I could have blurred that username but I chose not to.... I am just not that good of a person. I never promote hate here on my blog and I never ever look forward to do so but this time, I just could not.

When it comes to me, myself, I am actually quite proud. I have a job, I pay my own bills, I buy expensive stuff on occasions, I dress well, I eat well, I drink well and I tolerate absolutely no shit. I don't wanna boast but if I tell you guys my full name, and you search that in google, you will probably see me as a search result in the very first page. Yeah, I count this as an achievement.

And I love writing. My favorite authors in here have always inspired me to write and pursue it as a hobby. So I do. I write when I can manage, after work, before work, and during weekends. and Yes, I write about the people I don't know (personally) but these are also the people to make me happier than people I do know (personally). Hence, I see nothing wrong in here. They are my muse and knowing muse personally is never required while you create art (I am leaving out the painful details of how I tattooed these people I don't know right on my arm).

Spreading hate is really easy. You can say whatever you want to an adult, knowing absolutely nothing about her, asking her to get a job and a hobby while she probably has a job cooler than yours. Yes! I am 24! And YES! I write fan fictions! What are you going to do about it? Call the Karen Police? No I mean... Do you guys want minors to write smut for you? What the fuck is wrong with people like you? Armys like us should get and job and hobby? well, Armys like us can be 30 and sit at home, doing nothing, and write fanfictions if that's what makes them happy! It should be none of your fucking business. It's probably you who should get a better job and use the paycheck to get a better life.

I am questioning their sanity now? what exactly is wrong with them?

I don't understand the deal in here?

average policing stan when other people have different likes and hobbies and they can't control every single aspect of someone else's life according to their own perception of the world:

━ type: jungkook x gn! reader   ━ navigation

━ about: a healthy splash of angst; reader is slightly older than Jungkook (also in denial) and he is a whole forest because there's just so much pine

━ requested by @manavi-meera (?) tumblr deleted your ask when I tried to write in it, all I saw was the gif :/

"Just think about it."

"It's Jungkook!"

"Yeah, it's Jungkook. So think about it."

"Hmm."

It's around when your foot is halfway across the threshold that Yoongi speaks again — just as somber as he'd begun the conversation. If, of course, one's ex-boyfriend turned best friend hurtling a bunch of mistruths and delusions at a completely oblivious and confused party of the other could be construed as a "conversation".

"Oh and ______________?"

You turn around, feeling some form of clammy fear sink its grimy talons around your gut the longer this stifled, awkward bout of silence drags on.

"Yeah?"

"Just...be kind. No matter what you do."

And because for some unknown reason a sudden knot appears at the base of your throat, you can't speak — without rhyme or reason it seems nigh impossible to utter a single word so you nod. Nod and leave Yoongi to sit in his studio alone and with that disconcerting glimmer in his eye. 

Jungkook liking you — one has to laugh! 

“Old man has to be checked for dementia,” you grouse to yourself, the only thing hearing your discontent being the darkness of the emptied hallway. 

The thought! The absolute gall! 

Jungkook liking you…

It’s — it's ridiculous!

But because of one nosey little fucker, the idea has been planted in your head now and like an invasive species of flora, it refuses to leave your gardens alone. 

You try to imagine, you give it an honest, good effort but even now, after all these years what you see before your eyes when thinking of Jungkook are those big, wet eyes. It doesn’t matter how many tattoos and piercings he adorns himself with, how many bikes he drives through the night in the name of the thrill, none of it matters — to you he’s just a gangly kid, always turning his face away so you don’t see the nearly constant state of panic reflected in his features. 

What Yoongi has been smoking you have no idea, frankly you certainly don’t want to try it if it causes this sort of brain damage. 

Jungkook yearning for you. 

Yearning. Just hearing that word bounce back in your skull makes you scoff. Yearning was for torrid love affairs and sentimental romance books; no one in real life yearned. Who could possibly have the time?

Grab your jacket —> go home —> forget this ever happened —> maybe share a demure chuckle or two with Yoongi five years laters, because obviously he’d be embarrassed about being this wrong about something but the plan is fucked. 

It’s fucked because big, brown eyes are staring right back at you, as you round the corner into the wardrobe and more importantly they’re holding your jacket. Well, his hands, not the eyes. Eyes couldn’t hold things. 

