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the-busy-ghost · 2 years

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Something comforting to think about today- there are lots of people in the world who hate, loathe, and despise my favourite books

That doesn’t sound like it should be comforting because of course at heart I want everyone to love them as much as I do. And it does annoy me when people hate books based on what I sincerely believe to be a complete misinterpretation of them (cough-cough, the recent “Wuthering Heights is just a silly problematic romance novel” issue). But if I’m being honest I also hate it just as much when people LOVE my favourite books based on a complete misinterpretation of them and for all the wrong reasons (”XXX did nothing wrong!”- what book were you reading???). And in either situation it isn’t really my business, though I reserve the right to be irritated.

But lots of people have valid criticisms of these books. Others simply didn’t vibe with the book on a given day and maybe never will- they don’t owe me or anyone else a reason. And I may not agree with them, but I do like it when I can completely understand why some people don’t like these books. For example, I think “Middlemarch” is one of the greatest novels I’ve ever read but for other people, it’s just not for them! They simply enjoy a very different kind of book, or they were disappointed that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, or they couldn’t understand the characters, or it just wasn’t the right time for that book to come into their lives, or it was just too damn long for them.

And firstly I find that comforting because it shows that we’re all different souls. We all have different tastes and experiences, and that means that our favourite books actually MEAN something to us, rather than just being a Generic Important Book That Everyone Likes. And often the reasons why one book is my favourite, are very different to the reasons that they are someone else’s favourite- the best books are multi-faceted after all. It’s a wonderful testament to the diversity of human experience and creativity (because in my opinion, there’s a great deal of the reader’s own imaginative ability goes into engaging with a book). So all that is required is for people to be open-minded and assume that when someone says they love a book, they have their own reasons, and these might not even be the reasons you think.

And secondly of course, is that if even the books that I think are the best thing to exist, a physical symbol of worldly greatness, aspiration embodied, don’t appeal to everyone- then the things I create in turn don’t need to either. If even the greatest authors have harsh critics who will simply NEVER like their work, why are we all worrying so much about the merest hint of rejection, in life as much as in art?

#I talk a good game of course rejection is still very painful for me #And note valid constructive criticism is a different thing from rejection but if people's books can survive completely dumbass rejection #Based on complete misreading of the situation I think I can survive someone not liking me #books #reading #booklr #Also constructive criticism of my favourite books is good because it means I get to go back think it over #Argue it through in my head; point out other passages of the book in defence of it #And STILL come out of it loving the book possibly even more because it's drawn my attention to things I didn't realise about it #And sometimes I can't answer them fully either and that's ok too #Sometimes I've had the same thought as a novel's detractors and they've drawn attention to it #For example I was wondering at the end of Wuthering Heights why Heathcliff bothered keeping Nellie around #Why didn't he just send her packing rather than continuing to employ her at Thrushcross Grange #And I have lots of ideas but none of them quite stick yet #One is that she's possibly an unreliable narrator so she may- against her better judgement- have helped him more than she likes to admit #Another is that he is labouring under the impression that he can control her and so keeps her around in case he needs to use her influence #A third is that he needs a witness- there's some element of performativity in his cruelty and SOMEONE needs to see him destroy things #But I also like the idea that the four of them are all siblings really #Nelly- though she has a mother and other family at home- spent much of her youth at Wuthering Heights #And describes herself as Hindley's foster sibling in the sense that her mother was his nurse (a powerful bond in the pre-modern era btw)#So really she's as much one of the Wuthering Heights Nest as the lot of them #Heathcliff doesn't have as much reason to despise her as Hindley nor does he have so much reason to love her as Cathy #But she's still a sibling of sorts and maybe Heathcliff- whether he recognises it or not- sense that she has a right to be there #He doesn't seem like someone who needs a family but then maybe he's not as in control of the Heights as he thinks he is #I really don't know yet I will have to reread it #But yeah I think Nelly is as much a part of that nest of trouble as the rest of them #I'm getting off topic though- but see what I mean about negative criticism being important and fascinating!#Ok so I keep finding my way back to Wuthering Heights a lot over the last few weeks but this applies to othe rbooks too #I had similar feelings about some of teh criticisms of Flemington #reading log

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dratefahmed1 · 24 days

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Nurse Nelly's Night Shift by Dr #bedtimeroutine #calmingfears #healthyhabits #childrenshealth #illu

#nursenellysnight #childrensbooks #kidlit #picturebooks #bedtimestories #preschoolactivities #earlylearning #diversitybooks #emotionallearning #giftideasforkids #readtoyourchild #illustration #colorful #childrensart #creativity #storytimewithkids #nursenelly #nursesofinstagram #nursesoftiktok #nursestories #healthcareheroes #hospital #nightingale #caring #kindness #compassion #futurenurses…

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#bed time stories about nurses #caring and kindness #children&039;s book about nurses #children&039;s books about hospitals early learning books #diversity in children&039;s books #dr atef ahmed #empathy for children healthcare awareness #future nurses #Healthcare #healthcare heroes for kids #illustrated children&039;s books #interactive learning activities #learning through play #night shift adventure #nurse nelly #nurse nelly&039;s night shift #or diversity.#preschool books #storybook adventure

