon end up in the foster care system. This experience, though relatively brief, absolutely traumatized all three of them. Later, they end up living with their paternal grandparents, who love them deeply but are extremely strict, which doesn’t work for Thistle. He hits various rock bottoms, battling with addiction, trauma and homelessness at the intersection of racism. And somehow, he manages to break free of these harmful cycles, go back to school, and become an academic and best-selling author.

15. Policing Black Lives: State Violence in Canada from Slavery to the Present / Robyn Maynard

I would call this a must-read for Canadians. Maynard breaks down exactly how Canada surveils and punishes Blackness despite its claims of inclusivity and tolerance. She explores policing, yes, but also social work, education, immigration, and education and it’s impossible not to see the levers of systemic racism at work everywhere. Fair warning though, this is a more academic text and requires real concentration.

16. Jhumpa Lahiri / Unaccustomed Earth

This collection of short stories (the last being more of a novella) was gripping. I somehow fell in love with almost all of the characters. Lahiri writes people so skillfully. I felt their longing, hope, sorrow, grief, excitement. Most of the tales take place within the Indian community in Cambridge, Massachusetts, but some stories take us further afield. Lahiri picks a key relationship to focus on within each story - daughter/father, sister/brother, two roommates, childhood acquaintances - and lays them out gently under her microscope for us to see in all their intricate complexity.

17. Midnight Sun / Stephenie Meyer

Did you guys know I’m a Twihard? Having read all the Twilight novels (multiple times) way before I started this blog, this may be new information. But I’m a huge, pathetic fan and though I love Jacob, I will always be Team Edward. So OF COURSE I had to read this extremely long-awaited book, which is actually Twilight, but from Edward’s point of view rather than Bella’s. It was genuinely enjoyable, but not filled with nearly enough sexual tension for my liking. And of course, never ever read it unless you are also a Twilight fan.

18. The Sun and Her Flowers / Rupi Kaur

It’s Rupi being Rupi! I legitimately enjoy Rupi’s poetry, but I don’t love it. Some of the pieces really resonate, and others do nothing for me. But I do think she’s an important voice for young women, and specifically young women of colour. So much of her writing is about reclaiming your power, honouring the older generation of women who sacrificed so much and received nothing in return, and learning to love yourself in a society that is constantly trying to hurt you. Her poetry is always an uplifting read.

19. Conscious Creativity: Look, Connect, Create / Philippa Stanton

I’ve been following Philippa on Instagram for years as I adore her flat-lays and domestic foraging arrangements (if you follow me on IG, you may have seen my colour-themed #DomesticForaging homages to her work!) So when she published a book outlining her own creative process (and containing tons of her gorgeous photography), I had to read it. Stanton has included lots of activities meant to light your creative spark and inspire new ways of looking at things. She also writes about her experiences as a synesthete (someone who may “see” music as colours or who may “hear” shapes), which was fascinating. This is a book I’ll certainly go back to when I’m feeling uninspired. Want to follow her on IG? Her handle is @5tfinf.

20. Turkey Trot Murder / Leslie Meier

Guys, this review is the start of something BIG. Brad knows that I love to read books that are “in season” (I don’t want to read a book set in the summer during the winter, etc.). So he bought me this very niche Thanksgiving mystery novel to read in October. It’s alllll fluff, and very much in the “so bad it’s good” category. It also turns out that Leslie Meier may be one of the most prolific authors of all time, and so Brad signed me up to her “book of the month” fan club for my birthday this year, meaning I get a new, seasonally appropriate Meier classic each month. (You should also know that the “book of the month” fan club is entirely made up, and the letters from Leslie are actually written by Brad, and yes, he has designed a logo for the letterhead.)

21. Haunted House Murder / Leslie Meier and Lee Hollis and Barbara Ross

Wait, what? THREE authors? Yes, some of the Leslie Meier classics are actually novellas, so they are combined with novellas by two other authors into these seasonal collections. Also, Lee Hollis isn’t even real. Lee Hollis is in fact TWO PEOPLE, a brother/sister writing duo! So there are four authors involved in this spooky little collection. They all take place in small-town Maine, so yes, the settings are adorable and the plots are terrible.