“Welcome back,” Jungkook outstretches the jacket towards you, his voice rumbling low in the chest. It’s usually a pleasant hum but because of Yoongi you cannot help but wonder whether it’s a pleased hum as well. “Why didn’t you tell me you're stopping by?”

Had it been just yesterday you would have punched his arm, rolled your eyes and annoyed the ever loving shit out of him, saying he’s not your boyfriend — you don’t owe him to know when and where you’re coming and going but it’s today and suddenly merely touching him feels excruciatingly awkward. 

“Must have slipped my mind,” you mutter, struggling to put the jacket on. A faint wrinkle of discontent worms its way in the space between his eyebrows. Frustration rises and he outstretches himself to help you — out of instinct, out of annoyance? — you're not quite sure, before it never crossed your mind to ponder about it. However, now that you do your legs take an automated step back and Jungkook's hands after a second of lingering contemplatively into the air, half reached out towards you drop back to his thighs — unassuming and still.

"Something wrong?" he asks, inclining his head to the side and why....

...why is it sort of cute?

Cute in a very Jungkook way but not in a usual Jungkook way because usually he was like a little brother you never wanted and...

"__________________?"

...and you're spiralling.

"Yeah?" you blink down on him and the frown on his face deepens.

"You're a bit," jerkily, he waves his fingers around. "Out of it."

"You're like a brother to me, right?"

You didn't mean for it to come out as a question but it is now and it's terrifying. It's terrifying because Yoongi was right. Jungkook's not laughing or scoffing or even acting annoyed or offended by this familiarity. Rather there's this ashen film covering his face and the longer his gaze flits anxiously from one spot to another — anywhere but your own persona — the more you understand.

He'd thrust his heart into your awkward hands and now you're simply horrified to even hold it with more pressure — what if it breaks, what if you hurt it in anyway? It feels more like an injured bird than a heart — any wrong move and you would do something that would weigh down on you for the rest of the remaining days.

It's your turn to call out his name and echoing the same confused, absent-minded state you're in, he hums at the mention of his name, eyes hazy and teeth gnawing on his lip.

"I mean I always thought we're...friends, you know?"

"You're still—"

"I'm not little anymore."

For a second he gains a new sort of resolution - the hazy veil in his eyes is traded for something more steel like and his spine straightens just for a second befoer he collapses into himself, muttering with no small amount of bitterness:

"I'm not a kid, ___________, and you're not that much older than me."

"I know it's just," there is an ill-willing sense of a migraine coming on - you could feel it into the tepid albeit painful tension sitting at the base of your neck. "I guess it's just hard to shake off first impressions, Koo."

He gives an ugly sort of snort — a bit bitter, a bit self-depreciating — and you swear there is a "don't I know it" under his breath, grumbled in a tone that implies it's something of an inside joke with himself.

You wonder what it means.

"I'll walk you home," he suddenly utters, jumping up from the seat. Was he always such a beefcake? Your stare lingers just a touch too long and now that the proverbial scales had been ripped off your eyes you fully grasp how he preens underneath this crumb of attention.

It brings back the awkward feel in your hands — like holding something too small and too precious while walking across a tightrope.

"I didn't ask—"

"Tough shit," he throws over his shoulder, already walking away, pretending to be all cool.

"When did you get so commanding?" you grouse, rushing to keep up with him. It's a bit easier to breathe for now, here in the desolate hallway of HYBE's lower wardrobess, things have for now returned to normal and you revel in that fact though in the back of your mind you know things are soon to change. Conversations will be had and secrets will be spiilled, be it for better or worse. You know it and Jungkook knows it but for now you both pretend it's the same it used to be and bicker to your heart's delight.

"Spank me then."

"Fucking perv."

"Who do you think I learned it from?"

"From Namjoon's truly godless porn sites."

"I'm a good boy, I would never."

"Wipe that sly grin off your face and maybe I'll believe you."

send in a picture of the boys and I’ll write a scenario

Assuming anyone’s sexuality is wrong.

just a little rant: but I was just scrolling to find some jungkook gifs for someone and searching up some gifs when I came across a post that said “jungkook is the gayest gay, the delulus think he’s straight.” Or something like that, and for me. That is just said, that we have all come so far that the LGBTQ+ has come so far but we just don’t respect people’s privacy especially idols, the same thing happened with the heart stopper actor.

We are not jungkook’s friends. Even if we were his friends it is not normal or okay to assume anyone’s sexuality. Sexuality is really personal thing to every individual and it takes a long time to figure out for some people and therefore it should be private and left alone until the individual speaks about it.