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fazcinatingblog · 9 months

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i hate that people can't get her name right

#and the hyphen is all wrong????#wtf #mate #this has real dill-hoskin elliott vibes #dell-dorris day dalton #adele doris day dalton academy #adele doris-day #it's NELL or NELLIE #nellie MD #nellie m-d #or nell morris-dalton #when she's at work tending to the patients she's nellie MD #she's only a nurse though

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chantireviews · 1 year

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Navigating Narrative Non-Fiction | November Deadlines for the CIBAs

Demystify Your Non-Fiction with Chanticleer In Fiction, genre boundaries can sometimes seem so clear, scifi has aliens and mysteries have a murder, but how do we organize Non-Fiction? Chanticleer offers a wide variety of Non-Fiction Book Awards, and here we’ll focus on the Narrative Non-Fiction Divisions. These Divisions are: The Journey Awards The Nellie Bly Awards The Hearten Awards The…

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w2soneshots · 13 days

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Can you make a oneshot that We alsow is a fotball girl and Harry and her Are filming a penelty video and he hits her in the head and she gets a nose bleed. And Harry gets scared and takes her to the hospital but she just need som kisses and cudels

You sure? -W2S

Words: 0.6k+

Warnings: head injury, hospitals, protective harry.

In which Harry accidentally hurts you during a football video and won’t stop worrying.

a/n: hey babe🫶🏼 I’ve been super busy recently so haven’t really had the time (or energy) to write😫. Thank you for this cute request!! I hope you enjoy🤍 (also I know nothing about football so I apologise if anything is incorrect😭)

Me and Harry have been together for almost 8 months. We both love football and he often comes on my channel. Today we're filming a video at our local football pitch.

"You almost ready to go babe?" He asked as I brushed my teeth. "Mhm" I murmured before spitting the toothpaste into the sink. "Let me just grab my bag." I rushed through our apartment to collect the last few things I needed for the video.

We left soon after and Harry drove us to the pitch. Once we arrived we grabbed all of the equipment out of the boot and carried it onto the grass. Then we set everything up and began filming. "Hey guys! Today we're filming a penalty video and Harry's going to be challenging my goal keeping skills so let's get started!" I began. Harry did his usual awkward "yes!" And I giggled.

I assumed my position in the goal and Harry began taking shots. After almost half an hour of switching back and forth between Harry and I it was my turn to be the goal keeper again. Everything went in slow motion, Harry took a shot and before I could even process what was happening the ball whacked me right in my face. I fell to the ground with a thud as my head started to spin and something wet began to drip from my nose.

"Oh my god! y/n I'm so sorry! Shit you're bleeding! Oh nelly." Harry rambled. "Haz I'm fine, just a bit shocked that's all." I calmly stated as he helped me up. "We should take you to the hospital." He stressed. I decided not to argue as I knew he wouldn't take no for an answer. He walked me back to the car then quickly grabbed the cameras along with all of our things. Then he drove us to the hospital.

"Looks like you have a minor concussion, doesn't seem to be anything you need to worry about just rest and take it easy for the next few days." The kind nurse said as I sat next to Harry in the small hospital room. "Are you sure she's gonna be ok?" Harry asked. She nodded "if you're worried about anything just call us up or come back here." She relayed. "Yes, thank you." I stood from the chair and Harry quickly followed.

I saw him carefully glancing at me on the drive home. "Harry. Seriously I'm fine. The nurse said there was absolutely nothing to worry about." "I know, I just feel bad for you know- hurting you." He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I laughed "aw, you're such an empath."

When we got home Harry told me to sit down and so I did. After grabbing me some water and an ice pack he plonked himself next to me on the couch. I moved so my head was leaning on his chest. His hands gently raked through my hair and I slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

The next morning I woke up in bed next to Harry, who was sat scrolling through his phone. "Morning." I whispered. His eyes shot towards me "ah, you're alive. How's your head?" He asked. I chuckled "my heads fine." My head hurt a little (which was to be expected since I'd had a football pounded into my face) but I wasn't going to mention it to Harry since he was so worried. "Good. We're definitely not filming any more football videos for a while." I pouted, putting on my best puppy dog eyes "but I don't want my channel to die." Harry chuckled "well I can compromise... maybe we can just do crossbar challenge or something." "Ok." I replied with a satisfied nod before moving closer toward him and pecking his lips. "Thanks for taking care of me Haz." He pulled me closer "you know I always will."