22. Autumn / Karl Ove Knausgaard

I think I would describe this memoir (?) as a collection of magical noticings. While his wife is pregnant with their fourth baby, Knausgaard starts writing letters to the unborn child, telling them about, well, everything and anything. That project turned into this book, in which the writer observes everyday things like hands, toilets, fog, petrol, and snakes, and finds the beauty and wonder in all of them. Reading this book left me feeling very inspired and wanting to try and develop this skill in myself as I write.

23. The Feather Thief: Beauty, Obsession, and the Natural History Heist of the Century / Kirk Wallace Johnson

Back in 2009, Edwin Rist stole HUNDREDS of dead birds from the British Museum of Natural History. That fact alone is mind-boggling (how?), but it gets wilder. He didn’t steal them for nerdy science reasons, he stole them to sell to the Victorian fly-tying community. Yes, flies as in the things you attach to fish hooks. And no, not flies that will actually be used, but flies that are constructed as a hobby and art form. Wallace Johnson does a great job of conveying Rist’s obsessive passion for fly-tying and the desperation many fly-tiers feel as they try to track down increasingly rare and protected feathers from exotic (or extinct) birds. The author also has a journalist’s nose for sniffing out lies and half-truths and even tracks down Rist himself for a sit-down interview. I was riveted throughout the whole book, which lives at the intersection of history, science, mystery, and psychological deep-dive.

24. Yule Log Murder / Leslie Meier and Lee Hollis and Barbara Ross

The seasonal fluff dream team is back! And yes, a yule log features prominently in each novella. Once as a murder weapon, and once as a suspected murder weapon! These books also feature real recipes, some of which actually look pretty tasty!

25. Empire of Wild / Cherie Dimaline

This was a chilling page-turner and the second novel of Dimaline’s that I’ve read and devoured. She’s quickly become one of my favourite authors. In this story, Joan, a Métis woman living in the Georgian Bay area, is at the tail-end of the worst year of her life. Almost a year ago, her husband Victor disappeared into thin air after a rare argument between the couple, and Joan’s been searching for him ever since. One day, she wanders past a Christian revival tent in a Walmart parking lot, and the minister is the spitting image of Victor. She manages to have a brief conversation with him and it appears he has no memory of her or his prior life. Yet, in her gut, she KNOWS it’s him and resolves to return him to himself (and to her). This slow-burning horror novel weaves in the Métis myth of the Rogarou, a werewolf-ish creature who walks lonely roads looking for victims, to great effect.

26. Eggnog Murder / Leslie Meier and Lee Hollis and Barbara Ross

Another seasonal romp in which this time, the eggnog is the murder weapon in TWO of the stories! TWO PEOPLE IN TWO SEPARATE STORIES DIE FROM DRINKING NUT MILK EGGNOG AND NOT KNOWING IT WAS NUT MILK AND SUFFERING FROM A NUT ALLERGY. Anyways, I actually made one of the included recipes this time - eggnog muffins - and they were truly delicious!

27. Watch Over Me / Nina LaCour

This is a beautiful and haunting (both literally and figuratively) YA novel about the way trauma from our past follows us around, haunting our present. Mila, who’s just aged out of the foster care system, lands what seems to be a perfect job helping to teach younger children at a farm in Northern California. The farm is owned by an older couple who’ve become somewhat famous for taking in dozens of kids from the foster system over the years. Upon arrival, Mila falls in love, but soon starts to notice strange things about the way things are done on the farm, while also suffering from PTSD related to her own childhood traumas. Is there something sinister going on, or could this beautiful, isolated place become the home Mila’s always longed for?

28. Phases / h.duxbury

I started writing poetry again this summer, and quickly found lots of other poets sharing their work on Instagram. @hduxburypoetry (a fellow Ontarian, too!) quickly became one of my favourite accounts to follow, so when i learned that she self-published a poetry collection, I had to grab a copy. Her work is heavily inspired by nature and the changing seasons, which I’m a sucker for, so I really enjoyed it. Her poems also delve into grief, loneliness, love, and growth.

Well, there you have it! As for my 2020 faves, my top three reads were:

Empire of Wild

Unaccustomed Earth

Emergent Strategy