So just stop assuming people’s sexuality it’s fucking weird, like what do you get out of it?

I just want to make clear that it is just as weird to defend jungkook for being straight because one we don’t have to defend him it’s not wrong to be anything but straight and two that is also assuming his sexuality.

I would also like you to know not everyone who gets with the same gender or both genders or multiple genders do not always have a fucking label. So just leave it alone.

It is weird, like how would you feel if you just saw a scroll of instagram posts of strangers being like “oh yeah ___ is gay, oh no ___ is totally straight or ___ is something else.” It’s weird and wrong and violating privacy and really it’s none of your fucking business. Touch some grass and please find a hobby instead of guessing some person’s sexuality who hasn’t even spoken about it themselves to somehow appease yourself.

Before you come at me, I am a supporter of LGBTQIA+ I am not saying to that is wrong to be part of it or to experiment with sexuality I am saying it is wrong to guess and assume people’s sexuality for your entertainment. (I am talking about a certain group of people here)

I have had it done to me, it was horrible and really fricking confusing to me, of course jungkook has a bigger platform, so yeah he might not see it - okay? but it doesn’t make it okay? but I’m not just saying just jungkook. I am saying it’s wrong on a personal level to, to assume and guess sexuality of friends or family or acquaintances.

Because it’s for them to figure out and speak out to people they trust and want to know, not for the whole world to.

Just leave it alone.

This was longer than I thought it would be but it’s been on my mind for awhile since the heart stopper actor went through it and other actors as well as myself going through it.

It is my opinion, I hope I made myself clear if not you to ask I would hate for misunderstanding.

Just be respectful when it comes to this topic and people’s lives okay.

And do the basics and respect privacy <3

another member is in love with you.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader   ━ navigation

━ about: angst, a few hurt/comfort elements; this somehow wound up being about the bond between boys as much as the x reader part

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━  c/w: depiction of throwing up in Jimin’s part

NAMJOON | “Since when did you switch to another movie?”

Though the haze with which he’d come home with had not disappeared entirely, it did lessen. However, with this sentence being the first and only thing he’d spoken to you the entire day…well, you couldn’t help but be just a tad ornery.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” you jeer. “We do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

But something is undeniably wrong and it’s not the silence or the faraway gleam of his expression that gives it away but rather the absolute lack of reaction. His hand still monotonously brushes up against your leg that sits perched up in his lap but he’s simply not here.

“Joon,” you call out, a stern new tone lilting your voice. It stirs him enough to break whatever trance he self-imposed and lifting his head, Namjoon blearily blinks up like one would after a long nap.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you think of Yoongi?”

Sitting half-turned on the sofa with a distinct wrinkle of an oncoming frown, he awaits your answer. One you don’t know.

“Yoongi?” you parrot, all of a sudden being the confused one. “What…what does Yoongi have to do with anything?”

“Like are you two close?”

A beat of silence drags on as you stare at each other. It is frustrating being asked something you did not understand and yet even more so looking into Namjoon’s eyes and having no idea what is it that’s sitting behind them.

“Uh…not really?” at last you cautiously reply. “He texts me something funny every now and then but that’s it.”

“What kind of ‘something funny’?”

The room tumbles into another bout of silence. Slowly you tuck your legs away and though his fingers clutch repeatedly around the emptied air as if the sudden domestic absence has hurt him, the tone of his voice is just too damn imperial for you to care.

“Memes, cat videos,” unwittingly, a part of you — not so agreeable part — breaks free and arching an equally damning eyebrow, you goad him on: “Why? You want to have a look?”

He thinks of it, he genuinely weighs it over, you could see it in the way his pupils dart to the side, half-calculating, half-ashamed of the possibility. By the time that he wistfully utters: “no, there’s no need” it is too late. The tranquil peace of a quiet evening has thoroughly evaporated — what lingers in the air now is terse and partly hidden.

You may not know Yoongi but Namjoon knows Yoongi and he knows that there is something soft that quirks his lips at the mere mention of your name. That the way his gaze follows you around is just a touch too tender. Safe to say, it all goes unspoken — it is Yoongi after all — and Namjoon doesn’t know whether it’s for the better or worse. There is a certain kind of cathartic appeal to just shouting things aloud, consequences be damned, but as it stands, for now at least, everything is quiet and nothing is resolved.