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rookthorne · 11 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

Bucky being a nurse meant that he knew of many ailments, as well as how to treat or cure them. It was just your luck that he knew exactly how to take care of you, in every way you needed him to.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ღ Nurse!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ღ 1.8k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ღ Fluff ჻჻჻ SMUT: Thigh riding, Soft Dom!Bucky ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, daddy, uniform

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ღ Y'all can thank @smutconnoisseur for this, and this ask. It's all her fault — I am innocent in this.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ღ Say It Right by Nelly Furtado

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ღ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 3 — In My Lap — Masterlist ღ @mcukinkbingo 𝗕𝟭 — Character dresses in uniform — Masterlist

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

There had been an itch under your skin all day – hours on end of feeling restless, misplaced, and yearning for something. It had worsened tenfold the moment Bucky had walked out to leave for work, his bag slung over his shoulder, dressed in scrubs and his long hair tied back in a ponytail that rested against the back of his neck. It was training day, a small relief where you knew he would be working at a normal pace, and not go to super soldier lengths.

“Catch you when I get back, sweetheart,” Bucky had said, parting with a chaste kiss to your lips and a small smile. “Behave.”

You sent him away with a simple, “Stay safe, babe,” and that was that.

That was forever ago, and Bucky was due home any moment. You were waiting, quite desperately, to hear the sound of his shoes on the landing of the front door. The sound of Bucky’s bag shifting on his shoulder sounded far too real, and close. Perking up from your perch on the couch, you realised something – that wasn’t in your head, those sounds were at the door.

He was home.

“Hey, baby- Whoa!” Bucky rushed, catching you in his arms as you slammed into his chest. “Holy shit, sweetheart–are you alright?”

In lieu of an answer, you crashed your lips against his. The urge to pour your need into it overpowered your sense of rationality, but Bucky only kissed back after dropping his bag to pull you closer.

“Ba- Wait, hang on,” he gasped, his breath fanning over your lips. “What is this? Are you alright?”

You nodded and groped for Bucky’s hand, pulling it along as you stepped into the living room. “Need you,” you mumbled.

Realisation dawned in Bucky’s darkening eyes. “You need me, huh?” he mused, stopping short. “Let me get outta these scrubs- What?”

At his words, you shook your head and glanced up and down his body. The shoes he was wearing were long discarded by the door, and the light blue scrub pants – they hugged his thighs, just shy of too tight, and the matching light blue scrub shirt pulled taut across his chest when he inhaled, or moved his arms. His clip on ID tag rustled against the fabric with every shift of the fabric, and the sleeves showed off his biceps. The very same arms that held you as you broke and pulled you back together, the exact same arms that he used to selflessly care for others, day in, and day out.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Keep them on,” you whispered, and Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. “Y-You look–” The sudden stutter frustrated you beyond belief, but you barrelled on, fuelled by the patient, soft gaze Bucky gave you. “You look good in them, please don’t take them off.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, stepping into your space to brush your cheek with his thumb. “Is that so? That’s what you want?”

You couldn’t decipher his intentions with his guarded expression, but the blue of his eyes was rapidly disappearing behind the black of his pupils. Taking a step closer, you took Bucky’s thumb into your mouth, nodding slowly.

“Oh, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, biting his lips. “Y’know I’d do anything for you–I’ll keep ‘em on, especially since you asked so nicely, huh?”

“Thank you,” you whispered – grateful for his understanding. “Please, need–”

“Panties off. C’mon,” Bucky interrupted, moving to the couch and sitting down heavily, a low groan in his throat that shot straight between your thighs. The fabric of the scrubs hugged his thighs so tightly as he spread his legs, you were shocked they didn’t split the seam. He cleared his throat and you glanced up, not realising you had been openly staring, when he slapped his thigh. “Sit down–right here, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you replied, pulling off your panties before you climbed into his lap, just as he asked. “This is… strange.”

Bucky chuckled and moved his hands to rest on your hips, a brow raised in question. “Strange?”

“Haven’t really… been in this position, before,” you mumbled, a stab of insecurity tampering the flames. “That’s all. And your thighs are fucking huge.” They were – your own legs had to stretch a decent amount to sit comfortably down on the corded muscle that kept twitching and tensing as he started to laugh.

“My thighs are huge, huh?” Bucky mused, his gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. “You know I have to make sure they’re the best seat in the house for my girl, right? You have to be comfortable.”

The two of you started to laugh again, the tension and awkwardness vanishing in an instant. A comfortable silence settled as you stared at him, biting your lip from nerves. “Kiss me,” Bucky said suddenly, pulling your face to his by the back of your neck.

Your lips met his softly, a gentle kiss that deepened when he swiped his tongue over your lip, asking to explore, and you granted it. An urge to move – get closer – overcame you and you shifted, eliciting a quiet gasp of shock when the pressure against your bare cunt became much firmer. Bucky pulled back and grinned. “That feel good, baby?”

“Y-Yeah,” you rushed, looking at him while furrowing your brows. “I didn’t think it would, I mean–”

“Shh,” Bucky soothed, and his hands tightened on your hips. “I’m going to take control, and you just let yourself feel, alright, sweetheart? Let daddy take care of you–make you feel good.”

The air left your lungs sharply as his words cascaded over you, sweeping you away from the anxiety and nerves of being in unfamiliar territory. “Okay,” you murmured, and Bucky smiled softly.

“Thank you, my pretty girl,” Bucky praised, and his hands pulled you forward, the drag of his clothes against your bare clit made you shiver, your hands instinctively flying to Bucky’s broad shoulders to ground yourself. “Gonna go back now…”

A quiet moan fell from your lips at the sensation. “Oh, wow,” you giggled.

“Want me to go faster, baby?” He sounded amused – smug bastard, you thought.

You nodded quickly, gripping the fabric of his shirt tight in your fists. “Please.”

“Alright, hold tight–you can pull my hair if you want, too,” Bucky offered, and it was your turn to raise a brow at him, though your hand moved to his messy ponytail anyway, freeing it so it fell to his shoulders. He kissed you quickly and you sighed against his lips. “Thank you, baby,” he murmured.

Slowly, Bucky moved you back and forth, each pass over his thigh a little faster than the last, and every small whimper was met with praise and a kiss to your neck. “So pretty like this, baby girl,” Bucky said, his words ghosting over your skin as he pulled you down harder around his thigh. “Think you can come like this, all over my scrubs? Make a fuckin’ mess?”

“Feels s’good,” you moaned, pulling at his hair and fisting his shirt. “Don’t stop, please, please- Daddy, fuck–”

“I won’t, jus’ feel for me, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned, his hands moving you faster so your moans became high pitched and wanton. “Such a good girl for me, so fuckin’ dirty too–look at you.”

Pleasure burned through every nerve and your breath hitched, the feeling of being pulled under approaching faster than you had ever experienced – was it that this position was entirely new and vulnerable? Was it the fact that you were ruining his uniform with slick and he was encouraging it?

Your jaw fell slack when Bucky sped up his hands, your hips now rocking back and forth steadily with slicked ease. The sudden urge to look down into his lap overwhelmed you, and you did, moaning loudly at the sight – a large wet patch had formed over the top of his thigh, spreading down the sides the more you moved. “Oh, god, daddy–”

“Yeah, baby girl, that’s all you,” Bucky breathed, his voice hitching on a moan when you fisted his hair through a harsh rock of your hips. “Look at the fuckin’ mess you’ve made on me, sweetheart–fuckin’ look at it.”

“I am, oh fuck, I am-” A choked off moan fell from your lips when a sharp stab of sensation shot through your clit. “Please, please!”

Bucky grinned at you and somehow moved his hands even faster – he was revelling in the high whine that built in your throat from the pace. “You wanna come?”

“Mhm, mhm,” you hiccuped, flexing your hands again in Bucky’s hair to hear a quiet hiss at the sharp sting. “I’m close!”

“Give it to me, then, baby,” Bucky growled, his tone dark and his eyes even darker. “Let go, soak my fuckin’ thigh, sweetheart, now.”

Bucky’s words washed over you and forced you under, your back bowing and pushing your chest into his face, his pace never faltering as you crested through your climax – toes curling next to his knees and hands gripping tighter than iron in his hair and shirt. “Coming! ‘M coming!”

“Good girl! That’s it, let it out, c’mon,” Bucky cooed, slowing down as you began to twitch and shake. “Did so well for me, sweetheart, so good for me.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, slumping in his hold as the frenetic and desperately energy that had you in its grip all day ebbed away.

“C’mere,” Bucky murmured, and he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your back to embrace you tightly. “You with me, baby?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. Your limbs felt loose and your mind floaty, but much calmer and quieter. “Sorry I jumped you, couldn’t help it.”

A laugh shook Bucky’s shoulders, and he squeezed you, before placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Not gonna lie, baby, but if that’s the greetin’ I get every time I walk through that door, you’ll not find me complainin’–not one bit.”

“And I ruined your scrubs…” You mumbled sheepishly, shuddering at the feel of wet fabric between your thighs.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, sweetheart,” Bucky replied, and he moved you off his chest to look you in the eye. His gaze was heated, and if you weren’t still recovering from your climax, you would have begun to grind in earnest. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and you better fuckin’ do it again–you got no idea how you make me feel when you’re like that. And, baby,” he murmured as you bowed your head in a sudden, overwhelming shyness. His fingers tipped your chin back up so you could see his soft smile. “Daddy loves the way you make him feel–don’t you dare stop.”

Bucky surged forward and kissed you hungrily, and with that, you fell pliant in his arms once again.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works #Treatment

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clubdionysus · 17 days

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[BAD DECISION #1] Purple Starfuckers

warnings: alcohol, clubbing

soundtrack: bad decisions - bts, passionfruit - drake, promiscuous - nelly furtado & timbaland

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

"Don't think of it as a bad decision. Think of it as a lesson learned. Something to remember for next time."

The way Hoseok looks at you is borderline comical - face all scrunched up, mouth hanging ajar. He's scowling, but it isn't new. He's had a face like a slapped arse all evening. Kinda goes with the territory of a fresh break-up, mind you.