Still, Yoongi doesn’t bother you — shouldn’t that be enough? He has the freedom to feel how he feels, just not the right to act upon it. And the fact is that it wasn’t Yoongi per se that was ruining his relationship right now; Namjoon was doing it quite well all by himself.

Peeking at you from the corner of the eye, he finds you sitting blue. Blue as in bathed in the blue light of the working TV although you do appear quite sad — all shrunken away into the corner, staring at the screen but not seeing anything.

You’ve had a fight.

He just started a fight.

Drawing a curt sigh, Namjoon inches himself a bit closer, acutely monitoring every last bit of you, down to the microexpressions. The slightly stretched out bottom lip, the tightly wound arms around your stomach, just the slight, almost imperceptible crease in between your eyebrows — yes, most certainly, you’ve just had a fight.

Still despite Namjoon moving ever so closer, slyly crawling back into your good graces both metaphorically and physically, you don’t make a move to deny him or cuss him out. In fact, you don’t make any move and once again he doesn’t know if that’s for the better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s earnest — you both know it is. You may not know that he’s saying sorry for more than just this but that too is earnest. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“Then don’t start no fights,” spitefully, you bite back but if your non-reaction was anything to go by as Namjoon places a palm on your knee, he will be forgiven.

Seven Days a Week

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/female reader

Rating: M for mature

Genre:  slice of life? Non!idol au

Warnings: Smut, being followed around by Jungkook, mentions of scrapes and bruises, arguing

Summary: Every hour, every minute, every second - Jungkook wants to be with you. This is based loosely off the MV. 

Word Count: 2489

Keep reading

all the links should be up and working now!

another member is in love with you.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader   ━ masterlist

━ about: angst, a few hurt/comfort elements; this somehow wound up being about the bond between boys as much as the x reader part

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━  c/w: depiction of throwing up in Jimin’s part

NAMJOON | “Since when did you switch to another movie?”

Though the haze with which he’d come home with had not disappeared entirely, it did lessen. However, with this sentence being the first and only thing he’d spoken to you the entire day…well, you couldn’t help but be just a tad ornery.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” you jeer. “We do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

But something is undeniably wrong and it’s not the silence or the faraway gleam of his expression that gives it away but rather the absolute lack of reaction. His hand still monotonously brushes up against your leg that sits perched up in his lap but he’s simply not here.

“Joon,” you call out, a stern new tone lilting your voice. It stirs him enough to break whatever trance he self-imposed and lifting his head, Namjoon blearily blinks up like one would after a long nap.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you think of Yoongi?”

Sitting half-turned on the sofa with a distinct wrinkle of an oncoming frown, he awaits your answer. One you don’t know.

“Yoongi?” you parrot, all of a sudden being the confused one. “What…what does Yoongi have to do with anything?”

“Like are you two close?”

A beat of silence drags on as you stare at each other. It is frustrating being asked something you did not understand and yet even more so looking into Namjoon’s eyes and having no idea what is it that’s sitting behind them.

“Uh…not really?” at last you cautiously reply. “He texts me something funny every now and then but that’s it.”

“What kind of ‘something funny’?”

The room tumbles into another bout of silence. Slowly you tuck your legs away and though his fingers clutch repeatedly around the emptied air as if the sudden domestic absence has hurt him, the tone of his voice is just too damn imperial for you to care.

“Memes, cat videos,” unwittingly, a part of you — not so agreeable part — breaks free and arching an equally damning eyebrow, you goad him on: “Why? You want to have a look?”

He thinks of it, he genuinely weighs it over, you could see it in the way his pupils dart to the side, half-calculating, half-ashamed of the possibility. By the time that he wistfully utters: “no, there’s no need” it is too late. The tranquil peace of a quiet evening has thoroughly evaporated — what lingers in the air now is terse and partly hidden.

You may not know Yoongi but Namjoon knows Yoongi and he knows that there is something soft that quirks his lips at the mere mention of your name. That the way his gaze follows you around is just a touch too tender. Safe to say, it all goes unspoken — it is Yoongi after all — and Namjoon doesn’t know whether it’s for the better or worse. There is a certain kind of cathartic appeal to just shouting things aloud, consequences be damned, but as it stands, for now at least, everything is quiet and nothing is resolved.