"You don't seriously believe that?" He scoffs, before swallowing his words down with the rum and coke that he's been nursing for the past fifteen minutes. It tastes like shit, and is far too strong - but he's the one who asked for a triple. No one else to blame

The bartender had raised his pierced brow, told Hoseok that he's "not allowed to do that" - but had offered to make him a double and pour a separate shot, instead. "What you do with that shot is up to you," the bartender had shrugged - and so Hoseok had poured it straight on in.

You finish your own drink with a roll of your eyes and shake of your head. "What I believe is that she wasn't 'the one', Hobes. Was a lucky escape, if you ask me. She was fucking vile to me and Danbi."

"You guys just didn't get to know her proper-"

"Hobi, she wore white to Jungmi's wedding," Danbi interrupted. Truthfully, she could not have cared less for how badly Hoseok's ex had treated her - it was when she started behaving badly around other people, embarrassing them in the process, that she started to take offence. If there was one thing Danbi had, it was pride. "WHITE! Who does that?! Poor Jungmi. She's a better woman than me. I'd have fought that bitch on the spot, right in the aisle. Don't care if it's my wedding day, when bitches deserve a slap-"

"Dan," you laugh but try and get her to quiet down, knowing that Hoseok is still reeling from the break-up. As true as her words are, he doesn't need to hear them right now. Turning to Hoseok, you stroke up his shoulder tenderly, with a soft smile on your glossy lips.

You didn't cover yourself head to toe in glitter just to sit in the smoking area of a shitty club all night. There's fun to be had.

"Look, Hobes, it sucks that things ended the way they did -" a screaming match over the price of asparagus in the middle of a supermarket, that was totally an argument about something more than that, but Hoseok is still in denial - "but not everything we lose is a loss. Okay? You've still got us."

Which is admittedly more than he deserves after how much of a shitbag he'd turned into during the relationship. He'd go days, weeks - hell - sometimes months, without getting back to you. You and Dan had been fine - you had each other after all - but it still sucked not having your third musketeer with you.

"Now c'mon," you smile. "Get that drink down you, and get that pretty ass of yours on the floor. We both know you're dying for a good dance."

"I don't feel like it," he groans - but he downs his drink regardless, and is dancing to a noughties classic within five minutes.

You think it's Nelly Furtado - it is - but you're so drunk that you can't really place it. It's the kind of song that everyone knows; the kind of song that gets everyone's hips moving just right. Bodies are hot and sweaty, the clammy dancefloor a pit of sin. To you, though, it feels like heaven at that moment. This is all you've wanted for months. You're holding Danbi's hands, Hoseok between the pair of you, unable to escape and not really wanting to, either. He's smiling, and it's the best thing you've seen all night.

The lights of the club beam down on you, pinks and blues reflecting the satin dress you're wearing. It's short, barely covering your ass, and silver. Picked out especially for a night like this; when attention is welcome, but not necessarily encouraged. You think you look like a trophy. Maybe someone will be lucky enough to win you. Maybe not.

From the bar, Jeon Jeongguk thinks you look like a little disco ball.

He's wiping a tumbler dry, fresh from the glass washer, making most of the lull in customers coming to the bar. There are only three of them behind it, and it always makes Friday shifts feel that little bit more hectic.

Dionysus, a club just on the outskirts of the party district, is always busier on a Saturday, so he prefers Friday shifts. A relatively small club, it has only a single dancefloor and a bar area with a few seats. The back entrance leads to the smoking area, which is where he'd first noticed you coming from with your friends. There's nowhere to hide, really, in a club like this. If you're in Dionysus, everyone knows about it.

Especially the bartenders.

"What do we reckon," Yeonjun, the youngest of the crew, smirks at Jeongguk as he nods towards you and your friends. "They all going home together, or what?"

A little air squeaks through Jeongguk's lips as he purses them, trying to get a read on your little trio. The way you're moving your hips towards the dude in the middle certainly seems a little more than friendly. At least, if a girl he'd never met before was dancing with him like that, he'd take it as a good sign he was getting laid.

What makes it interesting is the fact that there are two of you. You in silver, another girl in black. Both pretty. Both incredibly different, but both captivating nonetheless. Like a pair of shooting stars, he thinks, cracking through the crowd at a vibrancy that could blind. Is a little confused as to how the fuck you aren't being pestered by other guys - doesn't complain though. Makes for a clear line of vision.

It's nights like these which make Jeongguk wish he worked a normal job. He misses out on all the fun always being behind the bar, he thinks. Does also save him from making some bad decisions that he knows would surely haunt him. If anything, he should be thankful.

"Fuck knows," he simply says, closing the glasswasher and whipping the towel over his shoulder. "10,000 won says he's going home alone."

Yeonjun smirks. "You're on."

It's less of a bet for Jeongguk. More of a manifestation. He likes watching you dance. Doesn't like the thought of you dancing with the dude by yourself. Doesn't like the idea of you leaving with him, either. Considers the fact that maybe you're not even interested in dudes, and that it's the girl you're holding hands with who you'll be leaving with instead. He's less intimidated by that - at least your disinterest in him would be preference based - but it's still not his favourite scenario.

It's not like he knows you, nor will he ever know you. He just likes to live in the what-ifs. They're always so much safer. Can't get rejected if you don't put yourself out there.

And so he carries on with work just like he should, serving the next punters who stumble to the bar. He pours them a water with their order, because lord knows they need it, and laughs when someone tries to pay for it thinking it's a vodka lemonade.

"On the house," he shrugs, letting their drunk minds believe it really is a vodka lemonade. Easier that way. Will get them drinking water, at least, even if just for a sip or so before they clock on.

You're laughing, a little out of breath and not entirely steady on your feet, as you head to the bar.

He'd been so busy with the last customers that he didn't even notice until he saw you using the bar to help steady yourself. You aren't looking in his direction, but up at the row of spirits behind him, trying to sus out what you fancy.

Your hair is dark, up in a ponytail with grown-out bangs framing your face. The makeup you've been wearing has faded, melted off from the heat of the club, but the glitter remains. You really do look like a disco ball, he thinks. It makes him smile.

"Hey, sorry," you beam towards him, eyes just as sparkling at the glitter dusted on your collarbones. He raises his brows, expression open, receptive, as he moves closer to the bar. "What's something that can get me fucked up but also tastes delicious?"

Oh, how he loves a challenge. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side. "What do you qualify as delicious?"

"No passionfruit," you say almost instantly. "So no pornstars." And then you gag a little, to emphasise just how much you hate passionfruit.

"No pornstars, noted," Jeongguk says as he pulls an imaginary pencil from behind his ear and pretends to jot it down on his palm. He looks back up at you, and doesn't bother fighting the way his teeth bite down on his bottom lip - why would he? You're giggling. He likes it. And he also knows you're probably drunk, so won't remember this interaction in the morning.

"Well, I mean, none of the drinking variety," you grin, tongue in cheek. "If you happen to know any of the human variety, send them my way."

He almost chokes on his own spit. The shock in his eyes has you laughing again.

"I'm joking, you idiot."

Although you kind of totally aren't. You haven't been laid in a while. You'll take anything with a pulse who is interested at this point.

"I knew that," he bluffs, and looks back down at his palm as if he's reading again. "Okay, so no pornstars - pornstar martinis. What else?"

"Don't like orange juice."

"Do you like anything?"

You like lots of things. So many things that your brain can't think straight, actually.

You like the way a tattoo is peaking out of his shirt sleeve. You like dancing with your friends. Being drunk. His smile. The way he's joking with you. The knowledge that Hoseok is probably doing the robot as you speak. Sunsets. The chain around the neck of the man in front of you. Those cute tiny straws he puts in some of the cocktails. Him.

But you narrow your eyes, and ignore your brain. "Alcohol."

He narrows his eyes right back. Purses his lips. Looks down at his fake notepad, then back up at you. "I think I have just the thing for you."

Reaching for the plastic cups which you know are reserved for water, you almost look offended. Does he not think you have eyes? Are too drunk to know he's giving you water?

He places it in front of you and smiles, lips together, eyes round - but still challenging you.

"It's water," you tell him, and he nods. No denial.

"Uh-huh. Cleanse your palette first."

"Are we fine dining?"

"We aren't doing anything," he assures you. He's on the clock. "But everything tastes like shit after a smoke, so if you wanna enjoy it, have some water."

Your brows furrow together, head tilting and then you're self-conscious. "Do I smell like smoke?"

You'd doused yourself in perfume and had been chewing on gum to hide it, but apparently not well enough.

Jeongguk shakes his head, realising how much wider your eyes are. You don't seem as confident. You're not smiling anymore.

"No, no," he says quickly and nods toward your clutch, which is propped open on the side of the bar. A packet of cigarettes are sticking out slightly, a lighter tucked into the side. "I just guessed - sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, no. You don't. Not at all."

You follow his gaze, and find yourself smiling. Small misunderstanding. That's all. But he seems just as panicked as you had been. It's sweet.

"Fine," you elongate your response and let your eyes narrow again, to let him know you're ready to banter again. "I'll drink it - but whatever you're making better be good."

"If you hate it, it's on the house," he says, knowing that you won't hate it. He sets about making your drink as you sip on the water, not really watching him because you're trying to focus on not falling over. Water actually seems like a great idea. You're thankful for it.

When Jeongguk returns to your spot by the bar, he can't stop blinking. The glass of water - an entire pint - is finished. You're smiling, lips a little wet, eyes a little hazy.

"Thirsty," you shrug.

He checks your jaw to make sure it's not grinding, but it's perfectly still. Not a gram of MD - the drug of choice in Dionysus circles - in your system. You just really are thirsty - had been dancing all bloody night. He knows this, but he's naive to how hot it is down there. Hasn't actually been on the dancefloor himself in a while. Always working.

He accepts your defence, and holds up the shot in front of you. It's tiny, and pretty, all purple and shimmery.

Jeongguk smiles. "Purple Starfucker."

The water you've just finished almost comes back up through your system. "Sorry?!"

"Purple Starfucker," Jeongguk simply repeats. "Amaretto, peach schnapps, a little curacao and cranberry juice. Fucking delicious."