Still, Yoongi doesn’t bother you — shouldn’t that be enough? He has the freedom to feel how he feels, just not the right to act upon it. And the fact is that it wasn’t Yoongi per se that was ruining his relationship right now; Namjoon was doing it quite well all by himself.

Peeking at you from the corner of the eye, he finds you sitting blue. Blue as in bathed in the blue light of the working TV although you do appear quite sad — all shrunken away into the corner, staring at the screen but not seeing anything.

You’ve had a fight.

He just started a fight.

Drawing a curt sigh, Namjoon inches himself a bit closer, acutely monitoring every last bit of you, down to the microexpressions. The slightly stretched out bottom lip, the tightly wound arms around your stomach, just the slight, almost imperceptible crease in between your eyebrows — yes, most certainly, you’ve just had a fight.

Still despite Namjoon moving ever so closer, slyly crawling back into your good graces both metaphorically and physically, you don’t make a move to deny him or cuss him out. In fact, you don’t make any move and once again he doesn’t know if that’s for the better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s earnest — you both know it is. You may not know that he’s saying sorry for more than just this but that too is earnest. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“Then don’t start no fights,” spitefully, you bite back but if your non-reaction was anything to go by as Namjoon places a palm on your knee, he will be forgiven.

another member is in love with you.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader   ━ masterlist

━ about: angst, a few hurt/comfort elements; this somehow wound up being about the bond between boys as much as the x reader part

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━  c/w: depiction of throwing up in Jimin’s part

NAMJOON | “Since when did you switch to another movie?”

Though the haze with which he’d come home with had not disappeared entirely, it did lessen. However, with this sentence being the first and only thing he’d spoken to you the entire day…well, you couldn’t help but be just a tad ornery.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” you jeer. “We do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

But something is undeniably wrong and it’s not the silence or the faraway gleam of his expression that gives it away but rather the absolute lack of reaction. His hand still monotonously brushes up against your leg that sits perched up in his lap but he’s simply not here.

“Joon,” you call out, a stern new tone lilting your voice. It stirs him enough to break whatever trance he self-imposed and lifting his head, Namjoon blearily blinks up like one would after a long nap.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you think of Yoongi?”

Sitting half-turned on the sofa with a distinct wrinkle of an oncoming frown, he awaits your answer. One you don’t know.

“Yoongi?” you parrot, all of a sudden being the confused one. “What…what does Yoongi have to do with anything?”

“Like are you two close?”

A beat of silence drags on as you stare at each other. It is frustrating being asked something you did not understand and yet even more so looking into Namjoon’s eyes and having no idea what is it that’s sitting behind them.

“Uh…not really?” at last you cautiously reply. “He texts me something funny every now and then but that’s it.”

“What kind of ‘something funny’?”

The room tumbles into another bout of silence. Slowly you tuck your legs away and though his fingers clutch repeatedly around the emptied air as if the sudden domestic absence has hurt him, the tone of his voice is just too damn imperial for you to care.

“Memes, cat videos,” unwittingly, a part of you — not so agreeable part — breaks free and arching an equally damning eyebrow, you goad him on: “Why? You want to have a look?”

He thinks of it, he genuinely weighs it over, you could see it in the way his pupils dart to the side, half-calculating, half-ashamed of the possibility. By the time that he wistfully utters: “no, there’s no need” it is too late. The tranquil peace of a quiet evening has thoroughly evaporated — what lingers in the air now is terse and partly hidden.

You may not know Yoongi but Namjoon knows Yoongi and he knows that there is something soft that quirks his lips at the mere mention of your name. That the way his gaze follows you around is just a touch too tender. Safe to say, it all goes unspoken — it is Yoongi after all — and Namjoon doesn’t know whether it’s for the better or worse. There is a certain kind of cathartic appeal to just shouting things aloud, consequences be damned, but as it stands, for now at least, everything is quiet and nothing is resolved.

Still, Yoongi doesn’t bother you — shouldn’t that be enough? He has the freedom to feel how he feels, just not the right to act upon it. And the fact is that it wasn’t Yoongi per se that was ruining his relationship right now; Namjoon was doing it quite well all by himself.

Peeking at you from the corner of the eye, he finds you sitting blue. Blue as in bathed in the blue light of the working TV although you do appear quite sad — all shrunken away into the corner, staring at the screen but not seeing anything.

You’ve had a fight.

He just started a fight.