You do love all of those. It's the ideal drink for you. You've never had it before, but you know it's gonna be good. He places it down in front of you, but that challenging look is still in your eye.

He laughs a little. Can't figure you out. Has no idea what you're thinking. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," you grin, picking the shot glass up by the rim, raising it with a nod. "To Purple Starfuckers."

Jeongguk nods back. Toys with his lip piercing, the tip of his tongue peeking out ever so slightly before he bites down on his lip. "To Purple Starfuckers."

From his peripherals, Jeongguk can see Yeonjun leaning against the countertop at the back of the bar, watching him with a curious smirk.

Un-fucking-believable, Yeonjun thinks. Reckons Jeongguk is trying to fuck with the bet. Trying to lure Disco Ball away. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he can read your lips - 'Holy shit? That's fucking delicious? How much do I owe you?' - and watches the way Jeongguk shakes his head. Hands too. Shrugs. Bloody git is giving it to you on the house.

10,000 won ain't that much, but Yeonjun doesn't like losing. "Oi, Disco Ball. Get your friends"- he nods towards Hoseok and Danbi. -"We'll make you a round."

He ignores the way Jeongguk's eyes burn into him, knowing that his shit-eating grin is enough to wind Jeongguk up. They love each other really, but in a way you'd love a sibling. Fully capable of hating one another, too.

You glance up to Jeongguk, almost as if you're asking his permission. You kind of are. You trust him. He's been kind. This other bartender? He's a bit louder. Far brasher. And he'd called you Disco Ball? The fuck?

Jeongguk nods. Doesn't want you to leave, but equally knows the only reason you're looking at him like that - eyes all wide and innocent - is 'cause you're drunk. Doubts it would be the same if you were sober. When he comes to think of it, he'd rather you were with your friends. Safer that way. "Hurry. Before we get really busy."

And so you scurry off, running on the balls of your feet to avoid awkward heel mishaps. There's something endearing about it and it's almost enough to distract him from Yeonjun's taunts.

"If he doesn't take her home, I will."

"She's fucked," Jeongguk tells him, voice stern, eyes still on you. Fucking around with punters isn't against the rules, but taking advantage of drunk girls? Yeah, not on his watch. Doesn't matter who it is. He's seen enough creeps and enough girls in tears because of them to know when to step in. "You're going nowhere near her."

"I clock off in an hour," Yeonjun reminds him. Jeongguk the one who's closing the bar tonight. "Plenty of time to play catch up."

Yeonjun - brilliant, blue-haired, and with enough boyish charm to seduce almost anyone - isn't a creep. He looks up to Jeongguk. Respects him. Follows his lead. Would never take advantage of a punter. He just likes winding Jeongguk up a little too much.

Jeongguk ignores him. Doesn't put it past him. While Yeonjun likes to think he has values, Jeongguk knows he's just as horny and desperate as the rest of the fuckers in the bar.

That's not to say Jeongguk is discounting himself from the generalisation - he just actually does have morals. To some degree, at least.

You're on the dancefloor for no more than thirty seconds, dragging Hoseok and Danbi with you to the bar. They complain and moan - "but I love that song!" - though as soon as they're faced with a tray of shots, their moods shoot up. You go to pay Jeongguk, but he shakes his head.

"On the house."

"You're trying to get me drunk," you accuse with a knowing smile.

"You're already drunk," he smiles right back. It's not his goal. It's a fairly quiet night. If anything, this is entertainment. Not like there's much better for him to be doing. Not until his friends drop by later, at least. "I'm just a nice barman."

Part of you wants to protest. He's covered in tattoos - his hands, the ones peaking from his shirt at the wrist and the neck - and has more piercing in his ears than you do. There's a stud in his brow, and a ring on his lip. It's his eyes though, that you think scream danger the most. They're deep and they're dark, and you know better than to trust them.

And yet when he smiles like that, your tummy feels all fuzzy in the same way that your head does.

"Well thank you Mr Nice Barman," you nod and curtsey, because that somehow feels appropriate.

"Jeongguk," he corrects, before knocking his head to the side and nodding towards the dancefloor. "Go enjoy your night, trouble."

Not too much, though, he thinks to himself, but watches as you bounce back to the dancefloor with your friends.

The drinks were a small gesture, but one that he knows will have made a difference to their night. No skin off his back. He likes doing things like this. You're not the first, likely won't be the last - but he spends a lot longer than usual quietly observing you as you get on with your night. Doesn't notice the smile on his face.

Yeonjun does, though. Chooses not to say anything. Knows when to pick his battles.

Does warn him when he sees Jeongguk's friends bundle in through the door, though. "Watch out boss. Same as usual?"

Jeongguk nods, and Yeonjun sets about making a round of drinks for the usual suspects. Three malibu and cokes, one rum and lemonade and four purple starfuckers. Jeongguk'll make those. They're his signature.