Drawing a curt sigh, Namjoon inches himself a bit closer, acutely monitoring every last bit of you, down to the microexpressions. The slightly stretched out bottom lip, the tightly wound arms around your stomach, just the slight, almost imperceptible crease in between your eyebrows — yes, most certainly, you’ve just had a fight.

Still despite Namjoon moving ever so closer, slyly crawling back into your good graces both metaphorically and physically, you don’t make a move to deny him or cuss him out. In fact, you don’t make any move and once again he doesn’t know if that’s for the better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s earnest — you both know it is. You may not know that he’s saying sorry for more than just this but that too is earnest. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“Then don’t start no fights,” spitefully, you bite back but if your non-reaction was anything to go by as Namjoon places a palm on your knee, he will be forgiven.

another member is in love with you.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader   ━ masterlist

━ about: angst, a few hurt/comfort elements; this somehow wound up being about the bond between boys as much as the x reader part

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━  c/w: depiction of throwing up in Jimin’s part

NAMJOON | “Since when did you switch to another movie?”

Though the haze with which he’d come home with had not disappeared entirely, it did lessen. However, with this sentence being the first and only thing he’d spoken to you the entire day…well, you couldn’t help but be just a tad ornery.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” you jeer. “We do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

But something is undeniably wrong and it’s not the silence or the faraway gleam of his expression that gives it away but rather the absolute lack of reaction. His hand still monotonously brushes up against your leg that sits perched up in his lap but he’s simply not here.

“Joon,” you call out, a stern new tone lilting your voice. It stirs him enough to break whatever trance he self-imposed and lifting his head, Namjoon blearily blinks up like one would after a long nap.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you think of Yoongi?”

Sitting half-turned on the sofa with a distinct wrinkle of an oncoming frown, he awaits your answer. One you don’t know.

“Yoongi?” you parrot, all of a sudden being the confused one. “What…what does Yoongi have to do with anything?”

“Like are you two close?”

A beat of silence drags on as you stare at each other. It is frustrating being asked something you did not understand and yet even more so looking into Namjoon’s eyes and having no idea what is it that’s sitting behind them.

“Uh…not really?” at last you cautiously reply. “He texts me something funny every now and then but that’s it.”

“What kind of ‘something funny’?”

The room tumbles into another bout of silence. Slowly you tuck your legs away and though his fingers clutch repeatedly around the emptied air as if the sudden domestic absence has hurt him, the tone of his voice is just too damn imperial for you to care.

“Memes, cat videos,” unwittingly, a part of you — not so agreeable part — breaks free and arching an equally damning eyebrow, you goad him on: “Why? You want to have a look?”

He thinks of it, he genuinely weighs it over, you could see it in the way his pupils dart to the side, half-calculating, half-ashamed of the possibility. By the time that he wistfully utters: “no, there’s no need” it is too late. The tranquil peace of a quiet evening has thoroughly evaporated — what lingers in the air now is terse and partly hidden.

You may not know Yoongi but Namjoon knows Yoongi and he knows that there is something soft that quirks his lips at the mere mention of your name. That the way his gaze follows you around is just a touch too tender. Safe to say, it all goes unspoken — it is Yoongi after all — and Namjoon doesn’t know whether it’s for the better or worse. There is a certain kind of cathartic appeal to just shouting things aloud, consequences be damned, but as it stands, for now at least, everything is quiet and nothing is resolved.

Still, Yoongi doesn’t bother you — shouldn’t that be enough? He has the freedom to feel how he feels, just not the right to act upon it. And the fact is that it wasn’t Yoongi per se that was ruining his relationship right now; Namjoon was doing it quite well all by himself.

Peeking at you from the corner of the eye, he finds you sitting blue. Blue as in bathed in the blue light of the working TV although you do appear quite sad — all shrunken away into the corner, staring at the screen but not seeing anything.

You’ve had a fight.

He just started a fight.

Drawing a curt sigh, Namjoon inches himself a bit closer, acutely monitoring every last bit of you, down to the microexpressions. The slightly stretched out bottom lip, the tightly wound arms around your stomach, just the slight, almost imperceptible crease in between your eyebrows — yes, most certainly, you’ve just had a fight.

Still despite Namjoon moving ever so closer, slyly crawling back into your good graces both metaphorically and physically, you don’t make a move to deny him or cuss him out. In fact, you don’t make any move and once again he doesn’t know if that’s for the better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s earnest — you both know it is. You may not know that he’s saying sorry for more than just this but that too is earnest. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“Then don’t start no fights,” spitefully, you bite back but if your non-reaction was anything to go by as Namjoon places a palm on your knee, he will be forgiven.

Why the holy grail of fuck did tumblr decide to just close my asks😭😭😭

They're reopened now 💀💀

another member is in love with you.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader   ━ masterlist

━ about: angst, a few hurt/comfort elements; this somehow wound up being about the bond between boys as much as the x reader part

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━  c/w: depiction of throwing up in Jimin’s part

NAMJOON | “Since when did you switch to another movie?”

Though the haze with which he’d come home with had not disappeared entirely, it did lessen. However, with this sentence being the first and only thing he’d spoken to you the entire day…well, you couldn’t help but be just a tad ornery.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” you jeer. “We do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

But something is undeniably wrong and it’s not the silence or the faraway gleam of his expression that gives it away but rather the absolute lack of reaction. His hand still monotonously brushes up against your leg that sits perched up in his lap but he’s simply not here.

“Joon,” you call out, a stern new tone lilting your voice. It stirs him enough to break whatever trance he self-imposed and lifting his head, Namjoon blearily blinks up like one would after a long nap.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you think of Yoongi?”

Sitting half-turned on the sofa with a distinct wrinkle of an oncoming frown, he awaits your answer. One you don’t know.

“Yoongi?” you parrot, all of a sudden being the confused one. “What…what does Yoongi have to do with anything?”

“Like are you two close?”

A beat of silence drags on as you stare at each other. It is frustrating being asked something you did not understand and yet even more so looking into Namjoon’s eyes and having no idea what is it that’s sitting behind them.

“Uh…not really?” at last you cautiously reply. “He texts me something funny every now and then but that’s it.”

“What kind of ‘something funny’?”

The room tumbles into another bout of silence. Slowly you tuck your legs away and though his fingers clutch repeatedly around the emptied air as if the sudden domestic absence has hurt him, the tone of his voice is just too damn imperial for you to care.

“Memes, cat videos,” unwittingly, a part of you — not so agreeable part — breaks free and arching an equally damning eyebrow, you goad him on: “Why? You want to have a look?”

He thinks of it, he genuinely weighs it over, you could see it in the way his pupils dart to the side, half-calculating, half-ashamed of the possibility. By the time that he wistfully utters: “no, there’s no need” it is too late. The tranquil peace of a quiet evening has thoroughly evaporated — what lingers in the air now is terse and partly hidden.

You may not know Yoongi but Namjoon knows Yoongi and he knows that there is something soft that quirks his lips at the mere mention of your name. That the way his gaze follows you around is just a touch too tender. Safe to say, it all goes unspoken — it is Yoongi after all — and Namjoon doesn’t know whether it’s for the better or worse. There is a certain kind of cathartic appeal to just shouting things aloud, consequences be damned, but as it stands, for now at least, everything is quiet and nothing is resolved.

Still, Yoongi doesn’t bother you — shouldn’t that be enough? He has the freedom to feel how he feels, just not the right to act upon it. And the fact is that it wasn’t Yoongi per se that was ruining his relationship right now; Namjoon was doing it quite well all by himself.

Peeking at you from the corner of the eye, he finds you sitting blue. Blue as in bathed in the blue light of the working TV although you do appear quite sad — all shrunken away into the corner, staring at the screen but not seeing anything.

You’ve had a fight.

He just started a fight.

Drawing a curt sigh, Namjoon inches himself a bit closer, acutely monitoring every last bit of you, down to the microexpressions. The slightly stretched out bottom lip, the tightly wound arms around your stomach, just the slight, almost imperceptible crease in between your eyebrows — yes, most certainly, you’ve just had a fight.

Still despite Namjoon moving ever so closer, slyly crawling back into your good graces both metaphorically and physically, you don’t make a move to deny him or cuss him out. In fact, you don’t make any move and once again he doesn’t know if that’s for the better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s earnest — you both know it is. You may not know that he’s saying sorry for more than just this but that too is earnest. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“Then don’t start no fights,” spitefully, you bite back but if your non-reaction was anything to go by as Namjoon places a palm on your knee, he will be forgiven.

Taehyung's part tho!

@soraviie can stomp on my heart and I'll thank her for that! 🌻💜

@back2bluesidex Thank you for beta reading, Nika 💜 you're awesome