"Look what the cat dragged in," he grins towards his friends, all a little worse for wear. Bleary-eyed, they're smiling and joking, having come from dinner - which turned into drinks, and then more drinks and then - fuck it - clubs. Dionysus is always the final stop. They like the atmosphere; like the free drinks even more.

"You know us," Park Jimin grins at him in the sleazy way he so often does, which lets Jeongguk knows he's up to no good. "Where the pussy goes, we surely follow."

"Speak for yourself," Namjoon snorts beside him, a little more sober than the others. Taehyung and Yoongi are engaged in their own conversation - something about the Samsung Lions and baseball strategy that Jeongguk doesn't care much for. "Quiet night?"

"Fairly," Jeongguk nods - which can only mean one thing. Same thing it means every week.

He'd always thought that by the time they hit their mid-twenties, they'd be over this lifestyle by now - but his friends like to make just as many bad decisions as he does.

"Round up boys," Jimin cheers, his voice booming above the bass of whatever noughties classic is on. "Purple Starkfucker time!"

Jeongguk laughs. Shakes his head, rolls his eyes. Unfolds his defensive arms. Glances up to the crowd - but you're lost to the night. Maybe not forever, but for now, at least.

And so he just nods, and cheers along with them.

"Purple Starfucker time."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk #jungkook x reader #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan #jungkook fluff #bartender!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #jeongguk fic #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

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the-record · 1 month

Text

ALL MY LOVE

SUMMARY: a ghost from your past finds herself back home

PAIRING: nell jackson x reader

WARNINGS: some show spoilers!!!

A/N: if you haven’t watched renegade nell, please go watch it now its literally fantastic and i havent stopped thinking about it since

‘THERE AINT A DROP OF BAD BLOOD ITS ALL MY LOVE’

word tends to spread fast in tottenham.

“sam trotter’s girl? back from the dead?” the ladies gossip wasn’t exactly quiet, though they tried. “how’s that bloody possible?”

you couldn’t help but listen in, not your fault they couldn’t whisper. “sorry,” you interrupted, “did you say sam trotter’s girl?”

they nodded. “back from the dead she is.” you tuned them out as their words clicked.

half a gasp before you ran off, leaving the ladies in shock. you shoved past people, yelling out ‘sorry’s as you went. it had been quite some time since you went to the tavern, not since nelly left you all, but you knew the path like the back of your hand.

the door slammed as you looked around, finding only george amongst the customers. a silent question in your eyes as you stared.

"she's in the back with pa."

you nodded and ran off, george smiling as you whipped past her.

time stopped when you saw her, you thought your heart might just burst.

"nell?" voice just above a whisper but she heard you. you threw yourself at her when she smiled. her breath caught as she caught you, winding her arms around your waist and pulling tight. you pulled back and slapped her arm. "you're s'posed to be dead."

she faked a hurt gasp but pulled you back in. “can’t believe youre still ‘ere. thought you might’ve married some rich fella and ran off.” she teased. your eyes found her lip, split and dry. you followed it down, taking in her clothes.

“and what are these?” you gestured to her pants. “not very ladylike.”

nell huffed a laugh, “d’you think?” her hands ran up and down your arms. “i’ve missed ya.”

she hissed as you dabbed at her lip with a damp towel, but you just smiled and hushed her. “you always were a baby.” nell rolled her eyes but sat still again. “so what have you been doin’ all these years, hm?”

“beating up highwaymen.” she laughed but your face was serious. “busy playing wife and nurse for captain jackson,” she played with the ring on her left hand.

“can’t believe you married before me.” you forced a small smile. “sorry by the way, ‘bout him.”

nell shook her head. “don’t be.” she took your wrist in her hand, stopping your gentle ministrations. “thought about you everyday.” you shook your head and sighed, looking away, but nell insisted. “i did, truly.”

her eyes searched your face and stopped on your lips. “nell…” when you turned back she was already staring. “we can’t.” you whispered. her sisters were right next door for god’s sake.

“oh c’mon, for old times sake. for me.” she stared deeply. “hm?”

god, she could be so convincing.

“just like that, huh?” you yelled as you stomped up to nell. roxy and sam backed up, giving the two of you space. “no goodbye again?” she stared at her boots and shook her head “and what’s this i hear about you roughing up thomas blancheford? you can’t afford to do that.”

you stood in-front of her with your arms crossed across your chest. “i’m just fine.” she continued fixing the saddle on her horse. “and i did say goodbye last time.”

“yes, a goodbye see you tomorrow if i remember right.” you huffed a laugh. “was gonna say i can’t believe this, but i guess i can huh?” you stepped close, toe to toe. “just like you to up and leave. never cared much for anyone else’s feelings, did ya?”

you knew it hurt her, but she hurt you first. when she laughed you wanted to slap her, teach her right then. “are you kidding me nell? you serious?”

“didn’t even give me the chance to ask you to come with.”

‘YOU GOT ALL MY LOVE, I’M STILL OUT HERE’

#! kates babes !#renegade nell #nell jackson #nelly jackson #nell jackson x reader #nelly jackson x reader #charles devereux #louisa harland #george jackson #roxy jackson

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